#just need my undercut to grow out a little more first

[n7punk]

fascinated by multiple torties specifically, but to answer the question i shaved my entire head a month into lockdown (did not take me long but tbf i already needed a haircut when it started) but didn't like it

[i-like-gay-books]

just bought myself a new set of hair cutting scissors and a fine toothed comb and midterm papers are about to be underway you know what’s up

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. baby talk.

about. you know how people raise their voices all high and squeal, and pout through their words when they talk to babies?…yeah? well imagine that with your husband, katsuki.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, baby talking (lots of w’s involved), cutesy speech, baby doesn’t have a name, new parents, reader is referred to as mommy, fem!reader, girl dad + pro hero!bakugou, uncle!deku.

you’ve always known your husband, bakugou, to be slightly rough around the edges. being the man that he is, and witnessing first hand every struggle he’s ever gone through, it’s hard to imagine him without his hardened outer shell. your katsuki has stood on the brink of death more than once — testing, fighting it… all while facing a world that saw him as good for nothing and evil. 

how could you expect a man like that to be anything other than defensive, brash and bold? katsuki bakugou can be a little harsh, a little too mean at times but that’s never deterred you from giving him all the love he thinks he doesn’t deserve. you’d give him all the stars in the sky if you could, and he would give you the universe in turn. 

he was far from cookie cutter perfect, yet, even with his bumps and sharp edges, katsuki tried to love you and let you in. still, you’d never thought you’d see the day when all of the blonde’s roughness, his bared fangs and callous tongue all melted away for another human being aside from you. 

for your darling baby girl. 

“who’s my ‘eepy lil’ girl? you are! yeah. you are, sweetheart. oh, what’s that? big yawn for daddy?” the blonde coos with a sunshine smile that lights up the entirety of his well-aged face. you’re still young, for parents of a eight month old but even you can see the way that his hair is slightly silvered at his undercut that’s growing out and there are finer lines under ruby framed eyes (the late nights and early starts are probably the reason for that). 

still, with all of this, and even with your genetics throwing a spanner in the works — your daughter is the spitting image of bakugou and he loves her. he loves her pale blonde curls, big bambi red eyes and her all the parts about her that remind him of you. 

pulling her from her crib to settle her on his hip, the bigger bakugou rubs the sleep from her eyes as she wakes up from her nap. “so freakin’ cute.” he hums, licking his thumb to wipe over the traces of tears on her cheeks.

ever since she was born, earlier and around spring time, bakugou has been absolutely obsessed with the tiny human version of him you'd blessed him with. he’ll be the first one up at the crack of dawn when she cries for her breakfast, he’s happy to carry around her dynamight themed baby bag and always apologises to you when you have to change her explosive diapers (or he just does it for you.).

baby dynamight goes everywhere with her daddy, she’d be on patrols if you’d let bakugou take her on them too. she’s absolutely spoiled as well, with more clothes and toys and itty bitty little shoes a baby of her age would need despite how often you tell your husband that she’ll just grow out everything. perhaps your little girl is more spoiled than you — not that you mind, because it only means you get to witness adorable moments like these each and every day.

“katsuki, she’s supposed to be lying down.” you remind him gently, stepping past the threshold of the nursery to be by his side. your daughter instantly reaches out to curl three of her tiny fingers around your index, drooling in content between both of her parents.

bakugou looks down at you with a distraught pout. “yeah… but she woke up cryin’ f’me so i came to check on my sweepy wittol pwincess.” you giggle at how high pitched katsuki makes his voice when he talks about your daughter, baby-talking her whilst waving her tiny little hand at you. “say hi to momma, sweet girl. say hi!” 

the mini bakugou tucked into his bulky arms lets out an excited squeal — though she’s quickly distracted by mapping her hands up and down the squiggly lines (tattoos) on daddy’s arms. 

“exactly,” you press, grabbing an uravity themed spit up cloth from the diaper station behind you moth. carefully, you mop up the drool tracks baby dynamight leaves on katsuki before dabbing at her chin as well. “we’re trying to get her to learn how to go back to sleep on her own. which means?” 

“leavin’ her to cry until she falls back to sleep….” 

