#ignore the quality this was a nightmare to get hold of

[greyskyflowers]

Ichigo has horrible nightmares, because I refuse to believe that he doesn't, and insomnia.

Most of the time he just gets up for the rest of the night, goes to train or on runs to try to burn off the anxious energy.

If they're bad enough, or he's at the point where if he doesn't sleep then he going to pass out, he develops a habit of goes finding certain people.

The nightmares leave him a little frazzled, mind messy from lack of sleep and fear. They leave him a little more vulnerable, a little less self conscious of getting comfort because he may shake out of his skin if he doesn't settle down. Sometimes he does things without realizing it, fight or flight kicking in along side unsettled hollow instincts, and he's off to find somewhere he feels safe and can sleep.

In the human world, he'll sneak in to find Kisuke. Right, sneak, like anyone in that building doesn't know he's there.

Sometimes Kisuke's in his labs so Ichigo just sits down outside the door, just enough out of the way to not trip anyone, back to the wall and arms crossed over them to rest his head on.

It soothes the vulnerable feeling, the sharp edge of terror in his chest. He trusts Kisuke to sense a threat and respond to it. He also likes the feeling of his reiatsu, cool like river stones and soothing like summer rain.

If Kisuke is busy or out, then he'll find a spot where he feels close enough to Tessai or Yoruichi to grasp at them for comfort.

They're all great about it.

Yoruichi will come and curl up next to him, her reiatsu brushing against his skin like fur, soft and warm. She purrs until the panic doesn't itch under his skin so badly. He's woken up to blankets pulled over him and sometimes a pillow between him and the wall.

The true problems arise whenever he stays in soul society.

No one says anything but he knows they can all tell when he has a nightmare, his reiatsu reacting to his fear and discomfort. Between the nightmares and the fear of waking everyone up, he's too anxious to sleep.

It's the 4th night with no sleep and he's restless, eyes burning and head reeling. It's familiarity that has him walking mindlessly until he finds Shinji's office. He slips in and ignores the sharp gaze immediately on him. This isn't new, he did this a few times while training with them.

He sits down in the far corner, back to the wall and facing the door. He draws his legs and rests his head on them. He already feels better, sleep creeping up on him fast.

All the visored have a eerie quality to their reiatsu but Ichigo likes it, especially like this. The sun warmed and soft sandy feeling of Shinji's reiatsu covering him is enough for him to sleep.

Shinji might be the only one beside Kisuke that Ichigo breaks his distance rule for. It's easier for everyone if they keep acknowledgement to a minimum when Ichigo seeks them out in the night. They've had years, centuries some of them, to make their peace with what they've seen and done. Ichigo has not. It's a topic they all avoid, pretending that not talking about it makes it go away.

He's a little touch starved, he'll admit it. He doesn't get much contact that isn't fighting, or that isn't meant to hurt or teach.

The clawing urge to be safe eats at him, especially at night. It won't let him rest, keeps him awake with anxious thoughts or wakes him up with fear.

Very, very few things would willing take on Kisuke Urahara or Shinji Hirako, even if the prize was Ichigo.

So getting a little more personal is common with them. He sits a little closer, holds on a little tighter, visits them a little more. The pressure of their reiatsu feels like a weighted blanket.

He also find others he trusts for those nights.

He's goes to Kensei and ignores Shuhei's questioning and semi concerned look.

Kensei complains about having too many people in his office, Mashiro sticks her tongue out at him and Shuhei looks genuinely ruffled at the comment, but he doesn't turn Ichigo away.

He won't, wouldn't.

Kensei's reiatsu reminds him of swaying bamboo leaves and splotches of sunlight through tree branches, Mashiro's is tall grass and wildflowers, and Shuhei's is heavy but comforting.

Ichigo wakes up to Mashiro snoring on one shoulder, the side between him and the door, Shuhei is asleep on the other.

He also goes to Rose, who doesn't seem surprised to see him either.

Kira usually sits in the office too, a familiar restlessness and unease to him that Ichigo recognized in himself. They sit next to each other and it's nice to have the warmth of someone next to him.

He relaxes and can almost hear Rose's reiatsu humming, Kira's a gentle rain storm at his side.

There's a simmering fury that burns hot in the Visored everytime Ichigo comes to them, exhausted and anxious, and joins lieutenants already there for the same reasons.

Aizen left a mark on the younger ones, dark circles under their eyes and nightmares a constant battle.

Ichigo does well with them though. He sits quietly with Kira, sometimes they talk in low voice until they end up slumped against each other. He usually ends up between Mashiro and Shuhei, all of them falling asleep in a mess of limbs. He's unsure with Momo, a lot of people are, but she's growing to like him and it won't be long before they start talking. It doesn't hurt that Tōshirō thinks highly of Ichigo.

Tōshirō just waves him to the corner, in the middle of arguing with Rangiku and eventually kicking her out for the night. He's quiet as he goes back to work and the room is almost chilly, but it feels good against Ichigo's flushed skin. Tōshirō pauses a few times like he wants to say something, the words almost spilling out of his mouth, but he doesn't. He resumes working and Ichigo falls asleep to a snowstorm. Rangiku wakes him up in the morning with a smile and the smell of smoke and embers.

The 11th is... unexpected. It's the worst nightmare he's had in a while and stumbling out in a panic had brought him here. Maybe because nothing was stupid enough to come looking for a fight with Kenpachi and his men. That longing for safe eventually made the decision for him and he sat on the far edges of the division, hidden by the shadows. He knows that anyone awake would know he was there and sure enough, Yumichika comes around the corner and raises an eyebrow at him while Ikkaku looks over his shoulder. Ichigo just curls in a little tighter and watches them, waiting for them to kick him out or laugh. They don't do either. Yumichika just sighs and says something to Ikkaku and they sit down further down the walkway. They don't look at him, looking away or even closing their eyes. The tension slowly leaves, and it's hard to stay awake as he relaxes. The reiatsu that rolls over him smells like iron and he can vaguely tell where Kenpachi is, his reiatsu twisting and cracking like lightning.

He wakes up with just enough time to sneak out, hovering in front of Yumichika and Ikkaku hesitantly, only taking off when Kenpachi start howling about a fight.

They're laughing as he runs off.

Byakuya almost doesn't allow it, but Ichigo must look as bad as he feels because he only gets observed for a minute before he's ignored again. It's the only sign he gets that he won't get kicked out and it makes him hesitant at the door before slinking into the far corner and getting comfortable. He falls asleep to flowers and the cool warmth of spring cautiously grazing his skin. He wakes up to the smell of cold steel and the feel of scale and furs. Renji and Rukia sit beside him, waiting for him to wake up.

--------------------------

Do I go back and forth between Ichigo being everyone's secret crush or their collectively adopted, traumatized human? Yes, and everything/anything in between.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Nothing Better than What We’ve Got

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: You once said you wouldn’t marry anyone unless you were with them for at least a year, but maybe with Jake, your mind has changed.

Warnings: Allusion to smut(ish). That’s probably it. A MASSIVE BALL OF FLUFF!!!

Notes: Part of the Oh, Baby Universe. 

Words: 2600

---

He slept well these days. As deeply and thoroughly as the little girl nestled in her crib down the hall. All traces of nightmares were long gone and he woke perfectly rested with a smile across his face before he dropped a kiss to your forehead, then your lips. Every morning the same confirmation of his happiness. 

You were thankful for that; that he had fought his way through the pain you had caused, the added stress of dealing with your mother, and the unease and fear of facing his own parents to get to a place of peace. But that was Jake. Put a wall in front of him and he would fight his way over it. That is, with the exception of the time when you were gone. I wasn't getting over you, he'd said. There's no way. In that area, you had stunted him. 

Pinpricks of guilt lingered, occasionally making themselves a tad sharper; impossible to ignore. But despite what you had done, Jake remained a fighter, tackling all battles that quite literally kicked down his front door. Just as he was a protector; fierce and unrelenting when it came to keeping you and your shared daughter safe. And yet, those prominent qualities made him no less of a lover. Your lover, your man—the only one you ever cared to have. 

You loved him so terribly much. He made up a piece of your world that if taken away from you would leave an unfillable void. Jake Seresin was it. He was everything. Of that, you'd been so sure of for so long, and you were tired of not letting him know it in every way possible. 

"Jake," you whispered.

His eyes were closed, mouth ever so slightly parted so his gentle breaths could warm your face. You really hated to wake him, but not so much that you paused to consider stopping your light shaking of his shoulder. 

"Jake!"

He began to stir, brows furrowing, consciousness tugging at him. "Mmm, Honey," he muttered. Lazily shifting onto his side, his hand found your bare hip, a weight holding you down. 

"Baby, wake up. I need you."

He mumbled your name, but when your words sunk in, his torso shot up in bed. Eyes wide. Chest heaving. "What? What's wrong?" he rushed out as his head turned in all directions to scan the room. "Are you ok? Where's Eve?"

"No, baby," you soothed. "We're fine." With your hand pressed into his chest—feeling the intensity of his rapid, thudding heartbeat—you helped settle him back onto the mattress. Head again cushioned by a pillow, Jake blew out a breath and gave you a look that barely concealed the merest bit of irritation for nearly causing his heart attack.

His hand layered yours for a moment before he grasped it tightly and brought your palm to his lips for a kiss. He kissed it once more, the second time longer.

"You can't do that to me, Honey. You know how I am." A mild scolding; maybe a fair one. You did know how he was. His sleep might have improved exponentially, but he was still a military man, still a man who had suffered enough and worried enough and feared enough for the sake of his family that he could be pulled from that deep sleep for next to nothing. Just a whiff of danger or threat was all it took, and your words were not so carefully chosen as to protect him from questioning your safety in the dead of night.

"Sorry."

"It's ok," he smiled, flipping back onto his side. He kissed your forehead, pulled your body into the cocoon of his frame, and closed his eyes again. You cupped his cheek and ran your thumb over the scruff of dark blond whiskers. 

"Tell me what's wrong," he said, but his voice was already fading as exhaustion draped over him. 

"Nothing."

"No?" You could hardly make out the weak syllable. 

"Wrong? No," you confirmed. Those lips were parting once more. Light puffs traveled in and out of his lungs. You considered letting him be, but then you said, "I want to marry you."

You'd stared into his eyes countless times, but this was different. When eyelids shot open to reveal green orbs, they held an array of emotions, each one of them struggling to claim the forefront. His eyes flicked back and forth between yours in search of the meaning within your gaze, but he wouldn't be searching long. You knew your emotion was solidly present. The love you felt for him splayed across the surface of you, an abundance pouring out through your eyes and smile and touch.

"You—" His inhale was sharp; exhale heavy. He blinked and shook his head like he was trying to understand if he heard you right. "You what?"

Your thumb reached lower to graze over his bottom lip. "I want to be married to you."

"I thought…" From his continuous disbelief you chuckled. "You said not for a year."

"Jake, we have a child together. And I love you so much," you said softly. His hand on your waist squeezed your flesh. "I don't want to wait anymore to be your wife."

He stopped blinking altogether, but then a smile cracked his face and he threw the comforter off his bare body to hop out of the bed. 

"What are you doing?" 

He crossed the room in record time and, opening one of the dresser drawers, began to rifle through his neatly folded underwear. When he pulled his hand back, a little black box was clutched in his shaky fingers.

Any amusement on your face dissipated and you sat up quickly, the sheets falling away to expose your chest, but you didn't care. He took his spot across from you and recovered his lower half. Both sets of eyes were glued to the box as he placed it atop the bed between you. 

You almost didn’t want to touch it. Well, truly, you knew it wasn’t yours to touch quite yet. But still, it felt like that box had some sort of magic inside it—the culmination of all you’d been through with the man you loved somehow stuffed into one tiny hollow cube—and that opening it would overwhelmingly drench you in every feeling you’d ever had for Jake, every emotion that ever passed through you. And that was so, so, much.

You never needed a ring to prove anything to one another. It wasn’t the physical symbol of love that would forever hold you and Jake together. If anything, you had Eve for that. Nevertheless, you wanted it. You wanted to be his wife. You wanted him as your husband. 

"You had this already?" You asked, vision beginning to haze from a damp coating.

