#i’m gonna start using thus tag under every post so i can find better if i decide to ever look back

[aengelren]

you kill 80% of humanity and suddenly you’re a “bad guy” (?) 🎀ིྀ

[that-house]

Ok, So I’ve got a writing question here

I’ve been trying to pick up writing for about...six months? A year? I’m not really sure. I’ve been doing my research, trying to improve and what not, but I’ve been struggling to find a good small-scale way to practice without committing to a big book.

There seems to be a lot of “controversy” about writing small stories, especially if they’re actual help or just a waist of time. I really love your book and admire your writing style, so I was wondering what you’re go-too is when it comes to practicing/what exercises helped the most when you started out?

Sorry about the long ask, thanks!

here are my main three tips for getting good at writing. they're based in my own experience, for my own style, and while I've taken plenty of English classes, most of my writing ability is self-taught, so they may differ wildly from the commonly held priorities. but they work for me, and thus are the only advice i can give in good faith. here goes:

1. READ. read so much. when you're reading, every now and then stop and think about what the author is trying to do with a paragraph or a sentence. evaluate what methods they're using and ask yourself if it's effective. you don't need to do this for every passage, or even in every book. but if something stands out, think about why it does and consider how you can do something similar in your own work. even if you're not engaging deeply with the text, reading innately improves your vocabulary, grammar, and sense of narrative/scentence flow. the more you read the better you get at writing (and the more you write the better you get at reading)

2. WRITE. write anything and everything. don't force yourself to finish something. anyone who says short stories are a waste of time is actually a waste of space themselves. stretching a story out is a skill that comes with time and practice. i'm pretty sure the thief and the gun is my second ever piece of writing to pass 10k words. writing short stories allows you to explore a single simple idea in depth without needing to expand beyond that one concept. i personally found that writing horror short stories helped me learn to add tension to a story, and massively improved my descriptive abilities. you can find some of my short stories under my writing tag, which is listed in my pinned post (not gonna mention it here so this post doesn't show up there). short stories are your friend, writing is your friend, and in my opinion research should be your own personal experiences rather than someone else's. figure out what works for you and roll with it.

3. THINK. when writing, everything should serve a purpose. don't include details that aren't needed. what's needed is certainly a subjective concept: plenty of dialogue that could be thrown out without impacting the plot in any way can serve to ease tension and to help define a character. think before you write, think while you're writing, and think after you've finished writing. plan out what you're going to do, not necessarily in total, but get a framework in your mind before you start clicking away at the keyboard. while you're writing, write consciously. make sure you're picking the best words for the sentence; not necessarily the most correct but the ones that carry your meaning best. and when you're done writing, make sure it all makes sense now that it's moved from your head to the paper. a story is the sum of its parts, and each part has to carry its own weight. make sure you know what you want to do with each paragraph.

[woopboopboop]

green is not only the colour of leaf

A/N: another florist harry content for the quarantine time! thank you for all the lovely responses on my previous post. hope you’ll like this one too. happy reading and for those who are celebrating, ramadhan mubarak! :D

TW: strong language, slight mention of death.

[florist!h went on a date and Y/N is mildly protective]

It's been months since Harry’s first visit to Y/N’s parents’ grave. For the following visits, at times, he will join her if he finds that the flower shop is barren from customers but not without asking her first. For her, his company is rather nice, a complete contrast to her usual silent walk to the graveyard.

It was quite awkward to have him during their first visit together since after knowing him for years, that is the first time ever he got to meet her parents. Not to mention that he is meeting with the representation of her parents: two marble headstones, instead of actual human beings. Not really an ideal way of introducing your parents to someone.

But after couple more visits, having Harry tagging along during the visit is a part of the routine. It becomes something that she is familiar with, very contrary to the newfound feelings that she has for him. That is something that she is not familiar with. Yet.

Their time together has been fine until the feelings becomes somewhat a knot and the butterflies start to flutter in her stomach. In the beginning, she blames it on the shop. Harry’s flower shop is tucked at the corner lot without any tall buildings surrounding it and has big glass windows covering majority of the shop which allows the sunlight to permeate from almost every corner of the shop.

The interior seems to be almost always bathed in natural glow of sunlight, creating a welcoming ambience. Thus, anywhere he is in the shop, she watches how the sunlight falls over his skin and highlights parts of his face in a pretty shimmer. With his laughs, soft curls, stupid jokes and accent, it’s hard to stop the knot from unravelling defiantly. The only thing that she can do is to slow it down. Maybe at this point, she needs to stop blaming the shop.

“So, how’s our plan tonight?” she asks the lads with the attempt to distract herself from her thoughts. In the shop, Harry is recutting flowers stems on the work table and Niall is rearranging some new arrivals in the cooler.

“I’m still up for it but Harry won’t be joining us.” She hears Niall says followed by the sound of the cooler being closed. She is about to go back on her phone when she heard the last part and the butterflies in her stomach seems to be flying low by then.

They were planning on having a movie night at Harry’s place later that night. She is excited because she got to finally spend some times with her friends and it is also a much needed escape from writing. Plus, it’s her turn to pick the movie that they are going to watch and she had chosen a horror story just to mess with both of them, especially Harry since he doesn’t like watching anything scary.

So, to hear that he is not going to be with them is a bummer. She thought that everyone’s schedule is clear? The last time she checked, everyone has agreed on spending the night together and that is why she is giving Niall a quizzical look but he doesn’t notice the look on her face because he is walking towards Harry.

Her eyes follow his movements from the cooler until he stands besides Harry. And when he starts to put one arm around the curly headed lad’s shoulders, she is getting more confused. “Wai – what?”

“Yeah. Apparently, someone has a date tonight,” Niall says in a sing song tone of voice as he pulls Harry close. On Harry’s face, there is a small smile forming. In her stomach, the butterflies seem to stop moving all together. A date?

The information somehow triggers a tinge of bitterness to appear in her mouth and tighten her chest. Shaking it off, she tries her best to play it cool. “Oh? Is that so, Eroda boy?” She can only hope that the nickname that she usually uses when teasing him and the wriggling of her eyebrows mask what she is feeling inside. Looking at it, there is no way that she is jealous. Nonsense.

There’s an accompanying blush on his cheeks now as he nods his head and scratches his ear.

“You… you didn’t tell me?” she asks playfully but the frown that appears on her face is deceiving. She didn’t mean to sound demanding but she kind of feel left out on the news. From across the room, Harry reads her face and this is the first time that they locked eyes since the beginning of the conversation.

There is something a bit off about her tone he noticed. The way she looks around the shop also shows that she is purposefully avoiding his gaze. But he thinks that there is nothing better than telling her the truth right then and there. “Um… It’s sort of a last minute date. Sorry that I didn’t tell both of you sooner.”

He is stuttering through his words a bit, looking back and forth between Y/N and Niall. She is not sure if it’s because he feels bad about not telling her sooner or because he is already nervous thinking about the date. Not wanting to make him feel bad for something that is not even a big deal, she waves him off with a grin. “Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

She then exhales loudly, looking down at her hands which makes Harry and Niall turns to her simultaneously.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks with a very concern look on his face.

“Nothing,” she shrugs then shifts her gaze to both of them, “It’s just that I’ve planned on scaring the shit out of you guys with the new horror movie. Guess, it’s just Niall tonight then?”

“Oh, hell no! No no no. I’m going to be picking up what we’re gonna watch tonight,” he protests, sliding off his arm from Harry’s shoulders and crossing both arms in front of his chest. Harry lets out a loud laugh at his sudden outburst and Y/N tries to stifle her own laughter by biting inside of her cheek.

She still taste the bitterness at the back of her mouth and decides that it is wise to shift her thoughts. When their laughter subsides, she immediately asks Niall, “Are we still going to go to Harry’s?”  

“Can we still go to yours?” Niall turns to ask Harry. It’s not like they live too far apart but Niall does have a good reason when he says that Harry’s place is better. The last time they went to Niall’s, the three of them ended up cramped in front of his laptop and the worst part is that he had no speaker so they ended up reading subtitles instead of watching the movie. And she doesn’t suggest her own place either since she hasn’t cleaned up her place just yet to let people come and hang around.

“Yeah, of course,” Harry answers his question with a shrug before Niall walks off to answer the ringing phone on the counter. Harry then looks at Y/N with pleading eyes and pursing lips, “Um… I also need your help with something.”

Despite his large frame, tattooed body (which is intimidating), he can be such a softie at times and the look on his face makes the butterflies in her flutter once more. “Anything for you, darling,” she says, exaggerating the pet name which in returns make him blush even more.

As soon as the bitter taste in her mouth reappears, she quickly swallows it. Even though she knows well that some of the Harry’s words are going to fall on her deaf ears and her mouth might taste bitter for the third or fourth times that day, she still asks, “So… who is this lucky lady that get to date this handsome friend of mine?”

//

“Just so you know,” Niall says, hands reaching out to the popcorn bowl on the coffee table and continues, “m’not sharing.” The popcorn bowl now sits well on his lap and one of his arms is holding onto the bowl.

Y/N scoffs and rolls her eyes seeing him hogging the bowl of popcorn to himself but she doesn’t do it with spite because that’s just how he is. Niall is always quite generous with other things, but not food. “Since when do you ever share, Niall? Hmm?” she jokes which earns her a kick on the side of the couch that she is sitting on.

They started the movie night a bit late after spending the first one hour helping Harry on what to wear on his date. If she is to be honest, he doesn’t really need any fashion advice since he is better than her when it comes to picking out outfit either for everyday look or for special occasions.

But he insisted on her help because to quote him, “It’s different, Y/N! At least you can tell me straight away what a girl like to see on a guy during first date!” to which she replied, “A good personality is enough, H. And I’m pretty sure you got that covered.” He had been pacing in front of her for a good minute and she was positive if he didn’t stop any sooner, there’s going to be a hole in the living room rug.

As if he knew that she wanted him to stop pacing, he stopped for a moment in front of her and without warning engulfed her in a big hug. But of course, after he said thank you, he was still worried on what to wear which left her no choice but to comply to his request.

“Which one do you think is okay?” he asked Y/N who was preparing their movie night snacks in the kitchen with Niall. He was standing under the archway that separates the living room and the kitchen holding two outfits in the air. On one hand, he had a dark blue velvet single-breasted jacket with black dress pants and on the other hand, he had brown double-breasted suit.

“The brown one looks nice,” she commented before continuing to rummage the cabinet for popcorn box.

“Yeah. Gotta agree with her,” Niall chimed in after eyeing at the brown suit.

With that, Harry skipped to his room bringing along the outfits and a cheerful smile on his face. While he gets changed, both of them settled themselves in front of the television in the living room.

“What movie do you wanna watch?”

She flips through the list of movies on screen, deciding to let Niall pick what they are going to watch that night. Since Harry is not there with them, she doesn’t find the idea of watching horror movie just to see them get scared is entertaining anymore. She could have a good laugh looking at Niall’s scared faces or listening to him scream after a jump scare alone but the thought is not as appealing.

Truth is, she keeps on drifting back to the thought of Harry having a date that night. He is indeed going to walk out that door looking dapper as hell and have a nice dinner with a girl (who she doesn’t remember anything about despite him telling her earlier that day except for her name which is Kate). Of course he is going to be a total gentleman too, that’s just how he is. She doesn’t know why she cares so much. It’s not something of her concern anyways.

Her wondering is then stopped by Niall’s suggestion to watch Step Brothers.

Half an hour into the movie, she is having a good laugh while Niall guffaws at almost everything that is happening on the screen and she can now understand why this is the twelfth time he watches the movie. It’s plain dumb humour but it certainly is delivered well.

“Guys?” Harry’s voice distracts them from the ongoing movie. Both of them turns to see him adorning the brown double-breasted suit completed with a blue button down shirt underneath a purple sweater since the weather is cold. He also has a pair of loafers on and two rings on his fingers; a rose and a cigar band ring. “What do you think?”

“Looking good, Harold!” Niall compliments him before sinking back to the armchair where he is sitting. His focus is now back on the television and the popcorn on his lap.

“You really do look good though. Clean up well,” she says with a smile, resting her chin on the top part of the couch cushion, looking at him. Well, admiring him to be honest but she is quick enough to not let any feelings simmer inside of her by glancing back to the movie on screen.

“Thanks!” The proud smile on his face is evident and she feels happy for him but at the same time, the bitterness starts to creep in again. “Well, I’m leaving,” he informs while walking to the front door and grabbing the essentials before leaving. “Don’t set my house on fire!” he says before the door is closed.

Y/N plops back on the couch, taking all the spaces, head resting on the armrest. Her eyes follow the characters movements on the screen but she is not really paying any attention as soon as Harry left the flat. The sounds of Niall’s laughter and the movie are drowned by the question that she has in her head.

“Niall?” she calls out and he lets out a short hum.

She rolls her head to the side and eyeing him carefully. “Do you know who the girl is? Kate?” she finally asks.

“I mean, a bit, yeah. She’s working at one of the boutiques near our shop.” His eyes are still fixated to the screen.

“How do they know each other?” she questions further as the curiosity gets the best of her.

“We send flowers to their boutiques. Sometimes they help with their clients’ wedding orders so they come to our shop. Guess they bond through that,” he shrugs, tossing popcorn into his mouth.

She nods her head, listening and also thinking the possibility of Harry sharing his random flower fun facts with Kate while they are eating their dinner like how he always shares them with her. She grimaces at the thought. She is pretty sure that the girl is nice but Y/N is not ready to share that special thing with other people.

“Why’d you ask?” He shifts his gaze from the screen to her and hearing that, she turns her head away from him to look at the television.

“Nothing. Just curious,” she says, hiding away her flustered expression with a shrug.

“Are you jealous?” There a teasing tone in his voice and that is never a good sign.

She sputters. “M’not jealous.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Excuse me, Horan?” she quirks her eyebrow at him. “If anything, I’m just mildly protective.” She mentally facepalm herself, regretting her words. Maybe she shouldn’t have said the last part but it’s too late to take it back since Niall is having a good time teasing her.

“I’m just mildly protective,” he repeats with a mocking tone while snickering.

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” She rolls her eyes which sends Niall into a bursting laughter.

//

She stirs from her sleep when she heard the front door opening and closing. The movie has long finished and when she looks next to her, Niall is out cold on the armchair. She doesn’t even remember falling asleep.

“Hey. I thought you guys had left,” Harry greets her with a low voice. He makes his way to the couch with blazer folded in his arms.

Making a space for him to sit down on the couch, she sits up, tucking her knees close to her chest and head resting on the top cushion. “Hi. Nope. Seems like we’re going to crash here tonight.”

He nods his head. They sit next to each other in silence before Harry sighs, back resting against the couch as he lolls his head next to hers, eyes staring to the front. It’s not like they have never been close before. But there’s something about their foreheads almost touching, his tired green eyes and musky scent of his cologne that makes the knot in her unravel a tad bit fast.

“How’s the date going?” she asks, turning her head slightly to face him.

He blinks slowly before tilting his head to meet her eyes, “T’was… good.” Despite the positive denotation of the words, his uncertainty penetrates through his voice.

Her eyebrows knit together thinking what could possibly go wrong during the date? Y/N feels bad knowing that his date is not working out but not completely though and she knows that it is wrong to do so. She studies his face before asking, “Something’s wrong?”

His fingers rakes through his curls and he sighs once again. “Dunno. Maybe it’s my fault?” It must’ve been bugging him since he is looking down at his fingers, twisting and turning the two rings. A habit that shows he has a lot in his mind.

“What d’you mean?” At this point, she is very confused of what had happened that makes him overthinks but after listening to his story, she couldn’t help but giggle. Apparently, Kate drew a line when it comes to too much flower talk during first date.

Hearing her giggling, he turns to her, pulling a face with bottom lips jutting a bit. “That’s not nice.”

“Sorry, H. But you’re such a dork when it comes to flowers,” she coos before giggling even more. Niall stirs a little maybe because of her not so soft giggling and so does the bowl of unfinished popcorn on his lap. Not wanting to risk the unfinished popcorn to spill, she lowers her voice and covers her mouth to stop herself from making any more noises. 

Still pouting, Harry tries to defend himself. “Hey, I don’t know what to talk about okay? M’nervous,” he mumbles, looking away.

Y/N lifts her head and turn her body to him slightly so that her side lies on the back of the couch. She then reaches out to cup his face in her hands. She couldn’t help but smile at his childish behaviour. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry for laughing at you.”

This time, he is still wearing the same expression, but she recognises the playful glint in his eyes when they meet hers. “You’re just milking it at this point, H,” she says, squeezing his face before letting her hands fell into her lap.

He shakes his head, smiling with dimple full on display. He stares at the ceiling, his smile flattering when he speaks again, “I really thought that it’s going to work. She’s a very nice girl.”

She doesn’t know what pain her when he said that. Is it the fact that he really make an effort to get this girl and fail or that it is not her. “I bet she is. But maybe the next date you’re on it’ll be better?” She offers to soothe whatever doubt he has in his head.

“Perhaps.” He yawns, sinking further into the couch while clutching his blazer closer to his chest.  

She returns to her original position; sitting back on the couch, head lolling on the top cushion, she is gradually drifting away.

Harry’s voice suddenly makes its way to her ears causing her to flutter her sleepy eyes open only to see him staring at the ceiling. “Remember when you say I look good earlier?”

She snorts thinking how on brand it is for him to ask random things when she thought that he has gone to sleep. “Yeah?”

There’s a long pause and she thinks that he is probably just sleep talking.

Feeling her eyes are getting heavy with sleep, she’s about to close her eyes when he starts to open his mouth to speak again. “Let’s make a deal. If I’m not married by 36 and so do you, let’s marry each other.” He deadpans, looking at her face intently.

And she swears her brain and heart and every other organ in her body stops working. All the sleep in her eyes just now vanished into thin air and she is left speechless. It takes her few moments to come back to her senses. He couldn’t be serious. It must be his sleepy brain she tells herself but she answers him nonetheless.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Alright, then. Cause I definitely would,” he says giving her a soft smile before closing his eyes.

If there’s anyone who is sleeping tonight, it would be Harry. And also, Niall. She’s not sure about herself though because she is pretty sure the “deal” that they agreed on just now are going to keep her awake for quite a while.

[tangled-cl0wn-core]

Where, besides Tumblr, can people find you doing fannish things? (Obviously only mention sites and usernames you actually want to be found at. Don’t expose your secret identities on my account.)

What other names have you gone by on these platforms, including Tumblr, if any?

When did you join the IT fandom? And what got you into fandom, to begin with?

What are your favorite ships, or characters, if any, and why? What do they mean to you?

In what ways do you participate in fandom? (ex. Posting memes, reblogging/commenting on content, writing fanfic, making fanart, creating fanmixes, etc.)

Do you have any in-fandom inspirations? Other members of the community that drive you? (And if you have the time/energy, in what ways do they inspire you?)

Name and link some of your favorite works, please!

Do you have any works of your own that you feel particularly proud of, or wish more people would’ve consumed? Please provide links if possible.

Have you ever participated in a fannish event (ie. IT Week, a fic Big Bang) or applied to be a part of a fanzine? If so, which ones, and can you please link them?

Without any form of bashing or lashing out, what is something you feel this fandom is missing?

 HI!! since you asked before sending it, I knew this was coming but my First Cool Guy Tumblr Ask is so neat,, anyway!!

This is my only IT-specific account, but I post almost everything I draw on my instagram, https://www.instagram.com/fabricsofteners/ (I don't know how people make links cool on tumblr aaa) I also have an AO3, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangledheadphonecord , where I might post this one really long fic I’m working on (maybe not, as it’s super lame but God am I putting in work)? But mostly it’s just really old stuff atm, and no IT content right now - just some random drabbles from past hyperfixations tbh.

I used to be ‘fabricsofteners’ everywhere besides here - tangledheadphonecord is a username I used for my tumblr because I want a change from the fabricsofteners brand, as I've had it for quite a few years and have just grown kind of bored - just waiting a bit to change my instagram user. I also used to be ‘unbrandedmarkers’ like, three years ago on instagram? but, that era ended fast. I think I might have an old Tumblr under some variation of ‘fabric softener’ but honestly even if anything is up on it I’d probably be embarassed to look at it now.

I watched IT for the first time in 2019, I believe, but wasn’t really in the fandom until actually like, April of this year. I entered the fandom and developed a hyperfixation (sobs) by complete mistake - I read all the fics for michael mell/rich goranski on ao3, and was on a camping trip and wanted to read some Homosexual Fanfiction and literally remembered IT on a whim (rich-to-richie association) and read a bunch of Reddie fics, and it was all down (up?) hill from there.

Unshockingly, I’m sure, Reddie is my number one favourite IT ship. I’m also an enjoyer of Benverly, as well as Stanley/Patty - IT is like, the only fandom where I actually like the canon ships. I do also think Streddie/Stozier is really cute and Bill/Mike (unsure of the shipname?) is nice when I see it!! I think Reddis is cute because I am a total sucker for best-friends-to-lovers, as well asthe  ‘I tease everyone but mostly you’ and the ‘I’m so tired of you bullying me but if you ever stop I’ll cry’ and... just, the entire dynamic that they have. Stanley/Patty - there is no reasoning, I just want Stanley to be happy. Benverly - the way they were each other’s first Meaningful Interactions in so like?? agony, they’re so cute. They both deserve to be happy, and I’m so happy they find that happiness in each other. 