“which is why?” 

bakugou’s shoulders sag in defeat. you know how much he hates leaving her to cry, it’s been difficult for him to adjust to not just picking her up whenever she needs or he wants to. “you invited stupid deku over ‘n daddy has to have stupid drinks with his big stupid broccoli head, ain’t that right gorgeous?” your baby grins with her gums again and bakugou blows a raspberry at her. “oh yeah? yes it is! look at that pretty girl smilin’, just like momma.” 

you know he’s trying to butter you up for more time with her — you’re a sucker for the father-daughter bond they have already, you fear that you might melt if you look at the two of them together any longer. they’re a sight for sore eyes, the two loves of your life cuddled up with each other, baby bakugou’s pudgy cheek resting on katsuki’s warm chest (no doubt lulling her back to sleep).

“katsuki please,” you plead weakly, ready to give up on being the rain on this baby parade so you can scoop your little girl up and shower her with kisses. “we have guests and she needs to go back to sleep. or she’ll be up in the middle of the night.” 

the elder blonde can’t help the proud smile that illuminates his face as he watches his two girls together — the way you fiddle with her baby grow to make sure she’s cosy. “s’okay, daddy’ll wake up for you, won’t he?” bakugou sways from side to side, toying with all the tiny features on your daughter before catching your exasperated look. “alright, fine. back to sleep we go princess. don’t mind mommy, she’s jus’ bein’ meanie who won’t let me show you off.” 

there’s a tender moment, where time stands still, while katsuki lowers his pride and joy back into her crib — fighting back what are probably tears as she clings onto every part of him, looking up at him with her matching big beautiful ruby eyes. he feels as though he’s looking into a mirror that reflects not only him but parts of you as well. 

“night night princess, goodnight! daddy loves ya—“

said moment is lost when izuku stops by the nursery on his way back down stairs from the bathroom. “wait, kacchan baby-talks?” 

“of course i do nerd!” bakugou’s head whips up faster than the speed of sound, and you have to refrain from laughing at how fast he goes from soft and tender father to deku’s public enemy number one. “she’s my fuckin’—”  the blonde pauses after receiving a warning glance from you. no cursing in front of the baby. “freakin’ kid!”

the number one raises his hands in surrender, sheepish laughter spilling out of him. “relax kacchan! i was only teasing.” 

“tease my ass! you go ‘nd have a kid with your partner ‘n see what it turns you into — in fact, ‘m surprised you don’t have a whole litter already. what with the way you two are fuckin’.”

“oh that’s rich coming from you, kacchan. you guys  literally conceived at my family barbecue last year!” 

“well you fucked on my desk. my desk. so it’s only right that we—!” 

while the boys bicker, you make quick work of ensuring your daughter is safely tucked in and her pacifier is popped into her mouth just in case she wakes up again and needs to soothe herself. stroking back her peach fuzz curls, you press a kiss to the soft membrane of her skull and pull back with a wistful grin while she drifts off to sleep again. her unfairly long lashes flutter against your hand, mostly inherited from her father.

“alright boys, that’s enough!” you whisper yell, hands still on the bar of the crib to make “don’t you see that she’s sleeping again? we wouldn’t wanna wake her up, right?” 

katsuki pouts. “you’re right, sorry, sweetness.” 

midoriya nods along agreeably, taking a peek at his sleeping niece from the doorway.“right! otherwise we’d have to send daddy back in there to save baby girl’s day. he can’t resist his pwecious gwirl.” 

“i said shut the fuck up, izuku!” your husband snarls, cheeks burning fire truck red. 

“yes daddy!” izuku bats his eyelashes at him.

“i’ll kill you, nerd.”

“i’d like to see you try, daddy!”

“boys!” 

you do try your best to intercept, but your daughter beats you to it — waking up with a fresh set of tears and a wail so loud it has two big, burly pro heroes baby-talking her in an attempt to get her right back to sleep.  

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[yuujispinkhair]

Hello Winter!! Love you and your writing! Here’s a thirst for you on thirsty Thursday: beautiful strong man Kuna comes home after a long day of dealing with his twin Yuji and he just wants to relax but you’re just overly excited and just keep talking and talking and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you to shut up so he just kisses you and tells you to drop to your knees so he can get his annoyance out and then he’ll listen to your sweet voice once he’s done.

Don’t KNOW WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT NEED SUKUNA TO JUST SHUT ME UP 🥴

Aww that's so sweet of you!! I am sending you lots of love!! 💗💗 And omggg I love that thirst!!! Thank you for sharing it with me! I need him to shut me up like that, too 💗💗 I had to write a little drabble because this was too delicious ;)

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 600 Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (Sukuna + Reader receiving). All characters are of age. Divider by @/benkeibear

Sukuna is a gentleman when it comes to you. He is much softer with you than he ever thought he could be. So, no, Sukuna chooses not to outright tell you to shut up. But he still knows exactly what to do to get what he wants.

