#instead of eyeballing it all like last time. worked out ok last time but like

[chaddicus]

hey everybody I'm building a monster 😄

edit: god the original screenshot I posted was so much worse quality than I thought it was. here's an actual copy of the drawing instead lmao

bonus higher quality closeup of the face I accidentally saved separately somehow

[iamaslutforcoffee]

Scary

Chapter One: Romero Brothers Scrap and Salvage

In most circumstances, the older sister tells the younger one to be careful, stay clear of these types of men, don't do this or that.

But here we are, the roles reversed. Instead I'm trying to warn her the same things she tried to warn me of.

Summer is a beautiful girl, always has been..and incredibly smart as well but most of the time she just acts so damn dumb. Like right now.

"Well, you didn't have to drive, Winter. You should have just taken a plan and let me pick you up from the air port."

Sighing, I applied pressure to the gas and speed past multiple cars every direction around me.

"And not able to make a get away if I need to? I'll pass. Thank you. Listen ill be at this scrap yard in about 15 minutes, I'll see you then" I quickly said and hung up.

I finally pulled into "Romero Brothers scrap and salvage", giggling at the fact this is were Summer willingly spent her time. Why? I don't know, nor do I care. I parked away from the mass amount of bikes and got out, fishing for a cigarette in my bag.

"You know, cigarettes can kill you"

I looked up and saw a youngish looking guy sitting on one of the bikes, staring at me. I simply gave him a thumbs up and lit my cig, inhaling the nicotine and exhaling.

"Winter! I thought you quit?" Summer yelled from the porch of the house.

"Yeah, when pigs fly sis." I replied. I leaned against the car as Summer came towards me, more men coming out from the house.

"Why the hell is there a house in the middle of a scrap yard?" I asked her while motioning towards it.

"It's their clubhouse" she shrugged, linking her arm with me.

"Ah. Ok. So why am I here for a party again? I could've stayed in charming for a party." I exhaled the smoke again whilst eyeballing a couple of the guys on the porch. Their kuttes all had various patches, but the main one said Mayans MC. Wait... I know them! Well, of them. Jax worked hard to repair the relationship with the rival MC.

"Well.. uhm... oh! EZ, baby.. come here. Let me introduce you to everyone Winter" Summer avoided the question and I stared her down. The guy that was sitting on the bikes came walking over and smiled, wrapping an arm protectively around Summer.

"Ezekiel, but everyone calls me EZ. It's nice to meet You, Winter." Ez replied. He was tall, nicely groomed. Beautiful eyes.. I can see why visually Summer chose him.

I simply knodded, and looked back at the rest of them.

"That's Gilly, Hank, Creeper..Taza, Riz. Bishop is the short one.." she named off almost everyone, calling Bishop short earned her a cussing but she simply giggled.

"That's Chucky.. Oh, Angel must be somewhere inside.. that just leaves.." she landed on the last one and I about hauled ass.

"FUCKING COCO?!" I screamed, jumping into my friends arms.

"..coco." Summer sighed, laughing at the fact i hauled serious ass after him.

"Damn, bebita! You really going to fucking jump my bones this quick?" Coco smiled, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"Oh, te saltaré el culo cualquier día de la semana Coco" (Oh, I'll jump your ass any day of the week Coco) I replied, hugging him tightly.

"Can anyone tell me who the fuck that is hugging Coco? Does he have another fucking kid cause I swear to god his ass always fuckin'.." I heard loudly coming from behind everyone else.

Out came a man wearing the same kutte as everyone else, his rockers reading "secretary" instead. He looked to be the tallest of the bunch, his dark raven hair slicked back and a nice little beard matching. He looked like a much older version of EZ...oh, that must be..

"Angel! I swear to god if you ever insinuate my baby sister fucking anyone in this group, no offense Bishop, l swear to god.." Summer replied, cursing Angel out.

"Hey, uh.. EZ? You related to him?" I asked, hopping down from Coco and looking in EZ's way.

"Yeah.. yeah thats my brother Angel." He replied, shaking his head.

"Give me your gun." I replied blankly.

"Excuse me?" He replied, very obviously taken aback.

"I said, give me your fucking gun, prospect." I replied, not taking my eyes off of Angel and my sister arguing.

Everyone looked at me curiously, wondering what the hell i was about to do. I grabbed the gun out of Ez's hand and smiled... it has been so long since I've pulled a trigger..

I took the safety off his piece and without warning a shot rang out.

"What the fuck?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Angel screamed, grabbing his ear.

"Oh, don't be a fucking baby. It barely grazed your ear" I replied and passed Ez's piece back to him.

"What the fuck is wrong with your sister Summer?!" He hissed, looking between me and Summer.

"You could have fucking killed me had you not missed" he said, and I smiled.

"I didn't miss. That was a warning shot. Fun fact, but did you know when you get shot in the head you can feel the wind blowing through the hole just before you die?" I asked, giggling at the end. Everyone looked at me in bewilderment and I shrugged. Suits themselves.

Being the complete extensively crazy person i am, I walked next to Angel and kissed his cheek.

"La próxima vez no seas un idiota conmigo, ángel." I whispered in his ear, patting his shoulder.

This was going to be interesting.

[thoughtsaladblog]

Mental Breakdown (part I)

Well it’s literally just three days into the new year and like clockwork, here’s my first mental breakdown. I don’t know the reason behind this sudden feeling of being overwhelmed but it’s here and I’m on the edge so I decided to vent on my blog because let’s be honest I don’t really have anyone to vent to.

first things first, I feel overwhelmed and I need to address why that is so that I don’t turn to my usual solution of “I need a man”- because based on past experiences a man only adds to the mental problems. 

Ok to start I think something that’s completely stressing me out is that I haven’t managed to organize my schedule for this year and I’m feeling like everything is all over the place and I need to get a grip. I’m afraid I will lose students and yet I haven’t made time to plan my schedule and its a vicious cycle. To add to that I have a zillion papers which I haven’t marked and graded which were due last week and once again my procrastination has gotten me nowhere. I’m over my eyeballs with work and I’m not ready for the new year and it’s already here and I’m panicking but I’m not doing anything about it. Instead I’m sick. My body gave up and I’m sick- I’ve been sick for over a week now but finally my body gave in. To be fair I don’t think the back to back running around, sleepless nights and parties helped, but either way I am now suffering from what appears to be a cold on the surface but is clearly something far more annoying.

So it’s safe to say all that is adding to what’s causing my mental breakdown. But also, deep within there’s a sense of loneliness that hangs like a murky cloud and causes me to break down. I mean, I’m the one who chose to be alone in this house and to be fair I do prefer it to listening to amma’s millions of questions and nana’s panic (which I know comes from a good place- but I’m not one for patience). But again, while I do prefer being on my own I can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness that I don’t even have someone to vent to or to be concerned about my being sick... Ok, I feel like I’m barreling down to the “I need a man” phase again... I don’t. As in I would like one, but I’m in no hurry. I’d rather bid my time and wait for a decent, driven and knowledgeable dude with a great sense of humour and a mature sense of purpose than waste my time on some loser I meet on a dating app or whatever who’ll end up leaving me filled with an even bigger sense of self-loathing.

Ah yes, and there’s that. I wanted to be done with that- this sense of self-loathing. And I think that’s another factor that’s adding to my breakdown. I wanted to get shit on track but instead I’m sick and lying in bed watching B99 and wasting my day: No meal preps, no workouts, no intermittent fast! Nothing. Just an absolute waste of three days of the new year trying to figure out why my nose and throat are causing me so much grief. I’ve also wasted my days on stupid social media- of course! So I’ve had to delete my app in the hopes of regaining some control.

That’s it. That’s what I need. Control. Control of the situation and control of my life. To feel like I’m not wasting this year but that I’m being productive. I need to feel proud of myself- because there ain’t nobody else to do that for me.

[letarasstuff]

Girl meets World

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and is based on a show named 'Boy meets world', tho I never watched it so I went solely with the summary from said anon. I hope you still like it :)

Summary: Spencer's daughter is not ready for her first kiss. But are her classmates fine with that?

Warnings: Mean kids, angst but fluff at the end

Wordcount: 1.6k

✨Masterlist✨ ___________________________

Being on the not so popular side in school is not particularly hard, but it doesn’t exactly make things easier for (Y/N). That’s why Spencer was happy to hear from her invitation to a classmate’s birthday party.

“You call me and I’ll get you. I don’t mind if it’s in ten minutes or in two hours. Whenever you feel uncomfortable or you are done with peopling, it’s fine wanting to leave. Ok?” Her father tells her, sitting with her in the car in front of the birthday girl’s house. “Understood. Thank you, Dad. I see you no later than ten. Love you!”

Off she goes. Spencer watches (Y/N) going up the path to the front door, a bright colored bag with a gift in her hand. He considers driving up to Penelope’s apartment, which is only five minutes away, and cries with her over his daughter growing up with a tub of ice cream in both their hands. A second later the father puts his plan into motion.

Meanwhile (Y/N) is inside with a bunch of people from different classes. All those kids already make her nervous. But she is determined to make it through the night. After all, the girl doesn’t want to be seen as a baby that gets overwhelmed by a room full of human beings.

At first it isn’t that bad. (Y/N) finds a few classmates she has a class or two with and they converse. Until someone screams “Let’s play Spin-The-Bottle”. Now the eleven year old kind of feels like she is on a movie or a show. What’s next, she has to kiss the boy she has a crush on since the beginning of the school year?

Still all of the children gather around in a circle and a bottle is placed in the middle. “The rules are simple”, a kid explains, “The bottle chooses two people. They get five minutes in that closet over there.” Right, just like she predicted. (Y/N) is hesitant. They are too young to do something like that. Once again she doesn’t want to be the party pooper, so she sits down between two classmates.

Every time the bottle spins a dread weighs down in her stomach. (Y/N) is only eleven years old. Is she even ready to have her first kiss in a closet? Shouldn’t it be out of love, willently without anybody forcing two random people to such an act?

Seems like the others think these rules are fair and square. Everybody is participating with the utmost joy. Maybe it’s just her, who grew up with romantic novels written by people who not even her Grandmother witnessed alive being read to her for bed night.

Deep into calculating the probability of the bottle pointing to her, it needs a few shouts and a nudge to get (Y/N) out of her head. “Looks like it’s your turn to go into the closet”, her neighbor says to her, gesturing to the bottle, which in fact points towards her. The girl swears that the color of her cheeks is even darker than a tomato.

Shyly she gets up to the wardrobe. The remaining girls nod encouragingly while the next person is chosen by the bottle. Luckily it’s not the boy she has a crush on, this would be like in a fanfiction, too much like a cliché.

Just a few seconds later she finds herself in the closet. Is it appropriate to make a joke about coming out of the closet?

“Well, here we are”, the other boy says. (Y/N) thinks his name is Tyler. “Yeah, I guess.” She shuffles her foot and scratches her neck. “So, shouldn’t we kiss or something?”

Geez, that boy is out for action. “Uhm, what about if we do not? I’m not ready for that and no offence but I want my first kiss with somebody special and you are just a boy from my grade and there are no feelings between us and I need that special moment, because I’m a hopeless romantic.” The girl says all of this in one breath, making her speech pace compete with her father’s.

But Tyler smiles. “It’s okay. I get it, really. I won’t tell anyone. We can just sit here and talk until they knock. How does that sound?” (Y/N) smiles and nods. They sit down on some boxes and just laugh quietly about anything and everything they tell each other.

As soon as they have to come out of the closet, the other kids bombard them with questions. Tyler shuts all of them with one answer up. “A lady and gentleman are quiet and enjoy themselves.”

The rest of the evening goes relatively uneventful. There is a nice buffet and after that the kids watch a couple of movies until the first parents show up to pick up their children. Spencer is relieved to see his daughter so energetic and happy after the party.

“And then we played spin the bottle like in a teen movie. Dinner was also really nice and I think I made one or two more friends. Isn’t it amazing, Dad?” He answers her enthusiastically that he is in fact very happy for her. And Spencer is. But it kind of also implies that she grows up, a fact he doesn’t like.

The party was on a Saturday night and now it’s Monday, the first day after it. (Y/N) is ecstatic to go. In her mind her classmates finally accepted her for who she is. But as soon as she enters the school yard the kids from her grade look weirdly at her.

Immediately the girl’s mind goes into panic. Has she something on her face? Is it the way she dresses? Or is it some- The kiss. Or technically the not kiss.

“Hey Reid, I heard you are unkissed. What about I show you in the janitor’s room? Do you also want rose petals and candles laying around?” Someone starts to taunt her. The bystanding classmates begin to laugh.

(Y/N) has to listen to similar comments for the rest of the school day. A few boys from her science class make kissing noises whenever the teacher isn’t near them. Tyler once catches her eyes, mouthing an apology. But it’s not relevant to her at this point. The only thing that counts right now is getting through the last class without breaking down in front of the others. She can’t show them any more weakness.

When his daughter comes home, Spencer is already there. Hotch gave them an early off, since the last few cases were draining for all of them.

Instead of greeting him with a smile and the definition of happiness she enters the apartment with the biggest frown the father has ever seen on her face. “Hey Dad”, (Y/N) flatly says before disappearing into her room.

Confused, he assumes that she just has to do a load of homework, so he lets the girl be for the next couple hours. But as the clock is pushing near dinner time, he begins to worry.

