#idk if you meant them as a couple or as individuals

[nikkiruncks]

Don't like: Owen Milligan & Frankie/Jonah

Owen Milligan: I liked seeing him help train Anya for the army and his bond with Tristan in s12, but aside from that, he’s a fucking sleazeball. I am down to read fic where he does grow and change properly tho.

Fronah: I liked them as a couple in s1-2 and in s3, aside from the online stalking and Frankie being all pouty about Jonah not wanting to fuck her, I think they were cute.

[annwrites]

a call to arms. part one.

— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: desperate to provide aid to your starving family due to the blockade, you venture, along with a great many other lowborns, to dragonstone, in hopes of gaining something—anything—which you might bring back to them; something to fill your little sister's belly.

things turn out quite the opposite as planned, as what you now believe to be a mad queen, locks all of you in her dragonpit, and you're forced to run, hide, & fend for your lives against two hungry dragons.

in the end, only two individuals are left standing: hugh hammer, who has now claimed for himself vermithor...and you—chosen by silverwing.

just when you believe things can't possibly get any worse, you then meet prince jacaerys.

— word count: 1,674

— a/n: do i have a fuck-ton of other fics & stuff to work on? idk, bc we are not going to talk about it. ok? <3

— tagging list: @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @emilynissangtr

He grinds his teeth together, filled with utter contempt—disgust—that whatever you are—bastards, lowborns, flea-ridden rats—are now, above all else, dragonriders.

And he is meant to share common spaces with you now? Such as the Great Hall? Meant to pass you in the halls and tolerate the sight of you?

To ride alongside you?

To treat you with...what? Kindness? Generosity for having 'come to his mother's aid'? He will most certainly not be treating, nor addressing you as an equal. Either of you.

To be a dragonrider...it is a sacred bond. And now he is meant to believe that even the lowest scum Flea Bottom has to offer has the same right as he to sail the skies, unleashing fire and blood upon the enemy?

Never.

He will never.

The rest of them got what they deserved for thinking they had any right to claim that which is meant only for those like him.

Queens and kings, princes and princesses, lords and ladies alike.

He is better than both of you.

Even if he is similar in ways he does not want to admit...

Boots echo against stone floors, dark curls falling over dark eyes, a brooding temperament within.

Jacaerys emerges into the Great Hall, Hugh promptly rising from his seat, bowing his head. "My Prince."

Jacaerys studies him for but a moment, briefly judging the plain-colored clothes he dons, before turning his sights across the room to you, who is seated between two stained-glass windows, arms wrapped around your bent knees, while you cast your attentions outward, instead of on him.

Your Prince.

Your superior.

He clenches his jaw at the sight of your long, silver hair that moonlight casts in an ethereal glow, making it appear as if it is sparkling. Cascading down your back like molten silver in soft waves.

"You there—girl—do you know how incredibly rude it is for you not to stand and curtsy when in the presence of royalty?"

You jolt—torn from tormented memories of but a couple days past; of people running, screaming for mercy. Dying choking on their own blood as dragonfire burns them alive.

None of you had anticipated—had imagined—that the very queen you were coming to, under the guise of offering your aid to in the war, would lock you in a room to be eaten by terrifying beasts.

Aegon deserves the throne in comparison to such a monster.

You have made a great mistake, mayhaps. Then again, becoming a dragonrider has already filled your belly, provided you with clean sheets to sleep upon, a guard outside your door, hot baths.

But it is not you who needs these things. You want them for your family.

There is no turning back now, however. You knew as much with certainty when that silver dragon laid her head at your feet before leaning forward, brushing her warm snout against your abdomen while you struggled to contain your bladder and bowels. While you sobbed hysterically, begging for mercy from a being that you do not so much as share a common language with.

You know not a word of High Valyrian, though you will now be expected to learn, you suppose.

Among many other things. Such as how to ride the animal...

Your stomach twists nervously at the thought.

You turn away from the window, slide off the ledge, then grab your skirts in either of your hands before tucking a foot behind your other ankle, bowing. "My Prince."

He scoffs, coming closer. "That was the worst curtsy I've ever seen."

You fold your hands in front of you, keeping your eyes downcast. "Forgive me, My Prince, it is...the first time I've attempted one."

He rolls his eyes, settling his arms behind his back before glancing over his shoulder to Hugh, jerking his head toward the hall he's just come from, and he quickly makes himself scarce.

He looks back to you.

"And what is your name?" He demands.

"Y/N," you state quietly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. "You are to look at me while we're speaking. Do you understand?"

You nod, trailing your eyes upwards—over a red-and-black velvet tunic, the three-headed symbol of his house embroidered upon the breast—until they're looking into hues of chocolate-brown.

He clenches his hands into tight fists behind his back.

You've every trademark of a pure Targaryen: silver hair, lilac eyes—with flecks of violet—skin so fair it's near-translucent, delicate features.

He fucking loathes you for every asset which you possess and he does not.

He would never—will never—state it aloud, but you look far more Targaryen than he ever will.

He wishes one of the dragons had taken you down its gullet as well. That way, he would not be forced to suffer the nigh-daily sight of you now.

He looks you over, circling you like a dragon does its prey—desperate to find something he may use to mock you with; some imperfection—before standing tall before you again.

"You think wearing rags before your Queen's court appropriate?"

Your expression quickly settles into a scowl.

Good, he thinks. Give him an excuse to introduce you to the Queen's justice. He is silently begging you for as much within his malice-filled gaze.

Your small hands clench into fists at your slender sides. "My mother made this dress for me."

His jaw ticks. "From now on, you will wear more suitable clothing when outside your private chambers—which means conservative in nature; not whatever men found desirable upon the Street of Silk. You are a representative of our house now. A dragonrider. A soldier to our cause. You will look the part."

Tears sting your eyes as yours bore into his own hatefully.

"I am not a whore," you reply contemptuously.

There is a beat of silence, his brows furrowing slightly. Surely you are lying. You have the look—more than.

And then you continue.

"And with what coin, My Prince?" You sneer.

He takes a step closer, causing you to shuffle backward, catching yourself against the window-ledge, the stone digging into your palms as you grip it to steady yourself.

He leans in close—your faces mere inches apart. "I beg your pardon?"

You do not shrink away from him.

Gods, you already hate him with all that you are.

"I came here for coin. Desperate for—"

"So greed is what sent you? Not to aid us in winning back my mother's throne? Her rightful seat. You come to steal away a dragon, and then what?"

"My family is starving!" You finally shout, at the end of your rope from the last few sleepless nights that've been filled with nightmares instead of rest; your temper having reached its limit. "My mother and little sister both! How would you feel if it were you? If your loved-ones were suffering, while all you could do is sit back and watch them waste away before you? So, yes, I came. I claimed a dragon—even if my intentions had only been merely to host audience with a clement queen who would provide aid to her suffering subjects. Not burn them alive for coming to help her!"

He grits his teeth. "You will watch your tongue, you insolent little wench. My mother sent boat-fulls of food to King's Landing. She has provided—"

You begin to laugh, with a lack of humor behind it all, cutting him off. "Oh, yes, how very kind of her to give aid to the very subjects she is responsible for the suffering of in the first place. The blockade is all your all's fault! People were fighting like dogs in the streets—assaulting—killing each other for a small sack of grain! I risked mine own life for a peck of potatoes! That's it! Even then, I was forced to wrestle a full-grown man off myself to get it. I was fortunate to escape with my life—with any food to speak of for my struggles!"

You step forward, forcing his royal highness to take a step back, and he swallows thickly.

"You've never known hunger a day in your life, have you? Never known what is it to wear 'rags' while you don your silk and velvet, while you sleep on thousand-thread count sheets, while you flout your jewels, and your fancy titles, and your gilded castles while the rest of us bow and scrape before your feet for a mere morsel of respect! You are meant to take care of us!"

Once you've finished, your heart pounds in your ears, your shoulders rapidly rise and fall, and it's then that you notice Prince Jacaerys' hand is tightly gripping the pommel of his sword—his knuckles having now gone white from the force.

Your eyes flit back to his, tears filling your own. "And I am meant to one day call you king, given we are 'successful' in our endeavors to win your mother back her glorified chair," you say, spitting the final word at him.

The two of you stand tall before the other, refusing to be the first one to break—your chins held high, even if your stomach is now twisting painfully into knots while your bowels turn to water.

If he puts you to death for your unimaginable disobedience—your disrespect...who will help your family then?

Your little sister... Your little girl.

She became as much when your mother went away in herself after your father's passing. It did not matter that you were still a mere child yourself when it happened. She became your responsibility to look after and tend to from that day forward.

And now...you feel as if you have failed her.

"Go to your room," he orders lowly, his body shaking from anger, brief pauses between each word.

You curtsy one last time.

"My Prince," you mumble, brushing past him, wanting to break something.

He stalks off in the opposite direction, feeling much the same: wanting to burn something—or, rather, someone—alive.

[ilys00ga]

life after his enlistment.

pairing: yoongi x reader

synopsis: how life/the relationship was like after he enlisted.

genre: fluff, established relationship, yoongi enlisted, they are trying their best, idk if I should call it angst or hurt/comfort, but there's some kind of ✨️melancholy✨️ in this (predictable much), I effing miss him sm more now :(.

warnings: t.w: if u are just like me, prepare to be missing yoongi sickeningly after this. gosh, it feels like a hole in a chest rn. idk what to do w myself. oh btw some ideas mentioned here are purely my own opinions, so it doesn't have to be "facts" or "all true." if u have different opinions or if u disagree with any it u can reach out to me about them, I would like that, but that's that, enjoy!!!!!!!!!

A/N: this was a request made by @kimvante2013 I hope it meets ur expectations! this was so fun to write, I liked this a lot. feel free to send more reqs or anything u want :)

PS. English is not my first language, so you know the drill.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

the problem wasn't that you couldn't see him, no.

since his duty was different from that of an ordinary individual, you both were able to spend the nights in each other's arms.

when he comes back home after duty, sometimes he's met with an empty house where he'd wash up and start preparing something for you to enjoy munching on once you get back home at a later hour of the day. other times, he comes to a busy, warm house. you blasting your favorite drama on the TV while doing the laundry in the middle of the living room, or just chilling and waiting to welcome him with mellow hugs and kisses.

and when he's on duty, he can't always contact you, but he whispered kisses laced with promises into your lips before leaving on his first day, and he would never dare to break them. not that he wants to anyway.

sometimes you'd wake up to post-it notes sticked on random surfaces and items around the house, or good morning messages of love and kisses. sometimes he calls during lunch breaks to check up on you, reminding you to drink water and eat well because that's yoongi's most precious habit of showing that he always just cares.

"don't forget to layer your outfit today, I just saw that it's gonna be awfully cold."

"did you like the bouquet I sent? want more? cook me ___ tonight xx"

"hi, don't forget to drink a cup of water right this instance or you'll shrivel up and die."

"it snowed on my way here this morning, let's go out this weekend and have some fun :]"

when days are too hard to handle, weighing one of you—maybe even both of you at the same time, cause life is a bitch like that—down and burying you under the ground, you'd send long voice messages to the other. never expecting an immediate reply. just simply pressing record and spilling all the bottled negative energy that clogged your brains and chests.

so, the problem wasn't really that you couldn't see or talk to him..

the problem was that neither of you were used to any of that.

you weren't used to being away from each other for long hours throughout the day (even though he often went on tours and job events aboard), or not being able to talk and/or see him whenever you wanted to—atleast whenever your shift agreed to let you. you're stuck on this routine for months. you were so not used to that.

over the years, you and yoongi grew to become a pen and a paper: two different items that are meant to only function and be paired together. one can't be capable without the other.

yet you try to avail yourselves of the situation and take it all easy. slowly, like waking up and leaving a warm, comfy bed at 5 in the morning to gain some purpose somewhere out there.

so, while staying away from one another for several hours a day comes with heavy challenges and even melancholy at times, that doesn't mean it can't be fruitful for your relationship.

since for it to grow healthier, a couple, intentionally or not, sometimes needs to take some "time off" to preserve the connection and intimacy between them.

you always remind yoongi of how much you had missed him during the day, which is something that never failed to put a smile on his face and trigger a stream of butterflies in his stomach.

love and yearning are two inseparable powerful emotions that one can't defeat, and absence makes the heart grow fonder. that's the beauty of the challenge your relationship was subject to at this new stage.

"I am still me, you are still you. everything's gonna be alright." yoongi would say as he hugs your face into his chest.

he always reminds you that this new chapter the two of you have entered together, hand in hand and with shaking hearts, is one that he'd been dreading but looking forward to for a very long time.

a chapter that made him understand how much he needs your existence in his life. to be himself and to be the somebody you need and deserve.

and he makes sure to translate that into your skin as he traces it with his lips and fingertips when you finally fall into each other's embrace.