Jake swallowed, finally looking up at you. You met the sweetness in his eyes. "I'd been thinking about all of it for a while. I got the ring made a couple months ago."

"How long is a while?"

Some of that sweetness fell away to nerves. His smile faltered so he could clear his throat. "You don't want to know." 

You nodded encouragingly, weaving your fingers with his.

For a minute, you weren’t sure he was going to answer you, but then he sighed. "Honey," he said. He paused again, his mouth opening and closing. He shook his head to himself and looked back at you. "I used to imagine you being my wife well before you ever kissed me."

Your eyes went wide as saucers. 

That day was permanently vivid in your mind. The day you took that leap. The day you finally grasped that Jake—the potential of finally being with him after a year of back and forth—was worth the risk of any humiliation had you misunderstood what he felt for you. That one day changed your entire world. You’d kissed him, you’d slept with him, you’d conceived your daughter without knowing it. It felt so long ago and yet if you closed your eyes and reached out your hand, you were sure your fingertips would brush along the memory. 

"A while,” you whispered. 

He nodded. "A while."

Each breath was loud in your ears, each heartbeat adding to the echo-like rhythm. 

“So, Honey…” Jake took the box in one hand, and with the other, pulled back the hinged lid. The diamond sparkled despite the lack of light in the room. “Will you–"

"You don't have to ask," you said as you scrambled into his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs. His arm held you tightly to help steady the sudden collision of your bodies as your hands framed his face. Leaning down, you kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him—every inch of his face you could claim. "You already know the answer."

Feathery touch traveled up and down your spine, then he pressed his lips to yours; softer; delicate and thorough compared to the frenzy of yours. "Let me hear it,” he pleaded. “I want to hear it so bad.” 

The corners of your lips quirked up just slightly at the desperation in his voice. You could see how much it meant to him, so you didn’t make him wait. 

"Yes, Jake,” you said, nudging your nose against his, “I will marry you."

He let out a deep groan and his hand dropped the box so it could weave into your hair as mouths melded again. Your lips tingled in the aftermath of your words, the sensation making its way throughout your entire system the longer you stayed intertwined with the man you were going to call your husband.

You were so close to losing yourself, as you always did when you were with him. But then it hit you. 

You released a muffled squeak and pushed against his chest. "Wait, wait, wait," you stopped him.

"What?” His voice was husky. His eyelids heavy over the love and lust swirling in emerald irises, and he licked his lips, the hand at the base of your neck already starting to draw you back into his kiss.

"You forgot to put it on me,” you said quickly. 

"Oh!" A genuine expression of surprise took over his face. He looked around the mattress until he found the box with its ring still snuggled inside. Plucking out the silver band, he said, "Sorry, Honey. Got distracted.” 

You giggled at his renewed eagerness. 

Few things in your life had been more beautiful than Jake sliding that ring on your finger. When the nurse placed a swaddled Eve against your breast so you could get your first good look at your daughter’s perfect little face. When you saw Jake after nearly a year of being apart and realized that not only did you want to be with him, you belonged with him. And when you tucked your daughter into his awaiting arms and heard his declaration of love for her only minutes after his learning of the circumstances of her existence. 

Those moments gave you life. Hidden away, but always accessible. Never did you spend a day in darkness with the light of them behind you. They helped you to remember that nothing mattered but Jake and your baby. His father, your mother, the difficulties of past choices, and anything the future may throw at you were weak under the weight of each beautiful building block that made up the life you and Jake shared. 

And now you had another moment. Another memory. Another block to squash your troubles. 

“I love you,” he said, letting his lips brush over the diamond. “Don’t ever take this off.”

“I’ll never want to,” you replied. 

—-

He’d worn you out. 

It wasn’t exactly intentional, but he couldn’t stop wanting you. He couldn’t tamp down how badly he needed to be inside of you again and again. And he thought he would pass out alongside you, he really did, but there was no resting his eyes after all of that. You were going to be his wife. 

His Wife. 

A part of him was too stunned to believe it, but every time he glanced down at your hand, the ring was still there and his heart burst in his chest all over again. So, no, he didn’t rest. There were too many emotions bouncing around within the confines of his body. 

Instead, he watched you sleep, occasionally tucking back strands of your hair when your shifting caused them to fall into your face so he could press his lips to your skin. Every few minutes he found somewhere else to kiss. Your fingers, shoulder, cheek, temple, neck. As long as he didn’t wake you, his careful kisses continued to find new places until the first rays of sunlight broke through the curtains. 

Jake sighed. He didn’t wish to leave you, but Eve’s cries would begin soon. Slept peacefully, she did, but like clockwork, his baby girl woke so early it was as if the dawn itself whispered in her ear each morning. 

With a final kiss, Jake stood from the bed and grabbed his sweatpants off the floor so he could pull them up his legs. He made his way down the hall into the nursery and took the stirring girl in his arms before she had a chance to question his absence. 

Jake had learned his daughter’s needs rather soon into their budding relationship; something he took great pride in. And he knew she favored touch. Had to be greeted with cuddles and kisses before anything else could be considered important. Their routine was not one she cared to have interrupted, so, as always, Jake quickly changed Eve’s diaper before taking a seat in the rocking chair his Gram had gifted, keeping her snug against his chest while they swayed with the back-and-forth motion. 

His eyes welcomed hers. 

“Well, good morning, baby girl,” he said. 

She granted him the most delicate of smiles. As incredible and heart-stopping as yours. 

Jake knew she’d destroy someone when the day came—would absolutely wreck them from the inside out because of that smile, exactly how you had done to him. He just hoped that if he had to watch his daughter with anyone, despite the anxiety that zig-zagged up and down his spine at the thought, that person would be worth Eve putting her love and time into. And if they were worth it, he’d wish them luck. Because as much as Eve’s face matched his, her personality was clearly going to develop into a carbon copy of yours. In his daughter was your wit and love, but he didn’t kid himself into thinking she didn’t also have your stubbornness and grit. But thankfully, it would be a while before he’d be forced to worry over anything like that. For now, other matters were to be shared.

“I’ve got news for you,” he continued, extending his hand so Eve could wrap her five little fingers around his larger one. “Mama and Daddy are getting married.”

She blinked, then giggled. 

“I know. I’m sure it seems awfully fast to you,” he said with a chuckle of his own, “but I’ve loved your Mama longer than you know. Longer than she knew, too.

“And she’s going to be so beautiful in her dress, and you’re going to be so beautiful in whatever doesn’t make you grumpy that day. You can be our flower girl and we’ll have Uncle Rooster carry you and help you toss petals down the aisle, doesn’t that sound good?”

At her look of awe, Jake gave a peck to her forehead.

“I’d say things will be perfect, baby girl,” he grinned, running his thumb over the back of her hand, “But they already are.”

---

tag list: @wkndwlff​ @genius2050​ @sagittarius-flowerchild​ @dempy​ @oliviah-25​ @rosiahills22​ 

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[poorlywrittenbutentertaining]

Caring for a Duckling

Gibbs x Fem!oc

warnings: medical stuff, and boats... i guess?

summary: Gibbs is volunteered to care for Elaine after her concussion.

The sun splotched across Elaine’s face as her brain pulsated in her skull, splitting pains shooting down her spine. She attempted to open her eyes only to be met by a fresh spike of pain in the back of her head. She squinted against the light and tried to focus on her unfamiliar surroundings. The sheets she layed under were not her usual bamboo thread, but a homely, soft, cotton. The room she was in was unfamiliar. It was scarcely decorated, with what looked like quality, hand built furniture. She pulled the sheets from her body and looked down to find herself not in her scrubs, but a large, worn tee shirt and a pair of far oversized basketball shorts. Her brain scrambled to remember the events of the previous night, but it was like trying to collect water in a sieve.

Memory came in short, blurry flashes. A red hoodie here, a gurney there, and an old truck. Like watching a brief slideshow of her own evening. She didn’t remember drinking, let alone leaving her apartment. She rubbed her forehead, to be met with the soft scratch of gauze. Right, she had been hit in the head, hard. She began running a mental checklist.

Pain: moderately high

Memory loss sustained

Blunt force wound to the back of the head

Vision mildly blurry 

Delirium: no

Nausea: mild 

She sighed and looked out the window. She was greeted with a view of a small, well maintained garden. A face flashed through her head. Gibbs. She had been on the phone with him and he had been there when she woke up.

The door creaked lightly on its hinges and Elaine twisted towards the sound. Gibbs stood in the threshold holding a tall glass of water and some medicine.

“I was gonna leave these, but I guess you’re awake,” Gibbs said, “how are you feeling?”

“Bad,” Elaine answered honestly. Gibbs nodded and entered the room. He walked by her and placed the items on the carved bedside table, “you came to my house.”

“I did. I heard some commotion and came to check,” Gibbs shrugged.

“How did you get in?” Elaine asked.

“Same way the petty officer did. He broke your lock.”

“Oh…” At that moment something Dawned on Elaine, “did you change my clothes?!”

Gibbs chuckled, “no, you woke up and raided my closet before passing out again.”

“Ah,” Elaine nodded. She leaned her head into her hands and let out a long sigh, “what a nightmare.”

“Here, take these,” Gibbs held the pills and water in front of her, “it’ll help the pain.”

Elaine took the medicine, “I’m a doctor, gunny, I know what Tylenol does.” She quickly swallowed the pills dry and then took a few long gulps of the water. Gibbs gave a half smile and nodded.

“S’pose you do, doc.”

“Well I’m fine now, you can take me home,” Elaine moved to stand, ignoring the pounding in her head.

“Na-ah-ah,” Gibbs grabbed her upper arm, “I told Ducky I’d watch you today.”

“I’m a doctor, I can take care of myself.”

“Notorious fact that doctors make the worst patients.”

“And how would you know that, Gunny?” Elaine sassed.

“Because Ducky said so,” Gibbs' voice was even, he moved in close to her and Elaine felt her heart stammer for a moment, “now lay down.”

“Fine, fine,” Elaine put her hands up. Jethro released her arm and lifted the sheets for her, “I can get myself into bed.”

“I know.” 

Elaine rolled her eyes and scooted in, allowing him to fluff the sheets over her. She had to admit, the bed was nice.

~~~

The house had been quiet for a few hours and Elaine felt like she was going stir crazy. She slid herself out of the bed and began looking closer around the room. The furniture seemed unused, and if the fresh scent of laundry detergent was anything to go off of, Gibbs had probably retrieved her fresh sheets and blankets for the bed. There were no paintings or pictures on the walls, and while the decorations and furnishings were scarce they all held the signs of being homemade. Some from mismatched woods, others with intricate carvings. Elaine ran her hand over the dresser and slid open the top drawer. An assortment of linens, seemingly random. She closed the drawer and walked to the door, slowly turning the handle and cracking the door open with nary a squeak.

“Well oiled,” Elaine noted as she peeked down the hall. There were a few other doors, but what interested Elaine was the staircase down at the end of the hall. She padded down them quickly to be met with a much more open space. It was more decorated, the ghost of a woman’s touch fleeting in the details. A stack of coasters here, a small lamp there. Elaine smiled as she moved around the living space. It was clean, if not a little dated. There were books around the fireplace and a large TV hanging over the hearth. The leather couch was particularly worn on one cushion. The coffee table in front of it had a ring from a cup being placed over and over again. Elaine could imagine Gibbs sitting to watch TV in the same place every night, setting his cup on the edge of the coffee table.

While the space was inviting, it felt lonely. Like the ghost of Jethro would occasionally pass through the space, a specter in his own home. 

Elaine’s ears picked up a small scratching sound coming from an open door. She peeked through, finding the entrance to a basement. The scratching echoes through the cement room, a small amount of light being let in from the high windows. She approached the railing and peeked over, finding the boning of a wooden boat, and Gibbs dutifully sanding at one of the timber boards. The railing creaked under her weight.

“You should be laying down,” Gibbs said, the sanding stopped as he glanced up at her. Elaine simply shrugged and padded down the wooden stairs. Gibbs rolled his eyes and resumed his work.

“You build boats?” Elaine asked. Gibbs just nodded towards the wooden structure, “You know they make those automatic now.”

“Don’t use power tools,” Gibbs dusted the piece he was working on and resumed sanding.

“Really? None?” Elaine meandered to the workbench and took in the neatly organized tools. A series of manual drills, chisels, hammers, sanding blocks, and other woodworking tools Elaine didn’t recognize.

“Nope.”

Elaine peeked into his mug to find an amber liquid, she lifted it to her nose and sniffed. The scent burned in her nose and she cougehed, “bourbon?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Gibbs said.

“That’s code for, ‘it’s gross until you get used to it’,” Elaine gave him a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she continued looking around the basement, “Got anymore sandpaper?”

“You should be resting, Dr. Wright,” Gibbs turned to her.

“I’m bored and something deep inside me tells me that I can handle some sandpaper after bumping my head,” Elaine leaned back against the workbench. Gibbs let out a sigh and held the sandpaper out to her. She grinned and took it, stepping around him and approaching the boat. She began sanding side to side and gibbs quickly stopped her, placing his hand firmly over hers and then guiding it up and down.

“With the grain of the wood,” He said. Elaine swallowed and peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Right,” She nodded. His hand pulled away as he returned to the workbench.

Elaine spent the rest of the day practically tailing Gibbs until he placed a book firmly in her hands and had her sit down on the couch with an order to rest for the remainder of the day. It wasn’t long until she fell asleep.