“Sweetheart, I thought about cooking pasta for tonight. Do you wanna help me try Uncle Dave’s new recipe?” He asks at her closed door, respecting her privacy. There is no answer, just a sniffle from the other side. This alarms Spencer. “Sweetheart, may I come in?”

A few seconds pass until a faint “Yes” makes its way to his ears. Inside (Y/N) sits on her bed, her eyes are red from crying. “Oh Sweetheart, don’t be upset. Whatever it is, we can fix it. Tell me, what’s wrong?” The young doctor tries to console her. It’s always more difficult to calm your own family down than any stranger he meets on a case.

“I-it’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m upset over this.” (Y/N) frantically wipes the leftover tears away. “Hey, don’t say that. Your feelings are valid. You can be upset about anything you want, ok? If you don’t want to tell me about it, it’s fine. But I promise you that I’ll value whatever you say.”

The girl nods, finding her composure. “I- At the party we played Spin-The-Bottle and whoever was chosen had to go into the closet with the second one and kiss. I-I was in there with a boy named Tyler, b-but I told him I wasn’t ready. H-he was really sweet about it and respected my reasons. Dad, I’m not old enough and it wouldn’t be anything like I imagined my first kiss would be. But now the whole school or what feels like the whole school makes fun of me a-and I was so embarrassed.”

Spencer can feel her pain. Kids can be worse than professional torturers, he witnessed both first hand. “Oh Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’ll think of something about it. How do you feel about coming with me into the office? The others are missing you, especially Emily. She has a ton of pictures of Sergio she wants to show you. And for tonight we get your favorite take out and watch a movie of your choice, ok?”

(Y/N) smiles at the thought of the pictures she is going to see. “Yes! Can we get pizza and watch Lion King?” Even though it will be the fifth time they watch this movie this month, Spencer is happy to do anything his daughter wants. She has him wrapped around her finger.

So not long after this heartfelt conversation they sit on the sofa in the living room, crying their eyeballs out after Mufasa died. He deserved better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[trueshellz]

Hello! Can I request Osamu and Kuroo finding out their S/O has trouble functioning recently. Like usually they're working a lot and being productive but now they're burnt out – no motivation, skipping meals, can't sleep, etc. If this is too much, please feel free to ignore! Thank you!

Thank you for the request! 💜

Osamu

You had always been good at hiding your stress from your family and it was no different when you started dating. Work had been more stressful than usual, there had been lots of looming deadlines and the change in management meant that the new person was trying to leave their mark on the company. Being a perfectionist, you didn't want your work scrutinised and had taken to working long hours with little sleep.

Osamu was aware of this, knowing to keep his distance when you had lots to do. Not because he didn't like your job, but more so that you would get little done, instead playing games or making out. You had planned to see him properly but he would always pop in during the early evening to drop off some food for you.

What you hadn't shared with him was how stressed you had felt. Instead of eating, the food had been piling up untouched. You were up most of the night working on the changes coming through from the new manager and relied on coffee and caffeine pills to help. When going into work had become too stressful, you had taken some time off to recover and focus on yourself. But this had just made you fall into a dark hole. You spent all day in pyjamas, barely eating still and slept most of the day. You didn't know how to tell your hardworking boyfriend how you felt, especially since he was so busy with the shop. If he could manage a business you should be able to do your job right?

It was the second week of not seeing you daily, Osamu was starting to get worried. You had told him that you were staying with family for a bit as you had been stressed with work and didn't want to take time away from him setting his restaurant up. You still spoke everyday, less so on video or the phone but your text conversations went on for ages.

"Osamu! How are you?"

Glancing up, he saw your parents approaching the shop as he was putting up a notice board. They had known for a while that you had been dating, being supportive of you both and the relationship between you had been great.

"I'm ok. How are you both? How's my lovely girlfriend doing?"

The shock on their faces was almost palatable, they both looked at each other confused before turning back to him.

"We've not spoken to her for about 3 weeks. She said she was staying at her apartment as she had deadlines to meet and needed to focus. You know how her siblings are when she's home."

"But..."

Osamu felt his heart stop as your parents told him what else you had said. The worst thoughts going through his mind as he listened half-heartedly to them. There was no reason to lie to him or your parents. He couldn't think of why you had spun this story to lie to everyone.

Waving farewell to your parents, his thoughts swirling around his head as he finished work and tidied up the shop. By the time he locked up, he was just angry at you. How dare you lie to him? You knew how much he valued truthfulness and honesty.

Storming to you apartment, he planned his conversation in his head. He was going to confront you about lying to your parents, lying to him and about not spending time with him. If you didn't want to date him, you should have just said. Knocking on your door, he waited for you to answer but there was nothing, the lights were off and he couldn't see inside. He didn't like using the spare key you gave him, not wanting to be that boyfriend who didn't trust their partner. But it seemed like he had no choice.

Unlocking your front door, he was shocked to see your post on the floor, more than would accumulate from a day or two. Walking through and calling our your name, he could see the apartment was messy too. The food he had been sending on the worktops, work papers all over the floor and your curtains were all closed too. He kept calling your name until he reached your room, hoping to hear you reply. Were you unwell? Why hadn't you told him? He would have helped you, looked after you.

You had been in bed all day, apart from a quick shower and eating a banana, the energy you usually had had completely depleted. Everything hurt. Arms. Legs. Head. Back. Your eyeballs hurt. How was that even possible? You thought you heard your name being called but figured it was just your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn't until your bedroom door opened and Osamu's face came into your peripheral vision did you really start to panic.

"'Samu... I... what?"

All thoughts of reprimanding you flew straight out the window when he saw you. Osamu actually felt his stomach drop. Your usually bright and cheerful face was dull, your eyes were sunken and you had bags under them, he was sure you'd lost weight and didn't even want to ask when you had last eaten.

"Baby."

That one word was enough to have you breaking down into tears, not pretty ones, loud and gut wrenching sobs as he rushed over and pulled you close. Yep, definitely lost weight. His chin resting on your head as he shushed you, arms wrapped around you tightly as he rubbed your back. Your tears soaking the front of his jacket, hand curled in his top as if he'd disappear. You hadn't realised how much you missed him until he appeared in front of you.

"Baby, why didn't ya tell me? I woulda come sooner."

You shook your head, unable to form words he he climbed into bed with you. Pulling you forward so you lay on him, his arms wrapped around you as you lay there. For a long time neither of you spoke, content to lay there while your breathing settled back down and eventually falling asleep again. As you did, he couldn't help but shed a few tears at the sight of seeing you so exhausted and broken, especially after he thought the worst, made him feel like shit. How could he have been so blind? He should have seen something was wrong?

"'Samu?" He felt you move and sit up, instead pushing your head back onto his chest, he cuddled you close and squeezed you lightly.

"I'm here, baby. Don't worry."

"'M sorry."

"For what?"

"Lying."

If he hadn't cried already, he was sure you were going to make him cry again. Closing his eyes against the tears, he propped you up so you could look down at him. Brushing the hair behind your ears, he thumbed your cheek lovingly before kissing you softly.

"I wish ya'd told me, baby. I woulda helped. I woulda checked on ya more and-"

"I didn't want to burden you. You've been busy with the shop and I just... didn't want to seem like I couldn't manage. And then it just got so much and I didn't know how to fix it."

Sitting up, Osamu pulled you into his lap so you were say sideways and rocked you gently as he spoke.

"Ya never have to be sorry for shit like this. If I'd known, I woulda come sooner. Baby, ya had me worried. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to ya. Listen to me, ya never gonna be alone ok? Let me help ya baby. Lemme take some of the burden ok?" When you shook your head, he smiled and continued. "I love ya baby. It's my job to help ya."

"How?"

"Come stay with me for a bit? Even if ya never leave ya room or wanna stay in bed, ya won't be alone. I'll be there to help."

"I don't-"

"Please baby. If nothing else, I'll know that yer OK. That yer not alone and sad. All by yerself thinking that no one cares. Please?"

Kuroo

It was the autumn term and you were struggling. You weren’t sure what it was about this weather that just drained you of energy, the lack of light or the cold seeping into your bones. The idea of having dark mornings and dark evenings made your mood sour and no matter what you did, it wasn’t getting any better. You knew you had work that needed doing, your to do list steadily getting bigger and your will to donit getting smaller.

You had been off school for a week now, with Kuroo away at traing camp he was none the wiser. You were able to hide your troubles from him, he would call in the evening which would he the time you got home. He was always so cheerful, face lit up with his stories about his day and games. Often you would have his teammates crash the call and hear the mayhem as he tried to wrestle the phone away from them.

Last night, Lev had stolen the phone and started complaining about being picked on. As much as you loved your boyfriend, Lev was a sweetheart and you had a huge soft spot for him. Kuroo had wrestled the phone away from him and you watched the fight ensue in the background. With so much going on, it was easy to divert the attention away from yourself, load all the focus on his team and their game today.

Glancing at the clock, you knew the team would be on their way back by now. It was the afternoon and school was still in full force, the homework from last week still on your desk and your phone full of messages from friends asking where you were. Soon you heard Kuroo's special ringtone light up your phone. He would always message you after a match and meet with you, walking you home at the end of the day while filling you in about the camp. You would pick up snacks on the way and the lounge around on the sofa watching movies together. But today? You just couldn't do it.

Kuroo was confused and worried. Not only had you not answered your phone but you weren't in your class. Your friends hadn't heard from you in a while and that wasn't like you. Dialling your number again, he waved goodbye to his teammates before making his way to your house. He was almost there, turning back at the last minute to grab your favourite flowers and food from your local shop.

Arriving at your house, he could see that the lights were off but your car was parked outside. Calling you again, he could hear your phone ring from inside the house but you made no attempt to answer it. Banging on the door, he waited and waited. Tension growing by the minute when you didn't appear.

"Kitten! I can hear your phone ringing. Answer the door."

You knew you should answer it, you phone had rang about twelve times and you had about twenty messages as well as four voicemails. Dragging yourself out of bed, you went to your window and peered out, seeing his dark hair as he bent over his phone. The image tugged at your heart, you could see his brows furrowed as he bounced on his toes. A sure sign that he was anxious and worried.

"Kitten. Open the door. I can see your shadow in the window."

You tensed as he said that, begrudgingly walking to the door and bracing yourself against it. Tears forming in your eyes as you thought about how you worried everyone, how much of a letdown you were and how unreliable.

"Baby." His voice was softer now, closer too. "Open the door. I'm worried about you. Lemme at least see you ok? If you wanna be alone afterwards, I'll leave."

Cracking the door open a few centimetres, you peered through and saw Kuroo's face. It instantly softened, you felt your eyes fill with tears as he reached across and ran his thumb under your eyes, most probably seeing the dark circles you had. Letting him push the door open further, you let him pull you into a hug. His arms wrapping securely around your body as you fell into him, his voice a low shushing in your ear and it was then that you realised you were crying. Tears tracking down your face and soaking his jersey as you stood.

"Kitten, I gotcha. I'll always be here for you. Shhh. Don't cry baby. You're breaking my heart here. Let's get you inside yeah? I bought some food and we can lounge around like always." He pulled away and a look of panic crossed his face. "If that's what you want. If not, I'll go. I don't wanna intrude or-"

"No, Tetsu. I'd love to have you here... but, I'm not in a great place. I don't wanna-"

"Baby listen, my heart is wherever you are. If you're hurting, I'm hurting too. We'll get through this together ok? Let's stay in bed, watch some movies and eat our body weight in junk. If you're feeling up to it tomorrow, we'll organise things yeah? School work. Homework. Whatever. I'm back now, you don't have to do this alone."

[mosswillow]

Come back (Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Dark! 18+, stalking, cults, kidnapping, blood, drugging, bondage.

Summary: Your father's death brings you back to your childhood home and the cult you grew up in. You just need a few days to pack things up before selling the place and leaving forever.

A/N This is for @tansypoisoning​ spooky challenge. I picked the words nostalgia and ritual as a prompt. It’s supposed to have a horror element. I was going for more of a suspenseful/creepy vibe.

It’s been eight years since you left. You walked away and never looked back, at least not until you got the call that your father had passed away in his sleep. His only possession, the small cabin you grew up in, was willed to you. So now you stand outside the cabin, suitcase in hand, taking deep breaths before opening the door and walking in. You look around the one room cabin, taking it all in. you’re surprised to feel nostalgia creep into your bones. A blanket on the couch reminds you of forts you used to build. The smell of the forest brings back memories of climbing trees and picking wild fruit. You notice a knife sitting on the kitchen counter and imagine your father whittling figures out of wood. You look back on your childhood with mixed emotions. It was a cult, plain and simple. Leaving was the hardest thing you ever did but it was necessary. You feel happy and free now. You’ve made new friends and family. You’ve gotten an education, a job. You’ve fallen in and out of love multiple times. You’ve lived life to the fullest. So looking around now and feeling loss is both unexpected and unwelcome.

“Y/N?”

A voice brings you out of your head. You look over to see a mountain of a man standing in the doorway. The last time you saw him was right before you left. The cult had told you that you and him were chosen to marry. It’s not that you hadn’t liked Steve or anything, you just couldn’t do it. You had made friends in the city who had helped you get out. They introduced you to the internet and taught you that there’s more to the world than the little community in the woods. You were to marry him as soon as you turned eighteen but instead you left without a word.

Steve stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. His eyes travel down your body, stopping at your breasts for a few seconds. You cover them by crossing your arms and force yourself not to step back. You don’t owe him anything and shouldn’t feel intimidated by his presence.

“You look good Steve.”

“So do you.”