Large, strong hands land on your waist and pull you onto Sukuna's lap,

"Come here, princess."

That sexy grin is on his face as he leans closer. And then his lips are on yours, moving slowly but firmly against yours while his muscular arms wrap around your body and keep you in place.

Sukuna smiles into the kiss when he feels you practically melt against him, sighing so sweetly when his tongue pushes between your lips and licks teasingly into your mouth. He knows how to kiss you right, knows exactly what to do to make you shut up.

Soon, your fingers are dancing over his undercut and running through his pink hair as you lick eagerly against his tongue, opening your sweet mouth even further for him, letting him kiss you deep and slow just like you love it.

Sukuna kisses you until you are all putty in his strong hands, moaning softly into his mouth and tugging on his hair while unconsciously grinding against the growing bulge in Sukuna's pants.

You groan when he pulls away from the kiss with one last teasing flick of his tongue. But Sukuna puts a long finger on your lips before you can complain, maroon eyes looking deeply into yours, lips lifted in an amused smirk,

"You'll get more kisses, I promise. But first, I want you to get on your knees and make out with my cock just like you made out with my tongue right now."

His cock twitches when you slip off his lap and push his muscular thighs apart to kneel between them. Yes, this is what he needs after a day like that: Your sweet lips wrapped around his cock, the only noises you make loud slurps and cute moans, your spit drooling all over his hard length, your velvety tongue tracing every throbbing vein on his dick, your soft lips making out with his swollen tip until loud groans fall from his lips and he feels his balls tightening.

Sukuna pushes your head down onto his twitching cock, soft praise falling from his lips as he busts his whole milky load into your mouth, giving you a copious amount of cum to swallow before you can talk again.

He feels so much lighter afterward, sighing contentedly as his spent cock slips out of your mouth. A smile spreads over his tattooed face as you lift your head and lick your swollen lips, getting every last drop of his cum, like the good girl that you are. Just like Sukuna makes sure to get every last drop of your cum when he pulls you back on the couch and eats your sweet pussy until you cream on his tongue and squeal his name.

It's the first thing you say since the moment he effectively shut you up with his kisses.

But now everything is perfect again. The stress has left Sukuna's body, his mind is clear again, and the headache that was threatening to take over is gone. And you look happy, too, as Sukuna pulls you into his arms, wrapping them around you and pulling you against his body so the two of you are cuddled up tightly on the couch, legs intertwined and the whole length of your bodies touching.

Sukuna presses a tender kiss to your forehead and finally asks,

"So, how was your day, princess? Tell me everything."

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Okay so hear me out. You know how III has an undercut, right? Well, what if he's... Letting it grow out, now that they're not on tour.. All I can think about is tangling my fingers in the short hair and gently pulling on it as he eats me out like a starved man 😩😩

Something sweet

Let me tell you smth… let me tell you smth!!!!

It’s one of those evenings where you haven’t made any plans. Nothing was on the agenda and you knew that alone lifted a huge chunk of fatigue off of iii shoulders. You always let him take the lead during the first couple of days back home after the tour was finished. He craved the stability of the home waiting for him. Of you always welcoming him back. And while he wasn’t always a clinger, the first days back he embodied your shadow.

Here he was now, on his third nap of the day. Head resting on your chest, body practically covering yours. The show you two had been watching off and on since the morning playing in the background. You felt iii hand move slightly beneath your shirt where he had been aimlessly kneading your breast before falling asleep. He nuzzles deeper into you with a satisfied sigh before blinking up at you.

“How was your nap, sleeping beauty?”, you smile at him, brushing some of his messy hair away from his face. iii shoots you one of his goofy grins. “Always good when I can sleep on you”, he mutters, “Would be even better if it was in you”. You can’t help but chuckle, “Oh, I don’t doubt it”. You also weren’t too surprised to feel his hands slowly moving towards the flimsy shorts you had on.

“Don’t you want to eat first”, you cupped his face, looking over to the side table, “It’s past 3 pm already and we only…fuck”, you wimped at the feeling of iii slowly slipping his fingers up and down your folds. “You were saying, darling?”, the bastard pushed on, and you could hear the smile on his face. “Food”, you breathed out at the feeling of III slowing crawling down your body, stopping to nibble at your exposed skin.