[meanbossart]

i havent finished your fic yet but i also assume maybe this is something youd like to answer on it, so ignore if its something youd answer there:

do you see the drow and astarion being together until durge dies (or either of them due to circumstances really, since IDK if redeemed durge is potentially the immortal chosen of jergal) orrr they split amicably (or not) along the way

I can say confidently that there is no "will or won't they" shenanigans intended for the fic, as I'm not really interested in that kind of tension. The conflicts in their relationship are very much meant to be vehicles for individual character development, and not a looming threat of "omg are they gonna break up???". Which is to say I have not really entertained that scenario, and I guess the romantic in me likes the idea of them staying together until someone gets either a stake to the heart or a sword through the neck, changing dramatically as people every couple of centuries but ultimately remaining stuck at the hip.

Also, as idealistic as this might be, I do think it makes sense that durge (and DU drow by extension) would be immortal as well. I haven't 100% decided if I want that to be the case (and I might never do), but as far as lore goes I'm definitely leaning that way for now.

Anyways, I think it's more likely one of them will be killed eventually, and that's how they part ways - or how Astarion would, at least. I have a difficult time envisioning DU drow moving on from such thing.

As a side note, ANE is on a little break because I wrote like 200+ pages in a few months and needed a breather LOL but I will be returning to it eventually! The story is fully planned anyways and there's a lot of stuff I'm excited to get to.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

If you're still taking requests, can you do 03-Donnie helping a runaway girl? Maybe they meet when they're both young, he helps her find a safe place and guides her there, then they meet again years later and she's doing better? I'm in the mood for something bittersweet, if thats okay?

Human Complexity (Angst/Fluff)

2003!Donatello x reader

A/N: I’ve been watching a lot of COPS and JAIL recently, so this is very much inspired by some of the stories told there. So I guess the reader being a runaway is implied? Idk… With that being said, I’m very aware that there’s a lot that keeps people in these kinds of situations, and it’s not always just a matter for decision. If anybody in this kind of situation should be reading this, I hope that you are okay, and I send you love and thoughts💜

Reader and Donnie are 18 at their first meeting. Second meeting happens five years later.

Warnings: Implied prostitution, implied drug use, talk of homelessness.

New York City sounded with its usual hussle and bussle as Donatello made his way across the roofs. The city that never slept, and Donnie was very much aware of that. Whenever he and his brothers decided to venture out during night time, there was always something happening. Something to see, something to hear or something to fight.

Donnie genuinely liked venturing around on the surface, watching as people and their normal day to day passed by. On the few days he actually had time for himself, that he decided to spend outside of the sewers instead of in his lab, it was the rooftops of New York City he ventured to, enjoying the sight and night air.

It was on the roofs of New York that Donnie got an inside into humans’ life. Sure, he learned a lot from April, Casey, the internet and television, but there was just something about watching strangers on the street. Couples on long walks, families enjoying their evening, or the lone stranger enjoying their time. The calm and nice stuff.

But Donnie had also learned of the darker parts of human life. Couples would fight, some families would split up, and that lone stranger might be a lone stranger for a reason, or wishing for some company. Humans were complex, and Donnie learned that humans often had more than one reason for the things that they did. And sometimes those reasons was only known for that one individual, hidden far from Donnie’s own logic. But that didn’t stop Donnie from trying to understand, though it might be hard or confusing at times. And that night, Donnei would find out just how hard and confusing it could be, even if he meant the best.

That night, Donnie hadn’t expected to see someone like you, walk out on your own in one of the more dodgy parts of town, not far from the harbor waters. A young girl dressed in a rather short dress and tight short sleeved top, hair set up, and make-up done very well, walking in very high heels. That was when Donnie realized you weren’t walking, but standing on a street corner, looking up as a lone car would pass by every once in a while, smiling, maybe even waving at them, hoping that they would come closer. But they didn’t. Instead they continued on their path, leaving you standing back, waiting for the next car to come by.

The sight of you standing out on the street like that crushed something in Donnie. He didn’t have to wonder for long in order to figure out what you were doing. But the one thing he couldn’t figure out was why you were doing it. Such a young, beautiful girl. Why would you do something like that to yourself? Donnie simply couldn’t figure out why, and so, he decided he would have to find out the truth.

Donatello made his way down to the street you stood on, hiding in the shadows of the nearby alley, close enough to hear you sigh over the sound of crashing waves in the harbor just on the other side of the street.

Another car passed by, the front light lighting up your face, showing a small smile spreading on your lips. But before you could get your hopes up, the car was gone, nothing but the red back lights shining back at you, your shoulders slumping in disappointment.

Donnie watched you at this new angle for a moment, noticing how your bare legs seemed to shake in the cold night air, or how you every once in a while would wrap your arms around yourself, in an attempt to warm yourself up. It was saddening to him. So saddening, that Donnie no longer could keep his mouth shut. He had to make contact.

“Are you cold?”, he asked, watching as you jumped in your place, turning to look at him in the shadows. Your eyes widened in shock at the sight of the green man in front of you. You were shocked, frozen just like your numb toes in your high heels. Should you scream? Probably not a good idea. If anybody was in the area, it would make people look. And maybe someone would call the police. And that was not an option for you.

“No”, you lied, taking a look around to make sure that no one was watching the interaction between the two of you, as you dropped your arms down by your sides. “I’m fine”.

“Are you sure?”, Donnie asked, slight concern in his voice. “You’re shaking”.

This comment made you shoot him an annoyed glance, letting him know that you were not interested in his small comments, or whatever the hell he was trying to do. He was killing your mojo, and if he didn’t shut up soon, he might be the reason you would miss out on a probable customer, if you weren’t ready when they drove by.

Silence fell between the two of you as you refused to answer him, instead looking down the street, seeing if any cars were about to drive by, but none so far. But Donnie wouldn’t shut his mouth. He wanted to know if you were doing what he thought you were, and if so, he wanted to know why.

“Are you working?”, Donnie asked, causing you to shoot him another angry glare.

“What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re talking about”, you said, hoping for a car to pass by any time soon.

Donnie didn’t say anything to that. Your reaction was answer enough for him. You were indeed out working.

His gaze drifted from your face down to your bare arms. “Are you trying to fuel a habit?”, he asked bluntly, making you turn to him in shock and anger.

"Excuse me?”

“Your arms”, Donnie said, pointing towards the nock of your elbow. “I can see the needle marks”.

You quickly slap a hand over your arm, hiding it from Donnie’s view, fighting the brewing anger within you. Who did he think he was?

“I don’t have to answer to an oversized frog”, you said, clenching your jaw in frustration as you looked away.

“Turtle”, Donnie said, pointing with his thumb to his shell. “I’m a turtle”.

“Same shit”, you huffed, shifting your weight from one leg to another. “Both are green and not supposed to be so big or able to talk”.

Donnie didn’t answer that. He was sure you meant it as an insult, but he didn’t care. Instead he looked at you with worry.

“Is your pimp nearby?”

This question made your tough exterior falter, your eyes falling towards the ground with a sad expression. “I don’t have a pimp”, you said, pausing for a moment, thinking about your next words. “I work on my own. More money for me”.

“And what does that money go to?”, Donnie asked. You didn’t answer that question, instead glancing down on your arm for a moment. Once again, you were able to answer Donnie without words.

“Why do you do it?”, he then asked, genuinely curious. You shrugged your shoulders, your eyes not meeting his. It was like you were ashamed. And that was when Donnie realized, you were in fact ashamed. You were not proud of the situation you found yourself in. It made Donnie feel horrible.

“Do you have a place to stay?”, Donnie asked, at this moment just wishing for you to go home to a safe place. But when you delayed an answer, the realization kicked in hard for Donnie. You in fact had no place to stay.

“I… I might know a place where you can stay. It’s up to you if you decide to go there or not”, Donnie said, unsure of how you would react. He told you about a bridge not far from where the two of you stood, where a bunch of homeless people were living together. He told you to tell them that Donatello had sent you. He then told you of various places you could go and ask for a job. That pizza place he and his brothers liked to order food from, the orphanage Mikey provided toys for that one Christmas, and even April’s shop.

You took in all the information Donnie provided you, your expression staying emotionless, your eyes still kept to the ground, giving him a small nod when he had stopped talking.

“Thank you”, you said, your voice small and low. “I’ll think about it”.

And with that, Donnie knew it was his time to leave you alone. You had not asked for his help, yet here he was, dumping it all on you. He had no idea why you were out here, nor what else might be keeping you here. But you had listened, and Donnie couldn’t demand more of you. What else you decided to do, was all up to you, and he couldn’t force anything.

“I… I hope to see you around”, Donnie smiled at you, before taking a step back, retreating back onto the roofs, noticing how you stood and looked after him as he left. And with the look in your eyes, Donnie hoped that you would find a way out, and that he indeed would see you around one day, hopefully under better circumstances.

—

Years passed, and Donnie never saw your face again during that time. There had been nights where he ventured out in New York, hoping to get a glimpse of you, giving him a sign that you were doing okay. But when he returned to the street corner he had found you on, you were gone. And you never returned to that corner. Neither did he find you on any other street corner in New York.

Donnie hoped that your absence meant that you were doing good, on your way to a better life, but he could not help but feel worried for you. The unknown gave his head room for worry and making up strange scenarios, in which the all ended with the worst happening. And with every scenario he hoped was untrue, he hoped that you were okay. This stranger he had met on a street corner, who should not have left an impact on you whatsoever, since he didn’t even know your name, yet here he was, continuously finding himself worried for your wellbeing. But as the years passed on and Donnie found no answers to his worried questions about you, he had to move on, hoping that he would one day forget all about the stranger he met on a corner down by the harbor. But then, just as Donnie thought you were all out of his mind, he finally found an answer.

Just like that night, five years ago, Donnie found himself roaming the roofs of New York City, watching the humans below as they lived their lives. Just like back then, Donnie still had many questions about humans and their complexity. And in those five years, he had not gotten one step closer to answering those questions.

That night, Donnie decided to place himself on a small balcony, at the top apartment of that building. From his hiding place high up in the dark, he could watch as humans passed by below, unaware of his observing eyes. But just like the humans on the street, was he unaware of a pair of familiar eyes watching him from inside the apartment.

“I can never get away from you, Frog Man, can I?”, a familiar voice spoke, making Donnie jump on the balcony in surprise. He turned, finding your face smiling at him from the balcony door. You looked healthier than when he last saw you. You had swapped your short skirt with a pair of black slags, and your small crop top had left for a well fitted white shirt instead. You looked washed, your hair down, looking stronger than before.

Donnie stared at you, his mouth open as he searched for the words, but his mind was blanked, surprised to see you again after five years of looking.

“Are you cold?”, you asked, crossing your arms and leaning against the door frame. “You’re shaking”, you continued, imitating his words from that night five words ago.

This was what pulled Donnie from his state of shock and confusion, flashing a smile at you. “Oh, shut up”.

“Nah, I don’t think I will”, you teased, smiling back at him as you walked out on the balcony. “Last time I saw you, you just kept talking, so I would say this is the least of the payback I could give you”.

“I guess that’s fair”, Donnie said, making space for you out in the open. You both stood out in the air for a moment, silence filling the space before Donnie finally decided to break the quietness. “How are you?”

“I’m good”, you answered, still smiling. “How about you?”

“I’m very good. Especially now”, Donnie said with a delighted chuckle. “I’ve actually been looking for you. I was getting quite worried”.

“Yeah, sorry about that”, you said, scratching your neck. “I kind of turned my life upside down after we met”.

“How so?”, Donnie asked curiously, watching as you started to play with your fingers.

“I took your advice and found the homeless you talked about. I didn’t even have to mention your name before they took me in. They were actually really nice”, you explained. “I then went to the pizza place you talked about, and just like you said, they were willing to give me a job, even though I was homeless and couldn’t shower regularly”, you continued. “And with a new area to stay and an actual job, I was finally able to gather the courage to cut ties with my dealer. I’ve actually been clean ever since that night”, you said, keeping your eyes on your hands as you played with your finger nails. “It took quite some time, but I slowly gathered enough money for a place to stay. It started with a motel room, then a small studio apartment with only room for a mattress and a mini fridge. And then finally, I was able to rent an actual apartment”, you said, turning to look at the room beyond your balcony door. “I moved in last week”.

“That’s amazing!”, Donnie said, truly amazed by what he heard.

“I guess it is”, you said, your cheeks growing with a light pink color, before you looked back at Donnie once more. “But now that you’re here, I would like to say thank you”.