The two of you stand in silence for several moments longer than is comfortable.

“What are you doing here Steve?”

“Come back Y/N.”

Steve cuts in without interlude, his voice strong and commanding. You close your eyes and brace yourself. He’s always been like this, all of the men you grew up with had the same attitude, Stubborn and assertive. You had hoped you wouldn’t see Steve because you knew exactly what his reaction would be, that he would aggressively try to make you stay.

People in the cult can’t remarry. They have the belief that soulmates exist and once yours is picked that’s it. When you left you were condemning Steve to a lifetime alone. The price of your freedom was Steve's. He would not be allowed to rise in the cult without being married, would never have children or have what the cult deems is a fulfilled life. You remind yourself again that you don’t owe Steve anything. He can leave just like you did.  

“No.”

you make your voice sound as strong as you can. you were taught from childhood that women are supposed to be submissive and docile. It comes back now in full force, pushing you down like an invisible hand. You’re a boss now, having worked hard to create the life you have. You’re strong and confident but here, under the watch of Steve's cold blue eyes you feel like a child.

A look of apathy moves across Steve's face before his expression lands in a controlled smile.  Your body language wavers and you take a step back. Steve smirks at you, leaning against the doorframe.

“How long are you staying?”

“Just a few days, I’m just going through some stuff before I sell the place.”

Steve nods and places his hand on his chin, scratching the stubble that surrounds his jaw.

“Stay safe Y/N”

With that he leaves, shutting the door softly behind him. You walk to the window and look out to see a group of cult members dressed in white cloaks surrounding the cabin, half hidden in the woods. They just stand there, unmoving like zombies. You shudder and close the blinds, locking the door quickly. You need to get out of this place as soon as possible.

---

That evening you hear a knock on your door. You walk to the window and peak out. Nobody is there. You open your door and find a dead rat. A steak knife punctures through the eyeball into its head. You gasp and close the door quickly, locking it and stepping back. You check every window to make sure they’re all locked and look out at the woods only to see darkness.

After the sun rises you open your door and run to your car. It won’t start. You curse, returning to the cabin and grabbing your cell phone. There’s no reception and you curse again. You had reception yesterday. A knock makes you jump and you see Steve in the doorway, eyebrows knitted in concern. You could have sworn you had locked the door when you came back in.

“You ok doll?”

You always hated when he called you that.

“My car won’t start and my phone doesn’t have reception.”

“You want a ride to town?”

You eye Steve wearily.

“Do you think I’m going to kidnap you or something? I could do that right now if that’s what I wanted to do.”

He looks at you like he might pounce at any second. You can tell that’s exactly what he wants to do and the thought of him kidnapping you makes you want to lock yourself away. You’re in a tight spot though and don’t know what else to do.

“Ok, thanks Steve.”

You get in Steve’s truck and he drives you to a mechanic. He puts his right arm on the back of your seat casually, brushing his hand over your hair. the action is purposeful and you both know it.

“Did the cult, uh, leave a dead rat on my doorstep?”

Steve scrunches his face in disgust.

“Um, no we didn’t.”

You look out the window, not totally convinced Steve is telling the truth but also not sure that he’s lying. You never experienced any of the cults rituals as only married adults were allowed to do them. You have no idea if the dead rat is a cult thing or not but can’t really think of any other reason for the events of the evening prior.

You park at the mechanics and get out. It looks the same as when you were a kid. you remember running around playing hide and seek with other children in the woods nearby, coming over for a soda after an afternoon of playing.

“Y/N, long time no see.”

You smile sweetly at the mechanic, Mr. Stark.

“My car isn’t starting and I need to leave tonight.”

“Soonest I can come look at it is tomorrow sweetheart.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet but nod. One more night won’t hurt. Steve drives you back to your cabin and walks you to the door. He leans over, placing his shoulder beside the door and looking at you. You refuse to make eye contact and unlock the door, opening it and walking in.

“Thanks for the ride.” you say, shutting the door and locking it.

“I’ll see you later.” Steve yells through the door. You hear him whistling as he walks to his truck and you watch though the window as he drives away.

---

That evening you sit at the kitchen table, hugging your knees and biting your nails. As soon as you hear any noise you stand up and open the front door confidently.

“Go away!” You yell to the empty yard.

You slam the door and lock it, moving to the window to look out. Shadows move through the woods but you can’t make out any defined shapes.

You find a baseball bat in the closet and check all of the doors and windows once more before getting in bed. You fall asleep cuddling the bat.

Half way through the night you hear whispering outside your window. It doesn’t sound like talking, more like chanting. You clutch onto the bat and sit up in bed waiting. There’s rustling outside and then suddenly banging on all sides of the cabin. You cry, holding onto the bat for dear life like it can save you. The banging stops as suddenly as it started and the cabin becomes eerily quiet. You run to the window and pull the curtain back but nothing’s there. The rest of the night is spent awake and shaking. You’re not sure if they’re just trying to scare you or do something more nefarious. You’re not going to wait to find out. Tomorrow you’re leaving and never coming back, if you stay here any longer you may never leave again.

---

Mr. Stark drives up around noon and you meet him outside. He takes a look at your car and you sit on the porch watching.

“I need to order a special part.” He yells and you walk to him.

“I can’t stay here any longer.”

“It’ll be in tomorrow and I’ll come as soon as I can.”

You’re stuck. Panic starts rising in you but you push it down. One more night. As soon as your car is fixed you’re getting in and leaving. You don’t care anymore about finishing work on the cabin. You’ll sell it as it, heck give it away. You’re sure the cult will take it.

Mr. Stark gets in his truck and drives away. You spend the rest of the evening working in the cabin, sorting and boxing things. You’re just trying to pass time by at this point and not actually trying to finish everything you originally wanted to.

You check all of the windows and doors obsessively. They’re always locked but that voice in your head tells you to check again and again. As the sun sets, your anxiety rises, finally falling asleep out of pure exhaustion.

“Y/N”

You jolt awake to find Steve standing over your bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here Steve?”

“I won’t tolerate that language once we’re married.”

“Get out!”

“It’s our wedding night Doll.”

Steve reaches out to grab your arm and you pull away, falling out of the bed and scrambling up. Steve looks like a monster in the dark. His tall frame blocks the light coming from the window, blurring most of his features. The only thing you see aside from his outline are his eyes. They glow in the dark, ethereal and terrifying. You run past him and out the door. The woods are familiar, having played in them all growing up and you take a well worn path. You hear Steve calling after you.

“You can’t fight this. We’re soulmates.”

You keep running and crouch down behind a fallen tree. You peak your head over to look back toward the house and see a white figure walking towards you. You stand again and run only to see another ghost like person. Every time you turn in another direction someone is there, walking slowly towards you. You’re surrounded and soon you’re standing in the middle of a circle of people, dressed in white cloaks. You kneel down, tears streaming down your face. Steve breaks the circle and walks toward you, needle in his hand. He sticks it into you and your eye’s flutter before closing.

---

When you wake up you’re strapped to a large stone slab. Memories come back of being told over and over never to touch it, never come near it. It feels wrong to be strapped onto it now and you wiggle trying to get away.  you look down and see that you’re wearing matching clothing to everyone else. How long have you been out? It’s dark outside so you assume it’s the same night. Everything is fuzzy and you look around at the people’s unintelligible faces.

“Steve, do you promise to love, to care for, and to control Y/N” You recognize the voice as an elder of the cult.

“I do.” Steve speaks clearly and you perceive a hint of pride in his speech, like he knows he’s won.

The elder brings a knife to your hand, making a small cut, doing the same to Steve. Your head becomes more and more clear and you pull on the restraints.

“You may kiss your bride.”

“No!” You yell before Steve’s lips cover yours.

When he finally pulls away you yell at him again.

“Leave me the fuck alone Steve, you have no right.”

Steve ignores your cries, undoing your restraints. You try to fight against him but he leans over and whispers in your ear.

“It’s done Y/N, your mine. Do you really want me to punish you now in front of all these people? You know I will.”

You still long enough for him to carry you to his cabin. You’ve never been here before, have never wanted to be here.  He sets you on the bed and you back into the headboard.

“Let me go Steve.”

“It’s done now Doll, you can’t leave ever. I own you.”

“You don’t own me Steve, none of it is real. It’s a cult. I’ll run away the first moment I can.”

Steve's eyes darken and he stalks toward you. You roll off the bed and try to run making it out the door but  fall as soon as you hit the treeline. It feels like something is stabbing your chest and you cry out in pain. Steve slowly walks toward you, letting out a displeased sigh before picking you up. The pain disappears as soon as you’re in his arms.

“It’s ok doll, You’ve just gotten false teachings in your head but you’ve been brought back to me like it’s always meant to be. I’m here to help you learn your place. Soon you won’t even be thinking about leaving.”

“This can’t be happening.”

Steve gives you a look of pure joy.

“Oh, trust me it is.”

[bomberqueen17]

the dread pirate roberts has come for your sole

so i uh

i dunno if i mentioned that like. time kinda got away from me and i had a bunch of things i was gonna buy for this vacation that like. forgot to do. so here i am in my old shit and it’s all falling apart. yeah the sole fell off my hiking boot yeah but also the soles started peeling off my old tevas i was wearing to swim, yeah? so we got superglue and i stuck them back on, no problem.

well i went out in the water with the kids today. they had a terrible plastic rowboat and were throwing one another out of it, and i just. decided to go along, since there’s been drama and people getting run over with boats and oared in the head and whatnot. so i just put on a life vest and swam out to the boat and helped keep anyone from getting murdered, helped enforce the wearing of lifejackets, etc.

at one point in the very cloudy water something bonked me in the foot, which was deeply disconcerting. i kicked it violently away.

a little later my other foot was behaving strangely and i had the brainwave to check on my shoe soles and realized the sole was peeling back off my sandal.

i took the shoes off and held them, and made my way back to shore. dude gave me his flip-flops. i then looked at my tevas and realized that while one had the sole peeled nearly off, the other had in fact lost the entire sole. whoops. well i can’t fix those now.

also, i realized, the falling-off soles were worn through in the middle so maybe it was time to let those sandals go.

anyway Sister 3 says i should wait for labor day sales before i buy new boots and sandals but i don’t want to wait i just wanna get it over with because i have so much trouble buying shit.

apart from that-- well, including that, today was a glorious day of inactivity. i sat around, finally sewed the alterations to the farm t-shirt that doesn’t fit me but that i’ve been wearing to the farmer’s market every time i work it, and basically wasted time all day. I did more leatherworking with the nephews-- one has a book of suggested projects but it calls for tools and materials I don’t have. what i have is a couple awls, some cord, some deer hides, and some needles. that’s it. so. yesterday we made little flap wallets. today i taught them how to make a pattern for a drawstring bag, and talked through the ideas they had about how else to do it, and explained why my method was really the only method that was going to work well, and they eventually agreed. Which was good-- I do like a know-it-all kid when they actually listen and reason through things.

In the end we used the method I suggested-- measure out the circle for the base that you need, then make a strip the height you want that’s also the circumference of the base-- and instead of using the method with the prick wheel to mark the stitches i just said it was likely easier to eyeball them and punch them one at a time with the awl as you went. We also used an overcast stitch to attach the base to the walls, and then to close up the wall seam. And to put the drawcord in, we punched pairs of slits to thread it through-- the concept of making a cord casing was a good one for fabric but the leather would be too thick.

anyway. Nephew 3 finished his but wasn’t listening to me when I explained how to finish the seam, so he just sewed the last stitch and cut it off, so now it’s coming undone so i have to go get another length of cord and re-sew the end of it. (”Go back through the previous stitch holes, and maybe do it twice,” i said, and he was like “yeah yeah i get it! cool” and then did not do that. kid. now i gotta fix it. it’s fine. tomorrow.) Nephew 2 wanted to use a different stitch to finish the side seam and messed around and messed around and finally was like ok no you were right this won’t work. Listen, this is all fine and good learning.

The bonus was that it stopped the boys running and hollering, to work on stuff. They’d complained, earlier-- their mother had yelled at them for being menaces and they’d whined that they didn’t have anything to make, and like. fair. One of them does blacksmithing and the other does welding and 3D printing and of course they don’t have the equipment here. Having outlets to make things is actually kind of important to their not destroying things. So I was glad I could do a thing with them.

But boy am I sleepy.