“Now that you mentioned it”, he mused against your hip, “I am hungry”. A strange sort of disappointment flushed through you. But you could wait. His well-being was more important. Just before you could move, iii slipped of the sofa and dragged your hips with him.

“For something sweet that is”, his blue eyes burned into you. “You need proper food”, you tried to argue. “I intend to have a full course meal down here, don’t you worry”, he reassured you, not bothering to fully undress you, just pushing the silky material to the side as he bit onto your inner thigh. A whimper slipped past your lips as that familiar heat burned in your stomach. Your hand pure on muscle memory reached for iii hair.

You loved the clean shaved undercut he had. It was sexy and all but it left little room for you to grasp on. Now you were more than happy that he had gotten too lazy to retouch it towards the end of the tour. You threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling it up slightly. The moan that iii let out again your cunt had you throwing your head back from the vibration it seemed to send down your body.

“iii”, you grinned deeper into him. He hummed in return, clasping both of his hands over your hips as he swirled his tongue over your sensitive bud before continuing to fuck you with it. He seemed to be in every fiber of your body as you arched from the sofa. Grasping for support and once again finding your hands slipping into his hair. “Fuck, please”, you whimpered feeling the tightness slowly climbing up and up.

iii parted your thighs, that threatened to clamp his head between your heat, open, making you cry in despair even more. And then as if it was even possible he pressed into your heat even more his mustache crating that last bit of friction sending you toppling over the edge. You didn’t even get to tell him that you were close as your juices gush all over his face. Any other man would pull away but not iii. Lapping at it like a man starved.

And then his fingers switched places with his tongue and from the way his eyes were burning you know what he was after. “No, iii”, you whined, feeling his two fingers stretching you out. “I can’t”, you mused but it’s too late, his thumb pressed into your still throbbing clitoris as he pumped his fingers in and out. Your toes curled as you cried out his name over and over panting at the rekindled flame.

“Come on, be a good girl”, he grunted while licking his lips, “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” You didn’t even know if you were nodding or saying anything. The pressure building and the steady brutality of the way he was fingering you was enough to make you see stars. He leaned to bite down onto your breast, taking your nipple between his teeth and all the mighty tides broke. You grasped for his hand trying to push it away but for no use. Your juices flowed down both of your bodies. “Good job”, iii praised, “Look what a pretty mess you made”, he mused giving your pussy a couple of taps before leaning in to kiss you.

[dix0nvix3n]

➳જ⁀➴ 𝕯𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 ⟡

₊˚✩ ₊˚ 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶/𝔥𝔢/𝔰𝔥𝔢 | 21 | 𝔈𝔑𝔉𝔓 | 𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔩𝔲𝔦𝔡 | 𝔞𝔲𝔡𝔥𝔡 𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 ₊˚✩ ₊˚

⭑✧˖°𖤓 Hi!! On this account I would prefer to be called Dagger as I would not like to reveal my real name here. I write X Reader fics for Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead and Scud from Blade 2. I'm completely new to writing so please be gentle lol. 𖤓°˖✧⭑

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩

⛥ 18+ to interact with me and my NSFW work, NSFW will always be marked as 18+, those works will say mdni but if you are a minor and do end up reading those fics, remember that I am not responsible for your media consumption.

⛥ Although I'm genderfluid I feel the most comfortable writing the reader as afab with she/her pronouns, I may potentially write gender neutral reader fics though. These things aside, anyone of any identity is of course allowed to read my work.

⛥ My fics will always come with a warning description of some kind and if I ever miss something you think should be in the warning, please let me know!

⛥ As I said I currently only write for Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead and Scud Frohmeyer from Blade 2, I hope to branch out to more Norman Reedus characters and maybe characters not played by him someday but I'm completely new to writing and really only know how to write for them so far.

⛥ Please note that I have severe anxiety when it comes to interacting with anything online which makes it very hard for me to reply to comments and comment on things, repost, and I often will love a fic and not even like the post because I get so in my head thinking that person will think of my interaction as weird. I know this probably doesn't make sense to a lot of people but please try and understand, I am currently trying to work on this but please know It's gonna take me a very long time.

ℜ𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔰

⛥ I currently don't take requests because they seem a bit overwhelming for me at this time being but you can send me any thoughts and ideas you have about Daryl and Scud (some other Norman characters too! I have lots of thoughts about other characters Norman has played I just don't know how to write for them yet!) and I will try and give you my thoughts and ideas back!