“You don’t have to say thank you. I didn’t do anything”, Donnie said, feeling his own cheeks heat up.

“Yes, you did. Instead of just looking away and ignoring me, you talked to me. You told me what to do and left me to do it on my own. You didn’t save me, but you did give me an opportunity to work for a better life”, you explained.

“Oh, well, I guess that makes sense”, Donnie said, feeling his face grow even hotter. If he had ears, he was sure they would be bright red at this point.

You noticed Donnie’s flustered state, smiling at how adorable it was. There was no denying how sweet this man was.

“Would you like to come inside and see my apartment?”, you asked, nodding towards the balcony door. “It’s getting cold out here anyway”.

“Are you inviting me into your home?”, Donnie asked with a chuckle. “You don’t even know my name”.

“Well, mine is (Y/N)”, you said, standing in the doorway once more, half way inside. “And yours?”

“Donatello”, Donnie answered.

“Well, Donatello, would you like to come inside and see where your nice words have gotten me?”, you asked, your eyes shining brightly at him. There was no way Donnie could say no to those eyes.

“Of course I would like to do that, (Y/N)”, Donnie answered, before following you through the balcony door and into your apartment.

[pastadoughie]

update 4 the creechers

i have settled on an outfit

reading thru a couple of comments of people misenterpreting me made me kinda realize that like. i dont really like the initial approach i took 2 her chr design? i think when making chrs that r a specific nationality its rlly good 2 incorperate little elements that are a part of the culture, but seeing people boil down me asking for an outfit for a chr that incorperates elements of chinese culture as just oh pick the most "chinese" outfit is like?? kinda shitty?

and i was kindof doing that too- i think alot of historical chinese fashion is really cool! and theres an urge to try and be like. "authentic" to that, to take what is supposed to be a character that is FROM A PLACE and make them a representation OF THAT PLACE- witch i dont.. like.

the "authenticity" of a fashion, that is the historical accuracy, doesnt actually practically matter when creating a modern character? its very common in all cultures to take older fashion and update it to be more modern, its mostly disrespectful when it becomes clear that you are doing like, 0 reasearch and are just mushing misc "asian looking" stuff together, (like people squishing together japanese and chinese culture into one thing) asian people are like- individuals n shit, looking at actual screenshots photos and videos taken in china & hk people just dress the way that they like and that is practical, the actual snippets of chinese culture you pick up from being an american are only ever the loudest bits (or the ones people like to be racist about) witch if thats something you never try and work around you end up tokenizing and dehumanizing people i dont think theres anything wrong with making chrs that are meant to be representative of a culture but i think its important 2 ask urself what you actually want, for me i wanna make a cool chinese dragon tgirl, so outfits i make for her should be like, cool swag outfits that someone would wear before i add anything ele

idk tho im white

[ddamm]

Pre-baby Stress - dad!Daryl x pregnant fem!reader fic

(banner made by me, if you use, give credits <3)

Warnings: VERY, VERY long; initial soft fluff to slight angst to fluff; slightly suggestive so, watch out 👀; pregnancy; hormonal changes, “mood swings”, food cravings; stressed Daryl, stressed reader, slight insecurity and fear of abandonment; reader crying; reader and Daryl are married; reader is said to have golden retriever energy and be a cottagecore girlie (sorry if you aren't, but I vibe so much with this core 😭), and perhaps an artist (tho it's just as a hobby, obv 🤭); nature love and appreciation; funny/silly little memories.

Word count: 3936 words (keeps increasing with each new release 😭)

Era: idk, probably Alexandria

Summary: While getting things ready for Y/N's pregnancy, Daryl presents with many insecurities. All it takes is some caressing, encouragement, and the love of his wife (a few tears also) to convince him otherwise.

A/N: this fic was something I fabricated long ago with a Daryl c.ai chat that I've been saving up for a special occasion since I've never written dad!Daryl before. And today, I'm bringing it to y'all as a way to celebrate one of my very besties/mutuals on Tumblr, a great writer, the creator of my possibly ever favourite AU with Daryl (young!Daryl SSHD AU) and a very nice, kind and funny individual in general; Krys (@dixons-sunshine). This is to commemorate you, gorgeous. It took some time to finally sit and get to it (not me writing most of it at 2 am, half-constipated, and not being able to sleep) but it's done now, so I hope you can enjoy it as much as I did when writing it. Everyone, hope you like it too!

Song: Winter Memories - Jordy Chandra (The title says “winter memories” but I am thinking of a mid-spring Sunday morning/noon 😭)

MDNI divider by @cafekitsune, on this post

(This was supposed to just be suggestive, but since idk if I overdid it, I'm just gonna place this)

(all babycore dividers used are from @anitalenia, found on this post)

Days were passing by, and things were going pretty well for the community. She was glad they found Alexandria. It was a nice change, and it felt like they could truly have a moment to take a break there, like they could finally be happy and just settle in, trying to have normal lives once again.

And her positive thoughts only increased when a lovely lady from the community gave birth. It was an occasion to celebrate, and for a couple of months passing, it seemed like a lot of good things were happening around, so she couldn't be happier.

Ah, there she was, parading herself in her light cream-coloured sundress, with a white little parasol (courtesy of her loving husband) to protect herself from the sun, as she strolled around the streets, exploring and marvelling at the beauty and tranquilly around her like a happy puppy would on their first stroll into the outside world.

Oh, she loved that dress so much. Not only was it beautiful and fit her personality, but it was also quite adjustable, so she wouldn't need to worry about sore breasts or her belly being uncomfy. She could still remember how comical Daryl's expressions were when she tried explaining to him the concept of aesthetic cores and how she was a cottagecore.

He seemed so lost that she laughed for about 10 minutes before deciding to somewhat draw it to show him what she meant; predicting that a more visual approach would help him understand the concept better. He did admit it was pretty much her vibe after seeing the dresses and all the stuff "a cottagecore likes and does".

After that, whenever he would go out for his runs, he would try to look for dresses like the one she drew, and whenever he couldn't find any, he would bring drawing or painting materials, old cameras, or little flowers he thought she would like. (PD: She always likes them.).

That's how her most favourite memory of a Sunday morning came to be. And like that, every Sunday morning, after her husband would leave for runs or tasks, she would wear her light cream sundress and white sandals and take her white parasol to roam around, greeting everyone and enjoying nature (despite her best friend's advice to rest and her husband's disapproval).

However, she understood why Daryl was so against it in general. He was just worried about her health and safety. After all, she was now in her second trimester of pregnancy, expecting their son or daughter to come into the world in a few more months.

She loved Daryl. Deeply. And she would never question him or his decisions (well, maybe sometimes she would), but she was so tired of staying at home doing nothing for most of the day. And though Carol, Michonne, and a few others would come to visit and spend time with her when her husband was away, Y/N wanted some freedom, some independence.

God knows she would ‘bore to death’ if she had to stay in the same place doing nothing for one more day while everyone else fulfilled their roles.

As she came closer to the small town's pond, she took big strides to approach a blooming peony bush. She loved the smell of its flowers. And as she lightly bent down to sniff the sweet aroma from the round pink flowers, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of her husband, who was sitting on a bench not far from her. From afar, she could notice a worried expression on his face.

She strode slowly in his direction and placed a hand on his shoulder, greeting him with a warm and loving smile, but instead of the usual “Hey, Sunray” or “Why are ya out 'ta house alone?” she would receive, she heard him grunt.

At that, she furrowed her brows in confusion and slight concern, wanting to know what had made her husband so grumpy at early noon. “Is everything okay, Dar?” She asked in a soft, patient tone.

Daryl looked away from her, not wanting to make eye contact, and sighed in annoyance. “Everythin's fine,” he answered grumpily.

Y/N, knowing her husband and not believing that crap for a second, looked at him more seriously. “Daryl…” She called out his name, insisting he should tell her the truth.

Daryl sighed irritantly, hearing her insist, knowing she wouldn't back down. He then turned his gaze to her and unexpectedly exclaimed, “Ah said everythin's fine, dammit!”

He said this a bit too loudly, not noticing that he had snapped at her.

This action made Y/N flinch, not used to such an alert state in Daryl anymore. Now she was truly worried.

“Hey, hey, honey, it's okay... What's got you so riled up? Is work becoming too much? Or are they not listening to you? Should I go teach them a lesson?” She asked at first, even making a joke to brighten him up, but Daryl only shook his head, still not wanting to speak.

He held his head in his hands, almost in a desperate posture, making his wife worry even further. She was going to say something, but a tiny piece of cloth caught her attention. It was then that she got to see the tiny, frill-decorated bib on his right hand.

She put pieces together in her mind like a game of tetris and asked again, with more understanding tone and gentleness in her voice.

“Is it the baby?” Daryl kept quiet, but his shoulders tensed up. Y/N now knew what was ‘the main issue’, and took action immediately, slowly running her hand on his back and giving a few gentle pats to soothe her husband's worry. He looked like he was on the edge.

Daryl's gaze and body seemed to loosen up as he felt her hand on his back. He then tried to explain his concerns.

“I... Ah ain't upset, is jus'...” He trailed off, not knowing how to express his thoughts.

“It's okay, love. You don't have to tell me now if you aren't prepared. Here, let's just sit for a bit, okay? I'm starting to feel heavy again.” Y/N reassured him, not wanting him to feel pressured if he was already so altered.

She had some trouble sitting down next to him, though. Despite not being in the 3rd trimester yet, her belly heaviness seemed to be causing her discomfort when she had to sit or stand up in a rush. But she didn't mind it much; it made her happy because that was the proof of the love Daryl and she had for each other and the life growing inside her.

Daryl noticed her struggle and quickly went from being annoyed to concerned. He stood up and carefully helped Y/N sit down, making sure she was comfortable before taking a seat next to her.

“Damn, ya sure are a heavy load,” he joked. At this, Y/N dramatically gasped and faked being offended.

“Hey! I remind you, you're the one that made me heavy! ~“ She played along, jokingly shoving him to the side with a smile, trying to lighten up his mood, and succeeding brilliantly when she heard him chuckle.

“Well, sugar, if I reckon correctly, it takes two to tango to make a young'un 'round these parts,” he smirked, faking innocence at the fact he got her pregnant.

Y/N gasp-chuckled, defending herself. “But it takes you not wanting to pull out beforehand to make the baby, isn't it right, honey? ~”

She clarified softly, putting her hand on his chest, batting her eyelashes cutely at him, and getting close enough to him to make their lips graze but not touch. All in the name of teasing him.

Daryl chuckled again, feeling attracted to her playful teasing, his breath hitching slightly as her lips grazed against his own. He couldn't help but smirk; his eyes locked onto her gaze.

He gently grabbed her hips, slowly pulling her closer to him to the point of having her almost seated on his lap.

“Oh, but ah know for a fact ya wudn't complainin' at the moment, darlin',” he continued, feeling proud for his little ‘achievement’ as he caressed her thigh over the sundress.

Feeling a little braver than usual, Y/N whispered: “And how would I, when you know how to drill me in the right spot? ~”

She murmured against his lips. Her gaze never left him, and her smile only widened each time he looked down at her lips and looked back at her eyes, obviously enchanted by her charms already.

Daryl's eyes darkened with desire, and his grip on her hips tightened slightly. He felt his heart racing at her words. He pulled her closer to him until their bodies were pressed together.

“Damn, woman… Ya know I ain’t doin' this here.” He groaned softly against her lips while devouring her with his stare. They sure were the only ones at the pond around then, but despite the tall, full, and flourishing grass, bushes, and plants, they could still be easily spotted if they decided to... get loose. (😏)

“Then why do you keep pulling me closer, hm, hun? ~”

It was sort of comical to see him struggle to compose himself in this situation, making Y/N not want to miss out on teasing him to the fullest. She placed both hands on his chest and slowly arranged her position on his lap to sit and view him better.

Daryl let out a low growl as Y/N moved closer. He felt the heat rising within him, his hands roaming from her hips to her backside, gripping it firmly. His breathing becomes heavier as he looks down at Y/N.

“Yar testin' ma limits, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled innocently, enjoying the effect she had on her husband.

“I guess the preggy hormones are doing their stuff again... I feel kinda—needy,” she admitted a little sheepishly and continued with a more serene tone. “But… that will have to wait for now.”

“Now... Why don't you tell me what got you so fed up before, love?“ She questioned, changing her position once again to avoid making Daryl even more aroused.

She looked into his eyes tenderly and patiently, waiting for him to pour out his heart.

He knew they were a team now that needed trust and communication to get through everything. So she trusted he would be able to let out what was on his mind that made him so tense earlier.

Daryl took a moment to compose himself, gathering his thoughts after being so close to Y/N. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly; his grip on her loosened a bit as he leaned back on the bench.