As for characters - Richie is absolutely my favourite. I (unfortunately /hj) kin and relate to him on so many levels it hurts. Having a character that feels that fear of their sexuality because of a horrible environment is painfully real. covering up struggles with humour and all that?? yeah, mood (also, crushing on your best friend-). What he means to me, in a sense, isn’t really canon - I read strictly fix-it fics, because I want to feel that hope that like fanon Richie, I don’t have to hide forever. I can be myself and be happy. Obviously I can’t much look to the movies or anything for that but hey - what’re Andy or Stephen gonna do, tell me to stop reading fics? 

I also really like Stanley!! I don’t,, have a reason. I just think he’s adorable and I love his dynamic with the other Losers a lot. Stanley breathed like, once, and instantly became a comfort character and not even I know why at this point, he just is. Eddie & Bev are up there, too - honestly, Bill is the only Loser I don’t have a strong attachment too. And honestly, he’s growing on me rapidly.

I mostly draw whatever my goblin hyperfixated brain can think of, as well as rebloging just about every post that I see and like (art, jokes, edits, fics, etc.) - I start and stop a lot of fics, maybe one day I’ll finish one but as of yet I have not... Sigh.

I honestly don’t think I do have anyone to tag for inspiration? I follow IT blogs but none I would go to for inspiration (no offense to any mutuals-) inspiration for me is mostly just seeing a pose and going ‘okay’ and suddenly I have a drawing - I have no clue what happens in between.

So, my current all-time favourite IT fic atm is https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213215/chapters/43087232, though I will say it’s a really heavy fic and to read with caution. Going away from Angst, any ‘famous Reddie’ AUs are amazing, but I constantly reread the entire https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560019 series. It’s cute and funny and I THRIVE for domestic Reddie content. 

Actually not Reddie, I throughly enjoyed https://archiveofourown.org/works/23201011 for giving me the Mike content the movies have robbed me of for too long, as well as https://archiveofourown.org/works/25262698 which is pure stanlon greatness and made my heart flutter for the boys more than once.

I don’t really have any IT fics up of my own creation, and honestly my reception in way of Tumblr notes is far better than I expected so honestly, I have none to link lol. As long as I get minimun interaction I will thrive.

I wish I could say I’ve been in anything like a zine or anything, but I have not! I’m relatively new to the fandom (and having a social media dedicated to one thing) so I wouldn’t even know where to begin to join or be qualified for one, y’know? I’ve done art weeks in the past and found them incredibly fun but haven’t seen any for IT - but if anyone does happen to know of any... Feel free to send them my way-

As for the last question - other than like, hyping up Chosen and Jeremy just as much as we do the other IT kids (which, honestly I’m not even sure if is still a problem - I’ve just seen posts about it and it’s made me wary), I’m not sure? I’ve honestly not encountered anything in the fandom I find awful and honestly, for a fandom about a movie that is... Well, IT, I’ve really just kind of enjoyed my time in the fandom thus far?

(I will say we need 200% more attention being drawn to 1990s adult Eddie Kaspbrak, who is one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen - but I also feel that way about James Ransone, so I’m not mad.)

(Also, we should be calling out the 1990s IT more, I watched it recently and it’s so bad /lh)

Anyway!! I feel like this answer was incredibly long and I am so sorry!! But like, thank you so much for asking me anything at all fihabsfhbafb I thrive at any chance to talk about the dumb clown movie. (Also, i’m sorry I say ‘honestly’ so much-)

[itwillbeall-dwight]

sonata no. 4

kate denson/yui kimura; fluff; love confessions; music performances; 3085 words

a/n: bro i love country roads so much do you Know how much i do. do you know.

i’ve been sitting on this one for a while, i’ve been kinda nervous to post it because this isn’t something i relate to as a trans mlm. but i think i did a good job! they deserve so much happiness. also this is a call for kate to please call me god ma’am you are So pretty.

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: “Well, uh… any requests?” She seemed almost sheepish now that she sat there, self-conscious that the old thing was oddly silent.  Yui leaned against the top of the piano, folding her arms atop it and resting her chin on them. “Go wild. Beside you singin’, I’ve never… heard your music.” “You’re not missin’ much.” “I’m sure I am.” She looked up with a soft smile, face going a little red as she cleared her throat, hands hovering over the keys as she muttered to herself, before she began to play. 

Another day, another trial in the fog, four poor souls fighting for their lives for the entertainment of some eldritch crowd. This time, the dusty horizons of Glenvale were the sight of such an event; the trial ground mostly silent aside from the occasional scream of pain from one of her fellow survivors. Though that hadn't been often - thus far, with two generators powered up and ready to go, the four of them running circles around the Hag, the poor forest witch so out of her element amongst the dust and sand of the American wild west. That wasn't going to make them pity her, though, and her bony fingers still swiped at them like claws, and she still growled with the same hunger and malice, seeming to only grow angrier with each failed attack.

 The gentle creaking of the nearby hook from a silent wind was only drowned out by the sounds of turning gears and electrical sparks, the smell of rusted copper wires carrying up to her nose and making it wrinkle as she gently crossed over another pair of wires, routinely, as she had learned to do from her trials before. From the corner of her eye, sunkissed arms reached out from the depths of the generator to pull down a nearby leaver and turn a crack, listening to the machine groan and sigh before it purred to life, lights atop it flickering on to signal the third one down-

Before she could stand to her feet and revel in the small victory, the gentle yet surprised yelp to her side caused Yui to look down the trap door atop the gallows down at Kate, now sitting on the dusty ground below, rubbing her tailbone with a pained wince on her face.

"Break your back, cowboy?" She called down, with a small smirk on her face, squatting with her elbows resting on her knees.

The singer looked up with a pained grin, laughing weakly, that in itself sounding like music. "S-sorry... kinda forgot it did that.

Yui chuckled a little, trying not to pay attention to the way her face glowed when she smiled, hoisting herself down the hole with a bend of the knees and a light thud, before holding a hand out to help Kate to her feet.

Which she took. Her hands were soft, like silk, and her grip was somehow both delicate and firm as she pulled herself up to stand, taking a moment to almost shake her hand before pulling it away and resting it on her hip.

(Yui hoped she didn't notice the way she instinctively moved to grab it again, just to hold it for a little bit longer.)

"Well, those generator's ain't gonna finish themselves, huh? Let's get  a move on." Her instructions were like honey - sweet, and thick with kindness and a southern twang that was distractingly enticing.

But she held it together, just enough, to nod. "Yeah, got it. Saloon?"

The other survivor nodded, a default sweet small befalling her features. "Great idea, hon." 

After the two had checked along the horizon of the dusty town to find nothing more than a loose tumbleweed, Kate led them through the back of the saloon, where even the sound of her boots against the old rotting floor, or the way she talked to herself as she dispelled out the talisman's left in the wood with her flashlight was enough to make the stonecold expression so default to Yui's face soften.

 So she had a crush on Kate Denson. Who wouldn't? The girl was perfect, practically untouchable, even in the fog, always excited for a new adventure in every trial and willing to try anything more than once, always celebrating when they escaped but never solemn or disheartened when they didn't, always willing to lend an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on, and never short of a song to get everyone happily singing along. Yui'd had crushes before (she was only human, after all), but never like this - they were always fleeting, passing by before she would care to even give them a chance, her work and ambitions drowning her. But here in the fog, there was no tarmac, no smell of burning rubber or old gasoline, the only roaring not coming from old dirtbikes but from whatever monster of the week wanted them dead... but with Kate, she was head over heels for her, and wanted more than anything to be her girl, to be the wind on her back, but somehow always knew there would never be a chance. Maybe that's why she hesitated, even with a thousand chances.

 She was so caught in her thoughts that she didn’t realise that Kate had stopped walking in front of her, bumping into her back with a quiet litter of a sheepish apology before stopping. “Hey, Denson?”

“Huh?” She seemed to snap out of her own head and look back to Yui, before glancing around. “Oh! Oh, right. Generator.”

“What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing bad, just…” Kate looked back in front over her, as Yui looked over her shoulder and followed her eyes to the old piano, the racket as if someone was falling on the damn keys, over and over. 

“...You play?”

“Vaguely. Helps to tune your guitar, gives it somethin’ to tune it to, ya know? I did lessons as a kid, ‘n my mom would take me to recitals with a camcorder and freak out every time.” She laughed, that sweet honey laugh, that slowly fizzled out into a sound that came from sadness. “...I kinda miss playin’, sometimes.”

That made sense. Yui knew the feeling; tearing up the road on a bike wasn’t the same as kicking up dirt running on adrenaline from an asshole with a knife, but it was the closest she was ever gonna get until they got out of here. Her hands hovered over Kate’s shoulder’s for a moment, before she gently placed them there, weathered palms holding perfect skin, warm to the touch. “We’ll figure somethin’ out. For now though-”

“Generator. Right. You’re not subtle.”

“...Sorry.”

Kate giggled, shaking her head in dismissal, not really minding the acknowledgement of her reminiscing was far from the point of them being there, letting herself be pushed upstairs to the generator on the balcony.

 They were mostly quiet, though Yui did ask for her to talk about the piano more, mostly just to hear her voice. The things Kate was saying didn’t entirely make sense to her (she was never the most musical, but understood when things sounded nice, at the bare minimum), but hearing her sound so excited was more than enough.

The conversation eventually stopped, shifting as Adam came to join them, short of breath and bleeding through his coat, medkit in hand and asking for assistance, which Kate was happy to give. Yui kept her focus on the generator, as best she could, but the ghosts playing the piano just below her kept catching her ear. And as Kate came back to the generator, happily talking to the teacher that now joined them as if they weren’t in a trial trapped in the old west, she knew what she wanted to do.

 They escaped with relative ease, the struggling with never really catching up with them, all four of them escaping with some new items in hand, thanks to Zarina, who had done an excellent job keeping the Hag occupied in the dusty streets. Yui hadn’t seen Kate much for a while after that. When one was busy, the other was not, and when one was enduring a trial, the other was scouting out a realm for any clues to their escape (routine exercise). But that was fine, in terms of her little plan - the less she saw, the better. And besides, she didn’t think Kate would notice, or even care. But soon, they spoke again, after another group of four were sent to fight for their lives.

 “Hey, uh, Yui?” Her sugary sweet voice gave the survivor a start, jumping as she was cleaning a flashlight from the small pile she’d accrued.

“Ah- oh, uh… hey.”

“Hi! Uh… can I ask you somethin’?”

For a moment, her mind jumped to the best-case scenario, but Yui cleared her throat before she could daydream any more on that. “Um, sure?”

“Have you seen… any coins?”

“...Coins?”

She nodded. “Well, Jake was checking through the stock and, uh… says we’re missin’ a few. Haven’t seen him that riled up about somethin’ since… well, ever.”

Yui almost laughed. “That boy is a damn dragon, I swear.”

“Think he likes to just… have things.”

“Things like coins we can’t even use?”

“Well… yeah.”

Yui scoffed a little, rolling her eyes before she put the flashlight down on the log beside her, resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward where she sat, looking up at the singer. “I… have an idea. But you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I… OK? You can tell me anything-”

“No, no,” she cut her off. “...I want you to come with me, somewhere. Just the two of us.”

She raised an eyebrow. Yui quickly picked up on the signal.

“...Nothing bad, promise.” The street racer offered a hand, beckoning with a slight movement of her fingers.

She took her hand with hesitation, though quickly squeezed it to affirm her choice. Yui gave her a small smile, hoping it wasn't shaky, before standing to her feet and leading her away into the forest, taking a path with downtrodden leaves, as if she’d taken it before.

 It wasn’t long until the fog cleared again, old leaves crunching under their feet replacing with the grains of sand and dust, trees becoming rotting wooden buildings, while the sky above them twinkled with stars, no air pollution in sight.

“...The saloon.” Kate said from behind her, as Yui stopped them in the walkway just in front of the imposing building. “Is there something here?”

“I… yeah, in a way. ...Look, you wouldn’t tell Jake-”

“Yui, you didn’t…”

“It’s not like we need them anyways! ‘Sides, I thought that old cowboy might appreciate ‘em, and then I could, ya know… negotiate.”

“...For what?”

“Well… the piano.” She cocked her head back towards the instrument, before looking back at the singer, who’s face had softened a little bit from the lecture she was about to give. “You said you missed playing, and you give so much to everyone else, so I thought…”

As the street racer trailed off, Kate smiled, cupping her hand between two of her own, and shaking it. “Well, that’s… mighty kind of you.”

“Y… yeah.” With a free hand, she rubbed the back of her neck, before letting herself be led inside, to the piano, noticing that as Kate sat down, she was hesitant to move her hand away, to flex her fingers and prepare herself.

 “Well, uh… any requests?” She seemed almost sheepish now that she sat there, self-conscious that the old thing was oddly silent. 

Yui leaned against the top of the piano, folding her arms atop it and resting her chin on them. “Go wild. Beside you singin’, I’ve never… heard your music.”

“You’re not missin’ much.”

“I’m sure I am.”

She looked up with a soft smile, face going a little red as she cleared her throat, hands hovering over the keys as she muttered to herself, before she began to play.

It was a slow song, soft and loving, and though she was rusty and stumbled her words as she missed a key or hit a wrong note, she still powered through. Yui watched her face, the way she performed even when no one was watching, and how her music really was like sugar and honey, sweet and enticing. She tilted her head and smiled to herself, looking at the features on Kate’s face with a deep, profound love, as if she could stand there and listen to her forever - and she would, if forever was the time they had.

 She finished with a bittersweet note, slowly opening her eyes and looking up to Yui, face flushing a little from the way she was staring at her. “It’s… nothing special. Just a little somethin’.”

“Well, it sure sounded special, to you. And that makes it special.”

“I… guess? Thank you, Yui.” She gently pulled the cover back over the keys, resting her elbows on it. “It was based on a… dream, I had. I remember writing that on the school bus and working on it all day, ‘cos a teacher of mine tried to take the sheet music off’a me when I wasn’t payin’ her mind… can’t stop me grabbin’ it back when she left the room though.”

“Dick.”

She laughed, nodding in agreement though never saying it outright, gentle laughter fading into silence and a soft smile that they shared before the singer averted the gaze put on her.

 “What was the dream about?”

“Hm?” She looked back again, as Yui was still looking at her.

“The dream you had, about that song. What was it?”

“Are you… sure you want to hear it?”

“Kate, we have as much time as we want. Only the ghosts’ll hear you.” Yui pressed her back against the side of her piano, folding her arms across her chest. “C’mon.”

The musician took a pause, sucking in a breath and then letting it out slowly, before she caved and told her tale. “It was… a drive, some red car with the roof sawed off, a crappy convertible that can’t withstand the rain. Ferrari, I think. We were going pretty fast. It was twilight, against the backdrop of the ocean from the cliffside, the pinks and oranges were so… vibrant and free. I stuck my head out of the window and yelled, you know, like a drunk girl at a concert, came back in with my hair across my face, smile stuck to me. S-she was smiling too, my sunset lover. Auburn hair, cut in a bob, sunglasses so big you could hardly see the freckles that dusted her cheeks. Plump lips with bright red lipstick. A dazzling smile. She moved her hand from the gearstick to hold mine, brushed her thumb against my knuckles. She smelled like… pineapples? Or mangos. It was a tropical smell. Very fruity, and nice.”

Yui watched her twirl a bit of her hair between her fingers, face going a little pink as she recalled her dreams, the light dusting of the blush overlaying the freckles and reminding the street racer just how deep she was.

“We pulled up to a car park, near some old beach bar I think, right in front of a bamboo fence that separated the tarmac and the sand. She reached in the back to grab her sunhat - ya know, one of those big floppy things - but I grabbed it from her first, and after she playfully tried to get it back to me, our faces were so, so close… I could smell her fruity smell, and I… we kissed. God, it was like heaven, it was like the world was nothing but at the same time everything, because she was… well, she was it. I dropped her hat out of the window and I’m sure the wind stole it, but I didn’t care. She didn’t care.”

 Yui looked down as she finished, watching Kate fiddling with her hands as her elbows leaned against the piano, trying not to look too embarrassed but failing miserably. It was almost adorable. She swallowed. “...Does it have to be a car?”

“Huh?” Kate looked up to her. The other survivor averted her gaze.

“T-to go on your twilight beach trip, does it have to be in a car?”

“I.. I suppose not? Why does it matter?” She blinked, and paused… before a shy smile spread across her face. “Yui, you-”

“I just- I have… a bike. Means a lot to me. I’ve taken a lot of girls for a ride, but I’ve never… rode to the beach before… maybe, you know, if we make it out of here, I can… take you to that beach.” She fiddled with her collar, forcing herself to meet Kate’s eyes, feeling the heat on her face. She took a breath, before taking to shooting her shot. “...Maybe I can be your sunset lover.”

 Everything else was a rush after that, but at the same time everything around them seemed to stand still. Kate ran hand down Yui’s arm, her touch like silk and skin like sunshine despite the dirt and grime of the fog, fingertips brushing against her softly and delicately before she held onto Yui’s hand, looking down at her perfect nails and running a thumb over her knuckles before she looked up to the other woman through her eyelashes, the smile she had never leaving her face, like an invitation to come in closer. An invitation which Yui took with grace, as with her free hand she cupped the singer’s cheek, moving down to plant a kiss on her lips, one that was slow and tasted like sweet fruits, as she’d always imagined it would, moving her hand down to hold onto Kate’s hip as she still sat at the piano. As she pulled away, she couldn’t help but smile, feeling the other survivor’s lips twinge into a smile of her own as she took Yui’s chin between her forefinger and thumb, grip both firm and gentle and oh so welcome, keeping her close and looking deep into her eyes, her other hand interlocking with the street racer’s that she still held, going in for another kiss; quick, and sweet, before letting her move away again, moving her hand to twirl her curls (perfect and blonde as ever), between two fingers.

“I… wow.” She was breathless, looking down for a moment.

“Yeah?” Yui laughed, then making the singer giggle in response, rubbing the back of her neck rather sheepishly - why did she say that?

Didn’t seem to matter much, though, as Kate seemed… almost… charmed. “...Yeah.”

 She stood to her feet, looking down at the hands still intertwined, gently rocking the union back and forth before she felt a forehead pressed against her own, the two of them sharing a smile that no one else would see, by the window of the old saloon. Well, no one except the old cowboy who had just returned, watching them from across the way, flipping an old, coin in between his fingers.

[0reblogufufu0]

Spoilers For IPYTM EP 3 Ahead!

Hi! I’m back from the first thirty minutes with many..mixed? thoughts, I guess you could call it? Let’s just get in to it, because there’s a lot here.

Firstly, I wanted to address more all the hate that came out with this episode. I haven’t got to the part everyone hated yet, but I can see the build up, and have heard people talking about it all day, yelling in the tags behind gifs, and posting angry faced emojis under Nadao’s Instagram posts for the series. I’ve watched a few series’ while they were still coming out, My Engineer, Still 2gether, Color Rush, etc, but I’ve never seen this much hate circulate so fast. People were so upset about the episode before the subs even came out everyone was condemning the director and saying IPYTM as well as it’s predecessor ITSAY was ruined now because of it. I’m not gonna say anyone’s opinion is wrong, especially considering all the negative stuff I’m about to say about the series/the episode, but I wanted to mention this because, whether I meant for it to or not, seeing all of it definitely affected my opinion. Now, for the review. There’s too much here, is the simplest way to describe it. There’s too much here they’re trying to accomplish, trying to establish, trying to break then make over again. I always said since the first review that this format they were going for was going to be hard to work with, but I stuck by it with hope after the first episode, because I thought so long as stuff worked in a compilation like style, even if the story wasn’t the most well developed, we at least were getting what we came for, Teh and Oh-aew’s life and relationship after ITSAY in college. But, this episode, especially compared to the others, is moving much, much slower than that, already breaking the mold, thus making it harder to work with, again. The episode, like every other one, starts with a time skip. I believe this one is 8 months, just like the one at the end of the last episode, but I can’t entirely remember.  I at least want to give the series props for sticking by the problems it brought up last episode in Oh-aew and Teh’s relationship, specifically Teh’s view of the relationship in light of Oh-aew developing as a person away from things like acting and doing spur of the moment things like getting a tattoo. We’re made immediately aware that things have not gotten any better since last episode, and instead have gotten worse. Not just problem wise, but also communication wise between the two. They each have issues in their relationship that instead of relaying with one another they tell their friends in hopes of mending things.  The tone jumps around so much this episode, you could sue it for giving you whiplash. Like, I understand why it is all there, but even just the framing between scenes with Teh, scenes with Oh-aew, scenes with Teh and Oh-aew, you feel it immediately each time in a way that is almost awkward, because you jump from homely stuff with Oh-aew and his friends with the backdrop of his insecurities around Teh, to Teh making the most somber expressions ever while he attempts to remember what love feels and looks like while acting. The immediate thought I had when Teh was writing in his journal was how nonchalant he mentions that he loves Oh-aew. Like, of course, something like that is supposed to be a given by now, but it hits me more as a cope than as the truth. He thinks it, writes it down without giving meaning to it, rather saying like he’s convincing himself of it, or comforting himself with the idea of things not being all bad before he adds a ‘but’ and talks about how things have changed. Compared to last episode where Teh’s fear of change causes him to blow up, here, he’s curled in on himself, hiding it from Oh-aew, while he repeats it in his mind over and over, like he’s trying to tell himself to get used to it, but he can’t. He’s obsessing over it so much he can hardly look back on things with Oh-aew because he can’t help but think ‘things aren’t like that anymore’. There’s lots of fear here, not just in the change that has already happened, but also all that he worries will come, like his feelings for Oh-aew changing any more in a way he can’t shrug off. Oh-aew is trying his best to hold things together on his end to, inserting himself wherever he can into Teh’s life to make it easier for him to find space for them in the wake of their passions being different now, and he’s stuck between thinking he shouldn’t push it and that things should be better than they are. I don’t think Teh actually likes Jai, just like everyone else doesn’t. He’s looking at Jai as a comfort, as a constant. It’s hard to think about it properly because of how the time moves so fast, but he’s known Jai for over a year now and Jai has consistently been there guiding him along the way of acting when Khim left and so did Oh-aew. He’s clinging to Jai as a constant unchanging thing, not a person. He’s looking for all he’s lost in Oh-aew, and in Khim to be in him. Now, all this is fine and dandy, on the surface, since it makes sense for the characters and is technically built to, but it’s all so shortly done and everything is going from 11 to 111 so fast you can’t wrap your head around anything concretely. All of it is there, but it is sublte, and again, not properly maintained because of the route the series is taking with time. I said this in the beginning too, that no problems would be able to last for long because of all this, but they’re still trying it and it’s not working very well because everything is fine, then it’s bad, then it’s a little okay, then it’s horrible, all the while the series jumps around over and over. It’s just a mess, really. Gonna be honest though, from the trailers I always thought Oh-aew would have relationship troubles more harshly than Teh, but, here we are! Gonna go finish up the episode now, hopefully it’s not as bad as people say.