ℑ𝔫𝔣𝔬

⛥ Masterlist: Will be made at some point!!

⛥ Fics:

Stoner Daryl x Stoner Reader 18+ ✶❀

COMING SOON

Daryl x Reader Alexandria Christmas One-Shot ❀ COMING SOON

Scud X Reader Blade's Lair 18+ One-Shot ✶❀

COMING SOON

✶- Smut | ✧- Suggestive ❀-Fluff | ☽-Angst

𝔉𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔰 𝔄𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔐𝔢

⛥ I'm Autistic and have ADHD, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, probably several other problems I'm not aware of myself yet lmao, and I am also Anemic.

⛥ I've been to at least 15 concerts but need to recount actually how many, including 3 Warped Tours, so sorry to anyone who never got to go they were truly such unique experiences.

⛥ I have 7 piercings but have been pierced 8 times, fucked up my first eyebrow piercing lol. In order I got a septum, right eyebrow, daith, bridge, two helixes in one day, a conch and also my right eyebrow repierced on the same day. Also all the ear piercings are on my right ear cause I used to have the right side of my head shaved and an undercut so my left ear was never visible but with my new haircut,,, I really need some for the left ear.

⛥ Also, the conch jewelery is my only special piece of jewelery I have and I got it in memory of two things. The conch piece is a titanium dagger with a simple little jewel in the middle, when I saw it I immediately thought of Daryl and his big knives/daggers and also a reference to the band Witchdagger from Night In The Woods, a game that fundamentally helped me grow as a person.

⛥ The reason I changed my hair from the side shave was so I could actually grow it out and cut it to Scud's hairstyle, that fucker is soooo gender.

⛥ I don't know much about my zodiac signs but I'm a Cancer Sun, Scorpio Moon, Capricorn Rising.

⛥ My favorite fruits are peaches, oranges, and raspberries.

⛥ I edit occasionally when I have the mental energy which is rare but I post them @ daryldixonvixen on tiktok if anyone is interested, will possibly start posting my edits on instagram too :)

⛥ and uhhhh I'll keep adding to these when I think of more

And here's what the conch piercing looks like if anyone wanted to see it :]

[gemini-care-barr]

On the topic of Hal Jordan being maybe a bit better than anyone gives him credit for…

[I’m kidding ofc, we all know he’s a great guy, but bear with me for the sake of this post hahaha]

⚠️ Spoilers for Green Lantern #5 ⚠️

I get it, y’all, I really do. Hal can be pushy when it comes to love. And pretty undeserving of the love he pushes for because I mean how good is a guy that keeps professing his love to the same girl only to ditch her for long and unspecified stretches of time. Like of course, Carol keeps moving on, Hal, there’s absolutely no reason why she should wait around for some guy that loves her, but still leaves her! But hear me out…

Maybe Hal being pushy doesn’t actually change the fact that he’s a good guy. Maybe his pushiness is sincere. And maybe, just maybe, he’s a big enough person to set the whole “all is fair in love and war” thing aside to do what’s right and that’s what makes him so dang hard to resist.

So, this all stems from the latest issue of Green Lantern by Jeremy Adams and Xermánico which features Hal setting out to put a stop to Sinestro’s reign of terror across the earth. Hal’s first stop is Ferris Air as Sinestro has taken over all their unmanned drones to enact his plan. Carol catches Hal up on the situation and as he’s leaving to do his superheroics Carol hands him some nifty new communicators designed by her new fiance, Nate, y’know, the guy that Hal has been at one-sided odds with since the first issue of this new run. Hal, predictably, makes a snide little Hal-comment about Nate being smart and Carol, predictably, gives him no rope when she shortly replies that he’s “very” smart. I’ll always love these terse little exchanges between them.

Hal later runs into the problem of the last two drones being too far away from each other, and too close to their intended targets, for him to reach them in time. This leads to him coming up with the idea of putting his piloting skills, and indomitable will, to the test by simultaneously sending two constructs in opposite directions to catch the last two drones. Carol puts Nate on the line, and this is where my admiration for Hal, and Adams as a writer, grows considerably, as rather than getting another typical Hal remark we get a man on a mission.

Hal doesn’t care who’s guiding him in, he doesn’t care that he’s lost the love of his life (for no reason other than his own hubris) and that the one who has earned her love is now talking to him one-on-one. Rather than taking the easy drama route of giving Hal yet another opportunity to undercut his latest rival, Adams instead opts for the much more in-character route of having Hal just be the hero that he is. Hal’s only care is that there are people in trouble and Nate is the only person who can help him. And man, do they make a great team.