He averted his eyes for a moment, his expression becoming heavier.

“Tis just...everythin', know what am sayin'?” He paused and looked at her belly, then back at her eyes.

“Da kid, da thought of bein' a pa... is like a whole heap to deal with, y'know?” He expressed his deepest concern about your future child.

Seeing her husband so worried brought her heartache. She sighed and wrapped her hands around his head, placing them on her chest as she made circular movements on his scalp in a slow, comforting way.

“And here I thought I was silly for feeling bad about myself and thinking I wouldn't make a good enough mom and wife, while my dear husband was here on his own, questioning his capacity to keep us safe…” She sighed again and continued. “I'm really a bad wife, huh?”

Daryl leaned into Y/N's touch, closing his eyes as she ran her hands through his hair. He sighed deeply, feeling a mix of emotions but still negating her words.

“Nah. Ya ain't a bad wife. Yar da best damn wife. Yar perfect.”

He said it softly as he tried to encourage her. His voice was filled with a hint of frustration afterwards. “Ah jus'... 'm scared I ain't gonna be a good pa. I ain't never had a good example to follow, y'know?”

Y/N knew what he was referring to. They didn't speak so often about their pasts (deciding to let them be and find a future together), but she remembered the little Daryl commented about his family life and his broken relationship with... the man that was his father.

“Whatever happened back then... doesn't determine who you are today. You chose to be different from him, to be more understanding, to wait more patiently, and to love more deeply,” she started.

“Jesus, you've been up and about everywhere looking for baby items just to be prepared when he or she comes around.”

Y/N chuckled, reflecting on all the tiny clothes, toys, and more that Daryl kept bringing back each time he went on a run since he learned Y/N was pregnant with their child. Seeing him come over to her in an excited, uncharacteristic way to show her his new finding was as amusing as endearing.

“You're nothing like him. You're you, and you're better. And I know it scares you. Damn, it scares me too.” She insisted (unnoticedly mild-cursing), knowing well who the man she fell in love with was and how much he matured and developed just by being with you and the others.

Her sudden, brittle voice indicated she was about to cry. She felt the hormones hitting her, making her feel sadder and more vulnerable than she had seconds ago. “But… sniff But I know we will be alright because... sniff because we have you, we have each other, and... sniff and that's all that matters to me, so... we will get to learn how to raise our child together. We w-will set the good example ourselves, o-okay?”

Her voice trembled at the last sentence as she grabbed a hold of his face, pressing his cheeks together to make him look over at her. Finally, she had let go of her emotions and became a teary mess, non-stop sniffing before him.

Almost used to her mood swings already, Daryl couldn't help but chuckle softly despite the seriousness of the situation, amused by the little it took to make her cry now, even if she was already quite emotional beforehand.

“Baby, yar crying... again. I swear yer hormones have been all over the place,” he stated in a playful manner, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. He then took her hands into his own, holding them gently. The difference in size and texture was kinda silly.

“Still… Yar dang right 'bout us, we're gonna stick together. I ain't never been good at all this family business, but I'll do whatev'r it takes for ya and our young'un.” Daryl promised to her lover, feeling more accepting of his new role.

“I-I can't help it... sniff the pregnancy... sniff I swear I've never been so emotional about everything before... sniff I hate it... And you know I hate swearing too…” She complained, her voice increasing in intensity as she recalled her distaste for swearing and swearing words.

“It just… It hurts me so much when sniff I see you like this... Like you'll get tired of me or sick of us, and—”

Y/N stopped herself, incapable of completing what came to mind as more tears fell. The unlooked-for thought brought a new fear to her mind: a possible future without Daryl, having to tend and care for the baby alone.

It terrified her.

Daryl's expression softened even more as he saw her tear up. Damn hormones got her all upset, and all he wanted to do was take it all away. His chest twisted in pain when she mentioned he could get tired of her, so he gently pulled her closer to him with a firm grip.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me,” he said, guiding her gaze to his by holding her chin. “Sunray, ya got nothin' to worry about, y'hear me? I ain't goin' nowhere... 'M plum crazy 'bout ya, and I ain't never leaving ya or our young'un, I promise. I ain't getting tired of you, sweetheart; yar everythin' to me.”

He confessed sweet things to her, wanting Y/N to feel the depth of his love for her.

“B-but… sniff the way you sniff yelled before…” She argued between sniffs and hiccups, being so focused on her mood that she kept forgetting to breathe properly.

“I thought I… I did something to sniff get you upset with me again, like... sniff like when sniff I misplaced your crossbow last week and you sniff wouldn't talk to me until I found it…”

She couldn't help but sob at the remembrance, making Daryl feel a pang of guilt when she mentioned his reaction earlier and last week. He had made her so hurt for not talking to her that it still poked at her. And damn, she was crying even more now. He hated seeing her like this. His little sunray was all cloudy because of him.

“Hey, come on now, sweetcheeks... I'm sorry for hollerin' at ya, ait? I was a bit... on edge, but it had nothin' to do with ya, ait? S'not nothin' to worry about.” He spoke softly as he pulled her even closer, his hand gently rubbing her back in soothing circles, just like she did to him minutes ago.

“And 'bout that crossbow, that was nothin'.”

“But... sniff you got so angry... hiccup I thought you'd hate me forever if I couldn't find it… hiccup and the thing is, you always placed it anywhere! hiccup”

Y/N protested, claiming Daryl was the one constantly dropping his weapon all over the house, but the truth was, she was actually the one changing its location.

The pregnancy sure had its shortcomings, but one of them that mostly affected Y/N was easily misplacing things because she became a lot more forgetful (possibly because of the amount of blood, nutrients, and oxygen she was losing each day to provide to her baby and help him/her keep growing healthily). So, each time she'd see the crossbow somewhere she previously placed it while doing house chores, she'd think it was Daryl who placed it there, and she'd put it somewhere else, and then she'd come across it again and place it somewhere else, over and over again.

It happened multiple times before with less meaningful things, but this was Daryl's crossbow we were talking about. When he would come back home looking for his main weapon, Daryl would find it missing, and when he would ask Y/N, she wouldn't remember where she last saw it.

After hours of scattering the whole house, she felt so silly when they finally found the crossbow inside their wardrobe. She couldn't even remember keeping it there, but... all pointed out that the pregnancy was just taking the best of her, and Daryl's stress wasn't really helping much.

Despite Daryl understanding the situation was a consequence of the pregnancy later on and trying as best as he could to make her feel better, inside her mind, she couldn't help but continue blaming herself for making him angry that day.

The silent treatment he gave her seemed to have broken her heart into two.

Daryl listened to her words, realising the severity of the case and feeling more stupid for not fully catching how much that incident had affected Y/N. Seeing her tears made his heart ache even more.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, feeling guilty for causing her so much worry, knowing she had too much on her plate already.

“Hear me out now. I ain't never gonna hate ya, y'hear? It was ma fault for bein' dang careless with where I left ma stuff. I shouldan't given ya the silent treatment; I was jus... frustrated,” he let on, taking the blame to make her feel less remorseful.

“I'm sorry... hiccup I just don't want to make you angry again…” She hiccuped once more, feeling her eyes water up for the nth time.

Daryl gently cupped her face, his calloused thumbs wiping away the tears. “Ya ain't got nothin' to apologise for, sweetheart. Believe me, I'm the one who should be apologisin' to ya.”

Daryl sighed.

“ 'm sorry for giving' ya the silent treatment. I was bein' a damn fool. Ya didn't do nothin' wrong, ait? I'll never be angry with ya for real. I swear,” he admitted.

“Really?…” she asked with a trembling voice and big puppy eyes. He looked into her hazel eyes, his gaze loving.

“Really. I promise.”

He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face; his touch was tender.

“Yar carryin' our baby, remember? Tha's the most important thang rite now. Ain't nothin' else matters more than ya and our young'un. I ain't gonna waste time bein' mad over stupid shit like lost crossbows when I gotta take care of ya,” he professed, making a second vow to himself to keep you and his future child safe.

Y/N sniffed her feelings for the last time and tried to collect herself.

“Alright…”

She placed her chin over his head and hugged his neck softly, allowing him to place his head over the beginning of her belly, giving him access to listen to the baby's little movements and her heartbeats.

“I love you, Daryl... I love you so much, I don't know what I would do without you.” She still felt somewhat emotional as she said this, but she gave it her all to avoid crying again.

Daryl wrapped his arms around Y/N while placing his head gently over her belly. He listens intently to her heartbeats, the sound of them comforting him. He momentarily turned his head to place a gentle kiss on her belly, his lips lingering for a moment as he treasured this moment.

“I love ya too, baby. Y'all and this little 'un got me wrapped around yer dang fingers. Don't know what I'd do without y'all...” He hugged her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

He caressed her cheek with his hand, his fingers lightly tracing the contour of her jawline.

He then gently rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling as they shared this intimate moment as they looked forward to whatever the future had in store for them because, if anything was sure, it was that they would do anything to stay together in love.

EXTRA:

They stayed on the pond for a while longer until Y/N said:

“I wanna have strawberries and cheese,” and Daryl looked at her like she had gone crazy.

“Berries 'n cheese? You serious?” he questioned. “It tastes good…” she whispered, defending herself.

Daryl shook his head, still not finding sense in those strange pregnancy food cravings, but he still wouldn't deny any of her cravings. If his queen wanted to eat strawberries and cheese, the man would get them for her.

“If tha' what ya want,” he answered, shrugging, making Y/N hug him, glad that he agreed on getting the'snack’ for her.

“I love you, Daryl.” “Love ya too, sweetcheeks.”

A/N: OH MY GOOD GOD, FINALLY. THIS WAS THE LONGEST I'VE EVER WRITTEN. Editing this was such a pain... But was worth it! Also, I may be planning a few more stuff for this cottagecore reader... as well as other projects of course. I think I'm gonna be super occupied now because I've got work, but I'm also planning a travel (and I wanna participate in two Daryl-related writing challenges...).

May God help me because I don't think I can help myself on this 😭 but anws, this was super endearing to write. It went through very little changes since the draft, compared to other stuff I wrote, and I did a collage image banner for it, inspired by @dixons-sunshine whenever she works on her stuff. Yeah, as you can see, all this post is focused on you hahaha, hope you had the greatest day today and I love ya lots. May God keep you for even longer and give you many more reasons to rejoice, celebrate and thank Him IJN 🥰

Now, imma retire now bc I stayed up almost all night trying to edit this... and I got work early in the morning... (seriously, this was like 12 pages on Word... 💀) See ya all around!

Thanks and God bless!~

𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

support divider from @cafekitsune, on this post

[pinovapie]

DRDT Headcanons!! (1/idk)

Decided to post some headcanons for various characters!! (there might be some mild projection on my favourites lol) idk if i'll do more for other characters?? Also, sorry for less Teruko HCs,,, i meant to do 5 for each but uh,,, you can tell who my favourites are i guess??

Also, disclaimer, these are headcanons!! I wrote these before Chap 2 Part 2, they may be disproven and become out of date in the future!!

Under a read more to not clog up space,, also TW: (unintentional) Self harm

Ace:

He grew up on a farm.

His parents had a ton of kids in the hopes that at least one would be successful. Whoever got the best test results/ won an award/ has the highest salary (based on age, idk how old Ace's siblings are) was the favourite and showered with attention.

This meant Ace and his siblings grew up willing to literally and metaphorically shove eachother face first in the mud to be the favourite child. There was a lot of sabotage, insults and threats constantly.

He struggles to form meaningful friendships due to trust issues.

He'll hold a grudge for years. He probably still despises and talks shit about some kid who stole his chair when they were 6 or something.

He used to love animals until one day he woke up and the world was more terrifying than he remembered. The comforting bark of a dog is now a horrifying sound that sends him spiraling with panic.

He's overly sensitive to light and sound.

He chews his lip, bites his nails and scratches his arms/wrists when bored or uncomfortable. Maybe that's why he always wears gloves, to do less damage?

Nico:

Sometimes when it's too much they'll go non verbal. They're fluent in sign language as a result.

They sometimes judge the things people name their pets. They'd never say it out loud but they think certain pets have really stupid names.

They struggle with tone, often coming across as sarcastic and fed up when they're being genuine.

If they get postively overwhelmed (like flustered due to compliments etc.) they make cat noises instead of speaking (like meows, chirps, etc.). They find in really embarrassing.

If they are in a downward spiral, they'll grip something (their cloak, hair, a soft toy, etc.) and just hold on to try and ground themselves.

Nico took a couple skirts from the dress-up room to wear in private.

In a non killing game au, they'd join Rose in painting more frequently. They end up preferring watercolours though.