[anxious-ace]

Angus Sparrow headcanons/ideas:

41 years old

Demisexual demi-boy (he/they)

Henrik's older brother (by like 3-4 years)

Which makes the two of them German-Australian

Born hollow (or soul-less, according to the rules of my QFTIM AU)

Lived with his Australian mother on Rook Island while Henrik lived with their German father on Ego Island

Grew up training, fighting, and hunting

(Even went to a survival camp as a kid)

Met Ellieanna on one of his hunts

Had to fight in the war against Ego Island after making his last survival hunter video

Has some kind of thing against Seán because of the whole "10 videos than nothing for 9 years" thing (or that's what he thinks)

Vulnerable to Anti's attacks thanks to not being around him long enough to build up some kind of immunity (like the other septics have been able to do) and the whole being born hollow thing

Henrik and Marvin worked on some kind of serum to prevent attacks from Anti (and infections from a certain zombie boi)

(He bites people as a sign of friendship)

(All of the septics got the second one, only Angus needed the first one)

Ok but a piece of Anti being used to (I'm just guessing here) keep Angus alive and prevent attacks from Anti himself

Is the reason the Rook Island refugees were able to get out (burned the force field down after getting his face burned on it)

Needs special (sun)glasses to protect his left eye because of said burn

Took up a hitman kind of job after the war (it pays him $50 a target killed)

Saw what his survival hunter job was doing to the environment and he is now trying to reverse it

(His fans and team also started yelling at him about it so he kinda had to do something about it)

Their last name was originally Burke and it went through many changes, starting when he married Ellieanna Hall (who made him change his last name), then he divorced her after years of abuse and changed his last name to Sparrow to distance himself from her, got engaged to Melissa two years later and has been a Sparrow ever since despite their engagement

(I know the whole Angus Irwin thing is a reference to Steve Irwin and he was a great guy, but same thing I said about me naming Mrs. Afton Summer instead of Clara, I want to be original)

Amelia was 4 when her parents finally divorced and 6 when he got engaged to Melissa and when Gavin was born (the last two took place during the very beginning of the Rook war)

I have mentioned Angus' team like maybe twice now but I haven't shown or explained them, but I did say that Melissa is the lead researcher (she researches the different animals and environments they deal with on their adventures)

(I'll get to it I promise)

Locals also love to help out (as well as give him contracts dealing with animals, old habits die hard I guess)

Mr. Monboutu (the guy he sold crocodile skins to in one of his videos, I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to spell his name) was the one who, after seeing how skilled he is, recommend him to the hitman service he now works for

He absolutely carries a knife or machete on him at all times (its self-defense relax)

I did say that he was the one to discover Sam, this was on Rook Island naturally

Sam has since become his emotional support eyeball

Wilford has interviewed them before (after the Rook war) and lets just say, it didn't go well

No one died but there were a lot of personal questions being asked

(Mostly about the war and his involvement)

He also asked him about the fact that you never see his face during his series (in-universe show)

Its because he doesn't want Ellieanna or his parents to find him, he also just doesn't like being able to see his face (this includes in videos, photos, and mirrors, like Michael Afton and his facial dysmorphia)

They are both extremely preoccupied with a perceived flaw in appearance that to others, can't be seen or appears minor (scars and maybe some acne in their teenage years) mixed with a belief that others take special notice of their appearances negatively or mock them

(To be honest I kinda feel the same way)

He might be an alcoholic but he won't admit it

(Hey, it makes it easier for him and Chase to get along so theres that)

He knows ASL and BSL so he can talk to Jameson easily

He sees Robbie as his nephew (Henrik sees zomboy as his son)

He is the uncle who gives you a knife for your 4th birthday (he did this with his own kids though)

(Must've gotten it from his own uncle, the habit not the knife he gave Amelia)

The knife he carries with is the one his uncle gave him though

Mans has some fucked up nightmares (thanks tramua, and Anti)

Is closer to the non-canon septics than he is to his parents (can you blame him?)

He is close to the canon septics don't get me wrong, it's just, why the fuck isn't he canon when he was made years before them and had his own fucking series?

Has this mark/branding on his shoulder from the survival camp

His birthmark looks like a bow and arrow (its like they were destined to hunt)

I think he'd be paranoid after hearing about whatever the fuck I.R.I.S is doing

(I'm imaging that I.R.I.S functions similarly to the SCP foundation but I have no fucking idea)

His parents and Ellieanna made him feel like he did something wrong or that he deserved to be abandoned

Mans is fucked up ok

Thank god for Henrik, Melissa, and the psychologist

The whole "being born hollow" thing is me taking the "egos have souls" page out of the septic/soul scape book

(The playlist I made for him makes him sound like this revolution leader and gender role destroyer, so basically a fucked up bad bitch)

How he and Mr. Monboutu met I have no idea, let's just say something went wrong on a hunt, they made a deal and now he's Angus' best buyer (yes he sells the skins to other Rook Island residents and yes the whole thing is surprisingly legal, just don't expect the same to be true on Ego Island)

He plays a lot of instruments (guitar, drums, violin, piano, and more)

Allergies to peanuts and seafood

Has a suit that basically keeps him alive while he's hunting (Like SCP 5000 does for Pietro Wilson), he also uses it for hitman shit

Either he made it himself or Henrik made it for him

Uses art, hunting, cooking, baking, and more as coping mechanisms

Abandonment issues and separation anxiety through the roof

Since Melissa is getting training for her job at some kind of research facility (not I.R.I.S, that's Ellieanna) during the day, they're only going to get worse

I don't think he had a motive for signing the hitman contract that Mr. Monboutu wrote for him other than "I need money and there are people that I know others would rather do without."

Still hunts at night and sleeps during the day

Bennet (Mark's character in Resident Enis) and he are childhood friends who met in the survival camp Angus went to

(He and Illinois are brothers which is how Angus met the latter)

Has a journal full of every creature he encountered as well as different types of soul stones (stones that house scape dwellers' souls)

(Scape dwellers are the egos, canon and otherwise, and non-egos who live in the mind-scape, naturally)

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (9) || atz

You’re not dead.

That’s the only thought that drifts in your mind as you lie face up on the forecastle deck, eagle spread like a dead starfish. You watch the sun as it rises over the horizon absentmindedly, even as activity rages beneath you on the main deck.

The gun crews are busy cleaning out the cannons, preparing them for another battle as fast as possible. You don’t see Seonghwa, but you know he’s below decks, leading a team of pirates in checking up on the shot plugs that they used during battle to stop water from gushing in when the ship was hit by cannon fire. You would have been helping San treat the wounded, but one look at your blank, white face and he instructed you to calm down on the forecastle deck instead.

So that’s what you’re doing.

You watch white puffs of clouds drifting past in the clear blue sky. It’s so calm, so peaceful, you find it difficult to believe that you had just been in a sea battle the day before. Only the slight acrid smell of gunpowder that lingers in the air and the occasional holes in the ground from cannon fire reminds you that yesterday was nothing but a dream.

You could have died yesterday.

You’ve just come into this world, with no memories of your previous self, barely at the beginning of the road to recovering your past, so many questions still unanswered, and it could have all ended for you in that one battle.

The erratic beating of your heart pulls you out of your dazed panic.

You try to suck in deep breaths, forcing yourself to calm down as you grip the necklace under your shirt tightly. The cuts on your body from the splinters sting and you’re aching from the bruises, but you know other pirates had it far worse.

Then you remember what you did to Jongho’s arm and you wince.

“He’s going to kill me.” You groan, burying your face in your hands. Even after the battle had been won, the young battlemaster had given you a dark glare before storming off to clear the decks of the remaining soldiers.

“Who’s going to kill you?”

You jerk up in shock, spinning around only to see a dark shape dangling upside down from the foremast’s rigging like some sort of giant spider, scaring the living daylights out of you. You yelp in terror and jump back, your foot slipping straight into one of the holes caused by the enemy cannons.

“Ow!” A howl of pain leaves your lips as the sharp edges leave scratches on your calf.

“Woah, careful there!” The dark shape drops from the rigging and hurries over to help you out from your mess. It's Yunho, you realise, covered from head to toe in soot and to your horror, dried blood.

“Yunho-hyung, you need to get to Master San right away! You're going to bleed out-”

He laughs easily, waving your concern away. “No worries! It's not my blood! You should watch out for the holes in the deck till Seonghwa-hyung repairs them.”

You nod, eyes darkening slightly as they rake over the state of the ship. “The Treasure took quite a beating, didn’t she?”

The tall man eyes you curiously as he coils up the rope he was using earlier. “Maybe it’s because you’re new, but these kind of things are pretty common, actually. No worries, Hongjoong-hyung said we’re getting to Tortuga in little less than an hour. We’ll be docking there to finish repairs and replenish stocks.”

At that, you purse your lips. You’re going to reach Tortuga soon, the second time you’re stepping on land after having been on the sea for most of your life since your awakening. The last time didn’t exactly go well for you. “Won’t the Royal Navy be there?”

Yunho shakes his head as he plops next to you, grabbing a rag from his belt and wiping most of the dirt and grime from his face. “Aish, I really want a bath. No, Tortuga is a pirate stronghold, actually. The Royal Navy has little to no power there, so we should be safe… If we pay the town enough money, that is.”

You snort at his last sentence as you lie back on the deck again. The sun is turning the entire sky a beautiful shade of pink-orange, and you turn to see Yunho’s face bathed in the same lovely colour.

He grins at you. “So, who’s going to kill you?”

At that, you shrink into yourself, a little sheepish. You thought you’d distracted him, but it evidently hadn’t worked. “Ah… Well, I was supposed to get to the sickbay during the fight yesterday but I got thrown to the midship area… and Jongho-hyung rescued me.”

Yunho nods proudly, a wide grin curving on his lips as he takes a seat beside you. “Of course he did. He’s a great fighter and he has strong protective instincts. You’re probably safer with him than in the sickbay.”

You wince. “Yeah… But during the battle, I accidentally misfired the musket and killed a soldier fighting with Jongho-hyung-”

The lookout’s eyes go wide with surprise. “So you saved Jongho? That’s amazing!”

“No no no-” You try to protest, but then someone coughs politely behind the two of you.

Both you and Yunho sit up to look at your visitor, only to see the ship’s resident healer standing there.

“Master!” You greet him cheerfully and he nods, studying you carefully for a second.

“Don’t you have work to get to, Yunho-ah?” San says over his shoulder as he checks your complexion and your pulse point for any erratic beating. The lookout pouts adorably, but can’t keep the grin off his face for long.

“Killjoy.” He laughs, before turning back to the foremast. “Catch you later, stowaway.”

San snorts as he watches Yunho go, scaling the rigging easily like a spider does its web. “And not a kind word to me.” Then he turns to you, expression blank as usual but you can read the care in his eyes. “You seem better now, apprentice. I want you to come with me to check an injury for a moment.”

“Ok.” You agree immediately, trailing after him to the sickbay. After the fight yesterday, you’ve realised that you need to acquire as many useful skills as you possibly can so you won’t be a burden to your ship mates during battles. And honestly, healing seems to be the most useful thing you could do for now.

San’s nimble fingers open the latch with ease and the two of you descend to the sickbay. Then you see who it is sitting at the table and you want to run for your life.

It’s Jongho.

You do a complete turn and make to escape before the young battlemaster can notice you, but San grabs you by the arm and hauls you into the room after him. Your master sits himself at the table, and you hover awkwardly next to him, unsure where to look at. Jongho’s eyes immediately pin you to the ground where you stand.

“I want him to learn how to treat a gunshot wound, that’s why he’s here with me.” San explains to Jongho as he pulls out several clean rags, a pair of bronze tweezers and a roll of bandage. The young battlemaster sighs, clearly unwilling, but he nods anyway.

“Whatever you say, hyung.”

San sets to pulling out a spool of thread and a thin needle, from his satchel. “Apprentice, fetch me the lamp and get me the bottle of rum from the shelf.”

You give your master a concerned look as you move towards the shelf hesitantly. “Master, this really isn’t the time to be drinking-”

“I’m using it to clean the wound, idiot. I’m out of marigold. And I abhor the taste of alcohol.” San tuts as he unwraps a sloppily done bandage around Jongho’s upper arm. The wound is a laceration from your stray musket bullet, and from what you can see, it’s still bleeding even though it’s been a few hours since the injury. “Jongho-ah, you know you shouldn’t be helping with the clearing up if you’re injured.”

“They needed someone to move the wreckage from the mizzenmast.” The maknae grunts in way of explanation. You swallow the guilt building up in your throat and move to get the lantern hanging from the low ceiling.

“How did you get this, though?” San continues, tossing the bloodied bandage to the ground. “You usually escape most fights unscathed, or most of your wounds are from close range combat. It’s rare to see you with a musket wound.”

You freeze. You can literally feel Jongho eyeballing the back of your head. But when he finally answers, he simply mutters, “Got sloppy for a moment.”

San coughs. Your master obviously doesn’t believe him but refrains from pressing him, taking the bottle of rum from you and wiping his arms down with them.

“So, apprentice, I’m cleaning my hands with alcohol. It helps to get rid of harmful organisms living on the surface of our bodies.” San works quickly, eyebrows furrowing into concentration as he slides into his ‘healing zone’, where nothing matters to him except the patient, him and occasionally maybe you. “Before you start treating a wound, make sure you clean everything you’re using thoroughly or the wound might get infected.”

“Yes, Master.” You move closer to watch him at his craft. San’s motions are practiced and methodical, as if he’s done it for years, over and over again. When he’s satisfied that everything is spotless, he moves to Jongho’s arm.

“Cloth.” He speaks, and you pass him the clean rags on the table. San soaks them in rum with a pair of tweezers while you cough at the powerful smell of alcohol. You still don’t understand how the rest of your shipmates can just down bottles of it without dying from alcohol poisoning.

Your master ignores you and leans forward, gently dabbing at Jongho’s wound. Apart from a flinch and a muttered curse, the younger battlemaster doesn’t seem to be in much discomfort, even as blood continues to stain the rags red.

“Help me hold down a cloth on his arm.” San instructs firmly as he disposes the last of the dirty rags in a basket. You stare at your master in horror.

“What?”

“You’re not deaf, apprentice. Put pressure on the wound and help me slow the bleeding while I heat the needle.” The healer shoves a cloth into your hands and moves to the lamp, leaving you in awkward silence with Jongho.

You gulp and move towards the maknae, trying not to touch him, but it’s impossible. Laying the cloth over his wound, you press down on it lightly, not wanting to hurt him and trying desperately to ignore his face right next to yours.