[stipethom]

I wrote some Cablepool fics some months ago but proofreading is such a bitch, so they were incomplete for now. I’m just gonna post some parts of it and hopefully there are more Cablepool people who loves mpreg as I do.

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In summary, Mpreg theme uses pregnancy to describe how women and gender/sex minorities are impregnated with the unspeakable powers of patriarchy. Pregnancy is not just a biological phenomenon; it symbolizes embodied experiences, where women’s body is changed and exploited as it bear the burden of child labor. And by forcing such changes upon male body, it declares that any sex and gender that is seen less than a “man” can thus be a “woman”, and that whoever they are their struggles and pains are similar to that of women’s in this world.

In mpreg fics, there’ll be tears, fight, divorce, and broken hearts. It’s fan-favorite melodrama. It’s barnyard humor. It’s self-service to the writer’s own kink.

It is all of these. Or, it’s none of these.

-

They put all kinds of wires to link Wade with medical equipments. X-rays him, scans him, takes some blood from him. They declares that what’s inside Wade is not a parasite. Not another tumor nor a clog. It is, as the tag suggests, a fetus.

Some other X-students gathers as soon as the word is out: the Deadly mouthy ‘pool’s pregnant. The next session, Wade is unhappy with the amount of audience in the supposed waiting room, looking expectedly at him. From hindsight, it’s better they were there at the time, to spare Wade the horrors of explanation.

Unplanned male pregnancy should have been a comic relief since it’s Deadpool. But when the results indicate that it belongs to a certain Nathan Summers, who recently died, it is no longer a joke.

Cyclops, as his role in any other Cablepool fics, has to be the last one to know it. He learns of the identity of his future grandchild and immediately decides to rushe back to the mansion to confront whatever nightmare awaits him. He briefly talks to Hank, in order to prepare himself before talking to Wade. Eventually, a consultation team that comprises of Cyclops and Beast visits Wade’s at his apartment, who just comes back with discounted pregnancy tests from CVS.

“We must talk about your condition, Wade.” Scott says solemnly.

“Sorry, Grandpaclops, will remember to use protection next time. Guess I should never underestimate dicks from the future.”

Scott clenches his teeth. His expression is hidden under his ruby optics, but Wade can see the tiny creases around his mouth, and he gets the feeling that Scott is anxious. Ans so, so very tired. Hank clears his throat and starts talking about his discoveries. Half of his talk is explaining his daring theory of why life form can be conceived inside a male’s body, which Wade doesn’t listen to. The other half is some warmings on what a pregnant man should not do. Given Wade’s profession and personality, Hank makes 100% sure that Wade listens to him. Scott seems to be holding breath as the other mutant talks with a professional calmness.

The talk ends with “We still don’t know exactly how it happened, but It’s going to be a big responsibility—your responsibility.”

Scott tries again. He keeps his voice strategically even, a little raspy than usual, as if he practiced this conversation in front of a mirror too many times.

“It’s yours, as much as it’s Nathan’s. It’s up to you to ... keep it.”

“Or you can move into the X-mansion—”Hank stops promptly when Wade starts laughing.

“So your guys are what, showing parental support for the guy your son never actually married, and you never even doubt it’s a parasite?”

“We ruled out that possibility.” Hank says, “you know, you don’t have to do this.” He pauses briefly, making sure every sentence is carefully worded. “After what happened, you—in fact, nobody should do this alone. It’s unfair that you have to deal with it on your own.”

Great, now they think of Wade as some mourning ex-lover of Nate’s. He has to find something witty to say, or he’ll just embarrasses himself in front of these two good-intentioned, somewhat guilty-looking X-men. There’s a sorry somewhere that he can reads directly from the thin air, sorry we are so sorry for pushing you away, we are sorry we didn’t accept you—and ignored your feelings— now we are here to make it up for you. No, this ain’t right. They don’t know about him and Nate. All they see is this, which makes them assume all kinds of things about them, about Wade, that Wade doesn’t even want to think about.

He decides to take advantage of their out-of-no-where-guilt because it is better than pity, “OK, wait, is this the part where we hug and cry on each other’s shoulders? I have a feeling there’s always a but. Besides, Hank, you just violated the confidentiality agreement without my consent!”

“I’m truly sorry, it’s an unprecedented situation.” Hank tries not to look shameful. “And, no, no buts. All we’re offering is a place to rest before the, that is, if you want to keep it, It’s very important when it comes to—“

“Nathan’s spawn.” Wade helps him finish the sentence. “That’s why you X-men fucking care. “

Cyclops doesn’t say a word, but he thinks so loud, he is practically radiating sadness and anger, and worst of all, the anger is not even directed at Wade.

Wade snaps.

“Tell you what, I’m gonna fucking keep this little shit till it’s got eyes and fingers and then I’ll fucking abort it! I’ll put it in a filthy jar and sell it to Mister Sinister, and it will be none of your fucking business!”

—

Of course Wade didn’t abort it. And he did move into the X-mansion.

Everyone seems worried. After all, X-men are worried all the time—but they also look slightly relieved. If Wade ignores the eyes they are giving him, the whispers they exchange when they think he is not looking, he almost feels nothing has changed at all.

The big question, after the several years after Nate died, still hangs in the air. Every time someone looks at Wade, there’s a why in their eyes. A mutant like Nate, who is supposed to be a man of proper taste and good integrity, the reasons that he chose to be with Wade is unthinkable.

Any sane human would tell Nate what he did is ridiculous. Like the voice in the back of Wade’s mind. It tells Wade all the time that he cannot possibly believe that him and Nate could last any longer—or long enough to have any consequences.

Being pregnant is not the consequences. It’s the last one of the bad decisions he’s made after all the other ones. He knows the voice is right, and his life sucks mostly because he doesn’t listen to it. This time, he feels a certain remorse satisfaction in disobeying the remaining sense of reason in his head.

Keeping the baby to prove a point is as desperate as it’s poorly intended.

He knows how fucked-up this is.

—

In hindsight, it’s fucking creepy that Wade, Copycat, and Domino all slept with Nate.

Here she is, gonna pop open that can of worms.

Domino has to come to him at his most inconvenience. She knocks three times on the door, each time more curt and determined. She will probably shoot a hole in the wall to make a new door if he doesn’t let her in.

Wade opens the door, grimaces at the way she look at him and meet his eyes. He is a good few inches taller than Dom, but he never feels big in front of her.

She brings in an air of feline elegance and the fresh scent of hair shampoo. It’s endearing for her to allow people to see her like this, yet not entirely unguarded. He catches the innuendo of a more secret, private conversation.

Her eyes touch him lightly, hair flares with the effortless chic style many would be jealous of. There are a hundred things Wade lacks that she owns.

The night is getting dark and the wind is getting wild, he probably should close the window before the storm.

Dom is less of a coward than him, who could barely come up to people and tell them the truth. That he got himself into this long before he understood the true meaning of having someone and then losing them.

She is pretty and deadly as always, not jadded by battles and gunfire. She looks at him with a sadness of someone who think they have the pieces of a puzzle that Wade misses. Or at least they think they know.

“Why do you keep him, the baby—.” She leans against the wall, arms crossed. “He’s not going to be Nate. Nate is not here anymore.“

“Wow, wow, lady, now you’re just projecting too hard.”

“Wade, look. It took me a hell lot of drinking to accept that he’s really gone this time.” She keeps her voice steady and manages to be soft at the same time. “I hear you talk to him like, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m not projecting.”

“Just so you know, I talk to my tummy all the time. Totally healthy habit. Been like this since I’m in my mom’s womb.”

“You’ve been talking to him and you sounded like—never mind.” Now she is just being weird. Wade feels offended that someone dare to outweird him without his royal permission. “The baby—you are drowning him with things he’s not part of.”

“Drowning would be a damn boring way to die.” He comments. “In fact, I’m whispering murder thoughts to him so he can grow up into a killing machine. A cyborg one. Just like his dad.”

“Wade, I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Oh sure, you’re here to remind me to invite you for the baby shower, which I am seriously going to reconsider with the guest list.”

A strip of dark hair falls on her cheek as she hesitates.

“You know why I’m here.”

Honestly, Wade’s fed up with this. He didn’t respond, instead, he peels off his mask, challenges her to look directly into his eyes.

She looks flustered, but her thin shoulders are as still as granite. This close, Wade can see how her breast heaves under her loosely-fit shirt. It fucking hurts when he rips through her facade and finds something a lot like the reflection of his own pains. They both had Nate in the past, and now that Nate is the past, they are weirdly equal. They had different Nates, but Wade wants all the Nates.

The voice in his head is so loud that he can barely think his own thoughts. Is that why he came to her after Wade left Providence, for her is smart enough to ask for only what she deserves?

Does she come here to pity Wade, or is she seeking compassion from Wade? He feels an old, dull bitterness creeping up his spine.

Domino backs off a little, “I never liked you.” She says. They both know it, so it’s not really a confess. Something is blown in to the window, making a cracking sound. Both of them shiver. “I couldn’t believe it was you, of all people. “Oh, so she did care. She was not as nonchalant as she pretends to be. “But now you are-you are not just yourself-I don’t want to fight you anymore.”

It stings.

“Does that mean I can finally make your face my new bathroom tiles? Because I love baby poo on black and white.” He quirks a smile. “Oh, And by the way, I reject your nanny application. Bring your broom next time.”

“You hate me for a dead man.” She says dryly, “what does that make you...”

Her voice hitches.

“What does that make us. If we are still loyal to him.”

The wind is loud, and others must be awakened by the noises by now. If wind could talk, it must be full of broken sentences, murmuring and fleeing from the untrimmed trees, circulating in the flying dirt and the waving foliage. Some sleepless mutant girls on the second floor mutters in an annoyed voice.

Dom reaches out to him. Her arms are pale but firm. They are suddenly within the distance of a kiss. He feels his cracked lips nearly brushes hers like a breath.

She jumps back, hitting the nearest surface to her face. The window panes creak from the shockwave, sending the whole room whirls. For a moment they were close enough to dig out each other’s heart. The framed painting falls to the ground in broken pieces behind them. It is relatively intact until Neena steps on it.

“A hard loser, aren’t you.” Wade breathes.

Neena just smiles.

“It’s just you who can’t let go.”

She stubbles on the cracked frame before storming into the bathroom. Wade hears the hot water pours out of the faucet and makes maps of mist on the hanging mirror. Her reflection from the mirror shifts, and from Wade’s angle, he can see her tears.

A small sob sound leaks out of her beautiful mouth. Wade feels envious yet again. He doesn’t understand why it changes how Dom sees him, as if sharing pain with him would be some comfort for both of them. But it doesn’t, he wants to scream, and it shouldn’t. He hears other mutant kids are giggling through the wind, and he is so, so envious of them.

Before he closes his eyes, he feels a light patting on his shoulders, and then all the light runs out with the slapping of the door.

He knows this is fucked-up.

“Nate,“ he murmurs, “If you don’t plan yo come back, I don’t think I can survive this—your too-young-too-be-dad dad, your ex-girlfriend, and your very possessive and angry daughter who refuses to meet me yet—I now understand why you want to elope with me into the future. I’ll forgive you for never asking me to actually run with you, but I know you always wanted to.“

“It’s fucking worse when people try to care. They don’t know you. They don’t know how fucked up you are. All they want is to keep a memoir, and I’m their freaking memoir. What did we have, sweetheart, did we ever agree on anything, huh? Did you even think about what it would be like for us to be together long enough to have consequences?”

“You see, Nate, I’m the one living with the consequences now. Except that you’re not here.”

[popculturebuffet]

Analysis of X: Maurader’s #1 “I’m on a Boat”

Ahoy Muties! I’m Jacob Mattingly and in moving to Tumblr and print, this is my first text review. As for this segment, welcome to Analysis of X, where I cover the dawn of x and onward as it happens. I will get to X-Men #1 as I wasn’t sure wether to review it late or not soon enough, but for now I felt it best to start with Dawn of X’s first non-hickman stab at greatness, Gerry Duggan and Matteo Lolli’s pirate themed Mauraders. Come aboard after the break. 

So Mauraders begins a few months back, with our book’s headliner Kitty Pryde, and her future teammates, close friend and surrogate mom Storm and ex-boyfriend and her best buddy, my faviorite X-Man and organizer for orgies on Krakoa: Nightcrawler, ready to head to Krakoa. For those two of you who didn’t read house of x or couldn’t afford it and powers, understandable the current status quo is simple: Mutantkind has formed it’s own nation on their former enemy Krakoa, the island that walks like a man but currently dosen’t because several people would fall off, and have planted gates globally so mutants can come to their new eden, finally done with all the racist genocidal bullshit mankind has put them through. Kitty tries to come along  But welll....

Instead of letting her in for some reason Krakoa instead says come on and SLAM and your not welcome to the JAM. Kitty takes it well. 

We get our character page, which is apparently NOT limited to Hickman’s work, but I find it a nice touch, and unlike the avengers books from other writers under his tenure not doing the same thing, unify’s things a bit. I also like this opening mystery a ton. Is it her powers? Or is it something else? And how will Doug Ramsey aka Cypher, her former best friend who had a crush on her in the mutant equivalent in high school and Krakoa’s translator factor into this. I hope he does because most Kitty Pryde centric stories kinda forgot he existed entirely, as did New Mutants and All-New X-Factor on the Doug side. Seriously it bugs me as they were incredibly close yet because him being single might get in the way of her and other ships the writers had planned, this was just ignored and hopefully with Doug being a bigger player Duggan won’t ignore him this time, and given how strong this book is I expect this to come up. 

Moving Right along after the intro page, with the wonderful welcome of ahoy muties and a cast page, showing this isn’t exclusive to Hickman’s book and something I like we get a captain’s log of sorts, with the reveal that, with no way to portal there, Kitty just stole a boat, said i’m the captain now (Because you can’t escape that refrence and why would you) and then .. muses a bit about how left behind she feels as seen above. And it’s an intresting dilema: without the portals, how can she ever REALLY feel at home on Krakoa when she’d basically be trapped there, alone amongst everyone else.. and not for the first time. 

Longtime fans or those who’ve binged Claremont’s run will recall this little scene: after taking the bullet for Rouge during Mutant Massacre Kitty was left basically a ghost. No tangeblity, no way to interact, just trapped in a world she could see. While it DID get better from here it was only marginally: she could speak, she could talk.. but for the early part of her days with Excalibur, basically the british X-Men and something i’ll save more for next week, her powers of phasing through objects had reversed. She had to concentrate to stay SOLID and it was hell for her. It eventually righted itself, somehow I haven’t read far enough into Excalibur to know, but it had to leave some scars. The fact it happened AGAIN after that time she made a bullet meant to destroy earth intangiable and was only saved about a year or so later in story, or month given the weird timescale for marvel but moving on, by Magneto.. and left like this AGAIN until right before Schism. So to me, wether intentional or not, and it feels intentional, Kitty’s been isolated and trapped, alone amongst those around her before.. and she probably dosen’t want that again but worse. So she sails to Krakoa unsure with logan’s grocery list in tow. Which gloriously, we get to see. 

And this also explains where the hell the beer used in the big party at the end of HOX and POX came from, though it’s equally likely Logan had magneto steal a beer truck for them and then spent a full day with him carting it all through the gate. But before this gloriousneess Kitty arrives and tries going through the other way. 

So before Kitty, or Kate as she prefers to be known now, gets down to a rousing round of killing a child, Bobby shows up. Kitty assures him her problem is be handled by top men, which your saved from the indiana jones refrence because I can’t find a picture for that, logan goes diving for booze.

Because let’s face it Logan without enough Booze to murder Bojack Horseman just isn’t Logan. Bobby heads into a gate to find out why it has no traffic, while Kitty.. gets a phone call from her good old buddy Emma Frost, white queen. As a refresher the two went from sniping at each other constantly to mutaual respect with still a good deal of pot shots during Joss Whedon’s run on the book. That has not really changed. For those of you just joining us Emma was, and now is again, the white queen of a hellfire club and the first evil mutant kitty ever met, so naturally, shit’s complicated. But the important takeaway is that Emma trusts kitty. And has a job opprotunity for her. Those who read HOX and POX probably know that the ruling council of krakoa has an open chair.. and Emma wants her to .  See these days Emma’s old running buddies in the hellfire club, which she’s now in charge of, are the Hellfire Trading company, a vital economic partner and thus were naturally courted by Xavier as a vital part of Krakoa and shipping the life giving plants Krakoa gives worldwide. Where Kitty Kitty Bang Bang comes in is that not everyone is happy about Krakoa or welcoming of their gates: HOX and POX outright showed some countries refused to partner with them, and even some that have agreed to soverignty have taken to some drastic measures to keep mutants from leaving. 

Yeah, and it makes sense. The Marvel universe was prejudiced against mutants on a GOOD day, and now they’ve outright declared superiority, strong armed their way into acceptance, and want to take all of the rest away to their eden. While they had every right to after multiple, and i’m not exagerating, attempted and two sucessful GENOCIDES, of course they have to play hard ball to get this and of course extremist anti-mutant groups wouldn’t stand for it. But it works because it makes sense: the portals are a big target and several assholes aren’t going to let mutantkind escape their service, or alive, without a fight. So that’s the mission Emma is offering: a seat at the table as Red Queen of Hellfire and a misson saving muties, getting drunk and fightin round the world. And she also, cleverly, juxtoposes her being a pirate with what pirates in the past did: the pirates and traders of old were slavers. Kitty and her crew would be liberators, saving mutants from Humankind, bringing the live saving drugs in even to countries who refused and the mutants out. Speaking of mutants who are out let’s check on Iceman. But first lockheed with a crab. 

Awww. So bobby heads to mother russia.. and finds a nice warm reception. 

Yeah naturally this dosen’t go well. Russia is , unsuprisingly, being a dick about the whole thing and it turns out the asshole’s armor can temporarily depower mutants, so bobby books it back and tells kitty.. who’s Mr. Lahey levels of plastered and gets Storm to tag along on her boat, with Storm likely doing so Kitty dosen’t start declaring that she is the liquor or something. 

We cut to china where a woman is claiming her husband disappeared.. but Bishop shows up looking into it, and claiming he never showed up. She refuses to talk to him and Bishop calls it a night, but like the audience can tell something’s not right, and given he’s on the cover but doesn't join the team this issue, we’ll likely find out soon enough. Meanwhile ON A BOAT. The future Mauraders are filled in that the people surrounding the portal aren’t with the goverment but an extremist group, and find they have a stowaway aboard. 

Yup it’s everyone’s faviorite aussie aronist Pyro, back from the dead after years of being dead, a quick ressurection that reset his character development, and then disappearing and being replaced by one of the very few intresting parts of X-Men gold. I wasn’t even aware he’d been ressurected which shows just how much they gave a shit. Duggan wisely gives him amnesia and reveals the tragic truth of how he came back. 

Yup, true to Xavier’s new regime being one part hope and compassion and another part cold detached dickery, which really isn’t that far from the old regime he’s just open about the last part now, Pyro was only brought back first so the “Important mutants” would be sure to be safe. Even with his actions post ressurection, going back to petty crimin.. even though his death, despite never having read the issue, is still a great moment in X-History. Pyro, having failed several desperate attempts to cheat death at the hands of the Legacy Virus, uses his last moments to save someone who fears and hates him: Senator Kelly.. and in the process until the man’s own death changed the man from Mutantkind’s greatest enemy to a great supporter. And after that great selfless sacrifice... all Xavier and Magneto think of him is a lab rat, an unimportant mutant to use first to make sure their plan works. A throwaway slab of mutant meat. Understandably he was about to slide right back into crime but is instead drafted by storm and likely thinks “Eh, what else am I gonna do. “ So with our roster complete for now, our heroes dive into battle with kitty suggesting they swarm the power suit asshole so she can take him out and it works, but leaves her with just herself, pyro and lockheed to fight back.. and we get one of the best marvel fight scenes in recent history as a result. I’m only showing what’s necessary, but I can’t resisit a few choice shots

The fight as you can see is fast paced, fun, and uses kitty’s powers in creative ways we haven’t seen in some time. It’s been a LONG time since her powers weren’t boiled down to “I can’t be hurt” and “I can disrupt tech by phasing through it” and it is GLORIOUS, with Lolli’s art utterly shining and promising more tasty action and creative fights to come. Also i’d be remiss if I left this out

KItty using lockheed to give pyro a boost and blow away the Calvary. Our heroes win the day, save the grateful mutants the group had been holding from the gulag, and send them home, with all three deciding to stick with her: Pyro because it’s fun and because as established he’s pissed at Xavier and Mags for using him as a lab animal, and Iceman  out of loyalty. With that Kitty has one of the mutants presence pull out her phone and gives one hell of a series, and team, tagline...