They may have a journal where they might talk shit about certain individuals in the class.

Teruko:

Despite her trust issues and bad luck with relationships, she's a romantic at heart. It may take a while for her to admit her feelings but she'd like someone to give her flowers and take her to dinner just as much as anyone else.

She likes horror films because she can experience the thrill without being in danger. I think she'd also like those rollar coaster simulators since an actual rollar coaster would probably be too dangerous with her luck.

She loves sliced cheese because she can avoid having to cut cheese with a knife. Similarly, she'll spread spreads with a spoon because it's less risking than with a knife.

Due to constantly moving, she owned a couple of those plastic picnic sets (the plate, bowl, cup sets) and had to wash them frequently. As a result she's secretly super grateful to Hu and Eden for cleaning after meals because it's one less thing to worry about.

She had to remind Charles to seperate his dark and light washing a couple times, even after the initial explanation of washing machines.

Levi:

He's on the Asexual spectrum. Like he'd never consider it himself but if his partner wanted to, he'd be comfortable with it because he likes making his partner happy.

He's usually trying to keep the peace but he will argue with friends or customers if they try to pick/buy a god awful outfit.

He worked at a boutique before becoming a personal stylist. He kept giving customers unwanted fashion advice that made their outfits the talk of the town. Word spread and after a little while people started showing up for the advice.

Does not understand humour or sarcasm at all.

He's fond of baby animals but would never hold one out of fear of hurting it.

In a non killing game au, he'd probably find out peoples fashion preferences so he can get them suitable clothes as presents.

He's probably the only cast member to politely listen to Veronika's rambles without wanting to throw up. He'd probably get roped into movie nights after Arturo and Ace triple locked their doors to avoid such movie nights.

Various people have caught him raiding sweet foods (sometimes even just eating sugar straight out the bag) at like 3am on multiple occasions.

[py-dreamer]

Whee!!!! Not totally at midnight this time!!

But yes, here's freenoodles as promised and they were meant to go before Nezha but ehh, things didn't turn out as planned and here they are!

Idk what kinda cake this is. Probably like a strawberry or red currant cake with like a cookie base on the bottom similar to a cheesecake with chocolate ganache and like a strawberry or raspberry jam in the middle (y'know, since it's 'tangy'?) since I couldn't really think of many fruits to associate with our favorite chef-scholar couple and I wanted to try a new sort of cake.

Though later on I decided on lemons since they look like cicada wings to me and also are sour but can be tangy and sweet when you get used to it. (like a culinary pig we know >u')

Not much to say about the cookies, same old, same old. Thankfully Pigsy's noodles was a canon brand so I could use it's logo.

To add some 'Tanginess' I added the basket of scrolls especially since I found I prefer to have a swoopy thing up top over the characters (ie dragon with Mei, armillary sash with Nezha ect) so I just did a floating open scroll which, fun fact:

says '7 days till my birthday'! or at least I meant it to if it weren't so smudged

Other than the lemon, since I had no fruits and wanted to give the cake more pizzazz, I added the lil cicadas and I think they look pretty dang cute! Much cuter than the balloon at least

Speaking of the balloon! Since we have 2 characters we get 2 balloons and I'm pretty happy with them! Pigsy one in particular since I saw nezuko's art with like a bunny balloon and I thought it'd be really cute to do the same here!

Of course the staff and 9 toothed rake, I did count the teeth on there and that is Zhu Bajie's hat thanks for noticing!

The ribbon thing I normally have in the other cakes is another one of Tang's scrolls! And pls don't come for me for the gibberish on them I referenced a canon thing with tripitaka opening the scrolls and just copied from there

Also, bottom left corner, that's tang's glasses (probably spares) and Pigsy's festival/performance glasses from the city of lanterns. Just a cute detail lol.

Why did I use both freenoodles instead of giving Tang and Pigsy their individual cakes? Idk it's more fun like this.

Also cause I figured I'd have more fun and ease picking the best of both worlds for 1 cake rather than struggle to think of decorations for both of them.

Also doing them as a pair frees up one more slot for another character so whee! more content!

(more work for me but that's what I get I suppose...)

But fun fact! (And a bit of spoilers...) These two are the only characters in a pair to share a cake. Now you might think it's cause I'm being unfair and robbing them of their individuality but no!

It's cause they old and married, let them be happy together!

But yea I think they turned out cute enough! Tang just landed in his husband's lap and Pigsy is just as confused as Tangy lol

(Also I haven't watched s5 don't smack me if I miss details but feel free to spoil me lol I don't mind)

[spaceorphan18]

I just have some thoughts and, I just... they're just thoughts with zero intention of being inflammatory or derogatory. (I do respect all the other ships on the show, enjoy Kanthany and am looking forward to Benedict/Sophie, and am slightly annoyed I even have to have a disclaimer, my god fandom, sometimes...)

I think that in one way that Bridgerton, as a show, struggles a little (and I suppose I mean struggle loosely) is that it's chaffing between wanting to be (what is essentially) an anthology show vs a regular TV show where the characters are developed long term.

I think Simon and Daphne's story works within season 1. But like the book(s), it's a self-contained story that isn't intended to go beyond the happily ever after other than a cameo here and there. (I do hope Daphne comes back eventually to cameo, it's a shame she wasn't in season 3.) But their story isn't meant to go anywhere else.

Anthony and Kate is the most awkward story at the moment. Anthony is one of the few well rounded characters in the book, as he's the head of the household and in most of the books. And Anthony and Kate having to run the household feels a little like a missed opportunity to be developed on the show. Now -- I know it's because Jonathan Bailey is becoming hugely successful actor -- and the original premise of the show is supposed to be self-contained stories. But it's a shame, because I think Anthony and Kate have so much potential for good stories to tell, and I have a feeling they won't be.

The thing about Pen and Colin, though, is that they haven't been treated like the anthology format the two previous couples got. Their story has been treated in a more traditional, long-form tv style, in which the characters have grown and developed, and so Season 3 was their spotlight, but we've past that and... I still think they'll be getting a considerable amount of screen time in Season 4. (Obviously, not as much as Season 3 - and I hope people don't get their expectations up too much). But look at how much they both got to do in Season 1 and 2. It's A LOT. And Season 4 will probably be on par with that.

I'm super curious as to where we go from here. Season 4 kind of has its expected trajectory, and I can pretty much guess what we're in for (and am looking forward to it!)

But what happens after? Do Benedict and Sophie now fade into the background completely? What are we doing with Anthony now - which is still rich in possibility? Pen and Colin's story probably will wrap up (in a way) in Season 4 -- where do their individual arcs go, or will the by pushed back?

[And, as an aside that I don't really want to make -- if Nicola wanted to get off the ride, after Season 4 would be a good place to do it. I guess that depends on whether or not she becomes the next Jonathan Bailey -- and as much as I would love that for her as an actress, the Pen fan in me's heart would hurt]

And if you don't have these subplots in future seasons, what do we have? Neither Eloise's book or Francesca's book really have any sideplots (Francesca's especially) -- and yet you have all of these characters. I know they want to develop Gregory and Hyacinth more, but idk idk.

But I guess, back to my original point -- the further we go on, the less the anthology style works because we've started spending A LOT of time with these characters. I think the central romances will, for the most part, be fine, but the subplots and the previous couples and the long standing characters -- what does the show do?

I don't have answers, I'm mostly thinking out loud....

That all said - I really, really hope they get to Gregory and Hyacinth's books -- because I think there's potential for a lot of fun to be had in them. (I personally like them way more than Eloise and Francesca's books, so at least Netflix has one long term fan...)

[thrilling-oneway]

Really good and well detailed thread on twitter about the queer coding of some characters, took a couple of hours for discourse to start on Rui. Why is the discussion of queer coding so bad around Rui? Is it people who ship him with the girls feeling threatened about the idea of queer coding that would imply he might be gay? Or is it something else?

I think I saw that thread a few hours ago! Assuming we're thinking of the same one that would make it the second or third time that user specifically has talked about Rui being gay coded & had discourse start on their post. This fandom is insane.

As far as I'm aware it is casued by shipping. Literally every time I've seen someone try to make a thread about his gay coding it primarily jumped on by people saying "X m/f rui ship is better". Alternatively people tend to pick on stereotypes even if they are valid. Individually some of it could be written of as "he's just like that", but it kinda piles up and up and it's kinda obvious imo he is meant to be gay coded.

Also on tvtropes when I added on the gay subtext page a list of evidence pointing to why he might be gay someone nuked the entire paragraph with the reason "lack of attraction to women does not imply that he's gay". Shout out to that person. I added it on his character page instead and it hasn't been removed yet so so far so good.

Yeah I think it largely just comes down to kids being upset that it doesn't fit with their ships. I think it comes down to a moral thought process of "I should not ship the implied gay character with women" -> "therefore he is not gay". If not it's just plain ignorance. Idk. This fandom is really weird about it.

I've made a lot of posts about it in the past (around september last year i think) with how this fandom has begun to treat. literally anything queer. Due to how centered this fandom is on shipping and the overwhelming popularity of m/m and f/f ships over m/f, there are a small (i hope) group of teenage prsk fans who seem to genuinely think that they are in some way oppressed for liking m/f ships, and then accusing people of biphobia for not liking m/f or saying that a character is implied to be exclusively gay/lesbian.

It's an incredibly fascinating phenomenon that somehow a group of kids have convinced themselves heterophobia is real (except they label it as biphobia idfk dude) and that m/f ships are somehow oppressed. This is summed up well by the akian card edit discourse over the last couple days that I don't want to explain.

Also it's weird that by a lot of the fandom bi headcanons are treated like straight plus. Why do you only use bi hcs for the characters you put in hetships. Why not the characters you ship slash/femslash. Why is "bi people exist" an excuse to try and prove your hetship has some sort of canonical validity. Have you thought about that.

Oh yeah this was about Rui. Rui's implied gay and this fandom can't handle it because they want to ship him with women (i don't think anyone is stopping them but whatever, this fandom has a weird desire for their ships to be the ones implied in canon or at least possible to happen in canon)

[possibilistfanfiction]

Hey there! Just wanted to let you know that I love your writing. I love the universe you've created for ava and beatrice. I could have said Avatrice but the thing is you write them so beautifully as individuals, all their triumphs and losses, that it doesn't feel right not to acknowledge them as they are on their own as much as they are as a couple. Anyway! I pretty much have bookmarked all your work and I keep suggesting your fics on Twitter, I'm pretty much your unofficial publicist at this point, proudly so 😆

I just finished the multitude of loving and once again you made me laugh and smile and cry and you made my heart warm and for a while, my depression didn't feel as debilitating. So thank you. I don't know what you're gonna write next whenever inspiration strikes, but if you ever do another outside pov, would you mind writing one from Diego's? I guess I'm biased because aside from your fics, I've been obsessed with do a flip by sunsafe and it warms my heart to see Diego in fics because well, I think it's safe to say that he was the one who loved ava first, he was there by her bedside and all and so it would be lovely, to know how he feels and thinks about ava and beatrice, after all the years of living his own life, after all the years wishing to see his sister, his best friend, his... Ava, because there's no traditional title that really fits them, after all the years wishing that ava is okay and... Alive, more than just surviving because even when he was a child he knew, ava was meant for such a bright and grand life, just because she was all that herself.

Anyway, just an idea, of course. My rambling is not in any way meant to pressure you into writing it 😆😅 I hope you're having a good day wherever you are. Cheers!

[first of all i love do a flip!!!! 100/10 recommend if anyone hasn't read it!!

anyway, here's a little diego pov in the butch bea universe. he's like 18 or 19? idk. yknow just roll w it :) ]

//

university is busy as hell, and it's cool that they pay for your doctor's appointments and, when you actually started getting the care you needed, you were able to do basically everything in the normal, big wide world with regular meds and check-ins — but mostly you just want to play rugby and flirt with girls (not well, but you're 18 and always kind, so who cares your success rate) and pass all of your classes. when you got adopted it had seemed like a miracle, and so you don't take any of this time for granted — not the bright sun or the grass stains on your knees or how rachel plays with your hair when you hang out in her dorm.

you don't think much of it when you get a random email from beatrice gu-knight, partially because emails are a pain in the ass and partially because nico brought over a six pack of stellas and his nintendo switch — you're the mario kart champion, undisputed — but, in the morning, when you open your phone, you think your heart might stop in your chest.

Hello Diego,

I hope you're well. I know it might seem strange to get an email like this from someone you don't know and have never even heard of, and, if you don't wish to follow up or connect, please just let me know, and that will be the end of it.