~~~

Gibbs peeked out of the kitchen to find Elaine curled up on the couch. She laid in the worn spot he usually sat in. He sighed and shook his head. He grabbed a blanket from the closet and flicked it open. He laid it over Elaine and tucked it softly around her. He took the book from her hands and noted the page she was on before returning it to its place on the shelf.

His eyes flicked over to the front door when it creaked open. In the threshold stood Ducky, his coat draped over one arm and his briefcase in the other.

“I believe you are housing a little duckling, I’m here to take her home.”

(enjoyed it? Let me know what scenarios/episodes you want to see from Elaine and Gibbs next!)

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours, Part 11

Grudgingly Yours, Part 11

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Billy didn’t know when it happened. Sometimes he thought it was instantaneous, like those cartoon images when someone got a brilliant idea and a light blub flashed on. Other times, it was the absolute opposite. A slow warmth that spread over him, a feeling that he never knew existed. The longing intensified over time, grew more potent with each interaction, escalating from lukewarm to a searing heat that took over him completely.

It was a complete mystery to him, but ultimately the how didn’t matter. End result was the same - he was in love with you.

But he didn’t want to be, he fought it with everything he had.

For so long his only goal was to destroy those who hurt Frank and him. He spent years obsessing over it, gathering as much info as possible so he could track down the fuckers. Because once they were dead, the nightmares would cease. He’d stop hearing Frank’s struggling words while taking his last dying breath. The tortures, the beatings, the smell of burning skin – the horrific memories would end and he’d be the same soldier he was before they were captured. The chaos in his mind, the restlessness and insomnia – all of that fueled his drive for revenge.

And then you came along.

At first you were the thing he had to bear because his grandfather insisted. He needed the old man’s money and connections to find the kidnappers and figured he’d make your life a living hell until you left him. Except you ended up being completely different than he’d expected. Not quiet, not meek, definitely not docile – all the qualities his grandfather wanted. Instead you were loud and bossy, and you didn’t take shit. From him or Alistair. You fought back. You argued. And you definitely retaliated when things got dicey. You defended him when he’d been a complete ass to you, for no reason other than the fact you didn’t like bullies. That’s what Billy couldn’t understand, how you could threaten to poison him one night and then defend him the next. You were a fucking enigma.

On the anniversary of Frank’s death, when Billy had been at his absolute worst and no amount of alcohol or drugs could quiet the bloodcurdling memories in his mind, you offered him comfort. You held him, hugged him, cradled him to sleep – and it was the first night of rest he’d gotten in months. You did that for him, despite all the insults he hurled your way. You had compassion for him, and others, and a kind of strange empathy he simply didn’t understand and it fascinated him. It was such a direct contrast to how you spoke when you were angry, how you proudly wore the label of golddigger, how you talked smack to Alistair. You were a complete bitch yet you were busting your butt trying to open a clinic for people who no one gave a shit about. He didn’t get why. He didn’t get you. And that curiosity drove his fixation for you, thoughts of you clouding his mind more and more. It wasn’t until Curtis’s wedding that he realized if he were to let you, you could make him abandon his quest for revenge. Seeing Maria there, knowing how easily he could forget his promise to Frank, it hit him like a ton of bricks the hold you had over him. He tried to deny it, to himself, to you, tried to ignore his growing feelings for you, to hate you, but he couldn’t. Until Dinah came to the wedding with news about Frank’s killers, and then he realized it was a sign from the universe he needed to refocus on what really mattered – justice for himself, for Frank. Making the murderers pay. There was no room for you in his mind or his heart. You didn’t belong in his life. So he humiliated you, knowing that would make it easy for you to hate him before he took off for certain death. Even if there was a small chance he’d survive, he didn’t want to be with someone who held so much fucking power over him.

Of course that turned out to be complete bullshit.

Instead of fading, his feelings intensified during the past two months. And they didn’t distract him from his mission. No, the complete opposite. Having you in his mind helped him stay focused - there was no way he’d let his enemies live when they could get to him again. Or you. Fuck no. So he hunted them down meticulously and killed them all, wiping out all traces that could come back to haunt him.

After he accomplished what he set out to do, he came rushing back because he couldn’t stand the fucking ache in his soul anymore. Two long months had passed without any contact with you and he’d had enough. The longing for you was palpable, a living, breathing black hole that strengthened more and more everyday and wreaked havoc with his fucking mind. The only thing that brought him any peace was the thought of seeing you again. Your laugh, your voice, your scent. How your eyes lit up when you got the upper hand on him. The way your face scrunched up into the most adorable scowl when you were concentrating on work. The tender expression on your face when you connected with him emotionally.

But when he got home at three in the morning, there was no sign of you in the penthouse.

The bottom floor was clean and pristine. The living room, which you’d made into a makeshift office, was free of its usual clutter. Your bedroom was untouched, your closets empty. He’d been in your room a few times over the months - discreetly so you weren’t aware – and knew your penchant for choas  Makeup scattered on the bathroom counter. Clothes piled on the nearby recliner. But there was nothing of you left in that room, like you’d never been there in the first place. And that fucked him up badly. Because it never occurred to him you’d leave. After all, you’d made a goddamn deal with Alistair. And the two of you were married. That meant something.  But seeing your room empty, discovering all of your things gone, recognizing he’d fucked up so bad that you left – he couldn’t stand it. He needed you. He wanted you.

He loved you.

And he wasn’t going to lose you.

“Get your fucking hands off of me!”

Your rage-filled voice brought him out of his reverie instantly. He knew you’d be pissed, was counting on it actually, because it was how he could get you to drop the ice-queen mask. And his plan worked, if your fiery eyes were any indication. His hands gripped your wrists, his body pressed against yours so he could feel every inch of you as you struggled against him. You didn’t make it easy, that’s for sure. Only a few seconds ago you’d tried to hurt him with the glass you were holding, but he’d managed to swerve it away.

“Why are you here, you fucking psychopath?” you screamed, panting for air.

Your cheeks were flushed, lips still red from lipstick you were wearing. You looked hot, so fucking hot, and he couldn’t stop staring. There was a time when you meant nothing to him and now all he wanted was to immerse himself in you completely.

You tried to knee him in the groin but he blocked the move by stepping aside, easing his grip on you. At that moment you tried to escape but didn’t get far, running over the glass shards that lay on the floor. Hearing you groan with pain, he quickly rushed over. As he tried to pick you up, you fought back hard and kicked him repeatedly. That’s when he noticed you were bleeding. Shit. “Calm the fuck down!”

“Go to hell!

Using all his strength, he pulled out the zip ties from his back pocket and secured them around your wrists. It wasn’t easy with you pushing and shoving at him, but he finally managed to wrangle you under control. Throwing you on the bed, he then secured the zip ties around your feet.

“Asshole!”

He stood back. Peering back at you, he was mesmerized. Fuck, you were so hot. And now you were all tied up and screaming mad, like one of his fantasies come to life, and all he wanted was to fuck you senseless. He was hard just watching you squirm, but he forced himself to snap out of it. You were bleeding. Storming over to the bathroom, he started looking through the cabinets until he found some first-aid supplies. He took a quick glance at the mirror only to find the top of his shirt covered in blood spots. Shit. Apparently you’d managed to cut him earlier but he hadn’t noticed.

Grabbing some stuff, he returned to the bedroom. You were still on the bed where he left you, glaring at him.

“I need to clean your cut. Promise you won’t kick?”

“I promise I’ll kick your teeth out!”

He smiled at you affectionately, unable to help himself. “Thought of murdering me always gets you hot, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Come closer. Give me a knife and I’ll show you how hot.”

He sauntered forward. “I’m trying to help you here.”

“By sneaking into my apartment and tying me up? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The fight earlier had messed up your hairstyle, leaving your hair wild and messy. His fingers ached to run through the strands, the smell of your shampoo etched into his brain. Extending his hand, his finger twirled around one of the loose curls when you suddenly tried to bite him. He grinned at you, enjoying the burst of angry red that spread through your cheeks. “Still not ready to play nice?”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

The top button of your shirt had ripped off, drawing attention to the curve of your breasts peeking out from underneath. Fuck. Your tits. He remembered the sensation of sinking his face in your cleavage, the way your breath shuddered when he was sucking on your nipples.

“Billy!”

Snapping out of his daze, his gaze trailed up to meet yours. “You’re coming home with me.”

You stared back at him defiantly. “Fuck you! I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I’ll slit my own wrists before I go anywhere with you!”

He cupped your face with both hands. “No, sweetheart. It’s that fuckboy who’ll die if you don’t.”

You froze immediately, concern flooding your face. It was a punch to his gut, seeing how much you cared about the fucker.

“What did you do to him?”

Billy clenched his jaw. “He touched you, after I warned him not to. He had to pay for that.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” You swallowed an audible gulp. “Did you hurt him?”                       

He knelt down on the floor and started inspecting your knee. “He’s alive. For now.”

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice cracked for just a second, enough for him to realize the turmoil you were in.

He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, grateful you weren’t pushing back this time. With a gentle touch he washed your bruised knee and tended to your cut. When you grimaced from the sting of the rubbing alcohol, he blew soft air on the wound, trying to ease your pain. He sensed your eyes following his every gesture, waiting for him to make his next move.

You were perched on the bathroom counter, your hands and feet still bound. Standing up to his full height once he bandaged your knee, he met your gaze. Whatever you were feeling a few seconds ago had dissipated, replaced by a glacial glint in your eyes.

Your voice was filled with contempt when you spoke next.  “So what’s the plan? You gonna use Calvin against me?”

There were so many things he wanted to say to you. That he was sorry. That he’d fucked up. That he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Yours was the face he saw every time he closed his eyes, and the person he dreamt about when he wasn’t haunted by nightmares. With you he felt alive, hopeful, and more than just a ball of rage that dominated his life for so many years. But he didn’t say any of that. He couldn’t. Because it scared the fuck out of him. It was so much easier to show you instead.

He tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, and this time you didn’t try and bite him. Progress. And then he cupped your face with one hand, thumb stroking your cheek, while the other hand slowly caressed the skin under the plastic around your wrists. “Fuckboy will be fine as long as you do what I say.”

“Is this because of Alistair? If he’s-”

“I don’t give a fuck about him. He has nothing to do with this.”

“Then what difference does it make? I don’t have to move back. We can stay married and live separate lives.”

He peered at you closely, studying every inch of your face. “That’s not what I want.”

Agitated, you glared at him. “What do you want then?”

His mouth closed over yours.

He didn’t intend for it to be a rough kiss, opposite in fact. He wanted to show you another part of him, reveal to you that he wasn’t always an asshole, but as usual his plans had a way of fucking up. Instead of tenderness, he kissed you with a raw urgency, venting all the pent-up frustration of missing you. And you returned his kiss with equal ferocity, tongue against tongue, teeth clashing, not letting him slow down, driving him crazy with your mouth. His hands wrapped around the back of your head. Holding you tight, he pulled you close. A muffled moan escaped you, and it suddenly dawned on him your hands were still cuffed. Feeling guilty at your discomfort, he pulled away. Panting for air, he pressed his forehead against yours while pulling out his blade from the inside of his jacket. You were equally out of breath, your eyes a whirlwind of firestorm before you closed them.