And this is a fact that neither gets nor needs any particular highlighting from the story itself. No remarks about Nate being the one to guide Hal in are made. Nothing is said about how well Hal followed directions from his rival-in-love. And that’s kinda my favorite part of all of this, the conclusion that I’ve come to, that Hal is not in the least bit petty and is a wholly honorable person, is not a conclusion that the story busies itself with proving. It just is. Hal just is a hero. He just is a good guy. He just does the right thing because that’s the right thing to do and, man, does that make it hard to say no to him.

[loregoddess]

while writing the sleeping HCs I wrote something about Agnea needing a lot of time to brush out her hair and my brain was like "yeah sure, silly hair care headcanons be upon ye" so here we are (edition: both games!):

Ophilia: Takes very good care of her hair, but doesn't do anything fancy or special, Ophilia's hair just looks really nice if she's consistent with brushing and combing it. Tangles a bit, but not terribly (Lianna's hair tangles something fierce, and Ophilia got really good at brushing it out without causing any pain). Let's one of the nuns or Lianna cut her hair, and is generally fine with one of the other travelers cutting it (Primrose almost always does because she's fascinated by how soft and silky Ophilia's hair is with so little effort).

Cyrus: Despite his best efforts, his hair tangles fairly easily. Brushes and combs it regularly, but doesn't actually worry that much about how it looks (although it always ends up looking very nice, which Cyrus is of course, not aware of). Ties it back to keep it out of his face while reading, but honestly has more loose strands than not. Absolutely attempts to cut his own hair to save himself time, which is why the length is so uneven, and yet it still somehow manages to look nice when he's finished.

Tressa: Has a sort of undercut style where she can tie the longer top layer up underneath her hat and keep it all out of her face at once, but still wanted the option to wear her hair long and loose if she wanted (listen, the official artworks are inconsistent with Tressa's hair, this is the best explanation I have). More interested in selling hair tonics than using them herself, and actually has a fairly simple hair care routine. Hair doesn't tangle easily and is thin enough Tressa can get by with just a comb most days. Prefers to let her parents cut her hair, and will only let Primrose or Ophilia cut it while traveling (doesn't mind letting barbers cut her hair, but only after she's inspected their past work thoroughly).

Olberic: Wavy hair, but keeps it slicked back with a tonic to keep it out of his face (used to keep it shorter when he was younger, and then decided to grow it out on a whim when he realized it wouldn't be too hard to keep out of his face). Hair hardly tangles, but Olberic's pretty regular about combing it so it doesn't have much of a chance to tangle in the first place (all his personal grooming habits come from his knight training). Usually just gets it cut at a barber's, will let the other travelers cut it though.

Primrose: Has the most complex hair care routine, although her hair isn't naturally inclined to tangles. Would prefer to cut her own hair, but allows others to cut it depending on the situation (enjoys taking care of other people's hair though). Brushes and combs it before going to sleep and after waking up despite the fact that her hair rarely tangles while she's asleep. Hair starts to curl in humid environments, and is incredibly thick and strong.

Alfyn: Hair hardly tangles but this isn't obvious because it looks like a mess at any given time (his hair is just wavy/curly). Uses a tonic that sort of acts like a gel so he can get most of the shorter strands up and out of his face. Alfyn's hair is thin enough that it looks smooth and lays flat when he ties it back, but it would look nothing short of a lion's mane if he let it all loose. Aside from the tonic, doesn't really do anything special with his hair. Will ask whoever's around for a trim when he needs one.

Therion: Hair doesn't tangle often which is a miracle considering he doesn't always brush it daily. Not too fussy about his hair, except when he needs to disguise himself, but doesn't neglect it either (in general is very good about his own personal health, he did after all somehow manage to recover from a very steep fall seemingly alone). Therion also cuts his own hair and refuses to let anyone else cut it. Begrudgingly lets some of the other travelers brush it when they ask, but only after traveling together for several months.

H'aanit: Doesn't have a fancy routine but is very careful with brushing, combing, and braiding her hair (it's not practical for hunting, she just likes keeping her hair long). Hair is thick and a bit frizz-prone, and therefore a pain to brush out if it tangles. Linde wants to join when she realizes H'aanit is doing "social cat things (ft: grooming)" and gets brushes when H'aanit finishes with her own hair. Cuts her own hair, but only because Z'aanta failed Once at cutting her hair nicely when she was younger (also cuts Z'aanta's hair).