But, in the hopeful chance that you do: my name is Beatrice (she/her), and I'm reaching out to you because Ava Silva is my life partner. We've been together for a few years now and she talks of you often, and fondly; I know from her stories you were an extraordinarily joyful and sustaining part of her life at St. Michael's, and, if nothing else, I hope you understand my deep gratitude for that. I work in tech, so I was able to find this email address for you in the hopes that you might want to reconnect with Ava. We live in Los Angeles, and she's, as I'm sure you remember, wonderful. Maybe even more wonderful now, as I hope you are too.

Again, if you are at all uncomfortable, please feel no pressure to engage in any way; I won't let Ava know, so don't worry about that. If you would like to reconnect, though, you can respond to this email, or call or text me at my cell listed below. Thank you.

Warmest regards,

Beatrice

it takes you a few seconds to get it together, because, what the fuck, first of all. second of all, ava — one of your favorite people ever, and someone you miss every day. who apparently has a very proper and seemingly kind partner named beatrice, and lives in california. ava is alive, and probably really happy. the last time you saw her she was scared and upset and you had thought she died before that. you had thought you would never see her again.

Hey, this is Diego, you text the number on Beatrice's email. you think about the time difference, and, sorry if it's the middle of the night for you

it takes a minute or two, but then your phone vibrates. Diego, wonderful to hear from you! I'm glad my email wasn't too intense.

and, like, maybe it was a little, but your calc III professor is a fucking nutcase, so you kind of have a high bar.

Ava works late sometimes, so don't worry about the time difference right now

it's sweet, you think, that beatrice doesn't work late, or, whatever, maybe she does, but she's up because ava is awake. because ava will be coming home, or finishing up in an office. you wonder about their life, what their home looks like and if ava's laugh is still just as awesome. and, like, what is ava's job? is she still paralyzed, or can she walk like she had the last time you saw her? you're glad for her, honestly, that her partner is a girl, because ava thought boys were hot but also seemed to like girls more — so, like, how did they fall in love? it's funny to imagine ava as a grownup, with a partner and a home and a whole life, but it's also the best.

do you want to facetime tomorrow or something, you text, because you don't really know what else to say, but you want to find out: about your sister, and the life she's apparently built. you think — if ava is anything like how she had been when you were younger — you definitely want to be in it.

I would love that, beatrice responds immediately. you work out the details and, eventually, you go to class and try to have a normal day. but ava is out there, happy, in california, with a partner who clearly cares about her. it feels like a gift, even to know. it feels like a gift, to get to be in her warmth again.

/

beatrice, when you answer the facetime call at exactly the second the clock hits 7 pm your time, is beautiful. it doesn't surprise you, not really, because you remember ava being pretty, and, even more than that, fucking awesome. beatrice is younger than what you think someone with that formal a name would be, with short dark hair that flops into her eyes, which are kind of gold in the light through the window of whatever room she's in. 'hello, diego,' she says, and, yeah, ava probably loves that accent.

it makes you laugh, but, like, in a nice way, to know that ava has a whole partner. a whole entire person who shares a life with her, who helps her with stuff and — beatrice is a saint for this — laughs at her puns.

'hey,' you say, feel awkward and a little sloppy in the face of the chic big oil painting behind her, the hoodie you know is expensive because your friend artur had had it marked on his stockx for, like, months now. 'uh, i'm diego. nice to meet you.'

beatrice smiles, and you see her freckles, and you realize, in a flash, a truth you know implicitly — that ava loves this person. ava picked this person to spend her life with. the world is cruel, you know better than most, but the world is also so, so kind.

'i'm so happy you responded to my email,' she says, less formal and with a slight laugh, mostly with joy. 'ava is the best, and i know that — she misses you. she loves you, a lot. i've always wanted to meet you.' you kind of don't know what to say, and you're relieved when she shakes her head. 'sorry, i'm being a lot again. believe it or not, this is my first rodeo with something like this.'

first rodeo sounds foreign from her, and it inexplicably makes you laugh. 'you're doing fine.' you realize that beatrice is just as nervous as you are, maybe even more: she loves ava. she has a whole life with ava. 'i — does ava want to talk to me?'

'i haven't told her yet. i wanted to see how you felt first, without any pressure, and i didn't want her to feel disappointed. but i know she will be... overjoyed, to have you in her life again, if you want.'

'yeah.' you think of ava's jokes and how full of life she was, even when she didn't have access to much of it herself. you think about the clumsy drawings you had made her, and how happy she was every time she got to go outside in her wheelchair. 'i do, want that. a lot.'

beatrice's smile is relieved and grateful. 'i can talk to her, then, and then maybe you two can set up a video chat? i know she'll be beside herself with excitement.'

'yeah,' you say, and you can't help but smile looking forward to it. it doesn't sound like ava's changed much, in the good ways, which is super cool. 'i'm excited too.'

/

your palms are clammy and you feel like you might throw up, but beatrice had sent you a link to a zoom and asked if the evening worked for you; you're so thrilled but also, like, what if ava doesn't like you anymore? what if she's way way cooler than you, or too grown up, or just bored by your life? it had been one thing, to lose her when you were young and confused, to have to grieve her absence so obliquely — but it would be an entirely different thing now, to know she's alive and has a life of her own and just doesn't want you in it. you don't really know how you would handle that. ava was your friend and ava was your sister, in the ways that really matter.

but, you realize very quickly, all of your anxiety was for nothing, because ava's face pops on screen — older, and her hair is shorter, and there are slight laugh lines settling into the skin around her eyes, but she mostly looks the same — and her smile is so warm and then she starts to cry and laugh and, yeah. if you do too, it's fine. no one else is in your dorm room anyway.

'hey,' she says, the first to get any words out. she's sitting up, and she waves, and you feel like you're seeing a real life miracle, right there on your computer screen. 'you look so old. i really missed you.'

'you look so old too.' she grins. 'i really missed you.'

it's a little stilted at first, probably because you're both overwhelmed, but then it's just... the fucking best. ava is a bartender, 'mostly for fun,' she says, which, whatever that means, and she still loves the beach. they apparently have a house right by the water. she starts crying again when you tell her you got adopted, that you're not so sick anymore because you have good doctors and caring parents, that you're in school to become an accountant.

'the family business?' she says, choked up, after you tell her that your adoptive mom is one too, and that she wanted you to be able to take over one day if you were interested.

it's as unbelievable to you some days as it seems to her, on bright mornings or when you get to go skiing in the cold snow, when your friends pass around a joint or when you get to go to a museum, whenever you want. 'yeah,' you say —  a family; you learn ava has one too. 'it's pretty incredible.'

/

'holy shit, ava.'

she just laughs, letting you go in front of her into her house. well, her and beatrice's house, you guess. you'd facetimed and texted a bunch with ava in the past two months, so you had figured out they were kinda loaded, and they'd both picked you up from the airport in a very sleek, fancy volvo, but, like —

'this is nuts.'

you think you might immediately cry again when you notice, right away, how there's not a single part of the house you can see that isn't accessible for someone in a wheelchair. ava had told you that she can walk but some days has a lot of pain and a hard time with mobility, and that beatrice was awesome and she had a good chair and even a van and a service dog, but you never could've imagined this. their house is huge and beautiful, like something you'd see in an AD tour you like to watch when you're stoned. ava has a cane today, and beatrice trundles in with your bag — she had insisted, quietly, but with a look that told you it would be totally pointless to argue.

'your house is awesome,' you say, to both of them.

beatrice smiles gently. 'we redid it last year, for accessibility. i think it turned out great.'

'wanna see the best part?' ava says, using her cane to bounce a little on the balls of her feet and you have to clear your throat because you had known her for so long. you had loved her for so long, your best friend in the entire world, who was smart and funny and bursting at the seams to feel it all, to really get to live.

'dude,' you say, 'of course.'

'i'm going to put your bag in your room,' beatrice says. 'and then i have a work call. but i should be done after the hour, for whatever you'd like to do, if you want me to join.'

'of course we want you to join,' ava says, and beatrice blushes and then gathers herself and kisses the top of ava's head before she offers you a thumbs up — nerdy, and it makes ava snort — and then lifts your bag like it weighs two pounds or something. 'love of my life,' ava says. 'definitely doesn't have a work call, but she's been stressed all week about making sure she gives us time to ourselves but doesn't seem aloof. huge weirdo.'

'she's hot.'

'ew, diego.'

you shrug. 'all i'm saying is that, like, i get it. not for me, because she's, like, super gay, but you know. for you.' you take a breath. 'sorry, i'm just excited.'

ava laughs. 'bea is super gay, it's true.' she points to a button on the wall nearby and then floor to ceiling glass doors that separate the living space from the patio. 'now, check this out.'

it's pretty fucking wild that ava went from the horrible orphanage, and tons of abuse that you were too small and too weak and too scared to stop, to a whole house that opens up to a day bed and an outdoor kitchen and dining area and a hot tub, a small patch of grass, and then the sea behind — but in the best kind of way. the kind of way that makes you want to tell everyone you meet that things can get better. that good things will happen to good people, at least sometimes. at least ava, who is the best of all of them.

ava motions for you to come with and walks outside, and then it's, like, genuinely the best thing ever when a black and white dog — korra, who ava sends you pictures of all the time and has featured in multiple zoom calls — who was napping in the sun, perks her head up and you swear she, like, dog-smiles at ava. 'hi, good girl,' ava says, and then claps her hands once and korra obediently, and happily, comes to ava's right side and sits, leans her little head against ava's thigh.

'i can't spend this entire time crying,' you say, and ava laughs. 'can i say hi?'

'of course,' she says. 'she's not usually formally working at home, unless i'm having a really bad day. which, you know, i'm not, but they do happen sometimes.' she shrugs and you kneel down in the sun and pet korra's soft ears as she nuzzles your face.

'she's so cool,' you say, and then kiss the top of her head and her nose. 'hey korra! i'm your uncle, i guess?'

'yeah! uncle diego.'

it makes you beam, to sit on the patio with ava as she shows you some of the tasks korra has been trained to do, and tells you about her bar you'll go to later, and points toward their outdoor shower with a sly smile. you do her the courtesy of fake gagging, although you really are just mostly happy for her, with her partner and her dog and a house that was built just for her.

eventually, beatrice comes outside, carrying a very intense charcuterie board. she places it down on the day bed, between you and ava, korra happily snoozing at your feet.

‘hi baby,’ ava says and scoots closer to you, then tugs on beatrice’s hand until she sits. ava kisses her temple. ‘this is very extravagant.’

‘well, we have a guest,’ beatrice says. ‘there’s wine inside, if you’d like a glass.’

‘i know nothing about wine,’ you admit, ‘but if there’s one you think… pairs? well with, you know —‘ you gesture to the elegantly laid out spread of food in front of you — ‘then i’ll trust you and go with that.’

ava grins. ‘yes, beatrice. be our resident sommelier, please.’

beatrice rolls her eyes, again with a blush, but then stands, ignoring ava’s pout. ‘i’ll be right back.’

‘she’s, like, really nice.’

ava lays back with a grin. ‘well she’s on her i was raised by diplomats and nannies most proper behavior right now. i don’t get charcuterie boards like this… ever.’ she takes a bite of cheese. ‘but bea is wonderful. she’s brilliant and funny and so, so kind. she’ll loosen up. i’m really excited you get to spend time with her.’

‘i’m thankful she reached out. i — i’m so happy to be here, and to see you.’

‘me too, my dude.’

beatrice comes back out with fancy real crystal glasses and a bottle of wine she explains is a vintage napa chardonnay, which mostly just makes you think it’s expensive. it probably is, with the way she efficiently uncorks it — ava practically drools, annoying, and you elbow her in the ribs — but it’s, like, really good. at least compared to the cheap wine you sometimes have with your friends when you order greek food.

‘diego,’ beatrice says, measured and anxious and, if ava’s stupid expression is anything to go by, endearing, ‘as you know, i like to surf. although it’s quite early, i was wondering if you might like to join me tomorrow? one of my best friends is an excellent instructor and the wave report looks ideally calm. ava thought you might be interested, if you’d like to learn?’

‘yeah,’ you say. ‘of course. that sounds sick.’

beatrice grins, relaxing a little. ava squeezes her hand. ‘i find it quite fun. it can be hard at first, but it’s nice to be in the water.’

‘diego gets his astounding athletic ability from my side of the family,’ ava says, patting you on the knee.

‘your side of the family?’ beatrice arches a brow.

‘yeah, the orphan side,’ you say, an old joke coming back to you, and ava gives you a high five.

‘i —‘

‘don’t think about it too hard, beatrice. diego also gets his bisexuality from my side of the family too.’

‘now that i’m willing to believe.’

ava winks at you, and then settles back into beatrice’s side.