Just for a moment it was like the last night he’d spent with you. No pretensions, no fucking games, only the two of you consumed with each other. He reached for your wrists, dropping soft kisses on where the zip ties had left an imprint. And you let him, not struggling with him or pushing back.

“Is this part of the deal, Billy?” The softness in your voice directly contradicted the hardness in your gaze. “If I fuck you, you’ll let him go?”

Your words disgusted him, making him sick to his stomach. “I don’t need blackmail to get you to fuck me.”

You snickered, shaking your head. “Oh, that’s beneath you? But you have no issues blackmailing me to live with you?”

He cocked his eyebrow. “I’m playing the only card I have left at this point.”

You stared back at him with an incredulous expression. “Seriously? My life is a game to you? Calvin-”

“Stop fucking saying his name!” Billy spat out.

He tried. He tried to stay calm and not lose it, tried not to think about you fucking that asshole. Tried to tell himself you deserved to move on after how he ended things - but he couldn’t stand it anymore. Couldn’t stand the thought of you touching that fucker, sleeping with him, laughing with him. Talking with him. It was driving Billy crazy. Did you hold him close at night and tell him about your day? Did you rest your head on his chest until you fell asleep? Did you let him hug you? Comfort you? Did you let him love you?

Fuck no. No. No. No.

“You’re my fucking wife!” He grasped your face, squeezing your cheeks. “You're the only thing that kept me sane these last few months. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t know how to anymore. I don’t know how to be me again. You’re all I fucking think about!”

You froze, eyes brimming with shock.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything.” He pressed his temple against yours, pleading with you. “Give me a chance- “

‘So you can treat me like trash again?” You shook your head. “No. I’m done with you.”

Your voice trembled, you were struggling to contain your emotions. Instinctively he knew your cold façade would be up again, that there was no point in forcing you to talk at this time.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Billy stepped back. As quick as you, he composed himself outwardly. “You might be done. But I’m not.” He knelt down and cut off the zip tie that bound your feet together. “We need to get going. I’ll help you pack your things.” Rising to his full height, he leveled you with a somber expression. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Or Calvin’s gonna lose a lot more than just his fingers.”

He turned around and walked out of the bathroom.

A/N - Um, thoughts? As always, thank you for the wonderful feedback. I truly appreciate all of the comments and messages I receive; it's what inspires me to keep writing!

[oceanlipgloss]

POTION

RAFAYEL.

+ about: one summer noon, Rafayel becomes an unwilling part of the cat population. I did him dirty; can he can get an F in the chat?

+ warnings: humour slaughterhouse aka very, very lame jokes (crack is the foundation, fluff is the cement)

What a diabolical creature.

Huge eyeballs, bigger than jellyfish. Staring at him. The eyes of a serial killer or a netherworld monster. Pointy ears, sharper than traffic cones. Eavesdropping on every sound. Gnashing teeth, the ugliest smile he had ever seen.

And now he, too, looked like that.

A creepy cat.

The tiny doodle watched him from its high vantage point on the white wall. Not just a cat, but a smiling cat. Not just a smiling cat, but a demon drawn in black marker. Very hard to ignore.

He could not bear to glance at the mirror. For the first time. Plum fur shot up in spears and spikes, likening him to a downy porcupine.

A glass of soda floated into his thoughts.

Cool droplets flowing down his throat.

Lying down on the floor.

Falling asleep in the summer sun.

Waking up.

A gnarly cat.

Potion.

Somehow, somehow, he had drank a potion, shimmering and clear.

Thirst sure has its perks.

Where had that stuff even come from?

Familiar in flavour—bubbles and lime.

Even as an artist, he thought about how that was all much too surreal. Absolutely wild. Truth be told? A concoction of nightmares combined.

Violet cat. Nice colour palette, but useless paws. Unable to hold a paintbrush. What meaning was there to life now? Would she accept him for he had become?

The insecurities were a terror.

Dramatic as he was—rightfully so, for once—he had screamed at the top of his lungs. The only sound that rang out in the messy studio was the loudest cat noise he had heard to date, however.

A shrill meow.

This had to be some sort of eldritch curse or divine punishment, didn’t it?

The God of all cats was avenging those backstabbing furballs for the endless slander he had subjected them to. It’s all his doing, yeah?

When plagued by anger or fright, cats hiss. Now a wrathful cat himself, he hissed as well.

Familiar hands, scooping him up.

So weird.

Her palms, warm against his sunlit fur, but also much, much bigger. To his newfound bundle of a form, that was too unfamiliar; she had always been shorter, smaller.

No sparkle of surprise.

Was the potion her plan all along? Start location: sinister doodle on the wall.

Nothing made sense.

Actually, naked walking jellyfish, tree-climbing sea turtles, and grass-eating sharks would’ve all been way more credible.

Inspiration!

Facing his reflection wasn’t an option, but he so desperately wanted to make sure this wasn’t a figment of a sick hallucination, so he almost had the urge to say, ‘draw me like one of your French cats’ just to see if he had now really become a member of the world of felines—but his tongue could only muster cat-voice.

Instead, a pop of colour gleamed in his mind.

He wanted her attention, and cats like affection. Why not make use of the situation? Blame it on the catty qualities later.

With shiny eyes he would have liked to ask, ‘would you still love me if I was a cat?’

The perfect answer and just what he was longing for.

Warm fur pressed against her neck. Fingertips tickled a soft stomach. Giggles chimed in pointed ears. Mellow weight on her chest.

So much doting. Her lips kissed the tip of his eraser-pink nose. Compliments poured onto his head like paint in all colours.

He felt really, really hot. Fur, glee, embarrassment.

Cats can’t blush, but in his flustered mind cherry-red mingled with plum-purple on the tips of his ears to gleam like crystal powder.

An unusual picture.

Steady, steady. Her heartbeat was steady. His heart raced into next week. It was worse now, though. Cat hearts double up the speed of human ones. Drowsy with sunlight.

What a long, long day.

One good thing came out of it.

Love. So much love.

Once this nap ends, will he have two legs again?

Summer sunshine would butter his studio pale yellow and bright white by then. He would be sprawled out on the floor, sketches scattered all over. The cat would continue to stare at him from on the wall.

The cat.

Everything was that weird cat’s fault. Those big, evil eyes followed him as he painted, stalking his every movement and creation. He hated it so, yet did not have the heart to erase it. She had climbed up there and drawn that little traitor.

What a silly, hideous thing, haunting his subconscious.

What a diabolical dream.

+notes: dude, I can't believe that my first Rafayel fic is...*flailing hands* this. Something so silly...listen, memes and silly crap occupy an entire apartment complex in my brain, but what did I actually just write? No fucking clue. 0. Null.

All I know is that this is my first ever crack fic. And at the time, I thought it would be funny. Now I don't know if my opinion still stands. I merely wrote this in 3hrs 17mins. Not even a 4hr timeskip between coming up with the idea and writing it. I was that excited for the crack.

Was it worth it? No, maybe. Yes, perhaps. Idek. However, I'm not sorry for making fun of Rafayel, of course. Affectionately bullying him and being sadistic happen to be favourable pastimes of mine. I love him, bro.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

okay so this my first time request but i came by your blog and i really enjoyed your writing so — 😭

ahem, anyways i was wondering if i could have some boyfriend hcs with scaramouche and tighnari….

(heizou too if you write for him, i didn’t see him on your list but like, yeah.)

anyways ty 🤍🤍🤍

Indeed I shall, my darling. For Heizou I am still getting to know him and see how I can portray him accurately, however for you my dear. I shall test out my skills upon him and see if it is realistic or not to the character. It still needs work, but FOR YOU MY ONE AND ONLY HALF FAIRY, HALF MERMAID, HALF SQUIDWARD BELOVED. I shall. :)

Scaramouche ┍━━━━━☟━━━━━━━☟━━━━━━━┑

He is the type of boyfriend to show his affections through his actions, not his words. He would hug you, kiss you, and rub your back all while calling you an idiot or pretend to complain about it.

He cares about you very much, however, of course he won’t show it, he wants to be seen as someone who can take care of you, not as a weak man who you have to cater to.

He is very bad at communicating and would expect you to read his mind, and you guys would get into arguments about it, however, eventually he will acknowledge his wrong doings.

He has baggage, so he can be insecure and jealous when he sees you with someone who is more capable of taking care of you, then him. It's worse that they speak nicely to you, compared to him, who speaks with sharp tongue.

His love language quality time, he wants you to focus on him and only him. Put your phone away, and ignore everyone for an hour, as you watch a movie with him, or cuddle and talk to him.

They way he expresses his love to you, is through acts of favor. So he would often do favors for you, and enjoy it. - "You need me to buy milk? Alright, anything else?" - "You need help carrying these boxes? Okay, give me a moment." - "You need me to defeat this boss for you? Okay, just rest, I'll handle it." - Want me to take over cooking for the night? I know you like my mac and cheese recipe so I'll make that for you."

He doesn't really care if you guys have children or not, he definitely will struggle to have the patients with them at first, but once he finds a routine then he will be fine. However, his tongue doesn't change, so he will speak harsh to his children but lecture them but his actions will be gentle.

He would always try to find ways to make you comfortable without you knowing. - Your bed is suddenly not giving you back pain? He fixed it. Because you complained about it. - Some weird guy suddenly leaves you alone? He dealt with it. - The favorite clothes you lost, suddenly is back in your closet? He turned the whole house upside down to find it, because you were sad that you lost it.

Tighnari┍━━━━━☟━━━━━━━━━━━☟━━━━━━━┑

He will refer you to you as his "precious flower" or his "Beloved Sumeru Rose"

His tail will sway a bit when happy to see you, however he would try not to show his excitement too much, he wants to be someone that you take seriously.

He would tease you in moments, but he would often smile at you.

He would often draw you when he his thinking about you, draw you with flowers in your hair, or with clothing he thought would look nice on you.

He would often take walks with you, and night walks with him is where you guys can bond and relax.

His love language is physical touch, the more you touch him, the happiest he is. Rub his head, rub his back, rub him anywhere. Hug him, and kiss him. Hold him close to you. He enjoys it.

He would know how to comfort you during your nightmares or when you are overthinking, as he uses logic to help explain to you that these things would never happen. He never explains it on a cold hearted manner, but he explains it gently while holding your hand. However, if you are still distraught and still insisting, he would actually listen and look into it. Again, anything is possible so he has an open mind.

He would dress up for you, on dates. Wear his best Sumeru outfit, when taking you out to eat, or showing you around nice places. He would show that he has dedicating to you.

He expresses his love to you, through verbal affirmation, which will go hand in hand with physically touching you. - "You’re doing great, my love. I am so proud of you." - "What's wrong? Did he bother you? No worries love, let me handle him." - "My love, my precious love, do you know how much I love you? I know this relationship is young, but I do want to spend my entire life with you." - "Honey, don’t forget your journal for the journey, okay? In case you do, I'll have it here for you. I love you."

He would definitely want a lot of children with you, however, if you don’t want children, he wouldn’t mind. He cares a lot about you, and only you. No imaginary children will affect that. You are his life, as his species values their partners quite a lot. So your needs come before their own. As long as they have you, they are already happy.

Heizou┍━━━━━☟━━━━━━━━━━━☟━━━━━━━┑

He would tease you a lot, like a lot. He is more of a gentle teaser though, as he would tease you about your efforts for him or you blushing for him. - "Oh? Is someone blushing because I took a my shirt off? No? Hmm, a mystery I must solve later, meet me in my bed later, okay? hehe" - "Haha, you are so cute when you are focused like that. What do you mean I am embarrassing you? You are my future wife after all, I need to embarrass you.~" - "Oh? Quite a yearning hug you have on me here. Perhaps...you'd like me to show you one of my yearning hugs in return?"

He would often hug you and put his arm around your waist, not because he is possessive of you, or has jealousy, merely because his hands have a home there and it's just routined for him. Or else, he won’t know where to put his hands.

He would often kiss your hand when he wants to thank you in anyway.

He would buy you gifts as well.