The issue closes out with a nice little scene where Kitty asks storm to join her. And while storm, understandably given the last mutant group of maurders caused aforementioned massacre, not crazy about the name, she affirms her loyalty to her old friend’s new cause.. and to her in this beautiful line of dialogue. 

And with that, Kate takes Emma up on her offer and we get a great group shot to close us out. 

Well okay not entirely. Like in powers of x we get some plot revant gossip from bar sinsiter. Mostly just foreshadowing for the future.. that emma may of asked someone before storm, a clan of racists in hoods, and some “red tides” at hellfire bay. nothing to dig into much.  Final Thoughts: An excellent start that I hope keeps going like this. Marauders is one of my faviorite kinds of comics: a quirky team, loads of laughs and great likeable characters. Pyro is an easy faviorite and the book took Kitty from creators pet for Benids and Guggenhiem into new territory while building on what Claremont, Ellis and Whedon started. It’s also a welcome breath of fresh air after the more plot based house and powers to have more character focused stories and reactions to Krakoa and see the world build as we see how the globe is taking the Mutants new status. An excellent addition to what hickman has built. If you liked this follow me for more as i’ll be reviewing X-Men #1 sometime soon, Excalibur #1 next week, and more fun stuff and if there’s something you’d like me to review you can slip me a fiver to commission me for it. Until we meet again my fair muties. 

[blackwxtchmccree]

Side to Side (Sugar Daddy!Gabriel Reyes x Reader)

Can also be found on my AO3 >>> here. 

Chapter 1  | Chapter 2

It’s the end of April and I’m talking about Christmas, but it’s because I kinda wish it was Christmas. Also, if it sounds vaguely like I’m venting my personal problems through reader, well, it’s because I am. Regardless, I hope everyone enjoys! -Valk

P.S. I promise there will be smut. Soon. 

Edit: also if you guys want me to start tagging you when I post this series, leave a comment in the notes <3 -Valk

The first gift Gabriel got you was a Tiffany necklace.

He had Jessie slip it into your bag before you flew back the next day with a note attached to the familiar blue box—

An early Christmas present.

I’m going to Aspen for New Years—it’s not required, but you’re welcome to join me if you want to get away from your parents. Feel free to bring your cat with you. Otherwise, I’ll see you next year. -GR

You didn’t notice it until you were unpacking, shooing Mira off of your clothes so you could throw them in the washing machine, hanging the dress you had worn to dinner up in your closet and putting your new heels by the door, eyeing them with a smile. Once you had transferred some of your things to your suitcase and packed extra clothes to take home, you picked the small box up, slipping the ribbon tied around it off and opening it. Inside, a silver, heart-shaped pendant with “Please return to Tiffany and Co. New York” inscribed on the front and a small key sat on a silver chain and you pulled it out gently, letting it dangle and examining it before clasping it behind your neck. You took a picture and sent it to Gabe with a plethora of hearts.

New Years? -GR

Right. You gave the city a quick search, being met with pictures of snowy mountain sides and expensive houses.

I’ve never been to Aspen. Looks… cold. -Y/N

It’s not too bad when you have someone to cuddle with ;) -GR

You snorted, rolling your eyes, thumb hovering over the screen. It was cheesy, but it made you smile.

Alright you’ve convinced me. See you on New Years? -Y/N

Can’t wait. -GR

With that, you set about your room to finish packing, taking the rest of the day to rest and edit a few photos you had been meaning to get to for a while—personal photos of a few of your friends walking through the fresh autumn leaves earlier that year when they had visited. You had forgotten about them, finding them again when you were sifting through old folders looking for family Christmas pictures that your mother needed for the Christmas cards this year.

The last few made you laugh as you scrolled through them, cuddling a cup of tea to your chest, smiling when you got to a picture of Lena—a short, brown haired girl with amber eyes that you had run track and become best friends with in high school—with a leaf smacking her in the face, Lena’s girlfriend Emily laughing at her in the background. You had snapped the picture at just the right moment, having meant to send it to her after you had uploaded them to your laptop back in September, but forgetting once you got swamped with homework and essays. She had gone to flight school to become a pilot instead of going to college like you—you hadn’t talked to her in a few weeks, deciding to restart the conversation by sending her a screenshot of the photo.

Alternatively, the next photo was of Brigitte—your other best friend who had gone to college in a neighboring state to study engineering—diving into a pile of leaves in the center of campus, her freckled pace popping out of the pile in the next photo, a leaf sticking to her nose. It made you snort and you sent that one to her, too. She visited every few weeks, so you saw her more often than Lena, and she was normally the only reason you ever went out, but you missed her all the same. The friends you had made here just weren’t the same as the two of them.

Within a few minutes, they were both requesting to chat and you accepted their video call requests, smiling when they both appeared on your screen.

“Hi you two,” you greeted them, nearly spitting out your tea when they both yelled excited greeting at you.

“I honestly thought you died I hadn’t heard from you in so long,” Lena snorted, adjusting the camera to better enclose her face. “Finals that bad, huh?”

“It’s certainly been a wild week,” you replied with a shrug, turning your head towards Brigitte. “How was it for you?”

“I’ve been running on coffee for almost 48 hours—you know how it is,” she replied, brushing her ginger hair out of her face. “My last final is tomorrow. I’m jealous you get to go home already.”

“Are both of you coming home?”

“I’m flying in bright and early Tuesday morning,” Lena replied, giving you a thumbs up. “I’m going to lunch with Emily, but after that I’m free.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow night,” Brigitte affirmed. “Half dead and ready to crawl into bed, but alive nonetheless.”

“Tuesday night it is then—we can get drinks. I have something to te-,” but Brigitte interrupted you, leaning in closer to her screen as if that would help her see you any clearer.

“That necklace… I know I wouldn’t be able to afford it, meaning you can’t either,” Brigitte said eyeing you suspiciously—just as observant as ever. “Where’d it come from?”

“Oh don’t tell me-,” but you interrupted Lena just as she got excited, your hand flying up to idly run a finger over the pendant, a blush highlighting your cheeks. You didn’t know how to explain it to them—knowing it would probably be easier if you did it in person.

“It’s only… kind of what you think. That’s why I want to see you both.”

They both affirmed your request, settling on a meeting place and time Tuesday night before the conversation drifted to the photos you had sent them among other things. Eventually, you found yourself drifting, reminding them of your plans before signing off, falling asleep with a smile on your face for the first time in a while. You didn’t know how they would take it, but they were your best friends, so you hoped they wouldn’t think any less of you.

You got up a bit earlier than usual the next morning, putting your suitcase and Mira’s carrier with her in it into the backseat before heading home. It was a bit of a drive, but you were there by mid-afternoon, unloading your things and greeting your family. You spent the next day and a half with them, helping your mother decorate the tree and wrap last minute presents, laughing as you watched Mira play among the excess wrapping paper.

You pulled your camera out, taking photos of her as she rolled around like a kitten before moving to take pictures of your mother cooking, snapping a few before she noticed and shooed you away. They may not have approved of you being a photography major, but you were damn good at it. It was also the first time in a long time that you actually enjoyed taking photos again—as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest. You could quit your job—not have to worry about bills and tuition and you could stop taking photos of things you weren’t particularly interested in and finally focus on what you wanted to. You knew you had Reyes to thank, your hand falling to the necklace under your t-shirt, a small smile gracing your lips.

The next night, you met up with Lena and Brigitte, hugging them both tightly outside of the bar you three had chosen. Brigitte had been working out and you complimented her on her physique; Lena hadn’t changed much and was as chipper as ever, dragging you inside and ordering wine for the three of you once you found a table.

“Alright—spill it. We want to know,” Brigitte started, scooting her chair closer to you and leaning in. Lena did the same and you looked between them for a moment before letting out a small sigh.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us you found someone,” Lena chastised you, looking up at you with sad brown eyes, pouting.

“It’s not like… that. Not quite, anyway,” you replied sheepishly, taking a deep drink from your glass, realizing more alcohol may make this easier to get through.

“I mean if they’re buying you things it has to be pretty serious, right,” Brigitte asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. “How long have you been together?”

“Four days,” you deadpanned, laughing and nearly spitting out your wine when they both went wide eyed, confusion evident on their faces. “I may have found myself a sugar daddy. But like… a real one—not like a ‘still in business school’ banking executive wannabe.”

“You’re kidding,” Lena murmured, her face unreadable for a moment. Then, a smile broke out on her face she started giggling, looking at Brigitte before turning back to you. “I didn’t take you for one to be into older men, but whatever you floats your boat, love.”

“As long as he takes care of you,” Brigitte affirmed with a nod. “I will say this is the least stressed I’ve ever seen you. Have you met him—like in person?”

You nodded, sitting back in your chair and relaxing a bit, mentally scolding yourself for ever thinking they would have anything other than your best interests at heart. You quickly explained everything that had happened thus far, ordering another round of glasses for the three of you.

���Do your parents know,” Lena asked, knowing it would be just another point of contention between you and your parents.

“No—no one does except you two,” you replied with a shake of your head. “And I need it to stay that way. He’s flying me out to Colorado to spend time with him over New Years and I have no idea what I’m gonna tell my parents.”

“Tell them I invited you to a party on campus because I didn’t want to go alone,” Brigitte offered nonchalantly, sipping at her drink.

“Or tell them I asked you to take pictures at a New Years party I’m hosting,” Lena suggested. “I’ll vouch for you.”

You smiled at them both, forcing down the tears that threatened to spill over, glad you had friends like them to cover and support you.

“Either works. Thank you both.”

You spent the rest of the night talking and laughing with them, even drunkenly singing a few karaoke songs on the stage together, realizing just how much you missed being around them. You finally stumble into your house around 1 am, picking up Mira and carrying her upstairs to your bedroom, texting both Lena and Brigitte to tell them you made it home safely before curling up in bed.

Christmas came and went as it always did—you found little had changed at home, which meant your patience with your parents wore thin after spending just a week at home, becoming tired of their passive aggressive remarks regarding your school work and your social life. When you told them you wouldn’t be home for New Years because you were going to a party, they both looked you, seemingly surprised.

“Going out for once? That’s a nice change,” your mother commented. “Did you finally makes some friends other than Lena and Brigitte? And your roommate doesn’t count.”

“Brigitte goes to a good school. Maybe you’ll find someone better than that deadbeat you dated in high school,” your dad chimed in, making you bite your tongue before you said something stupid. “Oh I meant to ask—how’d your exams go?”

“Fine—as usual,” you replied quietly, trying to keep a scowl off of your face.

“We expected as much—arts classes can’t be that hard,” your mother retorted. “It’s not too late to change your major, you know.”

To something more useful you could hear her thinking. It made you roll your eyes and you didn’t bother replying with anything other than confirmation that you were going with Brigitte and that you were leaving tomorrow. Gabe had actually scheduled your flight for New Years Eve, 2 days from now, but you texted him a few minutes later, asking if he could move it because you couldn’t stand being in your house anymore.

Done. Everything okay? -GR

Parents. I’ll tell you about it when I get there. Can’t wait to see you <3 -Y/N

You relayed which story you chose to Lena and Brigitte in case your parents asked, packing everything in advance that night, leaving before they woke up the next morning, even if it meant you had to sit for an extra hour at the airport. You boarded a smaller plane this time, tucking Mira’s carrier under your seat and settling back. You found that sleep was a little more difficult to find this time—the flight was turbulent and Mira was not pleased. You wanted to pull her out and cuddle her, but you were sure that was looked down upon, so you murmured to her sweetly to comfort her until she fell asleep. Once you landed, you toddled off the plane, vaguely quesy, relieved to be met with bone-chilling air once you stepped outside.

There was more snow on the ground than you had seen in your entire life and more was slowly falling. You shuffled into the small airport to grab your bags, met at the entrance by McCree and Shimada, the cowboy tipping his hat to you.

“Lookin’ a little green around the gills there, darlin’,” Jesse laughed, taking Mira from you as Genji grabbed your bag.

“You could say that,” you replied, brow furrowed. “Evidently I don’t deal very well with turbulence. Neither does she.”

“That’s alright. I don’t either,” McCree replied, opening the back door for you to get in, reaching around to the front seat to grab something, presenting you with a heavy peacoat. “From Reyes—it’s cold and it’s only gonna get colder, so bundle up.” You nodded, taking it gratefully and slipping it on.

Much to your surprise, the drive to the house was no more than 10 minutes from the airport. You looked out the window, watching in astonishment as you passed both houses and snow drifts bigger than you had ever seen before in your life. Turning onto a small street with a cul-de-sac, Jesse pulled into the driveway of a huge, more modern house near the end. You noticed two people standing at the front door and your eyes fell on Gabe standing opposite the couple inside the house, casually conversing with them. Genji opened the door for you, warning you to mind the ice.

“We’ll bring your bags inside and let Mira out to explore if that’s okay,” Shimada informed you and you nodded, thanking them as you headed towards the front entrance. Gabe looked up from the conversation as you approached, the couple he was conversing with turning towards you. ‘Play along’ you saw him mouth at you as you reached the steps that led up to the door, brow furrowing when he chuckled at your slightly taken aback expression.

“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” the man, a taller gentleman with dark hair and a mustache, greeted you brightly, extending his hand towards you and shaking it vigorously. The woman next to him, who you presumed was his wife, extended her hand as well, her long, black hair falling over her golden eyes as she greeted you quietly with a soft smile.

“Easy Gerard—she had a long flight,” Gabriel advised, extending a hand towards you as you came up the stairs, smiling when you took it and let him pull you inside. “Y/N—this is Gerard and Amelie. They live next door.”

“Nice to meet you both,” you said with a smile, clinging close to Gabriel’s side anxiously, caught slightly off guard by having been drawn suddenly into the conversation. You felt him rest his hand gently on your side, giving it a comforting squeeze that calmed your racing heart slightly.

“Gabriel has told us a lot about you. Congratulations on your tenure,” Amelie said, giving you a small, respectful nod. “Your dissertation on the influence of Renaissance humanist literature on Reformation ideology sounds intriguing. You’ll have to tell us about it sometime.”

“Gladly. It was a pivotal time in European history—the outcome of which shaped the religious and political landscape of the rest of the western world,” you replied with some degree of certainty, realizing what Gabe had meant when he said ‘play along’ earlier—also mentally thanking yourself for paying attention during your history class that past semester.

“We’ll leave you two be for now and let you get settled,” Gerard said with a finalizing nod towards both you and Gabriel. “See you on a couple of days.”

“Don’t forget that bottle of wine,” Gabriel called after them as they descended the stairs.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” And with that, Gerard and Amelie disappeared down the driveway and across the street. Gabriel ushered you fully inside after, unwilling to let any more cold air in.

“Wha-what was that,” you asked once he closed the door, turning towards you with a small smile on his face.

“Oh—I told them you were a newly tenured professor at my alma mater—just wanted to see how well you could play along,” Gabriel replied, smirking slightly as he approached you.

“How’d I do?”

“Very well—you handled that nicely,” he replied, resting a hand on your lower back and guiding you through the modestly decorated house. “You’re more capable than you think. You’ll do just fine at the events I take you to.”

“I hope so,” you said hesitantly, looking around as you passed down a short hallway into an open living space. A large living room sat to your left and a kitchen to your right. The back wall was made up of mostly paneless windows facing the huge, snowy mountains in the distance. You drifted over to look through the glass, admiring the view for a moment, awestruck.

You were drawn back out of your head when Reyes approached you, extending a mug of hot chocolate towards you. You took it gratefully, holding it for a moment to let it warm your hands before taking a sip, turning to watch as Gabe returned to the kitchen to grab his coffee, your eyes trailing over his form slowly. You admired the way the maroon t-shirt he wore clung tightly to his chest and arms, outlining the toned muscles that lay underneath. Your eyes fell further, down his muscular abdomen to the black skinny jeans he wore that clung to his strong thighs in all of the right places.

You had only seen him in suits up until now and something about seeing him dressed so casually made you blush, moreso when you realized he had caught you staring just now. He chuckled when you looked away, unable to meet his gaze, your hand flying up to cover your flushed face. That made Gabriel laugh even harder.

“You’re alright, cariña. I’m flattered,” he replied softly, making his way over to you, running an idle hand across your shoulders and down your back, making you shiver, but you found yourself leaning into his touch. “How was your flight?”

“Long. Turbulence made me nauseous and poor Mira didn’t know what to do with herself, but I think we’re alright now,” you replied, finding yourself leaning into his side, searching for his warmth. “Sorry if me coming a day early was an inconvenience. I-I just couldn’t stand being home any longer.”

“Not an inconvenience at all—it’s always almost too quiet here, so I’m glad,” Gabriel replied, taking your jacket as you slipped it off and hanging it in a nearby closet before settling on the plush couch, motioning for you to join him. “What happened with your parents?” You sighed, settling onto the couch next to him, finding it easy to curl up against him, your thumb running idly around the lip of your mug.

“It just seems nothing I do is good enough for them, is all,” you murmured, looking up to meet Gabriel’s gentle gaze. “They said I don’t have enough friends and I don’t go out enough, so I got a job and made new friends and started going to bars with them, but then my school work was suffering because I was always going to class hungover and they yelled at me about my grades, so I started studying more meaning I couldn’t go out as often and they told me I was being too much of a shut-in and so on…”

“Endless cycle, huh?”

“Basically. Now all I want to do is sleep because I’m exhausted all the time from working and studying so much and I don’t have the time or energy to go out anymore, so we’re back to square one,” you murmured, clenching your jaw, fighting back tears. “And I know they hate the major I chose because they don’t think I’m good enough to make it and I know I’ll never make enough money to ever make them think I’m ‘successful’, so sometimes I wonder why I even try anymore.” Your voice broke as tears stained your cheeks, a sob wracking your body.

You hadn’t meant to cry, almost embarrassed, but Gabriel took it in stride, quick to pull you closer, rubbing your back and using a gentle thumb to wipe away your tears.

“You’ve been working so hard, cariña,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You can relax now—I’ll take care of what I can for you, just focus on what you need to, regardless of what your parents think.”

“I wish it was that easy,” you sniffled, leaning into his touch as he cupped your cheek, letting your eyes flutter closed.

“Give it time. You can quit your job, you don’t have to worry about your tuition, you can spend more time with your friends and still have time to study,” Reyes murmured in reply, dragging the pad of his thumb gently across your cheek. “You’re so talented and I wish your parents could see what I do.”

“I’m just so tired.”

Those words broke his heart.

“I know,” he whispered, drawing your head against his chest, threading his fingers gently through your hair. “Get some rest for now.”

Being close to him like this was strange, but somehow felt natural and after a moment you realized you didn’t want to move away, finding yourself tucking your head further against his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep, the subsequent nap you took making up for the sleep you missed this morning.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Fifty Two

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

March 4th, 2019

“What’s the use? I’m never going to pick this up!” Roman groaned.

Emile sat across from him at the table and sighed. “You need to know what Dee is saying, in case no one is around to translate, Roman. It’s important to know even the basics; if you can’t get the grammar right away, no big deal, but you need to know certain signs.”

Roman leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Okay. Okay, I’ll try, if only so the new kid can tell me when he needs the bathroom.”

Emile sighed. “Okay. So this is ‘I love you,’” he said, making the sign.

Roman blinked. “When would I ever need that?!” he asked

Emile shrugged. “You never know. ‘I love you.’ Can you make the sign?”

Roman rolled his eyes but complied.

“All right. Next sign is for pain...”

July 15th, 2020

Roman sat across from Dee on Dee’s bed, staring intently at Dee’s hands. Dee was doing the same to him. Roman’s palms were facing towards the ceiling, held out in a casual position. Dee held the same position, but under Roman’s hands. In a blur of movement, Dee brought his hands up but Roman moved his away before Dee could smack his palms. Dee groaned and flopped backwards on his bed, while Roman laughed. “Face it, Dee, I will always, always be faster than you at this. Or at least I’ll always be faster while I get practice at school and with friends.”

Dee pouted. “You’re no fun,” he signed, sitting up again with a grunt.

“I’m plenty of fun,” Roman said, placing a hand on his chest. “You just want to win.”

“Well, yeah,” Dee signed, making a face that quite clearly said duh.

Roman sighed. “Well, we’ve still got some time to do whatever while Patton and Virgil are gone. Anything else you want to do?”

Dee shrugged. “I dunno. How’s Logan?”

“Logan’s sleeping, last I checked,” Roman said. Logan had been feeling under the weather for a couple days, and caught a fever in the early morning, after which Dad and Ami promptly sent him back to bed with instructions to rest. “He should feel better in the next couple days, but while he has the flu, he just has to rest.”

“I want him to feel better,” Dee signed.

“You and me both,” Roman muttered. “He helped me when I was sick when he first got here. I can’t even return the favor, though.”

“But you are, kinda,” Dee signed. “You’re looking after me while everyone else is gone so that Logan doesn’t have to.”

Roman hadn’t considered that. “I guess so,” he allowed. “Do you want to play with tinker toys?”

Dee nodded. “Can we figure out how to make a catapult this time?” he asked.

“We can certainly try,” Roman agreed.

They spent a majority of the morning in Dee’s room, playing with the various tinker toys, trying to figure out if any of them could be bent in the way the catapult needed, while still being stiff enough for the job. Short that, they were looking for a basket to hold whatever the catapult would be holding.

“You have to have something that could work as a basket?” Roman asked.