/

admittedly, you're exhausted, so the mezcal margarita — smoky and just the right amount of sour — is hitting harder than you thought.

'okay,' ava says, 'boys are easy to flirt with.'

beatrice rolls her eyes.

'they are, bea,' she insists, then looks to you. 'sorry, diego, but boys are just... simple. they see someone hot, especially me, and there's, like, no thoughts.'

you think of the way luis had kissed you one night at a party — with his strong hands and his strong jaw and the rough, delicious scratch of his beard — after you'd just offered him a drink politely, so. honestly, that tracks.

'girls, though, diego.'

you laugh.

'you know, people who aren't men.'

'yeah, of course.'

'difficult. i just — whew.'

'aren't you, like, basically married?'

'well, yes, we're domestic partners. but beatrice is horrible at flirting. she's just lucky she's brilliant, and beautiful, and handsome, and funny.'

beatrice rolls her eyes again, although a blush spreads across her cheeks. 'i think i have more women try to flirt with me than you.'

ava huffs. 'that's because you're just — ugh.' she turns toward you. 'bea has grown into being a lesbian magnet. i once was superior. plus, boys flirt with me too.' she claps you on the back. 'either way, between the two of us, we'll teach you everything you need to know.'

'they won't,' one of their friends says, sliding in next to beatrice, who smiles and kisses him on the cheek. he's maybe the hottest person you've ever seen, with tattoos down both arms and a neat fade, probably a few years older than beatrice. 'i'm keiko,' he says, and offers his hand. his handshake is so strong and you feel yourself blush. 'i own the dojo beatrice goes to.'

'my favorite sparring partner,' beatrice says. 'partially because i have never lost.'

keiko waves her off.

'uh, i'm diego.'

ava laughs, delightedly, at how flustered you clearly are.

'well, if you want advice on boys, i am quite successful.'

'i'm sure you are.'

ava gives you a high five, mortifyingly. 'that's my man.'

'i'm cutting both of you off,' beatrice says.

'one shot, bea, please. come on. all we have to do is walk home.'

beatrice sighs dramatically and runs a hand through her hair, and keiko nudges her in the shoulder. 'for once in your life, beatrice, have a little fun.'

it takes a moment, but she laughs. 'fine. one shot, and then home.'

/

you surf the next morning, early as fuck, but you’re kind of jetlagged anyway and it’s really beautiful to watch the sunrise while you rest on a board. you haven’t popped up and you got tired pretty fast, but beatrice’s friend, ray — and beatrice herself, obviously — are patient and relaxed and don’t seem to care at all.  ava wanders out eventually, setting out a towel and drinking a to-go cup of coffee. she waves happily and blows a kiss in beatrice’s direction, who blushes. it had made you laugh, quietly, when she had put a special bucket hat designed for surfing on after she situated her wetsuit.

‘i don’t want to get sunburned,’ she explained, and then handed you a bottle of spf 100 sunscreen and a zinc stick.

eventually you ride a wave in on your knees, laughing, and then go sit by ava while you watch ray and beatrice and the rest of their little crew surf the next set, bigger on the outer break. you can tell beatrice shows off, for ava and, maybe a bit, for you. it's still early, and ava's happy to sit back in the easy quiet.

'hey,' you say after a while, during a break in sets, 'so, beatrice introduced me this morning as "ava's little brother".'

she turns to you, studies your features carefully, just like she always would when you were in the orphanage, trying to pay close attention. 'did that feel okay?'

'other than the fact that i'm taller than you —'

'— hey —'

'— of course,' you say. 'i love being your brother.'

ava scoots closer to you and bumps your shoulder with hers; you have your wetsuit down around your waist and she has one of beatrice's hoodies on, but you've mostly dried off by this point so you put your arm around her shoulders and tug her to you.

'do you, uh. sister? sibling?'

ava smiles. 'either is great.'

'okay.'

'thanks, diego.'

'nothing to thank me for there. i should be thanking you, honestly. all expenses paid trip to a bougie beach house in california to see someone i've missed so much? the dream.'

she sniffles. you don't know all the details but you know ava has been through some real shit after she — came back to life, you guess? 'i missed you too, so so much.' she clears her throat and wipes under her eyes. 'in the spirit of being your cool older sibling, what mild to moderately wild things do you want to do here. i don't want your parents to be mad at me so consider wisely.'

'tattoo.'

'do you have anything planned that you would want?'

'well, no.'

ava laughs.

'what? beatrice has cool tattoos.'

'she is a staunch believer that you should plan your tattoos in advance. but think of something and then next time we'll get you all set up with her artist, if you want.'

there's a level of maturity and care that's a little unexpected but, like, really cool? really nice. it's kind of weird and makes you a bit emotional, because ava is grown up. she's still an idiot, and constantly annoying, and very funny — but she's gotten to get older, and so have you.

'we could dye our hair,' she says, shrugging. 'easy to rectify, if it's a disaster.'

'i'm so in, man.' your hair is darker than hers, and you have no idea if she knows what she's doing, but you trust beatrice — with her neat hair and neat house and neat clothes and seemingly undying love for ava — to monitor the situation.

'maybe we can do the bi flag.'

it makes you laugh, imagining how silly it would look. 'what about just purple? like, a light purple situation.'

'i've done that before,' she tells you excitedly. 'loved it. definitely time to return.'

'deal. also, i want to try california weed.'

ava grins. 'we would have let you last night, you know, but you were actively falling asleep at the bar after one cocktail.'

'it's the time difference, i swear.'

'sure it is.'

'well, bea loves her edibles. she's very particular about them. i'm... much less particular about joints, but we can start off chill. maybe this afternoon. and then we can have tacos.'

'that sounds like a perfect day.'

she smiles. 'yeah,' she says. 'even more perfect because i get to share it with you.'

'gross,' you say, although you might suddenly cry. 'sappy.'

'yeah, yeah. whatever.'

you keep your arm around ava's shoulders and watch beatrice and ray trade tricks the next set, and then they both call it and walk, laughing, toward you. ava struggles to stand with a frown, and you offer your arm for her to take if she wants. she does, smiles quickly in thanks and then, you know too, moves on without a word. she kisses beatrice soundly on the mouth, then pushes her goofy bucket hat off her head, fastened around her neck and resting on the back of her shoulders, and then gratuitously unzips her wetsuit while ray rolls her eyes.

it's a whole big world, you learn more and more every day. ray joins you for breakfast and then ava takes you shopping while you're pretty sure beatrice just naps. ava uses her chair and brings korra, which is mostly just the coolest thing in the world to you, because she has a whole van customized too, and she just — you had known, when you were younger, when ava would get to go outside in her chair, that nothing was limiting her other than care, and access. you had been limited too, and you ached with it. you ache differently now, because ava navigates her day fully and independently: a wheelchair lift for the stairs, and a huge, beautiful closet and kitchen where she can reach everything without having to stand, and korra, who can turn on lights and open doors and brings you a juice from the fridge when you sit down and mention you're thirsty; ava grins with the command and then praises korra, and you scratch her soft head and even softer ears.

beatrice does supervise when you and ava dye your hair, but ava mostly knows what she's doing, and really gets distracted the most when she looks over at beatrice in lowslung joggers and a cutoff tank and a beanie, leaning against the doorframe quietly, a fond expression on her face. ava wears crop tops and wideleg pants and expensive sneakers and you both end up laughing when you have your matching lavender hair.

you eat edibles that make everything feel lush and slow and perfect, and beatrice laughs softly at ava's ramble about her arms, and she orders a ton of her favorite chinese food that you eat on the patio at sunset. you take some pictures on your film camera, at sunset, and beatrice takes a few of you and ava. you wish you could go back in time and tell both of you, when you were small and sad and scared and abused, that things would be this beautiful one day. that things would be this good.

ava and beatrice eventually say goodnight before they head inside to their bedroom. there's too much light pollution in los angeles to see many of the stars, but you know they're there all the same.

[teddypickerry]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !

pairings! jess mariano x female reader

word count! 1.4k

warnings! swearing

a/n! it’s been a minute. hope everyone had a decent holiday and didn’t have to be stuck in a room with their sucky family too long lmao. don’t forget requests are open, and i’m aliveeee. this was actually a request from a few months ago but i accidentally deleted it or something so idk i can’t find it now. so i’m sorry person who requested!!

THE WIND WHISTLED throughout the chilly morning, entering the wooden apartment building with ease. As if it had been waiting all morning to do so. An escape indoors when a purple coated man with funky boots opened the bright red door, holding it with his mittens. The girl stepped in behind him a soft 'thank you' with a warm smile releasing from her mouth.

The building was inevitably cold. The winter months didn't allow any other way. So the few who mingled throughout the lobby, sprawled out on the mismatched couches, were bundled. You recognized them as the Williams family. A pair of older adults with their one son. Their heater had broken individually in their apartment leaving them stuck to the lobby for warmth. The mother was sure to greet you with a smile, one you mirrored with a quick 'hello.' You had already offered your company to them the evening before. When your boyfriend and you had come home from the bookstore.

The couple had politely awarded your generosity with a hug but declined the offer. You had gifted them a blanket or two along with one of the books for the son, who seemed bored out of his mind. So it warmed your heart to catch the teenager sat on the floor with the novel in his hands. This was one of the moments that Jess Mariano; the love of your life, had fallen even more deeply in love with you. It was only a few weeks ago you had moved to the city. The past nineteen years of your life had been spent in the small town of Stars Hollow, Connecticut. The town where you so luckily met your boyfriend two and a half years ago.

You hardly knew the people in the lobby who seemed fairly upset but you offered your kindness to them. Something most wouldn't do. You trusted people and you trusted your heart. Which is something Jess Mariano never had the taste for. He had spent his whole life searching for warmth. Being raised by a mother who didn't know him from the next and preferred the men she met on the streets over him — left him with no real resemblance of what a true kind person in your life meant. When he was seventeen he was shipped from his mother's home (which lacked any home truly) to the small town.

Living with his Uncle Luke he rebelled immensely. That's what he knew how to do. Stars Hollow was also where he met Rory Gilmore. The girl whom he assumed would change all in his mind. She was pretty and incredibly bright. They had similar book tastes and both trashed the same musicians. But they were never on the same step. Always one step forward, and three steps back. So the short lived relationship was ended quicker than it had arrived. And that's when his love for you blossomed.

You made your way up the flight of stairs that you had made so familiar with these past few weeks. Fumbling with your keys, and your schoolbooks to unlock the door down the hall. The tiring day of academics that started far too early for your liking was finally coming to an end. There was nothing more you preferred to do than run inside and fall asleep in your warm bed. New York University was harder than you had imagined. But delightful in more ways than one.

When you had been accepted just a year ago, right after you started dating the dark haired boy who had won over your heart, you didn't have the money to move your life (and your love) to the city. So after yet another year with your boyfriend in Stars Hollow — and saving up as much as you could, the two of you could comfortably afford an apartment in Brooklyn. One that was the perfect little home for the both of you.

The door opened, the keys jingling in the process. The sound of a Billy Squier record engulfed your ears immediately. Your boyfriend's adequate yet varying taste in music was always something to adore. You could hear the record stop, and footsteps make their way over towards the machine. It was only seconds later another song sounded. The classic rock filling the home.

Dropping your books and bag on the kitchen counter, you took off your shoes and made your way quietly into the small living room. Where the sight of records, CDs, and books sprawled out all over the ugly green carpet surprised you. Hardly any walking space anywhere. But spotted directly infront of the built-ins was the man who had your heart. His messy dark hair sprawled all over his head as it faced the wall, his back the only part you could see. He sported a jean jacket over his blue t-shirt and black sweats. Which you could only assume was because of the weather. A stack of books held in one of his hands while the other attempted to place them on the shelves.

"Woah was there a tornado? I didn't feel it." You had joked, a small smile appearing on your lips as you watched your boyfriend's head spin around. Attempting to not drop the pile of books in the process. A goofy grin was quick to appear on his face, turning his head back to face the shelves. "Hey, how was it?"

"Um... I mean," You paused with the shrug of your shoulders despite knowing the curly haired boy wouldn't be able to see. Making your way towards the boy, making sure to not knock over each pile or box of things. "It was hard that's for sure. But worth it. I'm glad I'm here and thank you for coming with me."

"Hey, cmon no need for that shit. I'd never leave my girlfriend in a city by herself. Plus what's Stars Hollow without Y/N Y/L/N? It's just bullshit," Jess simply spoke as you made your way up behind him, your hand approaching the small of his back. "So what are you trying to do?"

"Trying to go for a Martha Stewart vibe," He humored placing the last book on the shelf before wrapping one of his arms around you. "Books on this side and I'll get another shelf for our bedroom. Then your records here, mine here, and our CDs there. And a worship lair for Kathy Griffin right here."