You two would lay down on the bed, as he would go on and on about his toughest cases or the most scariest cases. You will see a twinkle in his eyes as he passionately talks about it.

When you guys argue, you will mostly likely always lose the argument, as he his master debater and investigator so his skills would come out, in mentioning points and factual things that would make you realize that you had your faults too. Of course, this will upset you more, and you would ignore him for a bit. And of course, he would feel bad and apologize, along with admitting he was wrong on his part too.

He would often share things with you, as it is routined for him to do that too. He has candy? Takes half and gives it to you without looking. He has cookies? Gives you one and eats one without even batting an eye.

If you cry, it breaks his heart. He would desperately try to calm you down and cheer you up. He hates seeing you in distress, he wants you to have a comfortable life, a peaceful life. Due to the cases he deals with, he wants you to live peacefully and worry free. It makes him feel happy knowing you aren’t the one dealing with the stress compared to what stress he deals with on his job as a detective.

Speaking of detective, He figures you out easily, he sees through you, your behaviors, and is very observant of you. So when you hide something, he knows. When you try to be normal, he knows. He would point it out. He knows exactly how to comfort you as well.

[katiesharms]

34 & 65, jakebradley, xo

(ignoring the fact that you did numbers and not dates :squint:) 34/feb 4 2023 - a sunday kind of love

and i'm on a lonely road that leads to nowhere/i need a sunday kind of love

bradley's first (and probably, if he's being honest with himself, only) memory of father is hazy. warm, dreamy, diluted, like it's been soaked in sepia. if he thinks hard enough, he remembers (or invents) his dad's curly hair, his long limbs, his boisterous laugh, all of it wrapped around his mother as they sway in the kitchen.

for a while, to him, that's what love was. holding your wife in the middle of your kitchen on sunday morning, swaying clumsily to the record playing from the living room, not caring about the pancakes getting burnt. bradley never cared that his breakfast was late and messed up; he wanted to live in that love that blanketed their whole house.

he spent a lot of his 20s chasing that feeling, that half dream, half fantasy of the perfect life. fell into and out of beds and relationships and had his heart pulverized by jake seresin.

(here is where jake would always interject. "i think we were equal opportunity pulverizers. we liked to take turns," he'd say, with a wink lascivious enough to make bradley shiver).

love, after that, became even more of a pie in the sky. just another thing out of bradley's reach. until it's not.

post-mission (pretty much immediately post, as soon as bradley walks out of medical), jake corners him against a wall and kisses the lights out of him. and then he follows bradley home when they dock, and never leaves.

bradley keeps waiting for it to be difficult. for it to fall apart like it did the first time. for jake to look at him and decide he isn't worth it, isn't worth bradley's high walls and terrible communication, worth the nightmares that predate the mission but have only gotten worse since, worth the stupid arguments they still can't stop getting into.

but no matter what, bradley wakes up every morning to see jake's sleeping face. it seeps in slowly, through early mornings and late nights, afternoon runs and evenings at the hard deck. bradley pays it no mind but all of a sudden, his life has that dreamy quality that he hasn't experienced since he was 3 years old.

"i love you," jake says first, because he was always the brave one. it's early in this new relationship, but deep into their knowing each other.

"i—" bradley starts and stops, the words like a brick in his throat. after a pause, jake speaks again.

"i know," he says softly, "take your time."

he's spent so much time thinking that this kind of love wasn't in the cards for him. that he used it all up too early on, soaking in it like a greedy, ungrateful child. bradley had come to think of love as something that doesn't come easy.

but maybe it is easy. maybe it's letting jake try to distract him while he makes their eggs. it's listening to jake complain about the same pilot he's been complaining about for weeks, humming in commiseration and feeling at home as jake's voice blankets him. it's wrapping his arms around jake and swaying with him in the kitchen, the same etta james record his father would play every sunday on.

[romanarose]

Gift Giving with the Triple Frontier Boys

Triple Frontier Master List All fanfic masterlist

Thoughts on the TF boys expressing their love for you through gift giving, and you returning it.

Acts of Service Word of Affirmation Quality Time Physical Touch

Warnings: Mentions of smut, pregnancy, nightmares involving death, drinking problem, addiction/rehab, past child abuse (sorry Millers lolololol), Not very smutty this time, lo siento.

************

Santiago Garcia

After Santi and Fish went back for the money in the canyon, they split it with the Millers, but that still eft each with a hefty sum. Anyone who grew up poor like Santi knows its easier to make money when you have money, and after a few smart monetary choices, Santi found himself in a good financial position. He still considered what he has somewhat blood money, although you frequently remind him that it was Tom that fucked it all up, so Santi makes sure to donate to charities close to his heart. However, Santiago adores you, and he'd me amiss if he didn't use that money to spoil you. Maybe it's dresses, maybe it's leather pants that show off your ass, maybe it's you're clothing taste is more simple but he indulges you in t-shirts from Star Wars, Doctor Who, and what's the stupid Marvel show? Moon Night? Whatever, he'll get you the goddamn Moon Night back back. If you like make up, fancy head coverings or wigs, he's got you, anything to make his girl feel special. You go to a concert, merch tent is yours. You don't even bring it up half the time, he'll catch you staring at a dress at the mall or 'recently viewed' will pop up on amazon and he'll just get it, as a treat. And if you have a fancy event, a quince, you're nieces first communion, or an Afghan wedding with multiple clothing changes, you bet you'll have the best. Oh, and you BET your wedding dress or suit will be the one you want, and you're ring? On point.

*

You and Santi took things slow. Maybe it's for religious reasons, maybe it's because you have had bad experiences in the past, or maybe you just wanted too, but you hadn't had sex yet. You'd slept over, keeping things modest but intimate, him holding you close and yeah, you maybe had to ignore a boner or two. He couldn't help it, it was biology, but he was nothing but respectful. However, when the time came you found you were ready.... you had a plan. It was his birthday, and after a very loud, very fun event with all his family and his friends ending with Will half-dragging his brother out because Benny kept saying goodbye for 40 minutes, you found yourselves alone.

"I've got a surprise for you" You gently push Santi back, lifting up your dress to reveal a lingerie set that made you look good and feel comfortable.

The dumbfounded look on his face and immediate bulge in his pants made it all the more impressive that he gulped, and stuttered out an "are you sure? you're absolutely sure?" before diving in on you. It wasn't the only gift you had gotten him, of course, but your body might be his favorite.

Benny Miller

It had been a bad day, but when you called Benny on your break and asked how he was, it was clear Benny was having a rough day at the gym. Benny vented to you, you listened, offered advice where he wanted it and allowed him to complain about the little things that nothing could be done about where he needed. By the time your hour was up, your food was ate and both of you felt better. Even just talking to your husband brightened your day, even if you didn't tell him that you were frustrated. However, work continued to suck ass. When you get home, however, you start on diner because you know Benny had a tough day and food made him happy. When he came home, however, he had a few things. In one had was his keys, water bottle and barely gasping a case of beer (jesus christ his hands are large) and in the other, a Hostess fruit pie from the gas station that he handed to you. "What's this for?" You ask, surprised by the treat. Benny shrugged. "I saw it and thought of you. You said you used to eat them a lot as a kid?" You did... you said that... about 3 years ago you made an offhand comment, and he remembered. Benny was nearly tackled by the hug, and you could not imagine having a better partner in this life.

*

Benny was a silly lil guy. Not to say he couldn't be serious. He was there for Frankie through his addiction, but Benny's best support was offered through his shinning personality, like visiting Frankie in rehab and making him laugh. Likewise, he was there to listen and genuinely help you with problems, he was fiercely defensive of you, and was serious when needed, but what you loved about him was how much you genuinely had fun together. None of this is to say Benny doesn't have his struggles. You told him he needed to get him drinking under control before you would date him, (although you supported him with that even through the 'friends for now' stage), and Benny clearly had PTSD from serving and from his childhood that he tended to bury under her sunny exterior. You notice him slipping, his nightmares getting worse; nightmares of his dad killing Will, someone hurting you or Santi or Fish, Tom dying... you figured you needed to make him laugh. So, you sit him down and gift with him with a pair of boxers that say "this ass belongs to-" with your name on it. Benny's face splits into a wide, genuine grin. He laughs so damn hard and hugs you so damn tight you feel a little bit better. You tell him you got him a gift because you've noticed he's been struggling lately, and open up a conversation about what's been going on... and maybe, if he's up for it, talking to a doctor at the VA about getting on some anti-nightmare medication.

Frankie Morales

When Frankie came into your life, you knew before you ever dated that he had a daughter, and none of that phased you. She was a good kid, and you had gotten along well with her. Frankie was slow to introduce you, of course, not wanting women in and out of her life, but as you and Frankie grew closer you met her, and were thrilled to be spending more time with her as Frankie thought was appropriate. It was still early in your relationship when you came over to his house only to find Fransico Julio Morales Andala with a tiara on his head, covered in glitter, sitting at a kid sized table with craft goods stone across it... girl dad life. You smiled fondly at him, and chuckled as him and Adrianna yelled at you to wait in the living room until they were done. So, you sat on your phone listening to the father-daughter pair whisper and giggle and argue before they bring their finished product. A Valentines day card, ugly as all hell... but so clearly both of them. Franki drew a helicopter, Adrianna drew a castle, Frankie drew you and him holding hands, Adrina drew a dead "bad guy"... you weren't sure what that head to do with Valentines Day but oh well. And together, they had glued on dried flowers, lace, Star Wars stickers, and a fuck ton of glitter for you. It was entirely too much, would glitter-ize you and your apartment for weeks... but god dammit you were crying and now you had to frame it.

*

You were nervous, as far as fathers days go... Frankie wanted this, he said he did, but less than 2 months of marriage seemed... soon? You did the math, and he knocked you up your wedding night. Still, you wanted to give Adrianna a sibling... Frankie had spent the day with her, but you really wanted to talk to him alone, and you really thought today was fitting... so Santi took her for diner. He was a father figure to her, after all. It took a while, but halfway through diner was when Frankie asked, worried, 'Something wrong, hermosa?' You couldn't wait any longer, and told him you were pregnant with his child. You watched as the shock filled him, tears misting his eyes before he came over to your side of the table and pulled you to your feet. Frankie picked you up, making you squeal and both of you giggled as he spun you around before setting you down on the floor.

"Best father's day gift ever"

Will Miller

It was a military ball, and although you tried to keep it lowkey... you were thrilled. You hardly got a chance to dress up, and when was the last time you wore a dress this fancy? Will knocked on the door before entering when you called him in, a move you thought was a bit silly considering you were married and it was his savings that bought the house, but Will thought you should be allowed your privacy either way. You turn from where you sit in the vanity mirror, finding Will blue eyes and soft smile trained on you. 'You look beautiful, princess. I'll never get tired of telling you, every damn day.' He kissed the top of your hair, very careful not to mess up your up-do and walked over to his drawer. He began a preamble that you didn't have to wear it if you had other jewelry plans, but you but him off. Whatever he gave, you'd proudly wear. Will walked back behind you, and you are struck once again by how such a large man can manage not to look the slightest bit intimating. not you at least. But maybe that's because you know him, and despite whatever he had done on the military, he was the gentlest soul you had ever met in your life. He pulled out a neckless, stunningly sparkly and bright, with your favorite jewel and fucking hell it must've been expensive. He clasped it behind you, sealing the act with a kiss on your neck, a hint of what no doubt will happen later tonight... And you will, in fact, be showing this neckless of all night, just as Will is going to show off you.

*

"Honey, I'm home!" You call as you step in and Will beckons you to the guest room where he is fixing the closet door. Will turns around to greet you, setting the tools down so he could take you in for a kiss, something you two promised to try and do every day, when he saw what you were holding, flowers. Confused, he kisses your cheek. "Are we visiting your grandma today, honey?" He asked, and when you said no, he had a few more possible reasons for the flowers, even so far as to ask if this was your way of reminding him he forgot an important date. You laugh, as if he would ever. You finally tell him, "They're for you, silly." The man was too stunned too speak. "For me? Why?". You explain you don't need a reason, that he's your special man and he deserves it. You explain how you were driving home and saw a pop up flower stand, and realized that your kind, thoughtful, gentle, hardworking husband had probably never gotten a bouquet in his 30 something years of living. And what a shame that was! He deserved flowers. Pretty ones, too. Despite the strength he held, and the way his arms wrapped tight around you, he knew his strength and did not squeeze to hard... but it was a firm hug, and as he buried his face in your neck, you swore it was a little wet as he whispered "thank you, beautiful." Even in his childhood, no one had treated him with such soft kindness as you did, and he'd do everything in his power to not let you go.