Dee looked around his room from where he was standing, and waved his hands around in meaningless gestures that Roman took to mean, I’ve searched my room half a dozen times.

Roman sighed. “Okay, no dice. We can do this anyway.”

“How?” Dee signed. “We need a basket for the catapult!”

“If we want to build a traditional trebuchet and have it work with weight, yeah, but we don’t have to build a trebuchet if we don’t want to. There are other kinds of catapults,” Roman said. “The ballista threw arrows and bolts and spears and stuff. It’s like a giant crossbow.”

Dee shrugged. “I don’t really want to build one of those,” he signed.

“Okay. Maybe we can work on the catapult another day, then,” Roman said. “Is there anything else you might want to do?”

“Not really,” Dee signed, shoulders rising and falling in a silent sigh.

Roman frowned. He didn’t like when Dee was sad like this. He wondered...he walked over to Logan’s room. He checked, and just like he thought, his older brother was still asleep. He went back to Dee’s room, where Dee was watching from the doorway. Roman closed the door, plugged Dee’s iPod into the speaker that Dad and Ami had gotten him for when he wanted to listen to music without earbuds, and searched for a song.

When he found one he thought Dee might like, Roman gathered up the tinker toys and put them in a corner, so they’d have space to dance. Then he hit play, and the unmistakable sound of the Mulan soundtrack greeted the silence in the room. Roman grinned and put on his biggest theatre voice as he started to sing along with the song. “Let’s get down to business!” Roman sang. “To defeat! The Huns!”

Dee’s eyes lit up and he laughed, as Roman continued to act out the song and sing along with it. He attempted to sing every line, even when they started to overlap with each other. Dee joined in on the dancing halfway through, and by the end of the song they were both giggling panting messes.

The next song came on and Roman turned in surprise to the stereo. He wasn’t aware that Dee had this song on his iPod. But he was so distracted by that, he failed to notice Dee jumping onto his bed and taking a deep breath before belting out the first lines of the lyrics. “I’m gonna be a mighty king, so enemies beware!”

Roman jumped in just in time for the next line, “Well, I’ve never seen a king of beasts with quite so little hair!”

“I’m gonna be the main event, like no king was before! I’m brushing up on looking down, I’m working on my roar!” Dee continued.

“Thus far, a rather uninspiring thing,” Roman said, crossing his arms.

“Oh I just can’t wait...to be king!” Dee belted.

They went through the entire song, Dee dancing on his bed the whole time, and when the song ended and Dee let himself fall into sitting on his bed, Roman was breathless and laughing. “Wow, you can really sing, Dee! We should probably keep quiet after this one, though, because we don’t want to wake up Logan.”

“Too late,” a croaky voice said from the doorway.

Roman cringed and turned around to find Logan standing there, blanket wrapped around him, holding a glass of water, but he was smiling.

“I never knew you could sing like that either, Dee,” Logan said. “Although I take it that most people don’t.”

Dee shook his head. “Sometimes I’ll sing in music,” he signed. “But I’m always quiet about it. I don’t want people staring at me.”

“But you really enjoy The Lion King, so you have a hard time not singing, is that right?” Logan asked.

Dee nodded. “I love it. They don’t have any snakes as bad guys,” he signed.

“That’s always a plus,” Logan laughed, before dissolving into coughs. “I’m going back to bed. But I don’t mind hearing you guys sing, for the record.”

“Good to know,” Roman said, with an awkward thumbs-up.

Logan looked around the room and spotted the tinker toys in the corner. “You know, if you two need something to function as a basket or a sling for that catapult you’ve been trying to build for the past week or two off and on, let me know when I’m less sick, and I’ll look through my room for something.”

“Thank you!” Dee signed with a big grin.

Logan nodded, and walked back to his room, quite clearly dazed. Roman turned to Dee and both of them laughed a little as one of Logan’s more emo songs came on the iPod. “That was fun,” Roman said with a little grin. “What time is it?”

“It’s about noon,” Dee signed. “And I'm getting hungry.”

“Well, I was about to ask you if you wanted lunch, so that works,” Roman said. “Let’s go downstairs and pick out something to eat, sound good?”

Dee nodded and they walked downstairs, Roman letting Dee look through the pantry for anything they might want to eat, and Dee pulled out the peanut butter and jelly almost immediately. Roman rolled his eyes. “You do realize that you can't eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the rest of your life?”

“I can try,” Dee signed with a grin after Roman took the offered containers.

Roman shook his head, opened up the Crofter’s and muttered, “Logan is gonna kill me if I use the last of this on sandwiches.”

“Make one for him?” Dee proposed. “Maybe then he’ll be less mad?”

“I mean, I don't think he's ever really mad if I use the last of the jelly,” Roman said. “He’s more...irritated. Unamused. I don’t know. Point is, he won’t actually kill me. But if I made three sandwiches, each of us would get less jelly.”

“Oh. Nevermind, then,” Dee said. “I want jelly on my sandwich.”

“I know,” Roman said, rolling his eyes. “That’s why I told you about this.”

Dee watched Roman closely as Roman made the sandwiches, and Roman sighed. “Dee, I know how to make your sandwich, you don’t have to watch me that closely.”

Roman didn’t get any response except Dee swiping one of the sandwiches and hopping up on the island to eat it. Roman rolled his eyes and sat next to Dee, eating his own sandwich. Vanellope came over, whining, and Dee shook his head, signing no at Vanellope.

“I think the only time you refuse to feed Vanellope any of what you’re eating is with your PB & J’s,” Roman observed. “You’ve accidentally almost fed her things that would hurt her, so really, I'm kinda shocked you don't cave when it comes to your sandwiches.”

“They’re my sandwiches,” Dee signed, as if that explained everything. “They’re special.”

“Good to know, I guess,” Roman said, eyebrows furrowing, but he offered Dee a smile regardless.

Dee ate more of his sandwich, but when he was done, Dee didn't hop off the stool to play something, like Roman expected him to. Instead, Dee wiggled his fingers, apparently trying to figure out what to sign. “I like playing with you, Roman,” he signed eventually.

“Well, yeah, I like playing with you too,” Roman said, frowning.

“No, I mean...I like playing with you. Dancing and singing and being silly,” Dee signed. “I can build anything with Patton, and I can read with Virgil, and I can infodump with Logan. But...I play with you. It’s special.”

Roman blinked. That hadn't occurred to him. Sure, Dee might dance with the others, and read around Roman, and he might build stuff with Virgil if Virgil wanted to join, but Roman didn't realize he associated those things that he enjoyed doing with certain brothers. And the fact that Dee thought singing and dancing was special...was something else. “Well, we’ll just have to do that a little more often, then, won’t we?”

Dee grinned and Roman grinned back. He was starting to learn more about Dee. Just when he thought he knew everything, he discovered he had so much to learn in terms of how Dee showed love. And that was super exciting.

The front door opened and Vanellope ran towards it, Dee hot on her heels. Roman followed after. “How was the pool party?” he asked.

“It was so much fun!” Patton exclaimed, his hair still plastered to his head.

“Yeah, Lilly’s party was pretty cool,” Virgil said. He looked around. “Dad’s not back?”

“Not yet,” Roman said. “It’s just been me and Dee for a while. We just had lunch.”

“I’ll leave you two out of lunch plans, then, got it,” Ami said.

“Oh, we’re almost out of Crofter’s,” Roman said.

“And there goes my lunch plans,” Ami replied brightly. “All right, boys, anything you want other than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

“We had cake at Lilly’s, isn’t that enough?” Patton asked.

“No,” Ami said simply. “That is not enough, and you need something solid to eat.”

“What about liquid? I wouldn’t mind soup,” Virgil volunteered.

“Soup I can do,” Ami said.

As Ami walked to the kitchen and Dee signed animatedly to the twins, Roman followed Ami into the kitchen. “Did you know Dee has different ways of spending time with all of us?” he asked Ami. “Like, he dances and sometimes sings with me, but he’ll read with Virgil, or build with Patton. It’s really cool, and I’m honestly kinda touched.”

Ami smiled. “Yeah, I noticed he’ll watch cartoons more with Dad and laugh at comics with me, but I guess I never realized that was his specific idea of quality time with us. That’s sweet of him.”

“Right?” Roman asked. “Every time I think I’ve finally got this family figured out, I find another level of our relationships to explore. It’s crazy. In a good way!”

Ami laughed. “Yeah, I guess that would be a little crazy,” he agreed. “I’ve stopped trying to ‘figure out’ the family, and just sorta...ride the wave. If I didn’t, I would go absolutely crazy.”

Roman nodded. “I still love us, though.”

“Oh, absolutely. I wouldn’t trade this family for the world,” Ami agreed.

[bloodfcst-a]

Hey, y’all. Tumblr’s been setting off my anxiety in the last few days, thus the reason I’ve been away. I’ll give you a full explanation under the cut for those who are interested (though I’d really appreciate it if you all read it anyway), and provide some contact information for places you can find me.

Discord: conjure. ☆#6443 Twitch: ninabeanxo Twitter: mishtadelet

I’ve been kind of quiet on Discord lately & I’m the most active on Twitter. I also announce when I’m streaming on Twitter, so... yeah. Sorry about this.

I want to be here. I really do. But there’s something about the summers on Tumblr that are really hard on me. I also think people’s attitudes change & idk why, but people seem to treat me pretty rudely? I try so hard to be approachable, to be kind and positive and supportive, but the amount that people try to take advantage of me or are just plain rude to me is?? So wild. So for those reasons, I’ve just kind of been isolating myself lately, and I may seem a little distant/less approachable/not talking much about myself because tbh... some of y’all are just haphazardly setting off my anxiety / panic attacks and I seriously can’t do it. I already have PTSD, so it’s a fucking nightmare lmao.

There is no gentle way of saying this, but it really needs to be stated. Please respect my triggers, or I will not talk to you. Please respect if I ask you not to mention something or someone to me.

and this is a really big one....

Please respect my boundaries.

If I have mentioned to you that I am not vibing with someone, do not send me media of them / that includes them, do not ask me about ships with them, do not tag me in posts of / with them, and please stop asking me about group verses / affiliated servers. In my time on tumblr, I’ve dealt with theft, bullying, emotional abuse, sexual harassment & solicitation. I’m constantly asking myself ‘ Why me? ’ but more than that, I’m really trying to avoid further situations from happening. I haven’t found an answer. I’m guessing it’s ‘cause I’m soft / nice? idk. Stop ruining a good thing. Y’all are gonna make me bitter, dang. 

When I made this blog, I was explicit that I do not want to be in mainstream FF fandom. When I promo this blog, I even say primarily fandomless & canon-divergent. There is way too much messiness in the fandom, extremely toxic people & tendencies there, and I just don’t like fandom discussion. Regardless of my reasons, the point is that I’m not interested, so please stop trying to entice me to go back. It’s so blatantly rude & shows you think your interests & wishes are more important than my comfort level, and I don’t appreciate that sentiment in the slightest.

That being said, I know Yufi reads differently. That’s why I put so much work into her metas. I even have two tags for all the content. At some point I’ll even have a less minimalistic blog & with more links so it’s super accessible ( in the off chances searching for the ‘  meta ’ and ‘ kisaragi ‘ tags don’t work ). But in the meantime... ask questions. Read. Join a stream. I’ve literally streamed games & movies for folks privately & occasionally stream now. I actually started a new file of VII not too long ago and just got Yuffie, so I could literally have a gameplay stream where we go through canon together. I’m like... nearly begging. Don’t make assumptions.

Again, there are so many resources. There’s wikis, there’s the tags, there’s the inbox ( just ask! ), there’s streams, there’s gameplay & commentary videos, there’s stuff. If you are confused or unsure, I would much rather you reach out. This is regardless of how long I’ve known you, ‘cause some of us have known me for a while and still don’t know anything about me or my portrayal or how to interact, in- or out-of-character.

On the topic of assumptions (because it really is that important, so many issues stem from assumptions & you continuously making the wrong assumptions will leave me less inclined to speak with you, nevermind interact), let’s address some.

I do not write a hyper-sexualized muse. I know this is fanon because of her choice in clothes... however, clothes are a fashion choice, and do not reflect a person’s... existence? I don’t know if it’s the masculinity or the rape culture or what but... what she’s wearing does not mean she deserves any hypersexual treatment... and also as an extension, myself ( bc this happens way too frequently-- please stop seeing my muse and then approaching me about your personal sexual fantasies. It is extremely uncomfortable, as someone who is sex-neutral & demiromantic, to be randomly selected to talk about sex? with me personally? via my muse? Or about my muse when we have zero chemistry? Why do y’all think this is okay??). When I do choose to write sexual / nsfw content, it’s always after conversations ( plural!! ) with my writing partner & after I feel comfortable with the topic and with them. But even if I had her hoein’ it up on the dash, that doesn’t mean to make assumptions about her character (bc maybe there’s character motivations I need to write a meta for & it’s part of her background) or me (the mun is not the muse!! say it with me!!).

I do not write a kleptomanic. Again, this is entirely fanon, because Yuffie says in literally everything she’s mentioned in that she does not steal without a purpose-- and the highest purpose is that she’s stealing items that would restore the power and glory of Wutai or for her personal safety. However, I very rarely write theft... I try really hard to steer clear of the topic because I’m aware that it’s like the #1 thing she’s reduced to. She’s a thief class, yes, but that is not the only dimension to her. I could go on, but I think that’s enough.

Just because our characters share canon does not mean they’re going to have chemistry. I am canon-divergent. But not only that... Yuffie just doesn’t vibe with most people as a canon fact. She is an outsider to like... 99% of people, exclusion being Godo ( Wutai ) & the Turks & the WRO. She doesn’t even claim herself as a member of AVALANCHE. Not only this, but the dynamic she has with one Reeve or Cloud does not represent every duplicate-- that comes with plotting and with chemistry. We will have to plot & work together to figure out exactly how our versions of characters mesh. This is a collaborative hobby.... so the collaborating shouldn’t be that much of a surprise. 

If you come guns-a-blazin’ without clearly having read anything about my portrayal, with completely inaccurate characterizations & just assume because we’re friendly out-of-character I’m gonna be pleased with it.... you’re dead wrong. I’m actually just... a very kind and nice person. I may just gently offer you some suggestions or corrections. But if you repeatedly come with your assumptions &  pre-conceived notions and it’s clear you’re not paying literally any attention to me or my ideas about my portrayal...  I’ll probably just recommend you to another duplicate. I know one who stole a ton of my content & former friends, so you’ll be in good hands. 

If you’re here, I assume that you want to write with me, not the idea of me. I’m a person with feelings & interests too, y’know ?? I feel like somehow that’s easy to forget with me for some reason, given how often people feel inclined to overstep my boundaries & act so disrespectful to me. Which is... fucking wild, honestly !! I’ve even had a person deadass say to my face “ I didn’t think/know you’d want to be treated with appreciation and respect. ” What the actual fuck does that mean? What kind of dominant abuser mentality ??????? Y’all on this site stress me out!!

The last two weeks have been legit stupid stressful on me, and I’ve had some interpersonal changes with folks in the last month (mainly in private) all regarding these subjects. About people here feeling entitled to be rude to me & finding all sorts of justifications for it (I’ve heard everything from “my grandma was sick” to “work’s hard”-- what’s that gotta do with you curb stomping me & my ideas/feelings, and telling me my emotions aren’t relevant in comparison to yours? It doesn’t). And it’s just been weighing down on me a lot. I don’t usually go on main here to discuss issues like this, but because it’s been OVERWHELMING in the last few weeks (and also, bc being nice to everyone is kinda common sense ? and idk why folks here seem to think I’m excluded from the ‘everyone’???), it just seemed like now, while I’m isolating a bit in an attempt to focus on some self-healing, would be a great time to discuss things.

I know this was a long post... but there’s been a lot of injustices done to me on here & in life, so....... if it burdens you to read all this, imagine how shitty it feels to have to experience it. Yeah. It’s rough, pals.

I don’t know how to really end this post godhsaohof. I’m hoping this will kind of open someone’s eyes & like... maybe things will change. I’ve stated before, but I have chronic illness so I really can’t handle stress or, for lack of a better term, a lot of bullshit tbh. If you wouldn’t say it to someone with a dying illness or cancer or a soft sweet grandma, don’t say it to me. Because that’s literally me! I’ve got an illness I’m dying from & I’ve had cancer & I’m soft and sweet! tl;dr, stop being so mean to me dang. I didn’t do anything to deserve this.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 23: The Workers of Sacred Metal

Chapters: 23/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Let’s try this again) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Reader, Brunnhilde(Marvel), Thor(Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Here Have More Hedacannons, Loki Can Be Thoughtful, Thoughtfulness is A Form Of Scheming After All, Reader is Always Curious, Nidavellir Has The Potential to b Really Cool. Summary: Reader returns in triumph, Loki goes into Teacher Mode. 

Loki kept his expression polite and even as Andsvarr presented him with the gift of a cinnamon roll, but internally he was dancing. A treat for him! From you! Yes, it seemed like several others were also receiving them, but he had got one, and that was the most important part.

He took it back to his desk, shoved the papers aside, and dug in.

Paradise.

Loki had never tasted a cinnamon roll before. Humankind had created such an incredible variety of pastries; it would probably take many years to sample them all. This was a good start. This was the best start!

He let himself melt away into silly little daydreams. Your flour-dusted apron, your shining eyes, your deft hands, kneading the dough. Wiping your face, smearing your cheek with flour.

Himself reaching out to wipe it away. You leaning into the touch instead of shying away. You don't hate him. You make him cinnamon rolls.

Loki was brought back from his lovely reverie, by an insistent knocking. With an irritated sigh, he rose, and found Andsvarr at the door, with a wide-eyed young child.

“Your Highness, she says that-”

The child began babbling, and all Loki could really make out was that you had been struck by Stormbreaker out on the Valkyries field, and now you could not get up.

He dashed down the hall at a dead sprint, not caring who might see. Stormbreaker weighed around ninety pounds. It was solid uru and living wood, nearly always charged with electricity. There was no angle on the thing that wasn't deadly.

Would he actually feel it, if you died? Would the rune flare, or fade, would he feel pain, or a sudden emptiness? Or would he be unaware, until someone like that child back there informed him?

He did feel a tugging on the mark, as he approached, gravel crunching and flying under his boots. Brunnhilde and his brother were kneeling in the field, while the trainee Valkyries huddled at a distance.

What nightmare awaited him? A crushed or mangled corpse? Was he to lose you now, after everything? After surviving an assassination attempt, did you now fall to an accident? Was there to be no reconciliation, the half-eaten cinnamon roll your parting gift to him?

The knot tightened in his chest with every speedy step. Thor and Brunnhilde moved away at his approach, leaving him to kneel next to you. You were shivering violently, and he nearly collapsed onto the ground next to you in sheer relief. Shivering meant life!

He gathered you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. The Valkyries were watching, but he didn't care. All of Asgard could see, and he would not care. As your shivering subsided, he felt the satisfaction of a purpose fulfilled, a service that only he could provide. You sighed softly, delivered from the discomfort of magic fatigue.

“Thor...”Loki growled. Thor made a nervous noise and glanced at Brunnhilde, who answered with a look that said he was on his own.

“You hit her with Stormbreaker?” Loki accused. “What in the soaring, glacial hel were you thinking? You can't swing that thing at mortals!”

“I didn't!” Thor defended. “I absolutely didn't! I would never!”

“The child said you did!”

“Valda may have been mistaken.” Brunnhilde cut in. “I should have sent someone older. He's right, he did not swing at her. Use your head now, you can tell he's not lying!”

Loki harrumphed and turned away from them both. Yes, he could tell. But this had left him agitated, defensive, like a ruffled rooster.

You cracked your eyes open to gaze tiredly up at him. “I did it.” You whispered. “I did the magic all on my own. I'm...seidkona...” You yawned wide.

“You did? Is that what happened?”

“Yes.” Thor said, smiling fondly. “Stole it from my grasp and brought it right to herself. It was too heavy for her to hold, though, and it knocked her down.”

Loki stood, lifting you easily in his arms. “You shouldn't be out here in the dirt. I will take you somewhere better. I've...Well, I've redecorated your room. Would you, perhaps, like to go there? I can also take you to Bjarkhild, or back to the Valkyrie's barracks, or wherever you would like, of course.”

“Redecorated?”

“Yes. Would you like to see? I've wanted to get your opinion on it. It's not quite finished, but we've got all the basics laid out.”

“I'd like to see.” You agreed. “I don't think I'll be walking around much more today.”

He didn't bother trying to hold back his smile. “Then let me see to your needs today. In exchange for the gift you gave earlier.”

“You got the cinnamon roll?”

“Is that what it's called? Such a simple name for such blessed ambrosia.”

“Oh, you don't have to...It's just a simple recipe my Nana taught me...”

Loki could practically feel the heat radiating off your face. Was that all it took to make you show him that adorable flustered expression? Just flowery compliments? If he'd known that, he would have taken a different approach.

He headed off the training field. Aides and secretaries approached, but seemed to unanimously decide to present their business at a later time, leaving him free to carry you back to your room. You hardly recognized it. There was color. Blue, and green, and gold, and silver, predominantly, with the bed in a warm terra cotta. That bed looked so soft and inviting now, with it's fluffy pillows and heavy comforter.

Loki sat you down on it, and you wiggled your way slowly under the blankets.

“Will you tell me about this Nana, of yours, who taught you the mystical art of the cinnamon roll?”

“Wow, you really liked it, huh? Well, Nana wasn't really my Nana, she was my aunt. Mom died when I was still a baby, and Beth was my aunt. She always wore yellow, so when I was a little kid I tried to call her Banana Beth, but it just came out Nana Beth. She taught me how to bake. She wanted kids, but she thought it was better that she didn't have any...Um. I should tell you, there's a medical condition that runs in my mom's side of the family. I might die early.”