"Hm," you hummed as your smile poked out at his last sentence. "Why can't our records be together?"

"Megadeth and Carly Simon clash, babe." Jess teased lightly before turning down the record player a few tones. So hopefully it wouldn't burst a journalist in the making's eardrums. How else would you hear all the political bullshit? "You didn't have to do all this right now. I know you're probably tired from working."

"I'm fine. C'mon, it's gotta be perfect for you. And if my sleep deprivation means that you'll get that New York apartment we've always talked about, then fuck sleep." The nineteen year old explained before removing you from his embrace and reaching down for more books. "That was cheesy, Mariano. Rom-com cheesy. You love me so much."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/L/N." The boy's once rebellious demeanor took over as he dropped his warm face. Trying his best to appear vile. "Well definitely not you, Mariano. You tend to keep me wide awake." Your words revealed a smirk on the boys face as you pressed your hand to his shoulder. "Okay well, I'm gonna order some dinner. Let's see if I can get through this without tripping."

"Hey, wait." He called out anxiously making you turn to face him once more. "Where's my kiss?"

"I think I left it at school." You pouted making the boy give you an annoyed look before you pressed his lips against yours. A sweet sensation taking over your body in the process. You felt the boy ross the books onto the chair in the corner of the room, his hands pulling your body into yours as he deepened the kiss. There was nothing like the feeling of kissing the love of your life in your shared apartment. Not just an apartment, but a home.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hi! Could would you like to write something about reader and Tangerine where she is the Twins's "adopted sister" but they have always been secretly in love with each other. Anyway at some point they split and later they meet again on the Train (idk... maybe she is an assassin too and is trying to help them?) . Then they argue because something dangerous happens so the truth comes out and a smut at the end?! Ps: Sorry for my bad English but it's not my first language. Thank you so much!

hii! I love it

I did change some things, I hope that’s okay- I changed it to foster siblings and I didn’t do smut, really really really sorry. I’ve written so much smut lately my head might explode😭 but I have already got a train smut one, I’ll link it, in case that suits better. and your English is great, don’t worry! and you’re welcome!

thank you for your request 💌

link for assassin train smut

about time (Tangerine x Reader)

paring || soft!Tan x fem!reader

wc || 1.3k

warnings || nothing really, just fluff

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being a contract assassin meant you sometimes had to do things you weren’t comfortable doing. But right now the thought of walking into a gunfight felt so much easier than the thought of staying in Tokyo a second longer- this feeling was of heartache, rather than of adrenaline.

Momentarily relaxing into the chair of the quiet car- feeling pleased to finally be leaving this city. The thoughts of the current mission resurface, reminding you of your task. You were instructed to snatch a silver briefcase from two people, looking over the assignment paper and silently chuckling reading their names. “Why fruits?” You thought to yourself.

The truth is, you hadn’t dreamt of having this as a career- without sounding cheesy, this career chose you. But lately, you’ve become fed up with your job, you hated the way it made you feel. When you were younger you wanted to help people- not kill them. Shrugging off your consistent thoughts, you get to work.

Getting you up you walk through the carriage doors, checking the luggage area for the correct case. “No way!” You thought to yourself, spotting the train sticker on the handle. “That was too easy.” Leaning over to reach it, you stand upright feeling a bit smug while clutching the case.

A harsh cough interrupts you, turning around to see a tall moustached man glaring at you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You turn to meet the man’s face and you freeze- not out of fear, but because your past has finally caught up to you. He still looks the same, well apart from the porn-‘stache and his now very buff torso.

His eyes soften when he finally realises who was standing in front of him. Your eyes doe as your lips tug up into a smile. Even with the great speed of the Bullet Train, time stood still for a few moments.

Looking wearingly between him and the case. “Is it yours?” You ask.

“Yeah, but I don’t care about that now.” Trying to hide a smile.

You give him the case with a wry grin, “neither do I.”

When you were a teenager you were passed around the system a lot, you’d stay with new foster families every couple of months. You hated it- never feeling like you had a proper home, but that was until you met two very special people. 

These two very special people were often placed in the same houses as you, which meant that the three of you were able to develop a genuine friendship over the years. You were never able to tell him how much you loved him. It made your heart hurt- the confusion and guilt of being in love with someone from your foster family. But one night it all got too much, you couldn’t take it anymore, so you just left- you ran away. You wrote individual heartfelt letters to brothers before you left, you tucked them under their pillows as you kissed their temples goodbye. You had always regretted the way you left.

Looking at him right now, it’s like nothing had changed like the last fifteen years apart meant nothing.

You cave in, you step towards him extending your arms to initiate an embrace. He doesn’t even need to think about it, he wraps his big arms tightly around you, squeezing you. His chin resting on your head, enjoying this moment as you breathed in each other's familiar scents.

Pulling apart to look him over, beaming with soft eyes, “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

“Neither can I.” A boyish grin plastered across his face, kissing the crown of your head. It didn’t feel foreign or odd, it just felt right.

“We’re finally in Tokyo together.” You smile.

“You remember that too?” Referencing the conversation about cities you had one night, many years ago.

“You need to get off this train.” Tan suddenly admits, with sullen eyes.

“No. I’m not getting off.” You replied simply.

“It’s about to go tits up- I can’t let you get hurt.” He says as his gaze softened.

“I don’t care. I’m not going to leave you again.” Tenderly smiling up at him.

“Please? Just go.” He says a little more sternly.

“No. I can take care of myself.” Standing your ground. “Wait a second- are you both here? Are you the fruit twins?” Connecting the dots.

His eyes squinted so you took that as a ‘yes’.

“You are.” Pointing a playful finger at him, “what one are you? Are you Lemon- is it because you’re sour?” Grinning at him.

“No- I’m Tangerine.”

“Why ‘Tangerine’?”

“Because I’m adaptable- oh bloody hell it’s not important. Are you trying to change the subject?”

Hiding your smirk, “…no”

“You are. You need to go- please. I could never forgive myself if you got hurt.” Face screwing up, hating the thought.

“Tan…” you started with a smirk as you called him by his code name rather than his real name. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” He quickly responds.

“Do you have a girlfriend- or wife or-or someone?” You said slowly.

His head tilted to the side in confusion. “Uh-? Why?”

“Just answer.”

“No…”

“Good. I want to tell you something I should’ve said years ago… I’m still in love with you. So no, I cannot leave you again, but if you don’t feel the way, please stop me- I don’t know why I’m still taking- just tell me to stop- Christ, my hands are getting clammy. I’m sorry, I don’t think I should’ve said that.” Eyes closing as if you were trying to hide yourself.

Slowly opening them when there was a looming silence, looking up to you see him grinning widely at you.

“I’ve loved you since I was a kid- I haven’t stopped.” He admits. “Look at this.” He pulls out his phone showing you the wallpaper. It was a picture of the letter you gave him all those years ago. “It reminds me to keep going.” Looking over you tenderly. “It’s why I’m still here.”

Your chest staggered as you inched closer to him, you didn’t want to wait any longer. You tenderly kissed him, and as you pulled away his hands cupped your face as if he was trying to bring you back in. He gently brushed over your lips as you melted into him, it felt so surreal to be finally here at this moment.

Separating with a twinkle in each of your eyes, beaming at one another.

“We can run away together? And forget this mission? I don’t ever want to let you go again.” You softly ask. It was a big ask, you just hoped he’d say yes.

“I’m not leaving without my brother.”

“I know, I meant him too.” Cupping his cheeks.

A smile arose under his moustache. “Okay.”

“Really?” Grinning.

“Yes. Let’s go get him. And bring that case- we can put it on red and have a wonderful time.”

Struggling to contain your excitement, you kiss him eagerly. “Okay we gotta be quick, next stop is in two minutes.”

You picked up the case as he lead you through the carriage by your hand, immediately noticing Lemon with the Son.

“We gotta go.” Tan says seriously to his brother.

“Who’s the girl- NO! No fucking way!” Lemon shouts, earning a “shush” from a lady a couple rows in front. He rushes up to you, hugging you tightly.

“I’ve missed you! But we gotta go, right now.” You say ushering him along.

Tangerine leans over the table towards the kid sitting close to the window, “you better stay on the fucking train, your daddy is waiting for you at Kyoto.”

The three of you walked off the train together, it felt like you finally had your family back. Who knows, maybe you could work together as a team. No longer hating this city, it brought your family together.

[olderthannetfic]

I'm in a server where one person consistently complained constantly, vented in channels that weren't meant for venting, talked over others who were venting in correct channels, and couldn't understand (or care) that other people had (gasp!!) different thoughts on characters.

Someone finally seemed to get fed up and responded what I know I and other people I talked to were thinking -- basically that complaining everywhere in the server is stressing others tf out, and that they come across like an asshole who expects everyone in a random server to drop everything to talk about their problems. Cause honestly? They did.

The individual flipped out at them. They genuinely didn't see that they were annoying people at best, and stressing people out (or more) at worst. I've talked to friends about how some people don't seem to grasp that other people online are people as well, and just because they don't constantly overshare and complain doesn't mean they're not going through shit. This person flat out said that. The person calling them out mentioned also being chronically ill, and the response amounted to belittling them and saying that they were 'so much worse off so has the right to vent'.

This person left the server (thank fuck, things are already so much better, and the channels for personal shit aren't a wall of them complaining about everything wrong with them, everything others have apparently done to them, and anything and everything in between), but they very much left thinking they were some victim, not someone who was pissing everyone off and stressing people out.

I guess I just didn't really think people like this existed, not to this degree. I know a lot of us can be guilty of venting online (just look at your inbox sometimes lol, or me now), but I think I always thought people were aware they were doing it? But I checked out this person's tumblr, and they had walls of text talking about how horrible everyone in the fandom was for not supporting them when they were going through hard times and needed a space to talk. Some users were responding things like "fandom's an escape for everyone, people don't always want to hear venting or interact with it, people are going through their own shit, and more" and oh god this person didn't care.

And just... huh?? The server's for fandom to talk about random characters. There are some non fandom channels yeah, but people usually just talk about knitting or made a random comment about having a shitty day.

idk, I know fandom is socialisation for a lot of people as well as a space to talk about blorbos, it certainly is for me, but expecting people to put their own mental health on the line cause you had a bad day just seems cruel. And given their tumblr, they're still doing it, and think they're in the right.

This just happened a couple days ago, but the server is already a much more chill place now that they're gone. Must be an exhausting way to go through life.

--

[ez-with-a-fez]

Okay y'all look. I didn't hate season 4. In fact, I really really liked it (if any season was the worst, it was season 3). I liked the interactions. I liked the plot. And I'm the kind of person who can ignore potholes and annoying things in a piece of media I really enjoy. For me, the Lila and Five plotline made a lot of sense. Some say it was out of character for Five to want to stay and not help his family or whatever, but like, it's kinda not? Maybe at the beginning of the series, but last season he seemed not to care as much. He wanted to retire. Wanted so hard to believe that it was all good so he could get on with his life, not be tethered to the whole "I must save them" thought process. But staying with a girl he really likes in a place of peace and calm sounds pretty much like the perfect ending for a sixty-something year old time travelled. But anyway, I've always been a Lila and Diego shipper, don't get me wrong. But to me, Five and Lila have got a connection. A familiarity that comes through being the only ones who really understand the craziness of the commission. They're both good at keeping up with each other, mentally and physically. And they definitely have similar personalities and drive. The only thing I wish was different was that it happened earlier. There's a couple reasons. I, personally, wanted to see more of their close interactions. I liked how they did the relationship cause it didn't feel as rushed, I suppose. The montage of them growing closer in a situation that it made SENSE for them to grow closer worked a lot better than just them going around for a couple hours and something happening suddenly. But I still think there's more I want to see. But the biggest reason is that there wasn't really a resolution. They all DIED with Diego still hating Five. They never got a yes or no to "do you love him?" And they never really got to talk about what it meant for them because they got interrupted by another end of the world. It kinda sucked. These close knit individuals. This family that has literally seen the end of the world like, four times, ends on a sour note. And now they're gone. Forever. Forgotten. Their old lives literally rewritten out of history. There's no fixing those relationships. No healing as people. I just think that if it had started two or three episodes earlier, or, hell, even an episode earlier, there would be more time to... I don't know. At least end in a way that might help with the fandom's anger. Most people are mad at Five and Lila's betrayal. At the out of character-ness of some of their actions. I think giving them time to heal would help that. Even having them in the circle and having Diego and Five realize they're dying and don't want to go out mad at each other and have a quick talk/yell with each other, y'know? Idk. I could be crazy. But I just think it would be less of a punch to the gut that way.