*************************

SORRY THE LAST ONE TOOK FOREVER i was uninspired but the oscar isaac discord im in helped me get on my feet.

If you liked this one make sure to check out the other 4 love languages!

@whatthefishh @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @kittyofalltrades @luciannadraven33 @littlenosoul @jake-g-lockley @milkymoon2483 @howaboutcastiel @miraclesabound @bitchyglitterfox @missdictatorme

and bc

[kaija-rayne-author]

It's so sad. Bioware has been a staple, almost, of RPGs for a long time.

But them laying off so many people (it's 125ish over the past handful of months) really doesn't increase confidence in the company.

Even though DA:DW is in Alpha, it's going to affect how many people buy the game. Because they'll think that many layoffs will affect the quality of the game. Average people have little idea about how games are made. Alpha means it's in primary testing, meaning the game is mostly finished.

Could they have shot themselves in the foot better if they'd tried?

Fans are pissed and swearing they're done with Bioware.

A lot of fans.

And I have a Kassandra like feeling that DA:DW is Bioware's last chance as a company.

So, their behavior toward employees = loss of consumer confidence = fewer people buy Dreadwolf = Bioware sinks and we don't get any more Dragon Age after DA:DW.

Don't execs have business degrees and such?

If so, why is my ridiculous ass better at cause/effect for economics and business than they are? I've never even taken a business class.

What exactly do the execs do to earn those obscene paychecks?

Anyway, I really think it comes down to this; if we want more Dragon Age past Dreadwolf, we'll have to ignore Bioware's behavior and buy the game regardless.

And... I don't know how many people will do that. I don't even want to do that. I've boycotted companies for far less.

Edit Saturday Aug 26, '23

I need to add some thoughts to this.

Unfortunately, negative chatter will likely affect whether they release the game at all. Which sucks for people who do want it. (It's rhetorical, but it’s almost finished, why wouldn't they release it?)

I've read that Andromeda DLCs were canceled because of that. I won't be boycotting. I'm unhappy with bioware, but there's much more to consider.

For me, I've been thinking and reading what those laid off have said. It's them that are most affected, after all. It's not about bioware as much as it's about the people who no longer work there who poured years of time, love, and passion into Dreadwolf.

I don't like bioware, but at the same time, I refuse to shat on the creatives who loved and made Dreadwolf. I know, personally, how much of yourself you pour into a creative work. I'd be heartbroken if people boycotted something I'd worked on and truly loved. Even if I were no longer working at the company. I believe the devs can't even talk about it, unless/until it's released due to NDAs. Can you imagine putting years of your life and creativity into something only to have people boycott it?

And to use your status at the company as the excuse?

Kirby has said she hopes people love it as much as she does. She's one of the most affected and she's still hoping people play and love it.

And to be calmly realistic, Bioware isn't the main source of the issue. EA demanded a layoff of 800 people across all their holdings. Corporate greed. I doubt bioware would've made such awful choices without that pressure.

So even though my kneejerk reaction is to boycott, I'll buy it and play it for the creatives who poured everything into it.

Is it right? Hell no. There's no ethical consumption in a late stage capitalist nightmare world. But I'm also not going to punish the people who loved it enough to make it.

Y'all do you, but I wanted to share my more measured thoughts on the matter.

[vendetta-if]

𝓱𝓲 💖 (sorry for this asdkjfhjijhj)

im back and i have returned (to everyone's dismay) and i come bearing gifts - i have found the pages where i had my vendetta sequel mc drawn in!! 😈

here's my first doodle of rei when i was designing him - i didnt have the proper markers to colour him in but i used what markers i could get my hands on at the time lol but i did fuck up his face :( (closeup)

now i have lots of doodles i drew alongside this fullbody design of his and without further ado >:)

here are some facts i wrote about him 😊 as well as rei decorating his helmet :D though i'll write it down here if you can't read my messy ass handwriting (sorry about that hsjdhsd) »»————- ★ ————-«« FACTS ABOUT REI 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO: ➭ loves all things cutesy and colourful ➭ acts and whines like an actual toddler (because it forces his family to give him attention whenever he's being an actual pain in the ass 💞) ➭ reckless af and hates when people fret over him or protect him (that's his job. 👺) ➭ unironically thinks that blood splatters on his clothes look good on him (rei doesn't care if he's seen covered in blood in public, he can make millions of excuses why it isn't blood >:D) " NO this isn't blood this is paint 😇" " tf did you think this was?? i spilled my kool aid all over my clothes 😪" just to name a few, lol ➭ would honestly sell his soul for a lifetime supply of strawberry milkshakes (this is totally not me projecting myself onto rei when it comes to taro milk tea 💀) »»————- ★ ————-««

now here's another doodle of rei using his blood manipulation powers 😋 also ignore the pencil text below LMAO

so i did mention in my first ask about rei that he loves to explode things- yeah um idk if luka and jackal would give their menace of a son explosives or a grenade launcher if they knew that this is how he'd act with them LMFAOO

i also mentioned that rei makes the best belgian waffles! (send help hes holding me at gunpoint and forcing me to say this) here's rei offering a divine dish of waffles to my vendetta mc, remedy / remi 💕💕 and look at his face! his mouth is practically watering in anticipation to gobble up the waffles! 💗💝💘💓

okay on a side note- i made some small drawings of rei in a different outfit and was actually gonna include this in the ref but i didnt like it because it looked ugly 😭 so i made a poor life decision to cut these two abominations out and now they're on my phone 💟 (closeups)

anyways now here have a drawing of rei as demoman from the hit game tf2!!11!1!11!! 😲😳

(he really looks like a dollarstore demoman lol)

(reference used):

now if you have been on the internet during its baby phase im sure you may understand the reference i used for this doodle 🤭

yknow looking back at this downgraded rip off drawing of the original this is actually a shit drawing LMAO (how tf do you draw flames and smoke pls help 💔) now one thing i like to headcanon about rei is that whenever he starts to get frustrated or is having a hard time with carrying out an assassination he decides to do fuck all and blow everything up with literally anything flammable he could find because no target survives being blown to oblivion! (which happens more often than you think...) i like to think while this is an easy way out for rei, it is an absolute nightmare and a headache for the rest of his family 😌 (they probably would have to deal with unwanted attention because rei doesn't give a shit about keeping a low profile and people may tie him to the Morozovs 🤗 they also may struggle to come up with cover stories as these arson incidents become more frequent - because rei is the type of person who values quantity over quality, where he challenges himself to complete multiple assassinations so he can receive praise from his family 😂🤪 and it also doesn't help that he would rather cut corners and take the easy way out when it comes to his work) luka and jackal: " these fires are getting out of hand, we can't keep doing this... " fucking rei: " DAD 1 AND DAD 2!! LOOK!! THATS ME!! THAT BURNING BUILDING, I DID THAT!! :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD " (reference used):

now moving on to a somewhat ironic drawing, here's a doodle of rei in a raincoat vibing in the rain ✨(aside from overalls, rei loves to wear raincoats - and would rather wear them instead of wintercoats when it's cold LOL) rei is the type of person to prioritize fashion than comfort :(

now here's a crappy drawing of cousin bonding time (rei and remedy) tbh i dont really like this scribble lol - this is just filler because i hated empty patches in my paper 🤡

now, a word from our sponsor; rei himself!! he is presenting his aforementioned homemade waffles in greater detail :) and now, cue the advertisement that totally is not completely false and not just rei's delusional and stubborn ramblings on that he creates the best waffles and that waffle makers are inferior to him ☺️

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Rei's amazing homemade Belgian waffles! ♥ (𝑀𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶 𝓌𝒶𝒻𝒻𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓇!) ♥ 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗲! (𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝) ♥ ♥ 𝗛𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲, 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗹𝗲𝘀 (𝙏𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘, 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 >:( ) ♥ ♥ 𝗖𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗵𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗮𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗿𝘂𝗽 >:) (𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡!) ♥ ♥ 𝟷𝟶/𝟷𝟶 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛! (𝙍𝙚𝙞'𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜! :) ) ♥

i feel like im trying too hard to be funny here, lmao 🤡💀 anyways, here are the full pages of all of the drawings :D

alright so thats finally all i have - if i somehow get my motivation to draw or do literally anything productive ill start working on my vendetta mc's (remedy) ref sheet 👹 (im sorry for this cesspool of cringe again btw LMAO)

Rei sounds so chaotic and kinda sweet at the same time 😆

Also, I love the lil headcanon about the waffle. You can bet that big bro will boast about how his lil brother can make really good waffles to his friends whenever he hang out or has breakfast with them 🥺

Thank you for sharing all these lovely drawings and headcanons about your upcoming sequel MC 🥰

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

"Yuu-Yuu hurt." Part 10

Part 1 | Part 9 | Part 11

"HUMAN!" Those around Sebek jumped. "YOU BETTER WAKE UP THIS INSTANT! You are worrying Lord Malleus, your upperclassmen, your helpless teddy bear, and your friends and peers!"

"What the hell? Is he seriously scolding them?"

"Wait, look."

Despite fuming at the sleeping body, tears were gathering at the corner of Sebek's eyes. "You may have given awful first impressions and you may still do things that are ridiculous, but your efforts and qualities are recognized and highly welcomed. We would not have put efforts to save you if otherwise nor if we didn't think you had a place in Night Raven College, so you better wake up!"

Silver sighs in exasperation, but then smiles fondly. It was nice seeing Sebek care for his friends, even if it was indirect. Lilia shared the same sentiment, chuckling and quietly remarking, "Ah, friendship."

"How beautiful! You wear a mask of indifference yet the compassion you hold for a close friend burns brightly through it!" Rook praises. "It makes me want to share a few kind words too!"

"Here we go," Trey says with a smile and shake of his head.

"Trickster, you have been brought to this world ignorant of its workings and wonders, only having your wits to rely on. You have struggled to make sense of things unfamiliar and were thrown into dangerous situations you could only conjure in nightmares and daydreams. Yet, despite it all, you persisted. You have led us in our most trying moments, guided your other half in academics and every day life, and made a home out of ramshackle. Truly, it is inspiring to see you grow as the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, the student from another world, and a dear friend to us all."

Rook shakes his head sadly. "However, I am dearly sorry that you and your other half had to suffer from jabs from unsympathetic cohorts."

"Frankly, it's unfortunate but unsurprising that Yuu and Grim would be treated rudely. I will say, though, that they've earned their title, and Sebek is right in that they have qualities that allow them to fit into Night Raven College." Vil gives a small smile and kind gaze towards the Prefect. "Even if first impressions were awful."

Ace and Deuce agree too: Yuu has a place in Night Raven, and things wouldn't be the same without them. "We sometimes cause trouble for them, even though we don't mean to," Deuce says, "but I'm thankful that they're still willing to hang out with us."

"Yeah, it's a miracle how much patience they have for you and Grim," Ace says slyly.

"Hey, don't pretend you don't cause trouble for them!"

"Before you two start bickering, could you also say how much you appreciate Yuu as your best friend?" Grim butts in.

The card soldiers' faces pinken. "H-hang on, that's an embarrassing thing to say!" Ace quickly says. "Can't we just leave it as someone we like hanging out with?"

"And we can't forget that they've proven they got what it takes to be in this school, even if they don't have magic. That's enough to say, right?" Deuce looks at the faces around him, only seeing amused smiles.

"But neither of you are denying what Grim said," Jack points out, smirking.

"Oh yeah?" Ace steps up to him. "Well, in case you've forgotten, you're also Yuu's best friend."

Now it was Jack's turn to get flustered. He started rubbing the back of his neck, muttering, "They just like to invite me to things because we're in the same year."

"Seriously? Why do you think you're part of the First Year Squad for then?!"

"It has 'First Year' in the name. Why else do you think I thought that?"