Loki took your hand. “Not while I breathe.”

“Ah, um.” Your gaze fell. “It's not that simple. It's brain stuff, there's not much that can be done about it.”

He placed his other hand over the top of yours, forming a little shell of sincerity and reassurance. “I promise you that we can. We have the knowledge, we have the technique. Put that fear to rest. You will not die of any tumor. I will not allow it.”

“You can just...decide that.”

“Yes.”He assured you. “I can.”

“Well...that's...um. Ok.”

The face you wore now was less embarrassed, but no less adorable.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Like I bench-pressed an elephant. My arms feel so heavy; my whole body does. I know I'm gonna have a bruise. What is that thing made of anyway?”

“Stormbreaker? It's made from uru.” Upon your stumped expression, he held up the illusion of a lump of metallic stone. “It's a very rare metal, very hard to find and even harder to work with. There is none naturally occurring on Earth, and unlike nornbein, it cannot even be artificially created here. It comes from stars that have destroyed themselves by becoming supernovas. Hence it's rarity. Not many stars do that, and some of those that do, then go on to become black holes, which consume all the uru. Thus, we must find stars that have exploded powerfully enough to create uru, but not so powerfully as to swallow it all. And of those, some form nebulae, and new planetary systems, all of which are difficult to navigate, especially when one is looking for lumps of metal that can be of any size, and separated by millions of miles. Mjolnir was made of uru as well, and my father's spear, then gilded in nornbein.”

“The hammer? Whatever happened to that?”

“Eh, I'll show you later if you'd like. There is a hall we have set aside for Asgardian history, and there are several things resting there that I might show you.”

“I think I'd like to. It would be good to know more history. I mean, I guess that's going to be expected of me now. How do you work with uru, if it's so hard? Special forges?”

Loki smiled. “Oh yes. The most special of forges, unlike any others. Behold, Nidavellir.”

The image formed in his palms, cradled like a pearl.

You leaned forward to get a better look at the illusion. There was a strange light, and an even stranger ring-shaped structure surrounding it.

“Is...is that a star?” You asked, pointing at the little light pulsing slightly in the center. Loki nodded. “How?” You exclaimed. “That space station or whatever would have to be gigantic! Like, beyond reason!”

“Oh, no no. This is a neutron star. It's what you get when a collapsing star is too big to make a white dwarf, but still too small to create a black hole.” Loki explained. “This one is about the size of one of your larger cities. This ring is rather like the outlying suburbs that surround your cities. So yes, the structure is impressively large, but not quite to the degree you are imagining. This was the last of the eight realms to be added to the count, discovered by my father shortly into his reign. Being so small, neutron stars are not so easy to locate, though it does seem that even human technology has been able roughly estimate where some are.

But when Odin found this one, when he realized what he was looking at, he refused to attempt to conquer them through any violent means. Though there were protests, he could not bring himself to destroy even one member of a race capable of such craftsmanship. This star created the largest amount of uru in all of Yggdrasil, and the entire ring is made of it. The Dvergar that live within it have plenty more stored away as well. They are the only people we know of that can smith the metal.”

“Why?” You asked. “What's so different about the way do it?”

“For one thing, they have a resource that no one else does. They use the star to power everything. The radiation of a neutron star is enough to melt uru for forging. They are also the only people who can withstand that radiation themselves. Someone like myself could not stay for long on Nidavellir. Perhaps only to make an order, or to pick it up. And as for you...well, unfortunately this is another realm I can never take you to see. You'd burn in minutes.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. No thanks. So how did they become one of your realms, if they were never conquered?” You asked. Loki couldn't help but notice the disapproval you placed on the last word. He understood that you found the concept distasteful, but didn't quite understand why. The entire history of your species was one of conquest. Not a single tribe or clan in all of human history was innocent of it.

But there must always be those who try, mustn't there? There must always be those who think and act differently. There must always be a new way. That was the kind of thing that resonated with him.

“Through trade and treaty. We could offer them things they could not get on their own, such as other kinds of metal, not native to the system, and also safe escort to other worlds.” At the inquisitive tilting of your head, he continued. “The Dvergar never managed more than very local space travel, just enough to sweep their system for all the materials it held. Mostly, they had uru, iron, and nickel. That was pretty much it. We brought in metals that, to them, were bizarre and exotic. They loved it! We also provided transport to other worlds, and kept them safe until they went home. You might well imagine that there were plenty of people out there who wanted their own, private, uru-smith, or who wanted to destroy the workers of the metal, so that it couldn't be used against them. And so, a Dvergar abroad is in danger all the time, and they are very limited in number.

So, often for only the price of the materials, they provided us with the finest metal crafts Yggdrasil has ever known. They created Stormbreaker and Mjolnir, my mother's sword and my fath-my spear. Several of my knives, and the enchanted berserker's staves. The Valkyries weapons as well, though only one of those is still extant. And that's just the weapons! We gave them silver, gold, and platinum, and they created the most exquisite artworks. We gave them copper and bronze, and they created the finest wire, the most delicate mechanisms.

Of course,” He said regretfully. “That treaty with them is now null. We can no longer provide them safe escort, or metals in any quantity, so I feel our usefulness to them is at an end. Even when we get the bifrost running, I know of nothing we can offer them that they would want.”

“It couldn't hurt to talk to them though.” You said. “Let them know how your circumstances have changed, and why. You lost your whole world after all, surely there can be some arrangements made. Especially if there's no bad history there.”

“Now that's what I like to see in a seidkona.” Loki praised gently. “Optimism, and a willing-to-try attitude. This is what we need in this time, in this place.”

“Oh, uh, um, thanks.” You mumbled, looking shyly aside.

Oh yes, that was fun.

“How did they make it?” You asked. “The ring I mean.”

“From what they tell, they originally lived on the belt of asteroids that it has replaced. They built bridges linking the larger asteroids together, with their little, local ships, and gathered up the smaller ones as they went. And they just kept building, and gathering, and expanding, until they had an entirely enclosed ring around the star, built up out of the very asteroids that once orbited freely. Technically it is the asteroid belt, only now in the form of one of the most stable structures in the galaxy.”

“I'd like to meet one, someday.” You said idly.

“They are not a handsome people. Also secretive and quite brusque. If they truly evolved on the asteroids, and were separate most of the time, that only makes sense. There are only about thirteen-hundred of them in all, and though they can share a fierce camaraderie when a challenge is laid before them, they more often go for decades without seeing each other. Just working away at whatever project occupies their thoughts at the time. They, unique among all the eight realms, are not a social species. However,” Loki amended, thinking that perhaps he was painting the Dvergar in too negative a light. “They are the ultimate crafters, perhaps in all the universe. They do not know cruelty, or war, only creation. They are honorable people; a Dvergar will never go back on their word, nor ever present less that perfect craftsmanship for trade. And though they are short of speech, that does not mean they are impolite, or inhospitable. Just that they do not share personal information, and they do not waste words.”

You lay back against the pillows, and Loki let the little image dissipate. You looked tired. Perhaps he should let you sleep now, and make the room your own.

“You can use a spear?” You asked suddenly.

“What? Yes, I can. I am trained in the use of a variety of weapons. Most of us are; we simply have weapons that we prefer over others. I like the swiftness and precision of small blades, Thor prefers something heavy enough to destroy armor and knock foes down, and father preferred...distance.”

“And you inherited your father's spear? Is it just because the king doesn't like to use it?”

“Sort of. My brother bequeathed it to me in something of a ceremonial act. Every king since Buri has held that spear, but it was given to me in acknowledgment that I was king before Thor. Also that he intended to break certain traditions, and also because I use it better than he does.”

“Can I see your spear?”

Loki kept his face very carefully neutral. He definitely should not say that you already had, no, he should absolutely not say that. You were tired, and not thinking about your phrasing.

“Later, yes. It is being kept in the History Hall. I'll show you the whole thing. Who knows, perhaps someday you will find mention there. The first human member of the royal court. A bridge between us and Midgard, in this dawning of a new age...”

But you were already asleep.

“Oh. Well. Being the first of anything is always difficult.” Loki whispered, drawing the blankets up around your shoulders. “I know. It's confusing, and there are no instructions, no rules. You must make your own. Tomorrow.”

He left just as you began to softly snore.

                                                                     *****

You walked the road along the fields, whistling cheerily to yourself. Your garden hoe across your shoulders, a spade in your tool belt, and a song in your heart, you crossed over to an empty plot.

These were not the fields of home; there was no corn to be seen, and the white and purple flowers of Iceland dotted the verge. This was more of a community garden, and each plot bore strange plants, significant to the person who grew them.

You had no seeds, but intended to work the soil of your little plot, so that it would be ready whenever you got some.

You chopped at the soil with your hoe: how dry and hard it had become! How stony from neglect! Nothing had grown here for a long time, but soon it would. Just as soon as you had all the supplies...

You saw Loki approaching from a distance, resplendent in the heat shimmer, the eternal summer sun glinting off his fine armor, his gilded horns. In all his finery he came to you, and said nothing, just held out a handful of seeds. You did not recognize them, did not know what kind of plant would spring from them, but you decided to take a chance on them. You sprinkled them carefully over your plot, Loki standing silently at your side.

What would grow? What would it say about you? And would it be what you needed? Only time, care, and tending would tell.

You rolled over in your sleep and snuggled a pillow. You could almost smell the freshly turned earth.

[neen-writes]

Iron Legends -- Reforged: Chapter 19

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime.  Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again.  The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building.  But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.  

Read the Reforged chapters on FFnet here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!!  AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!  

Ko-fi

Note: FINALLY.  I’m so excited to finally post this one.  Essentially, this is an entirely different chapter.  And I am so much happier with what I did with this one, and closed up a lot more ends than the original.  Now, I am still working on the epilogue, which is still giving me plenty of trouble, but I figured I would post this even though it isn’t finished as this gives quite a bit of closure and ending to people that follow this.  Whoever is left that this point lol...but anyway, I really hope you all enjoy this, and the changes I’ve made.  I’ll be updating Ao3 and FF with this chapter sometime later today.  And finally, tagging my reading/support squad cause they give nothing but encouragement when I need it :] @spikerr @smartcookie727 @whereisthefood123 @bluuesparrow @capaleran2

Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3  Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16 Ch. 17 Ch. 18

Igneel wasn’t able to compose himself enough to say something for nearly a minute.  Instead, he slowly slid his gaze to the now dark-faced woman who was supposed to help them with this.  The others had been damaged, uncooperative, but all of them at least knew who they were.

Mira may have been weighing her words, or she was quiet for the same reason Igneel was: this was a huge curveball, and now they had to readjust everything.  

The silence, of course, did not sit well with Gajeel, who glared at them both, slack-jawed.  “What the shit have I woken up into.  Am I even here?  Why the fuck won’t you talk to me!” he snarled, choking on his breath soon after.  A nurse tried to approach him with an oxygen mask, but he threw her such a wild glare that she recoiled.  The lack of answers alone were enough to piss him off, but he had also been made suddenly aware of how empty his head was.  He had no idea how he got here, what they were talking about, and worst of all, who he even was.

With a steadying breath, Igneel looked back to him.  “The name Gajeel really means nothing to you?  Does Jupiter?  Or Jose?” he asked, trying to keep his tone level, calm.  They’d waited weeks for him to recover, to get the most crucial pieces of this whole story, and he evidently could remember none of it.

With a grimace, the iron dragon looked down to the side.  That was the confirmation they dreaded.

Immensely frustrated, Igneel turned towards the doors but Mira stopped him before he could leave.  “It’s not uncommon for patients who have been under this long to have some lasting effects of confusion.  You can’t forget the sedatives we’ve been using to keep them calm.  He sustained a significant level of injury after the event and a great deal of mental trauma.  He only just woke up, we need to give him time,” she explained, her tone hushed as her eyes glanced to the much more subdued man in the hospital bed.  “The medications are fairly intensive, it’s a lot of strain on the body to go through everything he has, and then come back out of it.”

“We don’t have much more time to give.  Is it permanent?” Igneel asked, tight-lipped.  This was not the kind of development they needed.  The man had been through enough; it was time to get them home and close this.  Close every tie they could to Jupiter to ensure it never reared its head again.

“It’s hard to say; not typically, no.  I’ve seen cases that last from a few hours to a few days, it’s hard to say.  Being optimistic… time will tell,” Mira trailed off, looking to the case file tucked under the chief’s arm.  Her brows lifted slightly, thinking of something.  “Do you have photos in there?  For the whole case?”

Igneel lifted his brows and cocked his head back, looking down to the thick folder.  “Not all, but key players, yes,” he replied.

“Show them to him,” she said quickly, her eyes lighting up a bit.  “They could be immensely helpful in triggering something.”

Igneel sighed heavily and nodded.  “Anything to help speed up this process.”

Fucking hell.  These people barely tell me where I am and… god damnit I can’t remember.  The dragon squinted, closing his eyes tight.   He had nothing, only the name that cop kept calling him, the location of the hospital, and a raging headache.  He remembered nothing beyond waking up with a tube rammed down his throat.  Which was a less than enjoyable way to start the day as an evidently new person.

The pain had lessened, or he was just feeling less because of whatever they had stuck into his IV.  He did start to feel better, but he also started to feel weaker.  And with no knowledge of the situation he couldn’t know why they were giving him anything at all.  He tried to lift his arm to examine where the thin clear tube was attached, distracted from the other people in the room for just a moment.

His limb felt heavy as iron, and he could barely hold it up for a few seconds before he had exerted all his strength.  Damn, the hell did they give me?  The frustration wrinkled his studded features.  It was a feeling of powerlessness that he didn’t much like.  

“I’m right here,” Gajeel croaked, finally drawing the attention of the two speaking about him.  “Quit talkin’ like I ain’t in the room.”

Biting back a retort, Igneel approached the hospital bed as he opened up the large file, flipped to the middle, and pulled out a sizeable stack of photos.  He dropped the rest of the file on a chair by the bed, and flipped through the small stack, before grabbing one photo, an old mugshot, to hold out to him.  “This is you,” he said as Gajeel took it from him.  “Does any part of it look familiar?”

He blinked cluelessly, reaching a hand up to his own face to trace the line of piercings that were there.  He looked surprised to find them, just like in the photo, but still, he might as well have been looking at a picture of a stranger.  A fierce one at that.

The lack of reaction had Igneel handing him another picture, this time of Jose.  It was old, but the man’s face would be unmistakable.  At least, that’s what he hoped for.  This was the photo of someone who ruined his life, and Igneel banked on catharsis being enough to wake any kind of memory.

But, the same as before, Gajeel just looked at it blankly.  Feeling frustration grow in the chief, Gajeel’s own started to match it.  He dropped the picture into his lap and hissed out a breath between his teeth.  “Listen, I don’t know who any of these people are, and I don’t know what the hell ya want with me, but I do know I don’t want to be here.”  He lifted red, malicious eyes to the chief, hoping to intimidate him the same way he had with the nurses.  But the redhead just glared back down at him, unwavering.  “Tch,” he hissed through his teeth, “When can I leave.”  It was less of a question, more of a demand.

“When you’re better,” Igneel replied, evenly, picking up the rest of the file from the chair.  This wasn’t going anywhere soon.

“That’s a bullshit answer,” he spat back, earning a heavy glare from the exhausted, and thus volatile police chief.

“Look, jackass.  I don’t want to be here any more than you do.  But I have a job to do, and I have promises to keep.  So we are going to get you well and we are going to get you home one way or another.  If you cooperate.”  

Gajeel shut up at that point, abashed by the scolding, just as Mira stepped up to defuse the situation that certainly wasn’t helping anyone.  She stopped, however, when surprise fluttered across Gajeel’s face, and she placed a hand on the chief’s upper arm.  

His red eyes squinted, unsure where the pit in his stomach had suddenly come from, and why he felt the hair prickle along his arms.  “Say that again,” he said first, shaking his head to try and be clearer as both the doctor and the chief looked at him unsure.  “You have what?”

Igneel lifted a brow, unsure if the boy was being smart again and provoking him.  He glanced at Mira, then back to Gajeel.  “A job.”

“No,” Gajeel answered, quickly.  Too quick, it was half a bark and he tried to steady himself, because Igneel looked half ready to leave at point.  “The other thing.”

“I said I have promises to keep?” Igneel replied, and he might as well have slapped the man with the look on his face now.  He looked to Mira, confused, but she shook her head.

“Let it come to him.  Memory triggers come in every form you can imagine,” she whispered, smiling gently to Gajeel.  “Does that phrase mean something to you, Gajeel?” she asked carefully.   He only leveled a distressed look at her, mingled with defensive anger, like a cornered animal unsure if they were there to help or hurt him.

He looked like he might start to say one thing, the words just barely starting to form on his tongue, but he suddenly shook his head and gripped his scalp.  Spooked out of the thought.  “I don’t fuckin’ know, I don’t know I…” his gaze flew upwards suddenly, glaring nothing short of a warning to them both as the corner of his mouth curled into a tooth-baring grimace, “get out.  If ya ain’t gonna let me leave then get the hell out so I can ‘heal’ in peace.  I don’t know anything okay!?” he snarled, terrified by the clenching in his chest.  Something about that phrase was like plucking a chord in his heart.  The kind of chord that resonates so powerfully you feel it in your teeth.

Sighing in defeat, Mira backed up a step and nodded.  She knew well enough when to accept a loss.  “We can’t push it, this is enough for now,” she said as an aside to Igneel, and she finally turned to leave. “We will revisit in the morning.”

Exasperated, Igneel loosed a breath and hunched his shoulders. “Fine.  I have some phone calls to make and paperwork to fill out now that you’re awake.  Get some rest, or look through these.  Whichever you can be bothered with.”  Igneel took the rest of the stack of photos and dropped them into Gajeel’s lap before turning to leave.  He ran a tired hand through his hair and sighed to himself on the way out of the room, “Heaven knows I have miles to go through this before I get any sleep.”  

Finally alone, Gajeel’s mouth hung open in his wake.  Miles to go.  The words rang through him, loud but echoed, like someone shouting it into a cave.  Promises to keep.  Again, louder, and he grit his teeth.  “Where have I heard this?” he growled to himself.  All of this information thrown at him at once had his stomach twisting, and those words in particular sent his heart into overtime.  The blood pounded in his ears and there was a sudden shift from just feeling like he needed to leave, to feeling he needed to be somewhere.

Eventually, he looked down to the stack in his lap, the photos askew from being tossed there.  The photo of himself was on top, staring angrily back at him.  Gajeel’s lip curled, and he was ready to toss them aside when something near the back of the stack caught his attention, peaking out just slightly between the others.  All the other photos looked more or less the same to him, but this one…

A sliver of vibrant blue was tucked in with the others, suddenly screaming at him to pick it up.  His hand moved independent of everything else, pulling out that particular picture and holding it up in the light to see it better.  Not a single thing in him told him why he chose that picture, why that one called to him, but at the same time everything in him said that one.  Pick up that one.  

Staring at it, his lungs deflated and his heart slammed against his ribs, aggravating the monitor at his bedside.  This photo wasn’t like the others, it wasn’t a mugshot or something clipped out from a newspaper.  It was a personal photo, like someone had taken it from a frame and added it to the file.  Someone had taken this in a place that looked far more comfortable than where he was.  

She sat there, on the edge of a puffy couch, beaming up at the camera, with a blonde girl he didn’t know draping herself over the back of the sofa to get into the picture with her.

That hair.  The brilliantly blue hair with a ribbon of yellow tied into it, the bright smile spread in captured laughter that added rosyness to her cheeks.  The room itself, with an ottoman just out of focus in the foreground and a naturally lit kitchen in the back, suddenly felt familiar.  Why would a place like this look familiar to him?  And most of all, what chance was there that he knew someone like that?  Gajeel saw his mugshot, even with no memories he knew he didn’t look friendly.  The way his foul mouth and inclinations of violence came so naturally to him, there was no possible way he had any connection to a happy scene like this.  It felt like a sin to even feel familiar with it.

Trying to calm his fluttering heart, Gajeel shut his eyes tight, pushing his free hand over his eyes to try and wipe away the image.  He wanted so badly to rid himself of the conflict, and found himself craving the emptiness of before.  In the vast dark of his mind, another image instead flickered to life.  The details flashed so quickly he could have missed them, but the echo left behind by them was enough for him to latch onto.

Small, soft hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look down at her.  Look down into those warm, brown eyes that begged him to calm down.  Eyes that looked to him with pleading gentleness, not fear, apprehension, or distaste.  “Trust me,” she said.  

Trust me.

“Levy,” the name slipped past his lips in a haggard gasp before he even realized it was there.  The beeping on the monitor next to him skipped a whole beat.  His chest heaved, and his mind became a whirl of unfocused color, echoed voices, and flashes of images that came and went so quickly he couldn’t keep them.  The room spun and again, he felt like he might heave on the floor.  A groan built up into him as he curled forward into a ball and scattered the rest of the stack, clutching the one picture like a lifeline.

Sleep wouldn’t come.  In fact, it had evaded her for hours now.  She laid there, staring at the ceiling for longer than she really knew.  Slowly, Levy turned her head to look at the digital clock at her bedside.  4:37am.

With a groan, she rolled over, burying her face in the pillow.  The black cat at the foot of the bed adjusted with her to keep comfortable.

She had been sleeping better.  Overall she did sleep better, despite everything.  But tonight was entirely different, because of what she had done the day before.  In many ways it set her back in her progress, but it also cleared a massive obstacle from her own recovery.