“That’s not going to do anything.” Jongho snorts in your ear and you squeak, almost dropping the rag. His large hand covers yours and presses down on it firmly, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

You freeze completely, but the frantic pounds of your heart are otherwise.

“Move to the side, apprentice. I want you to watch this carefully.” San returns with a sterilized and threaded needle, seating himself before Jongho and thankfully sparing you the close contact with the battlemaster. “I’m going to start suturing the wound.”

You breathe in and out quickly, trying to calm your racing heart as you move to make space for your master. Your hand slips from the maknae’s grasp. The slim man crouches in front of Jongho, eyes narrowed in intense focus. With quick, deft movements, he holds the needle with the tweezers and pulls the needle through Jongho’s skin, leaving a row of neat stitches in its wake.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” The words slip out of your mouth worriedly as you glance at Jongho. The battlemaster merely turns away.

San replies in his place as he continues stitching the wound. “I usually put a painkiller made of lavender on the area before I start, but Jongho’s a tough boy, so it’s no problem for him.”

“I am a man. I’m nineteen already.” Jongho grunts in exasperation, but the healer ignores him.

“You’re going to be nineteen.” San corrects him with a grin, finishing of the stitches and snipping the thread with a pair of scissors. The maknae gives him an irritated glare.

“I hate you, hyung.” He grumbles. But before San can reply with another wiseass comment, the sound of Mingi’s voice comes echoing into the sickbay.

“We’ve arrived at Tortuga!”

[elevatefemslash]

SC Elevate! 2021 - Day 2

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN! We hope you enjoyed yesterday's reads as much as we did! We've got 5 amazing fics for your reading pleasure today, plus 1 breathtaking piece of artwork that's ready to bless your eyeballs.

Following along? Make sure to copy today's fics from our master spreadsheet to your personal copy so that you can track how many works you've read, commented on, guessed, etc.

-

You're the one true thing: G; Stevie/Twyla; 9057 words

“Hey George?” she calls out in the direction of the kitchen, and George’s head pops up in the pass-through window.

“Need something else, Stevie?”

“No, I’m just wondering where Twyla is. I sent her a text almost an hour ago and she hasn’t responded.”

George raises his eyebrows in surprise. “She’s home sick. You didn’t know?”

“What? No! She didn’t tell me.”

“Weird.” George shrugs. “Anyway, she started feeling a little under-the-weather yesterday afternoon, and she called me early this morning to ask if I could cover for her today. I was supposed to go to my son’s science fair, but--”

“But Twyla has literally never called out sick,” Stevie finishes.

-----

Or, Twyla is sick, and Stevie absolutely does not panic.

-

ooh see that girl (watch that scene): G; Stevie/Ruth; Alexis/Twyla; 9646 words

“C’mon, gals, where’s your sense of adventure? You know, this is just like class, all the cool people sit in the front.” Jocelyn places her bag at her feet, hooking her ankles around the strap in case someone tries to run off with it.

“Not in my experience,” Stevie mumbles, falling into the seat two rows behind, Ronnie sitting next to her. Gwen sits next to her and Twyla and Alexis fill in the middle.

“Are you ready for two hours of fun?” Jocelyn asks, turning around to take a photo of the group. None of them are smiling, but that’s ok. They probably just weren’t ready for the photo.

“Mm, I don’t know that I would call multiple hours on a bus fun? Considering the last time I did that my family had just lost all of our money and we had to move into a sketchy roadside motel.” Alexis yelps and when Jocelyn turns around she’s smiling brightly, Stevie leaning into the space between her and Twyla. “But, mm-hm, yes. I cannot wait.”

--

Post Little Towns Big Voices 2k21 the Gals spend some time in NYC.

-

and the stars look very different today: T; Alexis/Twyla; Stevie/Ruth; Rachel/Shannon; Alexis & Ronnie; Alexis & Rachel; 12,080 words

Teaming up with a group of talented women, Alexis plans her next job

-

a little change: T; Stevie/Twyla; 11,738 words

In order to get her land back, Stevie has struck a deal with Lord Schitt. He'll leave her alone, if she goes and rescues Princess Twyla from her tower, for his son, Mutt. Of course she accepts the challenge.

-

An Evolving Palate: M; Stevie/Original Female Character; 2261 words

Stevie goes to Jake’s for a whisky or whatever, but ends up wine-tasting instead.

-

CREATORS: if your works were released today, please change their posting date today!!

READERS: Help us elevate by sharing this post! And don't forget: we have a 3x3 bingo and are donating money to the Trevor Project and Black Trans Travel Funds for every completed spreadsheet you send in to us at elevatefemslash@gmail.com by August 2. Check out the details and get the bingo card here!

[angelmichelangelo]

I’m gonna speak over anon because I’m literally terrified of phannies coming after me even though I’ve rebranded, I still get hate anons from them even now which is crazy. Anyway. It’s honestly a relief to read a respectful take on why someone’s left the phandom. Your words put my exact feelings into articulation and I think my main emotion is just... disappointment? I feel like dnp hold their audience at an arm’s length now and for good reason. It’s impersonal, and after what we put them through I think they deserve that. The fact that people are still trying to keep some kind of momentum going, hyping up cookie-cutter content or you know, making aus about a literal REAL BABY just doesn’t sit right with me. It feels good and healthy to move on. They aren’t interesting now. Seeing people running full time phan blogs makes me actually uncomfortable. Because I don’t feel like it’s really about dnp so much as clout seeking half the time these days.

anon you are always MORE than welcome to come talk to me about all of this stuff lol (i have a lot of feelings ok?)

and you’re totally right. one of the weirdest shifts for me that kinda gave me the final push to leave was the fact that dnp stopped caring about their audience. and the thing is, dnp always seemed different to other youtubers because they had this connection with us. twice daily livestreams, one a week upload from the gaming channel, twice monthly updates between them… take 2018 for example, if you asked any phannie they’d probably agree that it was the best year for us all because it felt like dnp were on this emotional wavelength with us where it was like: ‘okay this is the content we like and this is the content we’re getting’ and it was so perfectly balanced. it never felt like they were just pumping out content for the sake of it. they could take a boring ass game like ‘google autocomplete’ and make a real good video out of it. that was the content and the dan and phil i enjoyed.

and now??? dude. the mere idea that phil went ahead and deleted all his lessamazingphil videos to reach a larger audience is just…….. if i cared more i’d be mad. they so clearly want a different audience now. im sorry to the phannie moots that follow me still but that’s just what i see. phil’s content went from lighthearted jokey funtimes to ‘oh my god you’re a 30 something year old man making content on the same level as fuckin troomtroom and you’re still making butthole face thumbnails to appease the algorithm.’ and that’s just heartbreaking bro. what the fuck happened. i was around for the cereal tasting video (i never watched it i don’t think i’ve watched a single video since last year) and like………… the hype it got? for a low quality looking buzzfeed quiz type video is just… yeah. dude, this goes beyond the argument of ‘BUT JENNA MARBLES MADE THESE VIDEOS!!!! SHE DID IT AND EVERYONE LOVED IT!!!’ and the difference between phil and jenna was: jenna put a whole lot of fuckin effort into those videos to make them unique. not just: trying on makeup! but instead: ‘trying on makeup and then squirting eye drops into my eyeballs to make myself cry to then see which one is best for dramatic crying purposes!!’ there was a whole spin on the take that i’ve never seen phil EVER do. sorry to this man but he really…… isn’t as creative as he used to be. he falls flat every time in his videos and it makes me laugh when i see the same 😯 face in his thunmbnails with the most boring looking video idea painted in bright colours. this is the same man that was making those wacky ass videos in 2009? could have fooled me. are we sure he isn’t working for buzzfeed or something because that’s the vibe i get from him lmao.

and dan. ohhhh dan. OH DAN! he’s fed up of his audience too. at least he’s got the balls to at least half admit it (or maybe he’s just stupid idk lol) but yeah. he’s not coming back to youtube, or at least, in a way that’ll bring him back the views. he doesn’t care, and he hasn’t cared for a long time. i’m not sure what the hell he’s doing and like i said: to those running phandom blogs, you’re tough dude. you’re tough as hell because how anyone can scrape together content for this man is beyond me lmfao. he either wants: real intelligent smart people audience from his book (i have so much to say about that i could write a fuckin book) OR he wants: gay 30 year old men audience from his…. *sigh* his weird horny tweets he makes once a month. im sorry but WHAT?! THIS is a man that people want to stan????? AND ANOTHER THING: that hideously awkward livestream thing he did for AIDS… did nobody else think it was just SO HORRIFICALLY out of touch for him to making SO MANY “im such a horny slut i slept with so many people i got so many diseases”…. for a charity stream…….. for AIDS????? im sorry but how gross. that…. that fucked me off so bad im sorry but what the actual fuck is wrong with this man?? his content it all over the place and frankly i thought it was all awful. if this man ever does do a stand up comedy show like he’s been alluding to then holy shit THATS maybe the funniest thing he’s ever said in his life because that man ain’t funny (and he never had been im sorry i always was too scared to say that in the pits of phandom hell but yall need to hear it: he’s not got a single funny bone in his body and really honesty? neither does phil. they’re only ‘laugh worthy’ because they’re acting like the mf chuckle brothers).

that’s the impression i get. dan and phil have never been more disconnected from their audience. their merch is horrific like seriously what the fuck phil why are you charging your fans £70 for something i could get in primark for £15?! because again: their merch was always a plus for me (not that i ever bought it personally) but it was nice to know a youtuber wasn’t just slapping their name on a shirt and going DONE! it always had a theme or a connection to them, their brand, an inside joke or whatever. now phil is making…. couch club merch??? what the fuck is that? also side note: when i went onto their website to take a look at it i actually cried laughed at the fact that he’s selling the socks separately. phannies, you’re in deep i tell ya. oy vey.

so yeah im probably gonna piss everyone off with this huge rant but frankly idc anymore lol phandom is probably gonna die out anyways because how can you keep a wholeass fandom afloat on the algorithm appeasing content squeezed into 10 minutes and a man that is too embarrassed of his audience to ever give a shit about them. like, if u like their shit and u wanna keep ur blog about them: go for it everyone should enjoy what they wanna enjoy but also this is my opinion and if anyone wants to come crying to me about it like ‘b-b-but emmy YOU were a phannie once! ur just a jealous ex-phannie doing what all ex-phannies do which is be mean a bitter!!!!!’ like…… ya. why do you think everyone that leaves phandom starts being honest about them? because in phandom dnp can do no wrong 😌 and in phandom you must be nice to smol bean phwiw lester and danny howell 😌 otherwise all the big phannie account will come and eat you 😌 lmfao but yeah that’s all i have to say i guess. boy, this felt theraputic as fuck. and also im sorry you’re getting hate anons, i get a few filter through as well like… idk, phandom is just insane to me and now im like the final girl in a horror movie, standing in a pool of blood like: oh shit. i’m alive! lmfao

thanks for the ask anon, take care <3

[pterodactylterrace]

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 3

Chapter Summary: You’re late for tea

Rating: 18+ for later chapters

Warning: Possible swear words, dirty thoughts, nudity

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Friday had been a strange day for Faye.  First, Henry wasn't on set. It took an embarrassingly long time for her to remember being told he had a few days off of filming.

Then, Mrs. Anderson sent her a strange series of texts asking about him. Sure, Faye had mentioned him a few times. Also, Briar was constantly going on about the man with the fluffy dog, so it made some sort of sense that she would ask about him. Not to mention Mrs. Anderson was always trying to find her a 'nice young man' to settle down with, so fixating on the one man she had mentioned wasn't that odd in retrospect.

Then, as she was pulling her beat up car into her driveway, she noticed an unfamiliar, shiny vehicle already parked outside. Maybe that was the new car Mr. Anderson had been dying for? Why would he park at her house instead of in his own drive a few doors down, though? Was it a surprise for Mrs. Anderson?

Now, she was walking into her house only to be greeted by a very excited, very large fluffball at the door.

"Kal?" That was definitely Kal. He was the only black and white Akita she knew with the habit of knocking his rear into her leg for attention, although his getup was rather strange. Why was Henry's dog in her house, and why was he wearing fairy wings, her daughter's dress up fairy tutu and at least a dozen mardi gras necklaces? Also, the floppy sun hat on his head was a nice touch. He seemed to enjoy having it on as well. That, or it was tied on too well for him to get off.

The dog's attire should have prepared her for when she looked into the living room. There sat Mrs. Anderson, her sun hat on along with one of Briar's scarfs and glow in the dark glasses perched above her regular seeing glasses. Next to her was Briar, her full fairy princess costume on, complete with wings, crown and a scepter, pouring pretend tea into the strangest guest's cup.

There sat Henry Cavill, cross legged on her living room floor, tiny plastic tea cup in his massive hand. On his head was perched a plastic crown, a feather boa wrapped around his thick neck, and if the sparkles were anything to go by, Briar had attacked him with her glitter body spray.

"Mommy!" Briar gasped, dropping her plastic tea pot and racing over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Hi, sweetie. What's going on?" Faye asked cautiously.

"You're late for tea." Henry replied, taking a pretend sip from his cup.

"I hope it's alright, dear. You did say he was a friend, and Briar seemed so fond of his dog, I didn't have the heart to turn him away." Mrs. Anderson explained.

"Uhh... yeah, it's fine." Faye mumbled, still taking in the sight before her, Kal and Briar rejoining the tea party as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"My mistake. I thought we agreed on Friday." Henry apologized, pushing himself up. "We've only been here a little while. We can leave if you'd like."