Ochette: Hair doesn't tangle as easily as one might expect, but Ochette also takes a fair amount of time to brush and comb it as part of her personal grooming routine, which she takes very seriously. Beastling brushes are designed in a way that she can brush both her tail and hair, and she probably brushes Akala as well (Mahina preens her own feathers, but will do so at the same time that Ochette is taking care of her hair). Doesn't mind tying her hair back, but only if it's a bit loose. Cuts her own hair, isn't too fussy about how good it looks, but usually it comes out really nicely. Enjoys helping others with their hair a lot too (used to brush Juvah's mane a lot).

Castti: Prefers to keep her hair tied back out of her face, and will also sleep with it tied back. Absolute mess of tangles if she sleeps with it loose or gets caught by the wind, and it takes her forever to brush it out afterwards. Makes her own hair tonic and tries to keep up with her hair for health purposes (although she sometimes forgets to brush it regularly if she's had a rough load of work). Will usually ask someone else to cut her hair, and Eir's Apothecaries used to take turns cutting each other's hair, but will also just try and hack off the split ends herself is no one is around (hair length is a bit uneven when she does this).

Throne: Incredibly fussy about her hair, and very particular about her hair care routine (it helps calm Throne's nerves, and gave her a bit of personal freedom early in her life). Had to learn to cut her own hair because of the looming threat of internal assassination attempts, and isn't keen on letting other people cut it for her as a result. Throne's hair is about average for how much it does or doesn't tangle, although her hair is naturally very silky so it's easy to remove the tangles.

Osvald: He keeps it long because it's wavy and frizzy enough to be an absolute horror of bushy curls if it's cut too short, and finds it easier to tie back when he's researching. Brushes his hair regularly as a habit to keep up with his personal health, but doesn't really care much about how it looks. Osvald's also bad about getting the split ends cut, and only gets his hair trimmed when someone offers to do it for him (Rita used to take care of trimming his hair). Tangles fairly easily and takes some time to brush out (was the worst after his two-day trip passed out in the ice boat). Very picky about how he keeps his facial hair though.

Partitio: Hair would tangle a bit if he grew it any longer, but Partitio's hair is also thick enough that taking care of it while it's longer is more of a hassle than it's worth. Uses a tonic to slick it back, although his hair's wavy-curly enough to need a fair amount of tonic. Takes good care of his hair, since he knows having a professional appearance is just as important in making a sale as the quality of the products being sold, and was taught all his hair care routines from Roque. Usually just relies on the local barber to cut his hair, and has had varying results from other barbers he's encountered on his travels (after a particularly bad haircut, Throne convinced him to trust her with cutting his hair, which actually worked out due to her precision).

Agnea: Wakes up with the worst bedhead and it takes her a good while to brush it out. In general, her hair is very prone to tangling which is why Agnea keeps it braided most of the time. Surprisingly thin hair, but this isn't obvious unless it's braided because Agnea's hair is very wavy and looks like it has a lot of body to it. Agnea takes good care of her hair though, and travels with a few different tonics to keep it healthy. Pala and Agnea cut each other's hair, typically, although Garud used to cut their hair when they were younger.

Temenos: His hair rarely tangles, and he really just needs a comb to keep it in order. One of the clerics was the designated hair-cutter in the church where he and Roi were raised, but Temenos decided to start cutting his own hair in his early teens and has refused to let anyone touch it since (insists this has nothing to do with the fact that one of the other cleric's had their ear snipped on accident). At first his self-cut hair was a mess, but he's become quite proficient. Doesn't really do anything special otherwise though.

Hikari: Very soft and smooth hair, although it means Hikari needs a hair tie coated in a special substance to keep the tie from slipping out when he ties it back. Takes incredibly good care of his hair as a matter of discipline and routine. It doesn't tangle easily, but is easy enough to comb out when it does. For reasons Hikari hasn't figured out, almost everyone he's met wants to comb his hair if he's okay with it, despite him being perfectly capable of the task himself.

[ape-apocalypse]

Road To The Kingdom - Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes Film

I remember seeing the trailers for Rise of the Planet of the Apes, shaking my head at yet another remake of a long-ago franchise. In 2011, we were hearing rumors of a new Spider-Man coming to replace Tobey Maguire and now I was looking at Harry, son of the Green Goblin, becoming a scientist and creating a drug to make apes smarter. On the other hand, Andy Serkis was getting a main role, more screen time than Gollum in Lord of the Rings, where I adored him and was eager to see him again. I was going in with some hesitation but decided to just turn my brain off for a summer action movie. 