Natsu came to her early the previous morning with a request, one that had him shifting on his feet and wringing his hands out uneasily.  In fact, she had to tell him herself to come out with it.

“They… Lisanna wants you to come to the home.  For Rogue,” he said.  Levy’s eyes widened in response, and he quickly added, “If you’re up to it!  She thinks it would be good for both of you to speak to each other.  Outside of, that place.  She said it would be a good way to move forward, but only if you agree.  Rogue already has.”

It was the most absurd request she could have been given.  Sure, she wanted to know once if he was alright, if he had gotten out of everything, but to be put in the same room with him again was unthinkable.  Impossible.  Entirely different; that man had stolen her from this very house with Jose, he was the reason she had trouble lifting her arm higher than shoulder level.  

Levy squared up to say no, absolutely not, but instead what came out was: “I’ll do it.”

She hadn’t a single clue why she agreed, and as she sat in that living room across from him, even with Lisanna present as a mediator, she berated herself for ever saying yes.  This was a bad idea, it was a terrible idea and I need to just leave.  To back out, she thought.  Levy had her hands clasped so tightly over her lap that her knuckles were white and her fingers started to tingle.  She wanted to stare at the floor, like he was, but she couldn’t tear her intense stare away from him.  As if, were she to look away, he would come for her.  

He looked equally uncomfortable to be here, and he had been told from the start that his brother was in the next room if he needed him.  A support system on the other side of the wall.  Rogue refused to have him in the room, saying he wanted to do it without him, but now, he looked like he regretted it.

“Rogue, would you like to start?” Lisanna finally prompted from her seat, notepad poised over her lap.  Someone needed to break the silence, because neither one of them was going to.

He shifted uncomfortably and Levy could see his throat bob with a heavy swallow.  Finally, after several silent seconds, he met her gaze.  She had to note that he looked healthier; his face had filled out, the darkness was gone from around his eyes, and he looked more boyish than he ever had before.  If only slightly, that did put a small part of her at ease.  She was looking at a person, rather than a figment of her nightmares.  “I’m sorry, Ms. McGarden,” he said, voice shaking.

“Levy,” she replied quickly, and he straightened a little.  “Please, just, my first name.”  They called her that at the lab.  Jose called her that.  The officers interviewing her called her that.  “If we are going to try and do this, let’s just talk to each other, like people,” she said.  “You get to be that now.”  She felt like it was the right thing to say, even if her heart still raced sitting across from him.

Rogue blinked at her a moment, then nodded.  “Then,” he began again, “I am sorry, Levy.  For the pain I’ve caused you.”  His eyes glanced at her now unbandaged shoulder and he swallowed again, remembering just as vividly as she did what happened that day.  What it felt like for him to pierce her like that.  “I am sorry for all of it.”

“I accept your apology,” she replied, sticking with her earlier commitment to find forgiveness.  What else was she supposed to say?  That it was ‘okay?’  Because it most certainly wasn’t.  No part of what they went through was okay, and despite all that she felt she could never begin to fathom what he and the other subjects were trying to wade through.  If apologizing to her was part of his recovery, then she would do what she needed to.  But it didn’t do anything to get rid of the acrid taste in her mouth, or the sweat in her palms.  Which left her wondering, how was she going to make any part of this about her?  How would this help her like it was supposed to help him?

“Is there anything you wish to say to him, Levy?” Lisanna asked, snapping her out of her thoughts and from the heavy, then turned intense stare she had through Rogue that kept his gaze to the floor.  “This meeting is for both of you to try and move past what you experienced.  To say whatever is unsaid,” Lisanna prompted.  Levy glanced to her and saw the whole first page of her notepad was already full, and she wondered how she wrote so quickly.  “It’s for your recovery too, so if you can both achieve closure here, with the… ‘relationship’ you had to one another in this, I think it will help immensely.”

Levy started in her seat, staring wide-eyed at the doctor like she had grown a second head.  “Relationship?” she asked almost breathlessly, trying to tame the bitter grimace.  Rogue remained silent.

“I’m sorry, that was a poor choice of words.  I only meant--”

“I know what you meant.  And the way you keep looking at my shoulder I know you know what happened that day,” Levy said a little more sharply than she planned, “Our ‘relationship’ is that he--”  Lisanna lifted a hand to cut her off, and she did, but still Levy refused to let her talk, shaking her head harshly.  The ‘unsaid words’ she had mentioned were not going to help, because what was unsaid was that her ‘relationship’ to him in all this amounted to a shoulder that still didn’t move like it should and a bubbling fear in her gut she couldn’t rationally get rid of.  “Don’t use a word so… mundane, so harmless, to describe what we experienced.”  For some reason, the use of ‘we’ and the anger at the doctor’s vernacular kindled the tiniest sense of kinship to the man across from her.  “I’m not going to tell you how to do your job but,” she threw a quick glance to Rogue, who found the armrest of his chair to suddenly be the most interesting thing in the room, “there’s a lot I want to say; that I could say, but that isn’t going to help.  There’s no ‘link’ between us, just a shared traumatic experience that I want us both to be able to move on from.”

Looking back to Rogue fully, she shifted a little.  Levy rolled her shoulders, like trying to roll off the tingling where the old injury was.

“I had terrible nightmares,” she said to him now, watching the words hit him to the back of his seat, and she could swear she saw a shadow skitter around his ankles.  Regardless, she pushed forward.  “About you.  About all of it, I still can’t sleep some nights,” she paused, picking her words carefully.  “For a little while, when my shoulder was acting up, I was angry at you.  For listening to him, for helping him that day, but,” another pause, and she could see the color slowly drain from his face.  Lisanna watched more intently than before, like she was ready to end this any moment.  “I realized that none of it was your fault.  I know it wasn’t.  I do know that.  It was him, he did this to all of you, and to me.  But so, so much more to you all..  So, I still have the nightmares, but most of them now are about him.  Following me, showing up at my house, rip--” Levy swallowed the lump in her throat and shook away the unease to finish the statement, “ripping out my stitches right after I called out to Gajeel.”  The shifting of Dr. Strauss in her seat confirmed to Levy that she had details, but not all of them.  Not these.  “My nightmares are about him, not you.  Because I am forgiving you, Rogue.  I understand all of this, and I understand it was not your fault.  And though you and I may not ever be friends, though I am still here, sweating, from just sitting near you: I forgive you.”

He blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly.  Rogue started to say something but stopped himself twice, deeming the words inadequate.  Finally, “Thank you.”  Simple, but powerful.  Judging by Levy’s face, it wasn’t quite what she had expected.  “I didn’t expect you to come, let alone forgive me for what happened, so thank you for that.  But also, I don’t know if it all would have ended if you… if you hadn’t called out to him.  If you hadn’t been there, he might never have woken up; none of us would have.  You started the chain reaction.  So I hope,” he swallowed heavily, somehow managing the tiniest, hopeful smile that sent a crack through Levy’s heart, “I hope he wakes up again.”

She sat, stunned, and in her periphery she could see Lisanna relax just slightly.  It was the most she had heard him say in the short time she had ‘known’ him, and it was the most human he had sounded.  The words were his own, unpracticed and with feeling.  She could see the tension start to melt away from him, like it had been a weight on his shoulders since he returned to this place.

Levy found herself returning his smile with more ease than she expected, and nodded to him.  I hope so too.

The whole meeting had gone about as well as it could have, and yet, here she was now, staring at her ceiling at nearly five in the morning, unable to close her eyes for too long.  When she closed her eyes, she felt that pain again, she saw Jose again, and she heard the screams and explosions again.  She could taste the smoke, and had to keep wiping at her face to convince herself that there wasn’t any soot there.  

So she kept her eyes open, replaying the whole thing over in her head again.  She had been terrified to sit there with him, wondering if he would snap back to the old him at any moment and come after her again, with no one to stop him.  Certainly not Gajeel.  But yet, she really did forgive him, that was the honest truth.  Rationally she knew he was just as much a victim as any of them, and he would not hurt her again with no one to enforce his conditioning or threaten his life.  

She would recover from this, and she would sleep better the next night, but for now she had to forfeit her peace of mind.  Thoughts of a knock at her door, the room suddenly becoming smaller and filling with smoke would not be letting sleep come tonight.  Too many fresh wounds picked back open again.

The clock read 5:15 when she hauled herself out of her parent’s bed, and dutifully, Lily got up to follow her.  The cat rarely left her side, and he must have sensed her turmoil tonight to get up out of the warm bed to follow her.  She was thankful for her thick socks, because even through the fabric she could feel the cold bite of the hardwood.  Still, she put on thick slippers for good measure.

Levy shuffled into the living room, just barely starting to catch the grey morning light, and sought out the coffee pot in the kitchen.  If she wasn’t going to sleep, she may as well soothe herself with something to make her a little more alive.

Her eyes caught sight of the newspaper on her counter, and she frowned.  It had been sitting there for two days, read and reread before being placed back onto that same spot.  It was opened and folded to one article, the headline tormenting her even though she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away.

‘Jupiter Technologies Closed Permanently in Wake of Fatal Explosion.’

She could probably recite the article from memory at this point.  The surviving staff had been detained and their trials set for their involvement with the company.  However, from the way the article was written, it seemed like the trial was only for the sake of following due justice, as the ethical and human rights violations of the company were so severe and monumental that a guilty ruling was the only possible outcome.

The names of the subjects didn’t appear anywhere in the article, and there was only a small mention of their existence, that they were in transition programs and would be kept anonymous.  They’d been excused of any possible wrongdoing, which Natsu had told her before the article ever printed.  That was the last update he had gotten from his father on the case, who had suddenly told him almost a week ago that the investigation was far more sensitive now and he couldn’t give any more details.  And thus, Levy was left wholly in the dark regarding Gajeel’s condition and if he had even awoken yet.

On the subject of Dr. Porla, he never emerged from the facility, but his charred ID badge was uncovered in the rubble, and he was officially listed among the deceased.  Levy could only wonder if he had perished in the chaos… or if the subjects had found him first.  She bit her lip, conflicted on whether she was comfortable with either outcome.  In a way, she felt he should have had to suffer through the trial and prison time, but the subjects were still owed their own brand of justice for what they had been through.  But as much as she hated the man for what he had done, it was still difficult for her to wish harm on a dead man.  Still, all that aside, the knowledge that he was gone helped her sleep considerably better.  It was largely why she kept the article in the first place.  Printed closure.

An impatient yowl from her furred companion brought her back to the present and she looked down at the tomcat.  “I’m up so that means it’s breakfast time right?”  He answered her with a gravelly purr and the upturning of his nose.   She laughed a little at him and shook her head before shaking some kibble into his bowl.

She turned from him to set up the coffee pot and get it brewing before she went to stand in front of the double doors leading out to the back yard.  Winter had not let up on the thick white blanket across her property, but she could tell that today would at least be a clear, sunny day for once.  As time passed, golden rays started to poke through the trees, and she tried to focus on the beauty of that.  

Levy tried to keep from thinking about the times he had come through this door, or the time he left that massive dent in her counter that she tried to never look at.  She tapped her palms against her cheeks and turned back to the bubbling pot to pour herself a cup with cream and sugar..  Lily was crunching away happily in his bowl, but just as she was getting ready to pour her first cup, her cell phone started to chime from her bedroom.

She pinched her brows together as she walked quickly, surprised that anyone would be calling her this early.  Natsu’s name lit up the screen, which really only confused her more.  Tapping to answer, she addressed her friend, “Natsu? Are you o--”

“Levy!” he interrupted her, sounding almost out of breath.  “You need to get to the station right now.  It’s Gajeel, I can’t talk, I’m not even supposed to be calling you, but you need to get here.”

Levy felt all of the color drain from her face, and before she could so much as stammer at her friend, the line clicked.  In shock, she yanked her phone away to stare at the menu screen, trying like hell to even start and process what he had just said to her.

Was that good?  Bad?  He gave her nothing except a vague command and then hung up on her.  Before the thought of calling him back even crossed her mind, she was in the closet, grabbing anything remotely functional to change into.  Haphazardly, she threw on the layers and with her stomach in her throat, she raced out the front door.

She praised herself for having the foresight to put on her boots with the most traction, because otherwise she was bound to crack her skull at the speed she was moving.  The station was only a couple blocks from her house, thankfully, because any farther and she may have collapsed on the way from her pounding heart.

In fact she felt like she might as she burst through the doors of the station.  “Where,” she croaked, and the officer she saw first stood abruptly.  By the look on his face, it seemed like he had an inkling she might show.  And that he had been instructed to stop her.

“Where is he,” she persisted, heading straight for the doors that would take her to the back.  Before she could touch the knob, the other officer was already through it, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“You can’t be here, Miss McGarden.”

“Where is Natsu?  I know Natsu, I know his father; where are they.”  She would not let up.  If Natsu knew he was here, then Natsu knew where to take her.

The officer stared down at her with exasperated defeat, but still pushed back on her shoulders.  Levy shrugged out of his touch and took a sharp step back, glaring up at him.  Waiting for an answer or explanation.

“I’ll get Natsu, but you have to wait out here,” he said finally, waiting until she sat in one of the chairs to head into the back.

The moments after were so crushingly quiet that she felt she couldn’t breathe.  The world around her was barely awake and yet here she was more wildly alert than she had been in weeks.

Was he dead?  Had he not awoken yet?  Was he not going to come back?  The possibilities and questions swirled in her head enough to make her feel sick.  Enough to put her back on her feet and say to hell with whomever tried to stop her.  

Levy nearly knocked Natsu over with how hard she slammed into him bursting through the door.  Instantly his hands were on her shoulders to steady her.  “Levy!” he exclaimed.  “Slow down, I have to tell you something before you go in there.”

Her eyes flew up to him, instant worry on her face.  The tone of his voice turned her stomach.  “Is he dead?” was the first thing to come tumbling out of her mouth.  Barely a pause between the words and a noticeable crack in her voice.

“Levy, geez, no.  He’s alive,” he could see the relief manifest all over her face, “That’s what my dad was talking about, when he said he couldn’t give us more updates, “ the impatience in her face had him leaning back slightly from her.  “He lost his memory, Lev.  When he woke up he didn’t know who he was.  Mira knows he’s gotten some of it back, but he’s completely clammed up.  He said he wouldn’t talk to anyone until he got back to Magnolia.  They have no idea how much he remembers and this was their only way to find out.”

“How long,” she demanded, her voice shaking.

“Late last night, they had him in the second interview room.  Lisanna was on her way when I called you to take him to the apartments,” he replied, just as she started to push past him.  “Wait, don’t get all fired up.  Just be ready, alright?  He might… he might not know who you are, Levy, and technically you’re not supposed to be here.”

Those words warred against the relief that he was awake.  Alive.  Here.  Levy couldn’t decide if the memory loss was enough for her to worry over.  Just having him back here, safe, might be enough for her.  She steadied herself, gave him a grateful look, then brushed past him without another word.  She had only been here a few times before with Natsu and Lucy, but it was enough to know where she was going in the small building.

But when she arrived to the room she was looking for, it was empty.  Her heart sunk.  She couldn’t have missed him, not when she was so close.  Urgently, she whipped on her heels to head back out the way she came, only to come face to face with Igneel.  The intimidating man stared down at her for a second, before loosing a sigh and throwing a sharp glance over his shoulder to his son.  She could have sworn she heard a mumbled ‘of course.’  Levy fully expected him to stop her, to tell her it was too sensitive to be here, but instead: “They just left out the back.  If you’re quick--”

That was all she needed.  Levy was already sprinting for the back exit before he could finish.  Her palms stung with the impact as she slammed the door open, squinting into the now-blinding morning light.  But even with all the white, the black mane of hair was the first thing her eyes went to.  Lisanna and Mira were to his right, and he had an escort of two other officers with them.  

“Gajeel!”  Her voice cut through the frigid, quiet air, and all of them came to a sudden halt.  A sense of deja vu washed over her, and she prayed it would end better this time.  The Strauss sisters were the first to look back at her, then to the other officers with a silent ‘hold back.’  Knowingly, they looked at each other, then to Gajeel.  

Levy’s eyes were fixed on the very still Gajeel, no one else existed.  He had gone stick straight, she could tell even through the massive coat they put him in.  But he wouldn’t turn around.  Natsu’s warning repeated in her head, but still her heart hammered against her ribs in anticipation.  Turn around, god please, look at me.  Know me.

It felt like an eternity before he moved, turning his head just enough to glance sidelong at her with those ruby red eyes.  Looking at that face again, unreadable though it was, nearly knocked the air of out her.  Her knees wobbled beneath her, and her eyes started to burn.  She clasped a hand over her mouth, overwhelmed with the relief of seeing him there.  Alive, okay.  

Gajeel took a quick step back in her direction, turning more to face her straight on, his eyes wide and expression something between surprise and intense interest.  Like seeing a ghost, as the saying goes.

Levy took a step forward, mouth open with words she was trying to say, but couldn’t muster.  The lump in her throat swallowed them all, and she produced only haggard breaths.  Did he recognize her?  Or was he looking at a stranger?  The latter possibility, with him in front of her, now hurt a lot more than she had expected it to.  Still, the tears started to overflow, hot down her cheeks.

Then, his shoulders slumped in relief and tiniest of curls formed at the corner of his mouth, before…

“Shrimp.”  

A single word, but a word with so much power over her that everything instantly became clear.

An unrestrained cry escaped her, and before she knew what she was doing, she was racing for him the best she could through the snow.  Gajeel took several long, quick strides to meet her that turned into a sudden sprint when she stumbled.  In a flurry of white powder, he dropped to his knee and slid to catch her, colliding with a loud thump.

Gajeel wrapped himself around her, hunching forward, as she sunk as far into him as was possible.  Her face disappeared into his chest, tiny hands gripping the front of his shirt, and she nearly disappeared entirely under his large arms and the wrap of his jacket.  He took one deep inhale of her hair and a pervasive peace melted every tension her had been carrying in his muscles.

“You remember,” Levy whimpered into his chest, and a chuckle rumbled through him.  A sound that created a flutter in her chest; a sound she didn’t realize she missed this much until now.

Gajeel remembered her, and the poem she read him that night, the moment he looked at her photo.  He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know the people he was with, but as the last memory he had of her came back to him, he realized getting back to her… or at least finding out if she made it out okay, was the utmost priority.   He managed to get the chief to disclose that she was alive, but nothing else.  He knew they wouldn’t take him back until he was recovered, but he needed to be absolutely certain they would take him back to Magnolia.  He couldn’t stay there in Hargeon.  That meant not talking, or telling them what he remembered, until they took him back.  A powerplay, the best way he could manage.

“I remembered you Lev; everything else just came with it,” he answered, softly.  There was something restrained in his voice, joy perhaps, but she couldn’t pin it.  “It’s always been you.”

Slowly, as though she was afraid she might wake from the dream, she eased back from him and rested a cold hand on his cheek.  The affection in his eyes for her was enough to shatter her, and another sob threatened to break past her lips.  “You’re home,” she said, unable to hold back the laughter bubbling from her chest.

Gajeel smiled, not smirked, down at her.  Home, indeed.  There was no other way to describe her.  Over and over again she seemed to pull him from the dark, even when he had nothing left, no idea who he was, she was still the one to pull him back.  “You’re mine,” he replied, earning him an unreservedly delighted smile.  A smile that made him weak and sent his heart running double time.  Looking at that beautiful face, he realized it was now or never, and he had taken long enough with saying this as it was.  “I love you too, Shrimp,” he said, cupping her cheek with his large hand.  Levy leaned into the touch, welcoming it, and placed her palm over his.  

That was it, he couldn’t hold back from her any longer.  With a light tug, he pulled her back to him with no resistance, and brought his lips hungrily to hers.  She was pliant in his grip, melding herself to him as his other arm shifted to curl around the small of her back.  This was so different from their kiss in the lab, he couldn’t help but dwell on the details.  Levy smelled again like lavender, and she tasted like something familiar he couldn’t name.  Something he’d drank in a past life.  He could feel her smile on his mouth, and her fervent effort to remain close, to make up for all the lost time, created a powerful surge of emotion in his chest. 

It was over.  All of it.  Jose was dead, he vividly remembered what happened in those final moments the day after he first remembered her.  She was here, safe in his arms again with no devil on the horizon threatening to upend that.  And… and he was back in Magnolia, in the open and being offered a new start.  Regardless of whatever trials lay ahead to settle into a real life, the worst was done and he had her by his side for the future.  In his lifetime Gajeel might never be able to understand what he had done to deserve her or the life that now opened up ahead of him, but he could certainly learn to stop questioning it.  Every one of those details became so powerfully real the second he kissed her, enough to almost completely overwhelm him.  After a moment, he thought, why not let it?

A laugh tumbled out of him into the kiss, and she pulled back to create enough space between them to ask what was funny, but he was already scooping her up to get back onto his feet.  He swallowed her surprised yelp with another kiss, spinning on the balls of his feet and scattering more fresh snow around them.  Her surprise turned to muffled laughter against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tight to her dragon.  Tight enough that both of them knew she did not intend to ever let him go again.

Mira looked to her sister, a small smile on her face.  “I think it’s safe to say we will have no problems getting him to speak with us now.  Or settling him in for that matter.”  

Lisanna answered with a small laugh, shaking her head, “No.  No I don’t think we will,” she replied with a tone of relieved finality.

[fleetofshippyships-archive]

WIP tag meme

aaah, I was tagged over 2 months ago by @parkkate O.O sorry for not doing this sooner @parkkate​ XD I’ve been offline for a few months! Just now catching up on everything I missed! but I’m ignoring asks for now because my inbox is a mess

The Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

I’m gonna cheat and only do this for my drarry wips, since I post everything else on another account now, and tbh I have so many drarrys it’s still gonna be a long ass post XD

Oh man *sweats nervously* I’m a bit of a hoarder in all aspects of my life...I don’t even know where to begin! 