"Oh, no. That's ok." Faye assured, finally setting her bag down, hastily turning over her sketch pad on the entrance table. Some things weren't meant for anyone other herself to see.

"I'll just be heading off then, Miss Warren." Mrs. Anderson excused herself, taking off her borrowed accessories and gathering her things. "You all have fun."

"So, uhh... how... how long have you been here?" Faye asked once she closed the door behind the older woman, quickly scanning the room to make sure nothing difficult to explain was in plain sight.

"Not long." Henry assured, sitting back down at Briar's insistent tugging, folding his long muscular legs back up as he settled on the floor in front of the coffee table.

"More tea!" Briar demanded, holding the cup up to his mouth, prompting him to take another pretend sip.

"You make wonderful tea, miss." Henry complimented, Briar preening in response.

"Mommy, you want tea?" Briar asked, a wide yawn cracking her little face.

"I would love some, sweetheart, but it's time for your nap." Faye pointed out.

"No! I wanna play tea!" Briar whined, plopping back on her backside in a pout.

"Briar." Faye warned, raising a brow at her.

"But... but... tea party!" Briar insisted.

"We can play more tea party after your nap. You're getting grumpy."

"No I'm not!" Briar insisted, her chubby face drawn into a scowl.

"That was grump right there." Faye pointed out, gently scooping up her cranky daughter. "Now let's go lay you down for a nap, and then we can play more tea party when you wake up."

"I don't wanna nap!" Briar yawned, rubbing her hazel eyes in an attempt to stay awake.

"You need one."

"I don't wanna nap, I'm tired!"

"Sound logic, my love." Faye sighed, settling her daughter into her bed, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed unicorn. The little girl was asleep before Faye even reached the door, curled up around her stuffie with her little tush up in the air.

"Sorry you had to see that. She really hates going down for a nap when she's having fun."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to get her wound up." Henry apologized, removing the plastic crown from his head.

"Don't worry about it, she's just happy to have more guests at her tea party." Faye assured, picking up the plastic dishes and putting them back in the toy box.

"She was quite insistent we join, though I do think Kal enjoyed getting dressed up." Henry chuckled, beginning to remove the dog's costume.

"Good thing you agreed, otherwise you would have faced the wrath of Briar." Faye giggled, noticing the unicorn and rainbow stickers all over Henry's back.

"It was a pleasure attending her party. She is quite a wonderful host." Henry laughed, stowing the costumes back in the toy box. "Now, I do believe you requested help with a cake for our little party host."

"Yes, right this way." Faye waved, heading off to her tiny eat in kitchen. "What do we need?"

"Well... you have an oven, so that's a start. I brought the ingredients with me. Do you happen to have a cake pan?" Henry listed, opening the fridge and removing the bag he'd brought along.

"I have a glass baking pan." Faye offered.

"We will work with that." Henry agreed. "Now, measuring cups?"

"They are around here somewhere."

"Do you know how to use them?" Henry teased, setting the ingredients from the bag onto the counter.

"Vaguely. I just usually eyeball everything when I cook." Faye admitted.

"That won't work with baking. It's a science and the measurements have to be exact." Henry explained. "So, we'll start with the dry ingredients. Can you measure out two cups of flour?"

"I have no idea where the cup is. I have half a cup."

"Four of those, then." Henry absently mumbled, scanning over his mother's recipe card again. He glanced over to see her attacking the bag of flour with the measuring cup, wincing to himself as he watched. "Faye?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Forgive me for asking, but do you know how to measure flour?" Henry asked, cringing when she tried to smooth the top down with her hand, causing a flour explosion in her face.

"I'm guessing what I just did wasn't right."

"Not quite." Henry chuckled, stepping behind her, taking her hand in his and dumping the flour back into the bag. "You can use a spoon to sift it. Packed flour and unpacked flour are two totally different measurements." He explained, handing her a spoon and taking her other hand in his, showing her how to sift the flour into the measuring cup.

Faye tried to keep her cool and ignore the fact that Henry Cavill was pressed up behind her, holding her hands and showing her how to measure flour like it was the most natural thing in the world. Surely this was just some dream and if it was, no one had better wake her up.

"Got it?" Henry asked, turning his head to look at her, snapping her from her thoughts. Faye did her best not to stare at his lips, so close and yet so far away. She could just lean in...

"Yeah, got it." She quickly confirmed, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.

And so it went, Henry leading the way through the mysterious land of baking, Faye following blindly behind. He even let her lick the spoon when he was done with it, and he in no way stared in awe at the way her tongue moved around it. He was a gentleman, after all, and imagining what else that tongue could do would be highly inappropriate.

It wasn't until after the cake had been pulled from the oven to cool that Briar woke up, wandering into the kitchen with her now disheveled princess costume still on, her hair sticking out in strange angles as she rubbed her eyes.

"You're here!" Briar gasped, taking notice of the giant in the room and scurrying over to him, throwing her arms around his legs.

"Nice to know where I stand." Faye pouted as Henry scooped the girl up, her daughter not even glancing her way in favor of talking to Henry.

"Can we play dollies?" Briar asked, batting her thick dark lashes at him, her chubby lip sticking out in a pout.

"I've never played before, you'll have to show me how." Henry agreed, smiling down at the little girl held securely in his arm.

"Mommy, you look silly!" Briar giggled, finally looking over at her mother.

"That's not nice." Faye gently scolded.

"What on your face?" Briar asked.

"Mommy had an incident with the flour." Henry explained. Shit. Had she really spent the last hour, practically drooling over her guest with flour all over her face? She really should write a book on how to flirt. No doubt, it would be a best seller.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Faye mumbled, her face heating up beneath the flour coating as she ducked her head and beelined down the hall.

"I'll be learning how to play dolls." Henry chuckled after her, carrying the toddler back to the living room so her mother could shower in peace.

Fifteen minutes later, Briar was still explaining the different names of her dolls and stuffed animals, piling each on top of Henry and resorting to stuffing them under Kal's paws when she ran out of room on her semi-willing captive. Faye cracked the bathroom door open and glanced to the living room to make sure her guest was thoroughly distracted before she slipped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around herself as she snuck down the hall to her bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind herself. She could almost convince herself he was interested in her with the couple times she'd caught him looking her way when he thought she wouldn't notice. No need to scare him off with her mom-bod now.

Sure, it hadn't been that hard on her figure. She wasn't left with the same saggy stomach her mother had after her pregnancies, but then again, her mother had carried two sets of twins almost to term. Talk about a superwoman. Though she did decide no more children after her younger brother and sister had been born.

"You keep giving me a two for one deal, I'm not doing this again!"

Good times. Good times. The wonders of having twins running strongly in your family. Faye had only given birth to one, but she still bore the stretch marks on her stomach and breasts, and the loose skin on her stomach had never really gone back to the way it was before.

Faye was shaken from her thoughts by her daughter's all too familiar exclamation coming from behind her. "Mommy, you're nakie!" She would never understand her daughter's near obsession with pointing out the fact that she was in fact, naked during and directly after showers, but it was without a doubt one of her favorite hobbies. Right behind tea parties if she had to guess.

"Wait, what? Oh!" That was not her daughter's voice. Faye's head snapped up to find Briar's chubby hand wrapped tightly around Henry's little finger, his other hand clapped firmly over his eyes. "I am so sorry! She wanted to get her stuffed dragon, I did not know this was your room!"

Faye snatched her towel off the bed and wrapped it around herself again, grabbing the dragon from the pillow and handing it off to Briar. The little girl happily took her dragon and led Henry back down the hall, not bothering with the door. The wonders of being young and innocent. She had no clue what she had just done.

Faye quickly shut the door herself, remembering to turn the lock this time, though it was a moot point by then. She threw on a tank top, leggings and her fluffy socks before forcing herself to venture back out. Henry was actually sitting on the couch this time, doing his best to focus on what the little girl was saying, though truth be told, his mind kept wandering back to the quick glimpse he had gotten of Faye's backside before he registered what was going on. It was even better than the glances he had gotten when she bent over in front of him to rummage through her make up bag. Nice and round, plump yet firm. The kind of ass you just want to squeeze as you're-

"So... " Faye started awkwardly, quickly breaking Henry out of his own head. "Lunch sound good?"

"Chocolate sandwiches!" Briar quickly suggested, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest as she bounced around.

"It looks like I'm making chocolate sandwiches, though I could probably also manage a peanut butter and jelly."

"I wouldn't want to impose, though I did want to apologize again-"

"Accident's happen, but we are going to pretend that one didn't, ok?" Faye interjected. "So nutella or peanut butter and jelly?"

"Umm... either is fine."

"Briar, keep them company while mommy makes lunch, ok?" Faye suggested, going back to the kitchen before her false confidence faded. If he was on board with repressing and denying, so was she.

Now, only one questioned remained: Would Henry prefer his sandwiches cut into dinosaurs or puzzle pieces?

[effiecalvin]

Purchase from Amazon Purchase from Somewhere Else (tons of options, including Audible, Kobo, Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, and Apple Books) There’s no spoilers on these slides; all the information in them is basically same stuff you’d read on the back cover/product blurb. 

I’m trying to earn a bit of extra money because I had some huge vet bills hit me last month, and it’s looking like my old lady cat is gonna have to be on a specialized diet for the rest of her life (she was already on one, but this new one is gonna be even more expensive). Reblogs are appreciated!

Full image descriptions can be found behind the read more cut.

Thank you to @bisexualbaker for help with the slide descriptions. Slide one: I think you should buy these books (but I am the author so take that with a grain of salt) [Images: Covers of the first four books of Tales of Inthya: The Queen of Ieflaria, Daughter of the Sun, The Queen of Rhodia, The Empress of Xytae.] Slide two: Ok so wait what is going on here? * This is a series of books that you can read with your eyeballs! * There’s also audiobooks of the first two so I guess you can also read it with your earballs! * I don’t know how anatomy works * I majored in English * We’re getting off topic * Every book in this series is a high fantasy romance centered around a f/f couple. Slide three: Book 1: The Queen of Ieflaria * Princess Esofi is engaged to marry Prince Dead Guy. * I dunno why his parents named him that? * Anyway he dies. * But it turns out this is a queernormative setting, so Esofi can just marry Prince Dead Guy’s sister! * Except Adale is all, “I can’t marry you, I’m a mess!” * And Esofi is like, “Yeah I agree, you are a mess.” * But then they both realize Adale is actually cool and smart and cares a lot about people. * Also there are dragons. [Image: Book cover of The Queen of Ieflaria] Slide four: Book 2: Daughter of the Sun * Orsina is a Lawful Good paladin on a Quest. What is her Quest? She doesn’t know. * This lack of information is slowing her down substantially. * Aelia is a minor chaos goddess who has zero worshippers and almost no magic. * Orsina vanquishes Aelia for being Evil. * Or at least for being A Huge Jerk. * But Aelia is not really vanquished and they run into each other again. But Orsina doesn’t recognize her. * They’re gonna fall in love!!! [Image: Cover of Daughter of the Sun] Slide five: Book 3: The Queen of Rhodia * Esofi’s terrible mother gets a copy of book 1 and reads it and is like, “I don’t think so!” and sails to Ieflaria to make a nuisance of herself. * She’s not homophobic or anything. We don’t do that here. * She’s just jealous because Esofi is being favored by their patron goddess. * Orsina and Aelia show up too! * It’s like a crossover. Except they were always in the same setting. But now they’re in the same room. * Also there are even more dragons. [Image: Cover of The Queen of Rhodia] Slide six: Book 4: The Empress of Xytae * Crown Princess Ioanna of Xytae is having a bad time because the national sport in her country is Being A Huge Jerk. * Meanwhile, Princess Vitaliya of Vesolda is having a bad time because her dad is getting remarried. * The princess:everyone else ratio on this planet is a little skewed. * Ioanna’s dad dies and her sister is like, “You can’t be empress if you don’t like * Being A Huge Jerk!” * And everyone clapped. * So now Ioanna has to win the support of her people and get coronated and kiss Vitaliya. [Image: Cover of The Empress of Xytae] Slide seven: Book 5: Daughter of the Moon * This book isn’t getting published until late 2020. But I can tell you a little bit about it. * Princess Netheia, Ioanna’s younger sister, has been found guilty of Being A Huge Jerk. * And exiled to Ieflaria. * She meets Klavida, whose hobbies are studying obscure magic and not wanting anything to do with Netheia. * Klavida’s disdain for Netheia’s behavior sort of makes Netheia want to become a better person. * Unfortunately she has an evil goddess screaming in her brain. [Image: A blue rectangle; text on it reads, "Sorry I do not have the cover art yet; please enjoy this delightful rectangle instead!"] Slide eight: Other miscellaneous facts * Each book is dedicated to a different cat in my life. * My naming choices are bizarre and my audiobook reader deserves an award of some sort for tolerating my nonsense. * The books are all standalones with no cliffhangers or anything but they also weave together like a beautiful tapestry or maybe a plate of spaghetti that eventually leads to a meatball or marriage. * “TWO PRINCESSES CAN’T GET MARRIED BC THEY NEED HEIRS!” The whole thing is explained in the first few pages of book 1. You don’t even need to buy it to see. It’s in the free preview. * CONCLUSION: It would be neat if you bought these books because I am poor and depressed and I’d like to be rich and depressed, ideally.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

10. You confessed your feelings and we’re about to kiss but we get interrupted

36. Friends with benefits and both people catching feelings

Wavetide

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E (we’ll be working up to it) Chapter: 1/7

Summary:

She never tells anyone. Well, she admitted it to Ned once because he caught her staring at Peter in a way that was too difficult to deny, but she’s never confessed to the fact that her love for their friend isn’t a solitary tsunami of longing; it sweeps in and out in waves.