"You're dipping too much into the lone wolf schtick," says Grim, rolling his eyes a little. "Do you remember what the Prefect told us the last time we had game night? I don't think they would have told just anyone."

". . . Can't say I disagree."

"Yeah! And, you know, you almost always say yes to hanging out with them and us. I wouldn't be surprised if you have some nice things to say about Yuu." Grim was smirking, paws on his hips and looking at Jack expectantly.

Jack sighs deeply. "Something tells me you won't let me off unless I say something. All right. It would be disappointing if they can't come back to school. They have good morals and I appreciate that, even if they pull tricks sometimes. I can appreciate their dependability too and that they're genuine in looking out for their people." Jack didn't seem to realize he was smiling.

"I'd like to say something too," Epel says. "They've always been welcoming every time I went to Ramshackle. It kind of reminds me of home. Not to mention, they don't judge me harshly if I. . . erm, say anything off."

Ortho excitedly joins in. "They've been really kind to me since their teddy bear introduced us to each other! They've told me so many cool things about their world and I look forward to going on outings with them. I'm happy to call myself their friend!"

"I may not be as close to them as you, Sebek, and our other friends, but their patience and kindness to me has never wavered," Silver says. "They're trustworthy, and I would like to repay them back fully."

"As do I," says Azul. "Although, I believe saving them from their Overblot would be enough for them helping with mine. Still, I have a feeling that even if I couldn't repay them, they would have shrugged it off." A little to himself, he adds, "In any case, I'm still looking forward to hearing their thoughts on the recent field trip."

"Koebi-chan's livened things up since they got dumped here. It'd be a bummer if they couldn't come back," says Floyd.

"I whole-heartedly agree, especially since they enjoyed the mushroom pasta Malleus helped me prepare. I would love to share other dishes with them," Jade says with a pleased smile. He doesn't see his brother's nose crinkle in disgust at the word "mushroom."

"It's so heartwarming seeing youngsters say how much they care about their friend and classmate," Lilia comments, smiling warmly. "I think I'll say a piece too. Yuu, it has been refreshing to have someone like you mingle with the students, and I'm not just referring to your magiclessness. You and your teddy bear have imprinted something, whether you realize it or not. When you awaken, I would be glad to share some of my cooking with you as Jade is willing to do."

He ignores the small protests around him. "I know I've said this before, but I must say it again for the situation: thank you for being friends with the dorm leader of Diasomnia and his trusted knights. You have been a wonderful presence to them."

"I want to say my thanks too," Riddle says. "Our first interactions weren't pleasant, but I'm glad you still wanted to be acquainted with me in the aftermath of my Overblot. It was very kind of you and I had and still appreciate it."

"Oh! Me next!" Kalim pipes up. "Yuu, it really is amazing how you can still keep going even though you live in a busted building and on a small budget. You've always been willing to help all of us, but from now on, you should lean on us too. I know I keep saying it, but I mean it when I say that Scarabia is always welcome to you."

"I'll be honest, it baffles me that you keep helping people even though you already have a lot on your plate," Jamil says. "I doubt you need to hear me talking about that again, but at least keep in mind that you can put yourself first and say no."

"What about you, nii-san? Do you have anything to say to the Prefect?" Ortho prompts, causing Idia to let out a strangled noise.

"Ortho, what are you doing, springing that on me???"

"Most of us said something, so now it's your turn!"

"Do I have to?"

"Come now, what would be the harm in saying a few kind words?" Lilia encourages.

". . . Eugh, fine. They're. . . more approachable than most of the normies in the school." After a couple of seconds, he says, "That's it."

"That's so short!" Grim complains.

"You asked me to say something nice and I did. Take it or leave it." What Idia didn't say, though, was that Yuu had a genuine calming vibe that he appreciated. Not many people have that effect. Don't get him wrong, though--he's still bummed out that they won't let him pet Grim.

"Guess it can't be helped," Trey says, shrugging. "Well, I guess I'll say something before anyone asks. Yuu, what I appreciate about you is that you're a good influence on the freshmen, even if it's really tiny. I also appreciate you helping with the baking and trying to stabilize everything, although I've started to realize that chaos happens whenever you're around most of the time. Still, it's great having you around."

Sheepishly, he adds, "This is only my impression of you. I'm pretty sure other people can say much better things about you than I can."

"Come on, Trey, it's a nice impression!" Cater says. "Though, I'd have to agree with you on the chaos part. Other than that, they have pretty good vibes and they're super approachable, not to mention cute and likeable." And a great person to sit in comfortable silence with--them and their teddy bear. No questions asked and seeming to understand him when he comes to them with a low battery. He appreciates it.

"That only leave Leona Kingscholar Ruggie Bucchi, and Malleus Draconia," says Ortho. "Who wants to go next?"

Leona huffs. "Let's get this over with. Your niceness and magicless status makes you stand out like a sore thumb, but we both know you're not entirely nice, even though everyone keeps saying it. You manage to pull off tricks and even dupe Azul; a completely nice person wouldn't do that. You don't need my approval for being a little impressive."

"But basically, they have your approval anyway," Ruggie says.

"I didn't say that, but if you or they want to think so, I don't care. Anyway, it's your turn."

"Hmm. . . I guess for starters, I appreciate them helping me carry leftovers out of the kitchen without asking for something in return. And it's refreshing to have someone who isn't familiar with this world. Sure, they could be secretly judgmental, but they're genuinely open-minded. It's just nice."

"I agree with Bucchi," Malleus says. "Their naivety was what allowed them to approach me without fear, but even after learning of my true identity, they still treat me casually and are willing to invite me to various activities. Their friendship is something I highly cherish."

Grim peers at Yuu's face. "You heard all that, henchman? You got people who like you. But of course, it all wouldn't be complete without me saying my piece. You're a handful henchman, but I wouldn't give you up for any other person. There's no one like you and you're good at what you do, and I recognize that as your benevolent boss."

"Why don't you also tell them that you appreciate them as a best friend?" Ace and Deuce tease, speaking simultaneously.

"Fnya--!" Bickering among the three begin, much to the amusement of half of the crowd. No one notices the teddy bear whispering to the unconscious Prefect.

"Yuu-Yuu is loved by friends very much, and [teddy's name] and Papa love you too!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He's suddenly in the grey space again. Yuu is smiling now and the teddy bear in their arms has a happy face.

"I miss home a lot, but at the same time, I don't want to say goodbye to the friends I made here. I'd be lying if I said they haven't made it bearable to be away from home."

Around Yuu, sepia figures faded into existence, frozen and in various poses like a photo. Upperclassmen, peers, and friends. He saw himself among those faces.

"The people here are so interesting and unique. I really, really like them, and I want to support them and see them grow. That's why I wish to go home and have a way to travel between home and Twisted Wonderland, without any consequence."

Whatever emotion he had, there was an underlying warmth from knowing that someone thought of him in such a kind light (not that he would say it, of course).

[celestiall0tus]

So, let's finally analyze this finale...

I , like many on here, feel that it is time to talk about the finale of Miraculous s5. I personally have had time to sit on it and read some of the views of others in the fandom and let's fully dive into this.

So, let's get the big one out of the way: Adrien. I know a lot of people are upset with the way that he was handled, and I see why. I personally am indifferent, but I see the issues clear as day. Adrien should have been there. He should have been there for the final altercation, but was denied that. Instead, he got to be the classic damsel in distress, a Grimm's fairytale heroine that had no true say in their fate. Yes, Adrien couldn't fight his father since Gabriel had the rings, but Gabriel didn't know that Adrien was Chat Noir. Thus, he could have been there for that fight so long as he was never revealed.

On top of this is the bad writing when it comes to the "nightmares." I had briefly mentioned this before, but didn't fully elaborate. So, allow me to while I blissfully ignore that BS magic was involved. Nightmares in the purest sense are vivid dreams that possess a threatening, upsetting, bizarre, or bothersome quality. What Monarch did would technically count as nightmares being bothersome, but shouldn't have invoked that level of response. I get that magic was clearly involved, but wasn't fully explained, at least to what I took in. As I understand it, he brought forth their worst fears to manifest as "nightmares." This is my personal biggest gripe as nightmares aren't like that. While vivid, they aren't clear cut and to the point. They are vague and terrifying. Like, being chased around a resort full of strangers by a murder that specifically wants to do you harm and you are terrified. Or even you being a serial killer that goes on a rampage, killing children. Or, better yet, a vision of a white-faced demon with a long, trunk like nose trying to invade your sanctuary while you run away in complete terror and before you dive into darkness you hear her ask that you come see her so she can die. Those are nightmares. Not what the show portrayed as "nightmares."

That leads me into Monarch's plan. On paper, it's actually impressive. And worked, but only because of unclear magic rules in effect. As I stated above, I don't remember a mention how the emotions would have been blown out of proportion, just that the nightmares would surface and haunt the people. As such, I find it incredibly irritating that everyone reacted the way that they did. I get brainwashing with technology and that BS, but it just felt so stupid. Like, I get the rest of the world turning on Ladybug and Chat Noir, but Paris? You're telling me that in the whole of Paris, where Ladybug and Chat Noir have been working to protect the people, are that quick to turn on their heroes and Alya is the only one to call bullshit on it? What the fuck? Seriously? Fucking bullshit on all aspects.

I have no thoughts on the fight between Bug Noire and Monarch until the final bit where Bugaboo holds Monarch at gunpoint. I do wonder if Bug was paying attention to all the rings on Monarch's hand and saw the twin rings. If I'm not mistaken (which I may be) those were present during Felix and Kagami's reenactment, so she'd know there was an amok in there, right? She'd know that was Adrien's entire life right there, right? So, I get why Gabriel acted the way he did. On some level, he was keeping his son safe. To a degree, Adrien has been a reason why Gabriel does what he does (even if he is willing to sacrifice his son at certain points and use him like another tool in his arsenal). It's actually poetic that Monarch is able to take advantage of Marinette being a fucking dumbass when she de transforms. Lesson learned, not everyone is trustworthy. There are people that are legitimately out there to get you. I get that she is young, but there you go. Or, well, maybe not.

One gripe I want to get to before something that has always irked me. Gabriel got his wish. A fucking reality altering wish. As much as I'd like to forget that Ephemeral exists, it does and we're left with the fact that is what happens when a wish is made. I was genuinely hoping that it remained contained to the what if scenario, but here we are. Reality has been warped to what Gabriel wanted in the end. A soft reset if you will. I fucking hate this shit. It's not enough that you have to pay a price for the wish. No, we need to rewrite reality on top of that. Fucking bullshit on so many fucking levels that I just fucking can't. Absolute bullshit. I don't fucking care if you let him have the damn wish, just don't fucking add in that it changes all of fucking reality. Like, FUCK!

So, that which irks me. The fact that the fucking kwamis are bound to obey those that hold their jewels. Like, fucking hell. This will always piss me off. These are essentially god like beings that they themselves see as a danger and need to be contained. Like, what the fuck? It annoyed the ever living hell out of me that Plagg and Tikki just had to bend over backward because of this. I get magic and that fucking BS, but I still hate it. If we're going to do this kind of shit, it needs to be better explained. Especially with magic because just saying "Because magic" isn't good enough. With X amount of magic systems, who fucking knows at this point. If you're going to include that shit, you need to actually explain it. And not in the fifth season where you still don't fully explain shit. Maybe they did explain it and I mentally blocked it out, but for fuck's sake, explain shit better!

I want to add in a piece I forgot. The finale could have been great if it tightened the script and series of events. A clear cut explanation for the magic and how the nightmares worked. Potentially allowing Chat to join the final battle. Cutting out all the scenes with the other people just for a reunion of sorts. They ultimately didn't add anything to Bug's final battle except as a distraction. We didn't need Luka knowing kung Fu (as hilarious as it was) we didn't need to see the other heroes from the specials, and we didn't need Bunnix returning if it doesn't help directly against Monarch aside from being a distraction. You can show us one scene of all that and continue on with the day.

That is all for this piece. I will touch on the subject of redemption and abuse as I believe they should be further explored, just not in this post. If you're interested for another L0tus rant, stay tune.

Have a good night everyone.