I’m not tagging anyone cos I was tagged 2 months ago and I have no idea who has and hasn’t done this and don’t want to be a pain. But if you wanna do it, go a head, and please tag me so I can be nosy and hopefully find someone with a wip problem as bad as my own so I can be less embarrassed XD

Also I’m putting this under a cut for reasons

1. 4th year au idea 

Sooooo, right off the bat, I often open a new file to jot down an idea even though I have docs specifically to dump ideas...and then at some point during the process of jotting down basic details of the idea...I start writing it....? This is one such occurrence...but I had to open it to check...and now I want to keep writing it XD

But also yikes it’s super dark

2. ... 4th year au idea

I swear, this is an entirely different wip and I am going ‘wtf’ at myself because wtf that’s confusing! I had also totally forgotten the existence of this before opening it....probably because of the name of it and the only reason I apparently have 2 files the exact same name is that one is a word doc and one is a libre office doc XD

3. drarry character death idea

Soooo, I need to stop turning idea files into wips without changing the names because I actually forget they are wips apparently

Also, I really want to finish this RIGHT NOW IT HURTS SO GOOD GIMME GIMME GIMME

4. Veela fic followup

LOL LOL LOL I’m rewriting my veela fic so I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to end up doing with this XD I might have to try and merge it with the re-write if the story has a similar outcome when I’m done. or maybe I’ll just turn this into its own thing....

5. Veela fic present tense

I really need to get back to working on this, this is actually the full re-write that re-doing the tenses spawned...I was binge writing this before my life went to hell but then my life went to hell and I went offline for like three months and didn’t do any writing or anything XD

although, the last time I looked at it I got the itch to change it back to past tense so who fucking knows what I’ll do with it now

6. Veela fic Draco pov

Curse my obsession with alternate povs of the same story and Draco for being such a good angsty pov

7. Veritaserum idea start

At least this one has ‘start’ in it so I know it is in fact a wip and not just an idea outline XD

7. Veritaserum

So, turns out I started that fic over in a new file and just left the old one lying around XD I do that too often. I should delete that other one...

Also...this better not turn into another ‘Amortentia’ with me unable to think of a fucking title and going with the file name because lame

This is also my first time trying to do god’s eye 3rd person instead of 3rd person pov...also first time trying to do this weird structure thing...I dunno but I like it XD

8.  CTS followup

9. CTS sequel

Two separate followups set at different times in the same story verse... I hate myself. I love them both. I can’t pick which one to stop writing so I’m gonna keep them both around and try and make them merge at some point...

10. MMB saying sorry

11. another erase the shame

12. next erase the shame

I work on followups and lose interest so often (usually because people bug me for followups and I get very ‘fuck you’ about it and stop writing them...but I keep them around and tinker with them every now and then soooo they’re still technically wips

13. Tea and Coffee oneshot series (Tea and Coffee, Coffee and Dark Marks, The Cottage Kitchen, next untitled one)

There’s also a present tense version of the first one of those *sweats nervously* first 3 are finished, of course, but my original purpose is lost to them becoming a long fic soo....gonna merge them into one long fic soon...once I decide what tense I like better......kill me now

14. Communion of the Soul (folder name)

This is the sequel to One Touch and this is spread across 5 files because apparently I did that and even though each time I got to work on it I have to figure out which file holds which part of the sequel timeline and which I feel like working on...I have yet to merge them into one file to make my life easier...

15. Crumbling Facade

ugh working on this always makes me want to re-write restraint and actually put in the major plot line, or what was supposed to be Harry’s major plot line before the relationship crap got away from me and I had to cut out all the plot stuff because by the time I got around to addressing it, it started reading like a completely different fic and I had to cut a huge chunk and end it instead, because back then I sucked more than I do now and couldn’t juggle

sooo...I still work on this in starts and stops and then get frustrated for having to stick to Restraint’s chain of events when I have better ideas now for working in Harry’s plot about his damn magic problem and ARRGEHGEHGFVEDHDBVUIOFNBFKDB EFBVJ

I should just let Crumbling Facade take me where it wants to take me and fuck Restraint

16. Potter’s Insatiable Heart

This is my longest wip at 130k XD and I’m stalling now because if I keep going with it where I was intending to go it will end up my longest fic and I’m getting intimidated by the length and how much work it will be to edit that long of a fic so I just go in and write a few paragraphs now and again, get scared of the length and move on to another wip XD

I also periodically binge read this bitch because I love it to death even though it’s severely flawed XD

17. Corset Drarry

oh boy, when I started writing this this I was weirded out by writing a kink I didn’t understand and kind of tailed off and left it...then I did kinktober for voltron and now I’m laughing at myself because corsets and lingerie is so fucking tame after that kinktober list and all the the crap I wrote for it XD

18. Music in the Periphery

Emily bugs me about finishing this a lot...I bug me about finishing it, progress is non-existent because I have a clear plan for it and when I have a clear plan I can’t write for shit

19. Saying Sorry (Round 2) (MMB)

I gotta kick that habit of starting over with something but keeping the first attempt and still working on it parallel to the second attempt, because then I wind up with 2 fics too similar to each other to post both and I’m completely unable to pick which one I like more *facepalm*

Also, MMB is dead if I can’t stop turning the next fic attempts into angst, I just look at that big fluffy mess and want to angst it all up

20. scrapped MMB ficlets - theo’s letter

not technically drarry thought the greater series is drarry...torn between making it mmb or making it its own fic for a rare pair

21. Weather the Storm

*cries* my 6th year war au, I have such plans for this, but the plans get in the way of writing =(

22. Soulmate AU (folder name)

fucking hell, this is 10+ files and I’m not naming all of them, current count is 5 completed versions 60k+ each, 1 incomplete alternate version, all of which I’m seriously unsatisfied with, none of which I can bear to delete, all of which I periodically go and tinker with, thus leaving them all wips i’m such a fucking hoarder but also I have never gotten over all the awful comments that were on the original soulmate fic on ffnet before my purge and now I can’t ever be satisfied unless it is perfect and wont result in such horrible comments again

23. Turnabout (folder name)

Once again, multiple wips in here of the same 60k finished fic I’ve been unhappy with since the moment I finished it and keep trying to fix by starting over and changing things here and there to change the course of the story. Honestly ready to hit the delete button with this one unless my latest attempt pans out, liking it so far buuuut I’m a mess about my writing so who knows

In the Ways that Matter was based off this fic XD

24. Dependency 

Oh boy, I abandoned this cos it was so dark I got too uncomfortable writing it...I’ve since started revisiting it after being in the Voltron fandom gave me a new tolerance range for dark content XD

Plan on posting this on anon if I ever finish it, obviously changing the title XD it stopped being relevant after the first 30k anyway 

25. Dependency V2

LOL light version of the above that removes most of the dark aspects while maintaining the core plot, but I’m finding it a bit dull XD not sure how long I’ll keep trying to chug along with it

26. *censored title*

hahahaha omg why is this in a different subfolder, this is actually one of the soulmate au ones only it’s actually a spin off au of the original soulmate one I from ffnet and therefore it’s new ground and I’m less unhappy with it

.....I’m probably going to stop working on turnabout today and work on this instead now

(censoring the name because I might post this on anon because I’m too scared to post another drarry soulmate fic under my own name)

27. Retrospection

Sooo, I’m always on and off this fic cos it triggers my anxiety and depression, but fuck that I want to write it so I keep trying XD

I’m also thinking of splitting the two main plots and only going with 1 and using the other to write another story....see if that eases how difficult it is for me to write without self triggering

28. Sequel to mornings

29. Sunrise (loose prequel to mornings)

30. Surrender

I had no idea what this was, opened it and then holy shit THIS BITCH, THIS SLOW BURN FRIENDS TO LOVERS PIECE OF BULLSHIT. I DON’T WRITE SLOW BURN! I DON’T WRITE FRIENDS TO LOVERS. I REFUSE.

but also I really really really love what I wrote so far and now I’m itching to write more *cries* making this list is leaving me with so many open files to work on

31. day 2 ass worship

32. day 3 sensory deprivation

*laughs nervously* the kinktober oneshots that starting turning into a long fic hahahaha cos I really needed more wips

33. Perception of Angels

*wistful sigh* one day I will be able to finish a heavily plot driven story full of fantasy elements and creatures and magic I made up, and when that day somes, Perception of Angels....or that timetravel war au drarry fic idea I have sitting around.....which isn’t on this list only cos I’m not stupid enough to start writing it

So that’s all the drarry files in my wip folder.... I also have heaps more for other ships and fandoms, but I’m keeping that separate =)

And...now I have some writing to go do, cos after 2 months of being unable to write thanks to the bullshit in my life, I started binge writing again 2 days ago =) and opening a few of these to remind myself what they were has a lit a fire under my ass

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S1 Ep 48-49: This Season Sure Went Out With a Whimper

So here I am thinking I gotta finish up Yugioh S1 so I can at least make sure that’s finished before I start my next pile of projects, and then um, turns out that these two episodes were SO SHORT and filled with SO LITTLE CONTENT that I could basically polish them off real quick. Like there’s only 24 caps for 2 episodes. That’s impressive.

Normally, I pace these out because that’s how long it usually takes for me to make these since I just kinda build it in my drafts with my bro throughout the week, but I have the day off today so I’m just gonna post these back to back to the one that came before, no need to hold out and make a queued post. This isn’t my main blog, I don’t care--have some more content, guys.

It is impressive how little these last two episodes matter. They said what they needed to say last episode, and so now they are contractually obligated to just shove just a whole lot of this game-play mechanic for Dungeon Dice Monsters. Also, this itty bitty computer showed up out of nowhere.

Has it...been here the whole time? Huh. Man--I think it MAY have been there? I just didn’t even notice. And check out this early 00′s computer design. That takes me back. I feel like I had a calculator that was just a mini version of this.

Joey’s still a dog, mostly out of pride.

My prediction of Grandpa walking in on this airing on TV came true, but not in the way I expected.

He’s strangely OK with the fact that Yugi broke his one rule. Just one rule. Yugi broke it. Immediately.

(read more under the cut)

Yeah this was a thing that happened. Pharaoh reading a manual on a computer. Really glad we get the feeling of pulling out the manual and reading the little font while your other friend is trying to explain the game directly into your ear, thus confusing you even more.

But he manages though.

And then we get an eye test, mid battle.

I just want to point out that in this episode we find out that Pharaoh sees like super well. He’s insanely good at eyesight to see a dice at 40 ft away. Just bear that in mind because then it’s followed up by this.

Look at this board! How do you not notice this? Anyways, after that, Yugi has to use Devlin’s red path or whatever, but it’s dangerous, so, because there’s just a hair of doubt, it’s enough reason for them to start being like “Well I’m done. It was fun. I’m retiring.”

Honestly, I think spending all this time connected to Yugi has sort of effed with Pharaohs blind confidence.

Joey in the dog suit was a whole lot of dog puns--which were unbearable, but I do like the idea of Joey in a dog suit. Kinda sad that we have to say so long to dog suit when I was just starting to get it.

Afterwards, Duke has a change of heart. It’s not that often we see a guy actually apologize for being an ass on Yugioh. And he did it all without being mind wiped. I think. The screen did actually go negative-colors, but it didn’t shatter, so I assume that Duke was not obliterated.

I think.

Reminder that Yugi would have spent 10 minutes of that TV show reading a manual. Worst game that ever aired.

He’s certain that his store will never succeed and so now he should just shutter his doors and windows, but Yugi and Grandpa scoff at that idea because they have been living off of the income of a 5 ft store space for like 15 years and if they’re OK, literally anyone can do it.

Yugi actually doesn’t tell Duke the real reason for this is that he’s two people. Instead, Yugi says something trite about being friends forever, because Duke doesn’t realize that if you want Yugi to really love you, just bully him for a while and then he’s forever hooked. Duke agrees to this friendship, and hopefully that won’t kill him inadvertently in a later episode? We’ll see. Most of the people in this room have died at least once.

Welcome to the Spanish class cult, Duke. It’s weird here.

BUT THEN:

Wait. Don’t do that. Don’t work with Pegasus. OMG What? Why is this a good thing? Wait. Show. Show. We spent 40-some episodes talking about how evil Pegasus is, what is happening?

Yeah OK. So that’s...that’s the Duke arc. He freakin decided to work with Pegasus and everyone thought it was a good idea.

Really?

I mean he doesn’t have a millennium eyeball anymore but like...he’s still super effed up. That was the reward? To work for a guy who should go on trial reaallllly soon for murder?

Is Pegasus never going to jail, what is this universe!? He put Kaiba and Mokuba in a card and they’re not gonna sue? Really!?

Actually that makes a lot of sense since Kaiba got really freaked in the bean last arc when he got electrocuted in that pod. And this was after the Pharaoh mind-wipe and getting encased in paper and turned into a zombie for a few days.

Yugi dropping all these puns about how he’s two people right in front of Duke Devlin, eyes unblinking. “You’ll never know where you’ll FIND them” he says “You never know!” 

This cursed child. Nothing will fix you, but at least you found a positive way to deal with it. There’s something to be said for that.

Well, that’s a quiet note to end this season on (I mean no one even died that arc what the hell?), but I guess they already knew a season 2 was in the bag because there’s...a few loose ends they didn’t even bother to tie.

So, just so you know for anyone following, I’m gonna take a few weeks to do some other things, I got some paintings to paint, I got some webcomic backlog to draw, but I’m not abandoning this project, I’ll be back for Season 2. I’d make predictions, but my bro has told me that it is so weird and different from this season that there is no point in predicting anything.

This bizarre show. This show really is just stockholm syndrome for bad hair. You realize it has taken me about 49 episodes but...the hair doesn’t bother me anymore. That’s weird. I went hair blind because of Yugioh.

ONE LAST THING! Before I forget, again! Like I have literally every other recap this season:

http://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

There, that’s the link the see these episodes in Chrono order. In case you came, just now, to this blog, just click on that link and then you’ll be set. It even filters out all the replies posts, so it’s recaps only. Way better than reading everything backwards.

[asklotarasarrin]

Getting Started Role Playing

I’ve had a number of asks on this topic over the years, and rather than retyping the same thing repeatedly, I’m gonna try and collect my thoughts on how to go about this. All of this is assuming you’re on desktop; mobile makes some things a little more difficult. Feel free to add to this; I’m sure there’s things I’m forgetting.

Warning: Long Post!

First things first: Preparation

Get your blog in order

Create a character bio - This should include character name, a description, and a background. If your character is a canon character, then it’s not so bad to forego this, but I think it’s a good idea even for canon characters, as not everyone is going to be familiar with every single character in a universe.

Put a short explanation of the blog in the blog header - This is like a pitch or an introduction to what your blog is about. This should indicate you’re an RP blog, who you RP(if you have multiple muses on the blog, I think it’s okay to just say ‘multiple OCs’ or ‘multiple muses’), and maybe the universe your muse is from. Some blogs also include if they’re selective or not, multi-ship or not, open to cross-over/multiverse or not, etc, but not nearly as necessary.

Rules page - not necessary, but sometimes helpful if you have any particular things, such as being unwilling to RP smut, or you have some triggers/sensitive topics that you aren’t will to do, etc.

Make sure your inbox is open - Seems silly, but I forget this one frequently when I’m making a new blog. Check other blog settings as well- (submissions, anon, etc)

Follow other blogs - This seems obvious, but it is key. Follow other blogs you want to RP with! Find others from the universe your muses are set in. Do take the time to read their bios and rules pages, if they have any.

Write an Introduction post - Not everyone does this, but I think it’s very helpful. It should be a SHORT post, in or out of character. Many blogs are disinclined to reblog long intro posts because people instinctively skip over walls of text.

Reblog RP memes - The Intro post will help generate interest, the RP memes make it easy to break the ice.

Next Step: Getting Out There

Provided you have taken the time to read other people’s rules and bios, reach out!

If they’ve reblogged memes you are interested in, send an ask with that meme - These are GREAT icebreakers so you can get started with relatively low effort. Friendly reminder: Read the meme carefully. Typically the meme has some form of explanation or instruction in it, and it is very frustrating when someone sends in a meme when they clearly did not bother to actually read what it’s about.

Use the messenger to ask to plot - Sometimes blogs don’t post memes often, or they reblog memes that don’t quite work for your character. Politely ask to plot. Try to come with ideas. It can be frustrating when someone comes to you wanting to plot but has NO idea about what to do. I personally will frequently take premises from memes I like and adjust them as necessary.

Open starters - Alternative to memes, sometimes blogs will post ‘open starters’. These are usually open ended in-character posts that other role players can reply to. It isn’t a bad idea to post your own open starters either, if you’re feeling up for it. Note: Generally speaking, open starters once taken by someone are not available for additional role players unless otherwise noted in the tags. If you like an open starter that has already been taken, you can also use the messenger to ask if you can also get in on that. Many RP bloggers use thread trackers, so the starter would need to be copied to a new post before beginning RP.

Important Notes: Etiquette

There are a number of rules and behaviors that are important to keep in mind, some obvious, some not so much. In no particular order.

Patience - This is my number one thing. RPers come from all walks of life- full-time students and career people, big and small families, personal struggles, different time zones, language barriers abound. And Tumblr is not a well programmed website, so notifications don’t pop up, or get buried under other things. So don’t panic if people don’t immediately reply. Don’t be rude when following up after a reasonable amount of time has passed. Give people the opportunity to measure their replies to you.

Try to keep your In Character and Out of Character clear/separate - Some RP blogs are actually a mishmash of personal and roleplay. Many blogs indicate in the tags or with markings of some form(the most common being ‘//’ slashes or () parentheses). It can be confusing for people without these markers.

Do not reblog RPs you are not involved in - This is a personal pet peeve. RP posts are often only snippets of the overall story, and when reblogged it is taken out of context. The other problem is it adds notifications to a thread that aren’t from the partner, and can be confusing. RPThreadTracker doesn’t have a problem with it, but other forms of tracking can struggle.

Respect and ‘Don’t like Don’t follow’ - universes big and small, OCs and Canon Characters over the top and from humble beginnings, we’re all here to have a good time. You’re not going to like every mun or muse you come across. Not every other blog is going to like you or your muse. People talk shit about self-inserts, teenage OCs, people who like to RP almost exclusively smut, and myriad of other things. But those muns are doing things that make them happy. And you don’t get to control what other people do. If you don’t like it, don’t follow. Don’t RP with them. Let it go.

Self Care - This is part of a larger topic and related to the above bullet point, but important to at least touch on. Not everyone who RPs is well or good. This is meant to be fun. So if you are stressed out or overwhelmed by an RP partner or thread for whatever reason, talk to your partner about it. If they do not respect your requests or needs, then it would be better to not RP with them. There are people who struggle with a myriad of health and situational issues. You will at one time or another meet people who will insist you cater to their every whim, try to control you and your muse. Block these people.

Read tags - This may not seem like an etiquette thing, but this is important. Some people communicate extensively this way. It will help to prevent communication errors.

Read More - use the read more function for NSFW threads. It’s the [...] at the end of the options bar

Tagging - Tag NSFW, triggering content, and anything else you think appropriate. I also try to tag my different verses, my in character and out of character posts, etc.

Trim Your Posts - This is hard to do on mobile, but necessary. When a post has many reblogs, it can be tedious to scroll past. Trimming them/cropping them makes a big difference. [Link here for a tutorial on how to trim - Browser]

Mun and Muse Knowledge [Meta Gaming] - There maybe things your character does not know, and cannot know, that you know. Remember to keep the distinction. Nothing kills my desire to RP with someone than their character somehow reading my character’s thoughts.

Controlling other Characters [God Modding] - You control your character. Your partner controls theirs. You don’t control if they get hit by a punch, if they dodge, if they punch back. It’s part of the give and take.

Drive the Story - Role Playing is joint story telling. Don’t put all the burden if directing where the story goes on your partner. Give your partner something to react to, to build on. If you only ever give one sentence replies, it’s going to get tedious fast.

Other Tips and Tricks

I am a big fan of XKit, a browser addon that makes Tumbling much easier for RPers. [Link here!] The specific functions that are most helpful are Editable Reblogs and One Click Reply. Editable reblogs makes it far easier to trim in post. One Click Reply makes it possible to reply to comments and other notification forms.

In addition to those two, I also like to use the Blacklist, and Post Block functions. Some RPers or topics I particularly cannot stand, so I use Blacklist to keep them from my dash. Post Block is great for those discourse posts and individual RP threads that just squick you out for whatever reason.

I also am easily lost and confused by the innumerable notifications I get on the daily, so it became very important for me to use a website called RPThreadTracker. I highly recommend it, as I occasionally have threads that don’t get replied to for weeks. They also have an add-on button so you can click to add a thread to your list quickly and easily.

Terms

There is a bit of a jargon with this. Sorry if it’s been confusing thus-far!

Mun - the writer behind the blog

Muse - the fictional character, the character

IC/OOC - In Character / Out of Character

OC - Original Character

Thread - the roleplay, the chain of posts making up the story

Selective/Semi-Selective/Private/Mutuals Only - This is often in a blog header - indicates how picky the mun is about selecting RP partners and threads. Read their rules. Respect their decisions to RP or not to RP.

Multi-verse - Indicates the blog is open to threads outside of their designated universe. (IE, my Warhammer character being willing to RP with an Overwatch character). It is advisable to message the mun to hash out the details.

DM or PM - Direct message or private message. Both indicate the tumblr message system.

AU - Alternate Universe. Indicates a deviation from the traditional universe.