Michelle Jones’s life is a world-record attempt at most times falling in love with the same person. She’s loved Peter Parker on-and-off dozens of times since they were 10, and they’re only 12 now, so it’s almost a weekly thing. He’ll make her laugh right when they’re coming in from recess and she’ll love him. He’ll pick her for his squad when they’re doing wind sprints in gym and he’s her thoughtless best friend again. She never tells anyone. Well, she admitted it to Ned once because he caught her staring at Peter in a way that was too difficult to deny, but she’s never confessed to the fact that her love for their friend isn’t a solitary tsunami of longing; it sweeps in and out in waves.

When they wake up, Peter will be 13. A teenager. They’re camped out in the Leedses’ living room in anticipation of the big event. His aunt and uncle are going to host the actual party at their apartment tomorrow, with cake and balloons and everything, but tonight, the three friends have Ned’s pup tent set up indoors (was supposed to be outdoors, but it’s raining). The scenario feels strangely like a farewell to their mutual childhood and Michelle’s having a hard time falling asleep.

Ned’s been asleep for half an hour, but she doesn’t realize Peter hasn’t joined him until she rolls over on the air mattress and he turns his head to look at her. Ned’s on the far end; they always banish him to the edge for snoring. Peter’s hair shushes against the cotton pillowcase as he adjusts, still watching her.

“Do you think it’s after midnight?” he whispers.

“Maybe. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

He smiles at her and Michelle draws her knees up to her chest inside her sleeping bag, hugging them in place. She’s grateful that the three of them are still allowed to do this, have sleepovers in confined spaces and all sleep on the same air mattress.

Peter garbles something through a large yawn and she snickers, shuffling closer. The confusing tug of her reluctance to grow up eases when she concentrates on him.

“What?” she asks.

“I wonder if it’s still raining,” he repeats.

“We could go see?”

Ned’s house after dark is weighted by dense silence. Michelle doesn’t have to ask if Peter feels it too, because they’ve discussed it on other occasions when Ned was the first to conk out for the night. The Leedses’ home is a fascinating place for two kids who’ve grown up in apartments. The lowness of every window looking out on the ground floor, the quiet of no neighbours on the other side of the wall. It’s almost creepy.

They shift their weight carefully, wriggling off the air mattress like commandos crawling under barbed wire, trying not to jostle Ned in his slumber.

“Bouncy castle,” Peter hisses at her and pumps his arms against the mattress to make them both sway on their hands and knees.

“Stop it,” she says, giggling as her eyes flick to Ned. It’s ok, he’s still asleep.

With a rub of nylon, they slither out of the tent. Peter darts his arm back in to snatch his sleeping bag. Michelle glances sideways to see how he’s bundled about half of it into his arms as they pad across the carpet. Ned’s mom drew the blinds and Michelle shuffles over to part them, but Peter pulls her wrist and they go to the back door instead. With a flip of the lock, he slides the glass door open, letting the sound of chittering insects pour through the screen. The rain’s done. There’s a big oak in the yard and Michelle can see the bright lightbulb curve of the moon above its crown before she and Peter sit cross-legged on the floor.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“No.”

But it’s nice when Peter unzips his sleeping bag all the way so they can pull it around their shoulders like two kings with one luxurious cape. Michelle grips the corner over her left shoulder, Peter over his right. Even a year ago, this might’ve been the moment where she confessed to how tired she was and felt him gather her close, making sure the sleeping bag tucked around to cover her knees. Tonight, she has a soft white bra under her pajama top because she’s too aware of her friends being boys to take it off, even to sleep. Under that, she has a heart that gushes and swells with this feeling she gets whenever she sneaks a look at her friend’s sleepy face, the hair that tumbles onto his forehead and curls up above his ears.

“Fireflies,” Peter points out, scratching his finger against the screen when he gestures too fast and misjudges the distance. He’s right. They’re blinking yellow all over Ned’s yard.

“Yeah.”

“You think they’re lucky?”

“Not that lucky. They only live for two months. I read that,” she says. There’s a mosquito bite on the back of her arm that makes her currently unsympathetic towards bugs.

“But what if I want to make a wish on them?”

“On a firefly that’s going to die in two months? Why would you?”

“Lit birthday candles last way shorter than that,” he counters, “and we make wishes on them.”

“Well, that’s just because men are obsessed with demonstrating their dominance over fire. Man master of fire!” Michelle elucidates in a Neanderthal grunt.

“That’s not really why we blow out candles, is it?” Peter asks. She shrugs next to him. “It can’t be,” he says with more certainty. She doesn’t respond. “Still, they’re pretty.”

Michelle looks to see him watching the fireflies, eyes darting to each flare of light in turn. She’s on the dock of her childhood and she can spot the next wave rolling in.

“What would you wish for?” she asks.

Peter scoffs and twists a little so he can focus on her.

“I can’t tell you.”

“You can as practice. The wish only doesn’t come true if you talk about it after you blow out your candles. Allegedly,” Michelle adds, because they aren’t children anymore and she, for one, will not be taken in by nonsense on the arcaneness of birthday wishes.

“A real lightsaber.”

“That’s dumb.”

“It’s not your wish!” he says.

“No kidding.”

He shrugs off her sarcasm.

“I don’t really want anything.”

“Don’t pout just because you can’t be a Gemini.”

“Jedi.”

Oh, she knows what they’re called. She’s employed this particular taunt many, many times.

“Pick something,” Michelle urges.

“I do, uh…”

Peter drops his gaze and plays with the string dangling from the edge of the sleeping bag. This is suspicious behaviour. She studies him, attempting to recall the information on reading body language she’s picked up from true-crime books and fake-crime TV shows. Her parents don’t like her reading or watching that stuff ‘at her age,’ but she’s a firm believer in a running start to teenage rebellion.

A warm breeze rustles the oak’s green leaves and washes over their faces.

“I do want one thing,” he mumbles. It’s barely spoken―the gentle wind is making more noise.

There’s something off and it makes Michelle nervous. Everything inside her, apart from her brain, thinks it knows where this is going when Peter licks his lips and flexes his hands briefly like he does when he’s making a decision. She’s waited for this. She’s scared of this. How it’ll change them. She almost wants to go back to five minutes ago, when they were side by side in the tent with nothing to make them feel older except her feet hanging off the end of the air mattress when she scrunched down to get her head aligned with Peter’s so they could talk softly in the dark. Michelle asks her best friend what it is he wants, but only in her head.

“I want to kiss you,” he says, looking at her.

“Why?” she blurts.

“I just do.”

Her heart’s galloping. The wave’s about to crash.

“I guess it makes sense,” Michelle bluffs. Her whole body feels numb with the anticipation.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll be starting high school in a year and people are going to start getting together so I guess I get why you don’t want to be left behind or whatever.”

Peter faces forward again and she can see him well enough to watch his throat jerk as he swallows.

“MJ, that’s not why.”

“Sure it is. You want practice.”

“It’s not like that,” he says and she’d bet he heard that somewhere, all the old movies he watches, because it sounds too grown up for her Peter.

“Do it then.”

His head snaps up and he looks at her.

“What?”

“Do it. Kiss me.”

She tries to square her shoulders and be the self he knows her to be. The Michelle who steps between bullies and her boys. The Michelle who isn’t scared to hold a bug or go to the section of the Halloween store with the really disturbing rubber masks that have, like, eyeballs dangling out of their sockets.

“You want me to?”

“Yeah, I want to see if you’re good at it,” she says toughly, chin up in a challenge.

“You’ll probably be good at it,” Peter mumbles under his breath as he scoots to face her instead of the door. Michelle mirrors him.

As he leans towards her, she can feel herself inside the wave―water all around and her twirling in a complicated pattern as it decides what to do with her. Not wanting Peter to get all the credit for going through with this, Michelle bends in his direction. Their knees make contact and she glances down at where her best friend’s shins cross. She sees fine brown leg hair, then squeezes her eyes shut as she tilts her face up, scared of however he appears in this moment. She’s surprised that she doesn’t flinch when his fingertips touch her cheek. He exhales in a soft puff, close.

“I really like you,” he murmurs.

Michelle’s underwater and can’t speak.

And then, “COOKIE!” someone yells in the night. A dog yaps sharply in response.

Michelle and Peter spring apart at the sound of one of Ned’s neighbours. Are they going to persevere? Get back in kissing distance and find out if they have some kind of spark that’ll tell them they’re meant to be more than friends? That’s how it seems to work in the old movies she watches and doesn’t tell the boys about. She’s not sure yet where rom-coms fit in the image of herself she’s only beginning to sketch, so she keeps them quiet.

Because she’d rather make a wrong action that’s all her own than react to whatever Peter decides to do, Michelle scrambles swiftly to her feet.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she says. It seems like the least romantic thing she can say. Peter stands too, eyes searching hers uncomfortably. The shared sleeping bag is neglected at their feet.

She strides off and he doesn’t try to grab her to stop her. She’s not sure what she’d do if he did. The bathroom’s down the hall and when she looks back, she sees him in his t-shirt and pajama shorts, scooping up the sleeping bag. A distinct longing to swim out to him surges inside her, but the wave of more-than-a-friendship-kind-of-love flings her away and she faceplants on the beach of Unrequited Crushes. Maybe… soon… they can still try? Because they’re both too embarrassed tonight when she eventually returns to the tent. And she acts like nothing happened during his birthday party. When his uncle dies suddenly and terribly, she can’t put any kind of expectation on Peter for them to be anything but friends. He needs her as a friend. The memory of him standing at the back door with his arms full of sleeping bag lingers. In Michelle’s mind, she turns away from the ocean. If she doesn’t look, she can’t see the wave.

To be continued!

[steve0discusses]

S4 Ep40: Fixing Dartz By Not Actually Fixing Dartz

Yo Merry Christmas, I’m quarantined as hell, so I’m just streaming and playing video games until my problems get vaccinated away.

So lets just write about Yugioh because hell a lot didn’t go as planned this year (can you believe my 2020 goal for this blog was to finish ALL OF YUGIOH?) but although my goals were halved and quartered--With this blog I don’t freakin care anymore, and somehow...that’s how it’s one of the few creative bastions I have left standing.

Wild.

I’m so done with the internet, I’m not even updating twitter right now.

But hell yes, lets update the Yugioh blog.

So onward, with the last episode of this season. We last left off with Yami getting devoured by a hate tornado which is just...a lot of 2020 energy. This whole season, in a nutshell is just...2020 energy, honestly. And this tornado is just twitter. It’s just twitter incarnated.

Rather than try to save himself and consequently fix his ghost problem, Yugi has decided to keep himself haunted by fixing Pharaoh’s inner emotional problems. Really is something, isn’t it? To do low key therapy for the ghost that basically...put you in therapy? Yugi can help fix his problems but like...he’s still a mess of problems because of it. Now Yugi shouldn’t walk away, of course, that’s effed up, but it is a little irony there.

Pharaoh, of course, has decided to submit to the hate tornado, and sees it as a manifestation of his own anger and bad vibes.

Isn’t that’s the real problem we have when we have to confront the feelings we don’t want to confront? Where we tend to feel guilt and hate for being upset, which is just sort of a thing humans naturally tend to do--instead of actually working on controlling what you do with those feelings so that way we stop lashing out and setting everyone on fire in the burger restaurant?

Like Pharaoh should be learning to count to 10, not trying to just remove his anger. This has sort of been his problem for a while--he assumes he can just...delete his rage. That’s not a thing. You can’t do that unless you have very specific medication through a doctor, and that’s why he keeps failing at it.

And this goes back to S1 when he “fixed” Kaiba and like nothing really happened. Pharaoh’s decided to wipe himself and like...it’s up to your own interpretation but like...in my book that Pharaoh brand clean cycle does freakin nothing. It gets reversed like constantly.

(read more under the cut)

So Yugi decides to hit up Plan B, which is, honestly? Not a great message. But it’s the anime trope that we keep going back to because it’s the catch-all to make any anime protagonist into the good guy.

Like...

...

.......Yeah I’m gonna talk about it.

this is a trope that is so common it’s sort of ubiquitous with the genre. You gotta have the protagonist give up on their own strength, and be lifted up by their pals at the very last second--it’s like the anime hero’s journey.

But I really don’t like it. I don’t like the power of freindship. I’ll say it.

Because there’s some things you have to handle on your own. And I don’t think it’s a bad thing to have your main character show strength and show character development by doing things by themselves at the last minute. We already know that Pharaoh’s a good pal and believes in his friends--but like...does he believe in himself?

I can’t tell you if he does by how this episode goes, that’s for sure.

The whole point of this tornado is to see Yami discover his own strength and overcome his weaknesses...and yet he still relies on that good ol chestnut, friend powers.

Like last episode I feel like they did this already and it was way better--other people offered their help willingly, then Pharaoh got to have a big ol fight solo in the clouds to prove he was strong on his own as well. We finished the whole season last episode, so what are we accomplishing now other than a last minute secret boss fight?

Why would Yami doubt himself now? It’s weird. Yugi’s right to have mentioned “yo didn’t we figure this all out in desert hell???” because...we did. Yami is retreading old territory.