[originemesis]

@danger-tits-lute xxx

Was that his way of calling her small?! She wasn’t that small! As far as Heavenborn go she was on the smaller side but most of the Winners were her height or even smaller than her… and she was small compared him, she guessed, but all the exorcists were and she certainly wasn’t the smallest exorcist! She was overthinking. She was used to his teasing enough by now to know he’d say anything to get a rise out of her. “I’m. Fine.” She wouldn’t give it to him, she kept her voice flat and unbothered. She gathered the least wrinkled and messy looking robe she could find and ignored him all the way to his bathroom that, thankfully, did not look too much like a war zone. She looked at herself in his mirror; she looked ridiculous! She was never this unkempt, especially around him. It was so embarrassing. To her side there was a small hand towel, seemingly untouched from the last time it was put there, only Father knows how long ago. She removed it and used it to dry her hair, folding it and sliding it back into its holder when she was done. Her typically pin straight locks were taking on a wavy and frizzed quality as they dried, which wouldn’t have bothered her alone in her house, but she felt self conscious of now. Looking at the robe in her hand she suddenly realized that in order to change into it she’d have to remove her own clothes. Revolutionary thought, but that would mean she’d be naked, in his house, for even a split second. Naked… in Adam’s… her boss’… house. She rethought squeezing herself into the dryer, if only to kill herself. He was never going to let her live this down. She was going to have to live through “Remember when I had you naked in my house babe? That was a good time. Would’ve been better if you stayed that way…” For the rest of eternity. She shivered again; she was chilled to the bone. She would have to bite the bullet now, it wouldn’t be any better if she did get sick. With a sigh, she peeled each article of clothing off her body one by one and blushed as she slid his robe over her. His house, his bathroom, his clothes… This was some kind of nightmare sent from hell to fluster her. When she was fully changed a little whimper of realization escaped her pursed lips. She was small. His robes were so large on her she might as well had taken a blanket instead. The arms of it covered her hands and the length dragged on the floor. It was extremely comfortable though, and most importantly, warm. She paused, she so did not want to go back out there. After a dragging minute, Lute took a deep breath as she turned the handle and stepped out, holding her pile of wet clothes to throw in the dryer so that she could change back into them as soon as heavenly possible. Along with his oversized garments, she wore a scowl and a bright golden blush across her face.

Noting the lack of reaction to the popped chip bag, he disappointedly shovels a handful of sour cream scented shards against his mask, the inevitable crumbs cascading onto various points of the floor for her bare feet to find later if she ever composed herself enough to claw out of her soaked through garments.

"Oh~kaaaaay, whatever you say, Danger Tits. 'Fine' isn't exactly what conclusion I'd jump to, but hey... if it helps you dodge the 'Adam got me really wet tonight' joke, by all means- be fine~" Well, that one got her to fuck right off quick like to the bathroom, he notes with an amused twirl of his wrist. She really was quite the delight to derail, but he wasn't that overindulgent in harassing her for his shits and giggles that he wouldn't give her a minute to collect herself for round two of his tireless tweets.

Wandering back through the hallway (though not without dragging his talons casually along the side of the wall he knew she hunkered behind) he eventually peels off and into the near black of the living room that blossoms gray with each flash of lightning stealing in through half nudged curtains. Supposing he'd make his company more cozy, he racked his memories with chin taps...now what did chicks look for in a cozy apartment experience again? Oh yeah! Candles. Well he doesn't have any of those. But a bowl he subsequently fills with a crumbled up fast food bag that he then lights on fire with an ignition spark generated between the snap of his talons works just as well. There. All homey!

Satisfied with his bare minimum effort reached, he takes a load off to slouch on the sofa and get back to what he really had been up to until she showed up dripping on his doorstep. With another wink of lightning, he conjured his own flash that deposited his guitar on his stomach as dotingly clasped as a scallop by a river otter. Storms really were the best time to tinker with tunes since the boom of his inner amp could settle in the wake of thunder rattled walls with much little effort exerted on his part. Of course, that meant the pace has to follow the slow crawl of a fading storm's serenade. And the notes he begins to pluck certainly reflect that diversion of his usual soul booster slaughter slams. After another wave of wall rattling courtesy of the sky's rumbling, he muses along with the streams of lazy light following the tip of his pick like the tumultuous tail of a kite.

"... you're toothpicks sliding under finger nails." He croons at the fireball of a candle- it's scent...likely taco bell. "Don't you need a breath of air? 'Cause you're biting-" The jaws of lightning snap down with a ripping crackle outside, and he purrs along with the resounding rumble. "at my head... like starving great whites feeding in the deep e~nd."

[deathbyseventeen]

As the World Caves In

pairing: Dino/Chan x f!reader 

genre: post-apocalyptic, romance/fluff, angst | zombie!au

word count: 521

series: To be Together

chapter warnings: lots of allusions to death and dying

summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.

a/n: it’s uh... it’s been a while since I posted here. I really don’t know what to say except... hi :) take a chance on this fic!  oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy 

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{intro} + {3 days from the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end} 

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The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. There was no wind that day, no windstorms or gentle breezes. But, those particularly sensitive to the world around them noticed a certain stagnant quality over everything. They didn’t know (those who were sensitive to the world), but if they had tried, really tried, and let themselves get lost in the world around them, they would have been able to hear the music in the air. They would have been able to hear the quiet pianos and guitars, the strings and a band, and a voice singing longingly and sadly, all crescendoing into an existence impossible to ignore, and, underneath them all, a symphony of screams just beginning to materialize.

And when the sun finally began to set, and the sky became a painting composed of deep oranges and reds, sleeping televisions startled awake, and forgotten sirens blared to life. The world had officially begun to crumble.

Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. One of his RA’s had run outside, pushing past him, screaming, “Everybody inside! Everybody back inside! Everybody get inside now!”

He had grabbed Chan by the shoulder in his panic and shoved him back into the building seconds before the sirens flooded their surroundings. 

He’d never forget his RA yelling, or the sirens, even after the sound ceased to exist. He couldn’t. He’d be forced to hear them again when fear struck him and as he tried to sleep without nightmares taking hold of him.

You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.

It had been an early day. After six hours of lectures, studios, and labs, your biology professor had let your entire class go an hour early after getting everyone to observe the growing carrots they had planted almost three months ago. 

In an attempt to make do on your New Year’s resolution at least once, you had followed your roommate to the campus gym. You had been running on the treadmill, watching the sun begin to set through the wall-length window (at the same time Chan had been leaving his dorm’s building) when the TVs playing campus news suddenly turned black. A gray popup screen appeared just as the sirens went off-- Mandatory Campus Wide Lockdown. The words went unnoticed by most, however. 

A student worker yelled above the sirens soon after, “Mandatory lockdown! Nobody’s allowed to leave!”

A fight broke out. Cocky, testosterone-filled assholes refused to be made to stay. Among them is your roommate. And, as the glass doors were finally locked behind them, you watched as your roommate left you behind. 

It would only take half an hour before more than half of the others refused to stay put as well.

Soon enough, you’d hear the beginning of the screams that you’d never be able to forget or the panging against the thick windows as people ran into them, even as you delved deeper into darkness, attempting to seclude yourself from the world.

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3 days from the end

[fuckyeaharthuriana]

The Winter King episode 1

First of all I need to add this small warning premise: I read Bernard Cornwell's novels so far ago, and I have been too in the grasp of my adhd to be able to focus on much, so rereading them would be impossible for me at the moment.

I guess this means I will talk about the show from a "ignorant" perspective, without talking too much about the differences between the novel and the actual show. I will judge it for what it is, ignoring that it is part of an adaptation.

Still, I remember a little, so I can confirm that the show starts the same way. Arthur is a bastard, when his father accuses him of having caused the heir's death, he is exiled, thanks to Merlin's intervention. There is also Arthur's sister (no name yet) who pleaded for mercy. Arthur saves a young Derfel and then we are jumped in a timeskip.

The rest of the episode sees some vague establishing of what "the gods" are and Avalon is. It is not clear at all, just the usual "we follow the GODS" (which gods?? who knows). Derfel is not a young adult, and he is in love with Nimue - who suddenly has to choose between the gods and that guy.

It is all very dramatic, she cannot "deny her past", but given we had known these characters for less than 20 minutes, it all falls flat. The episode RUNS, runs like the wind, trying to introduce all the possible plots around Derfel. I barely had the time to breath and understand what main plot the episode was trying to establish, the truth being that I still don't know.

I fully believe it would have simply been better to start directly with Derfel, sees him as a kid, let us know him in the classic way "past-family-what he went through" and then see Arthur save him, and introduce his conflict between wanting to stay at Avalon and wanting to be a warrior, just like Arthur.

The plot instead rolls and rolls - suddenly Queen Norwenna is in labour, Merlin and Morgana rush to her side - and for some reason they ask Derfel to come for the extra help (what extra help is not clear). Merlin has a horrible vision of the future when he holds the baby. Uther is happy to have a new son, but Merlin warns him that the child has a twisted foot and a twisted nature (?? the need to offer both at the same time... weird, very weird). Merlin says he saw the end of the whole of Britan in this kid, but Uther ignores him and cuddles the baby.

I know we are supposed to root for Merlin, and see that Uther is foolish for accepting this baby and not Arthur, his other son, but the truth is - the baby is a baby. I don't think the tv show convey the danger, or managed to get me on the side of Merlin because that baby is so SMALL? and innocent? And the show is so fast we never had the chance to trust Merlin, to see him struggle or actually care for Britain, we do not know much of what he cares for (the vague gods).

Suddenly - so fast - Merlin leaves for Arthur, and Derfel says he is gonna stay there while Nimue goes to Avalon. Derfel found a job (in the span of a night?? few days??) and decided (after a nightmare/flashback) to want to become a warrior. The sad music almost made me laugh, I have to be honest, while looking at Derfel leave Nimue behind, as the show spends zero attempts in trying to making us invested in their relationship.

Also I cannot really judge actors, I am not that good at catching who is a good actor or not, but I could barely hear what Nimue was saying, she always seemed almost drunk.

Luckily, among all characters, Derfel seemed to have the best actor to be able to do quite a lot with little. He had a boyish naive quality that made me believe he DID find work overnight, and he did decide to become a warrior just because Arthur told him. I will definitely try to continue watching, as I am curious to see how they are going to make this Derfel into the Derfel I vaguely remember form the books.

Other positive comments I have for the show would mainly be about how well it convey the arthurian feelings of a historial novel like Bernard Cornwell's. I cannot speak about how historically accurate the clothes, weapons and buildings are, but for an untrained eye like mine they all did a lot to world-build, to give me the idea of a prosperous kingdom on the verge of wars.

[deejadabbles]

Hi! Sorry you had such a tough week. But it's super cool that you're finding engaging in your creative side to be relaxing!

For the description ask ...

I'm quiet usually when you first meet me, but that's just because I'm really trying to make sure I make a good impression. I'm generally a rule-follower so those two things combined got me stereotyped as the "teacher's pet / goody two-shoes" as a kid. My obsessive reading habit and tendency to always carry a book around didn't help lol.

Truth is I'm actually pretty loud and have a very dry, quick wit to me, and I enjoy that same kind of humor. I also really like complex humor. The more layers or references a joke has, the better. I love making others laugh/performing when I feel comfortable, and after years of training I'm pretty happy with my singing voice. I'm a homebody but love spending quality time with friends/family. I also really enjoy getting lost in nature.

I think adults need to learn a thing or two from kids, especially when it comes to acceptance and seeing the world for the magical place it is. It's so sad that so many people lose their wonder when they get older and I really try to hold onto that ... which makes me sensitive and a bit emotional sometimes.

I'm not very coordinated or graceful, but I do pretty well in sports like rock climbing/ horseback riding / skiing. Family and loyalty are the most important things to me, and I think willful ignorance is a mortal sin.

So, which of our dashing troopers would you pair me with?

Thank you dear, hopefully I can actually get some sleep the next few days lol

Echo! First off, family and loyalty? You and Echo both hold those values dear. Doesn't mind that you can come off as a goody two shoes (I mean it's Echo) and shares your sense of humor! Wants to spend hours cuddled near you while you both read, either together or your own books. But above all, I think Echo would adore the way you want to see the wonder and magic in the world, it's something he struggles with and being able to view the world like that through you makes him indescribably happy. (also, plz sing to him when he has nightmares it calms him so much)