And that’s a thing that happens when you write, PS, when Yugi was saying “we already did this!” Yugi was reminding the writers of the show “we did this already. Like guys. We did this.” and sometimes when you’re writing, your characters will do that to you, and you should always be paying attention to cues like that.

Anyway, he vanquishes the hate tornado by thinking fondly of all of his buddies, and then the storm that should have been over the Atlantic Ocean, as according to the dub, parted in the sky above California.

GEOGRAPHY, the secret final boss of this season of Yugioh. And they failed. In a big way.

Yugi holds out his hands in real life, and pretends to hold a ghost that isn’t there. Now I want all of you to do this position IRL. Like that. OK. It looks like Yugi is holding onto a pair of ghost boobies.

Meanwhile, actual and very literal ghosts with very real bodies show up and start picking up Dartz and like...

...The ending of Dartz’ storyline is a TRIP! Lets just get into it!

This cursed dog. I can’t stand how this dog is drawn. I hate it so much that I actually love it, and if I saw this in a thrift store I would impulse buy it and hang it over my fireplace mantle in a golden gilded frame.

AHHH????

WHAT????

He electrocuted you with LIGHTNING! He killed your...everyone! He killed EVERYONE!

Also girl, how are you HERE? Like Physically??? I saw you die! TWICE!!

Yugioh is on SOMETHING with this one, and I think that “something” is called “we weren’t allowed to give you a PG-13 sad ending.”

This is just the freakin weirdest thing. We have a character who is worse than Darth Vadar, and this show has pulled so many dark things in it’s history, but it just...

...it can’t punish Dartz at all, and I don’t know what they were thinking.

They have been poetic before--Pegasus got his eyeball gruesomely ripped straight out of his face, nearly got murdered by Bakura, and was not able to resurrect his wife. Noah hella died, had to give up his plan to rule the world and be a real boy, and had to murder his own Dad even, the moment he finally made a bond with his brothers. Marik had to lose all control of his body, live helplessly inside Tea’s bod for an entire season and accept the fact that he murdered his Dad and now has to live on without any of the magic that ever made him powerful in a broken world and a broken family he will never understand.

Dartz though?

If he does get some sort of poetic retribution, it will be off-screen because we don’t have time for it.

And that’s kind of a bummer because this is usually something Yugioh is kinda good at! I enjoy when this show goes dark, this is a great opportunity to do it...and they didn’t.

It was just the wettest fart Yugioh has ever played on me.

Just the wettest. Nice knowing you, Dartz. Glad you were here to murder everyone on Earth and then totes get away with it because we’ll just pretend like the Orichalcos was a totally different person--although it’s not. Because Yami JUST told us that it doesn’t work that way. Yami JUST told us that the Orichalcos was using his own pain and his own hate against him.

It’s not a separate person, it’s the same!

And to suggest that Yami vanquishing that hate tornado somehow cured Dartz of all his sins, is some upper level Jesus stuff that I don’t think this show would normally want to tread on. Straight up. Yami is a pretty poor stand in for Jesus Christ, and I feel I can straight up say that because it’s Christmas.

...what HAPPENED in the writing room with this one? Did they just run out of episodes? There are less episodes this seasons than other seasons have been.

Was it edited for the English version? Because I...kind of doubt they could edit that much to make it that drastically different.

I’m just boggled. Like usually I’m of the opinion to let the writers do whatever they do because I do not know what was going on behind the scenes, and I’m still of the opinion that they did the best of what they could do with the resources they were given.

BUT, this episode just feels...hella sus. I feel like they just had to make an ending. Any ending. Get an ending on there and finish the season before the power goes out and then run away with whatever paycheck you get (because in entertainment--you might not get one).

Seto and Joey made it completely back to the KaibaCopter before Tea was like “I mean it’s been 15 minutes, guys, you really didn’t hear him behind you? You really lost his tiny pitter patter of his little shoes? The little shoes that make a little tinkly noise like a kitty cat’s collar? A little kitty cat collar that he also wears around his neck? His neck that has a golden pyramid held by a tow chain that makes a little clanky clank when it hits his two belts covered in metal rivets that makes a little singsong clippity cloppity noise every time he so much as breathes? He’s a walking talking Bell of Notre Dame, you lost him?”

and Seto was like “Oh damn it, I know he’s the same size as Mokuba, and so I should be really good at not losing this kid but also have you noticed how many times I’ve lost Mokuba???”

Joey just looked into the distant tomb hut and said “......You’re kidding me.” and decided to immediately run back because Joey Wheeler knows what’s up.

Had Joey Wheeler actually made it back to Atlantis, he would have seen Dartz and his entire family hugging it out and would have immediately socked the guy straight in the dick and it would have been a great way to finally give Dartz just one single consequence for murdering everyone on Earth but you know, I did not write this episode.

I’m really glad that in the same episode that Yami called upon the powers of friendship, his friends hella ditched him to vanquish in a watery grave.

This is wild!

Seto’s words were “Good riddance” as the island went down, and you could not tell if he was talking about the island or about Yugi.

That and Kaiba Really Hates Islands. LOVES watching an island go up in smoke (or underwater, in this case). Loves nothing more.

Seto, your powers of friendship were just used to save the world.

Apparently the standard for friendship power is...not much. But they did just make Yami, of all people, do a literal Jesus in Gethsemane so...the bar for morality is just not very high in this anime.

Did the Great Leviathan stitch Weevil Underwood’s body back together or something? This is...

...Yo Weevil are you immortal now? Are you the big bad in S5 that comes out of nowhere and kick’s Bakura’s ass back to the Shadow Realm like Marik in S2? Because I’ll accept that.

I won’t like it, but I’ll accept that.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

look at those toddler shoes worn by a full adult! Weevil Underwood is so over-designed for a super low-level miniboss and I low key love that they love Weevil Underwood this freakin much.

Of all people, Weevil Freakin Underwood.

Listen, listen, listen.

If Mikey was still alive, he’d be older.

He’d have been older in that Leviathan tummy, he’d be Alister’s age but he’s not. He’s uh...

Yo show that got real dark. Show this is what you should have done to Dartz. I love this sort of dark ending for a rude asshole who is going to try to put his family back together although it’s completely impossible--this would have been a good Dartz ending. But...whatever. It’s fine.

We’ll...let Dartz have his family back, it’s fine.

Meanwhile, in the first actual picture of California that really feels like California, Valon immediately accepts the fact that Mai left him.

This is also a great dark ending for Valon. To accept that the people in your life have moved on and that you, too, must move on, even if it’s alone. This would have been an excellent ending for Dartz.

And then Mai just bounces. She does not seek out Joey Wheeler, because she’s like “I have to fix some stuff, I have some serious problems, and it’s going to take a really long time before I can get over my toxic past.” and just freakin leaves us. Sorry, anyone who was hoping Joey and Mai would smooch at any point, it’s uh...it’s not legal yet.

And TBH I don’t even know if Valon is legal either, and the show decided to not reveal that to us, or allow them to smooch.

And as for Raphael? Uh...

They didn’t bother, I think. I didn’t cap it, at least. But we did get at least one person washed up on a beach.

It would be Kuribo.

I talk about 2020 energy a lot in this season but like...wild 2020 energy here, to be so freakin chill and can I say--delighted--to be stranded on an abandoned island.

The show does not elaborate any more on if the cards are dead or alive, or if the games we are playing are with actual people forced to play these horrible games for us. It’s best that they don’t tell us. Just like Mr Mime. No one wants to know.

Mr Mime as in the Pokemon Mr Mime, PS, I just realized that there is a mime in this universe and he’s just...I don’t really want to know about that guy, either. All mimes honestly, I don’t want to know anything at all about all mimes.

Luckily, for Yugi, Kaiba didn’t fly very far from this island, and so we don’t have to have some sort of weird season cliffhanger where we guess how long Yugi can live off of coconuts (2 hours. he would last 2 hours on this island)

Although it would be such a cliffhanger to wonder what Yugi’s hair would look like after that. the same, right? Like it’s the same amount of grease and nasty stuff? He’d just have his roots growing out?

And there they go--goodbye Dues Ex Machina Cards. Either the show can’t keep you on board because you’re hella broken, or the three dragon warriors died, or retired, or whatever it is when a card is like “I’m done with humanity, please leave me alone and never call me again.”

Did Seto low key just break up with his side piece just now? Tragic.

Remember that time that Yugi was so bouyant he was armpits out of the water in S2? It’s crazy how bouyant Yugi Muto is. Like if someone did one of those anime cross-sections of his anatomy, he needs like 3 or 4 duck shaped pool floaties in there.

Now, full disclosure, I have written the ending to this post 3 times because tumblr keeps deleting this post out of my drafts folder (I shouldn’t be writing this in my drafts folder, being real, it’s been really buggy lately, and I’m gonna have to make a different solution to this) So I’m just...

...gonna end on this note. This exciting note that Bakura is next. Finally, Bakura (JK of course, because apparently Bakura doesn’t show up for half the season. Bro told me this and offered that we should skip that filler and of course I told him that is not the point of this blog and we will be watching all of that gruesome filler piece by piece. Because for someone, out there--that filler is their favorite episode. I don’t know who you are--but get ready for filler.)

Now Yami could just...call up Bakura at any point at his house and make an appointment to end the world...but maybe S5 will go a different direction? We shall see.

Anyway, that’s it for this Season! Thanks all for sticking with us when I just...didn’t have an upload schedule for this entire year. It’s been a YEAR. But, I’m hoping for good things in the future, and that things will adjust back to a normal upload schedule and that...hopefully tumblr won’t die or something weird like that.

I’m gonna finish the Full Metal alchemist Live Action movie next (we’re like halfway through) and then after that--onward to to S5! See y’all there!

Stay safe!

(and here’s the link to read these in chrono order if you’re new here:

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

[kriber]

ok well since im Thinking about it now lemme just make a huge ass masterpost of my tmavrai au bc im stupid lmao (also i wanna get into using this blog for more than art since this is my main)

buckle up cowboys this is gonna be lengthy

ok so to start off, it’s a kind of fusion au. some tma characters are replaced with hlvrai characters, and some just exist on their own. for example, elias is replaced with gman, but jon and gordon both coexist together

speaking of jon and gordon, they’re both eye avatars and co-archivists of the magnus archives. gman fucked up a little bit while filing shit but its fine, its fine. they’re both fit for the job.

tommy, darnold, and coomer work at the institute in various departments, along with tim, martin, and barney. tim and tommy have been best friends for years and live together as roommates, and darnold’s another one of their closest friends. coomer and martin just chill there, and barney likes to talk to gordon a lot. tommy brings sunkist over a lot, who everyone loves

since his dad is basically the head avatar of the eye, tommy asked him one time how to make a dog and gman, because that’s his little boy, told him how. now there’s an immortal entity soup dog that’s way too big to be normal. but that just means she has more love in her :)

jon and gordon kinda tolerate each other at first, being forced to record in the same area, but they tend to... tune into each other a lot. they sometimes read statements in unison, even if one of them isn’t looking at the statement. they take turns speaking in dialogue parts if need be, and they dont really notice it.

eventually prentiss attacks and gordon notices something... off about their coworker benrey. wait- wasn’t his name barney? no, he was probably remembering wrong. but something about benrey is just... weird. he cant put his finger on it, and jon has no input. 

so yea benrey is a not-them and a stranger entity, and they just kinda chill in the archives and check ppls passports at the door. its also pretty fun harrassing feetman, especially when they can just pop in and out of michael’s doors bc they’re friends with the spiral. unknowing goes well, as you can assume ;w;

after they find gertrude’s body in the tunnels, several cops get called in. basira and daisy come over, supplying jon with tapes, but daisy brings her old high school/college friend forzen, who’s in the military. and yea they’re both hunt avatars. it was simple and obvious don’t blame me. he hunts ppl down by having beyblade competitions then shooting them. standard stuff.

tommy had gotten claimed by the slaughter years back, but now its really starting to take effect. coomer, local end avatar, isn’t much help, as he doesn’t exactly view death as a problematic thing and even compliments tommy on his kills. during jon and gordon’s comas, forzen goes rogue (instead of burying himself like daisy) and tommy goes after him, trying to mercy kill any victims he has his sights set on. its a body count contest at that point

bubby takes the place of agnes montegue, but still alive and not as hostile to the main cast. obv bc coomer’s there and i love me some gay grampas. yea bubby’s kinda forsaking his desolation cult thing but he’s fine. he just goes and chills at the archives a lot to get with coomer

after the unknowing, things go to shit. martin and benrey close themselves off, both allying themselves with peter lukas, to defend the institute and its workers. tommy and darnold are heartbroken after tim’s death, and tommy, unable to deal with living alone without tim or living in his dad’s house (who’s in prison now), moves in with darnold. its angst central babeyyy

darnold, basira, alyx, georgie, and melanie start a group chat called “babysitting the avatars squad” since they’re the only humans left allied to the institute or its workers. they vent about shit their avatars do bc good lord they can do some weird shit sometimes. oh also alyx and georgie are cousins here bc i feel like its funny that both gordon’s and jon’s childhood friends are related and no one knew dfgshgfgsfghgfrsbfsxg

for the last thing im gonna cover bc im tired and i dont want to type anymore is that joshua definitely exists and oh boy it gets fun in the apocalypse. he runs around and plays around with all the domains with tommy and benrey and the other three are way too tired to deal with this. he just wants to give daddy a flower! ignore the eyeball, it’s just a normal flower! how... sweet.