I was surprised with how much I enjoyed Rise. Many fans seem to put this as their least favorite of the reboot trilogy. I can understand why; it doesn't have nearly as much action as Dawn or War and runs at a slower pace. But what it did have was fantastic character building in Caesar, which is needed in this trilogy. I would not be as engaged with these movies if I didn't love Caesar. Seeing him start as a little baby with his human family living a carefree youth, and then grow into a mature ape questioning his place in the world really filled out his character. He could have easily just been a random lab chimp who got smarter but I think the slow-build really fleshes him out. You empathize with him when he protects James Franco's father to the point of biting a neighbor. The human world completely turns on him and Caesar is forced to realize his true nature as an ape. 

Andy Serkis is truly allowed to shine in this role. Gollum was fun and had the two different sides to play with but there is such a powerful subtlety to this performance. Though Caesar can sign, it's mostly not translated into subtitles; only in two conversations with Maurice does the audience get a translation. The majority of the film and Caesar's story is carried out entirely through his expressions, gestures, and body language. Look at the tall confident walk he has when directing Rocket to give cookies to the other apes. The heartbreak I felt as Caesar's expression falls when his human family says he can't go home. The wordless fury when Buck the gorilla sacrifices himself on the bridge to bring down the helicopter and save the escaping apes. Even when the story can get bogged down a bit in the constant science explanations, I immediately perk up when the focus switches back to Caesar and can soak in the incredible performance of Andy Serkis.

Rise is much less action filled than its sequel films because it has to cover a lot as set up for the apocalypse to come. That set up is good, but again the science is a lot and can be a bore. However I think the pay off works. The horror of a simple graphic of the Earth, where one line splits and becomes many more, spreading across the planet, was very effective for me. I've heard people who didn't like that the apocalypse that destroys the human race is done in the credits, that it feels more like an afterthought. But for me, I think it was a powerful hook. Halfway through watching the film for the first time, I'd forgotten that this was Rise of the PLANET of the Apes. So I was excited for Caesar and his apes to escape, just happy that they'd gotten their freedom. Then the sick pilot and the spreading sickness animation hit me like a ton of bricks like "Oh shit, I forgot the humans have to die for the ape world to happen!" This probably didn't happen for everyone, especially those familiar with the original movies, but I liked the ending, undercutting the triumph of the apes with the doom of humanity.

Other than Will and his father Charles, the rest of the human cast is mostly forgettable, servicing the story where needed. Tom Felton of Harry Potter fame is a bit fun in his over-the-top hatred of the apes. When he gets to say the iconic "get your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty ape", my movie theater laughed at how forced the line felt, which I'm sure was not the intention. The weirdness of the line was swallowed up by the excitement of Caesar speaking for the first time and leading the apes out of the shelter, but I still remember the laughter of the audience when rewatching this movie. 

Overall, I think it's a great start to the series. Not the most exciting of the films, definitely dragged down by a lot of science exposition and unremarkable human characters, but a good intro to the world, setting up the apocalypse and making you root for a bunch of apes over the humans. You probably could jump directly into Dawn and War if you wanted, just knowing that humanity was wiped out by an illness that made apes smarter and Caesar is the leader, but I think getting to know Caesar makes it worth a watch before the more exciting films.

(Note that this is the only movie in this trilogy that does not have a novelization, likely because it was the first film and they didn't know how well the trilogy would do. It's a shame because I would have loved to read the thoughts of Caesar finding his place among both humans and apes.)

Intro / Next

[bionicle-ramblings]

More humanized Bionicle stuff because I left a few things out of my first post and I have a few thoughts to share

I went into detail about how Vakama looks, i.e. hair and eye color, but I never did that with the other Toa:

Nokama is the second tallest after Nuju. She doesn't wear heels, it's all natural. Her long is dark, enough for it to shine blue in the sun. Also following her OG set design, her eyes are an orange-amber color.

Since Matau can't exactly grow his hair out, he dyes it and his natural roots grew when he was given the Toa Stone by Lhikan. His hair is also a constant mess because he has helmet hair. People are surprised to see his red eyes, but Matau says it adds to his charm.

Onewa either has light brown hair or dark blond hair that he ties back in a ponytail. Has the most riveting blue eyes in the team and he uses that to his advantage so that he wins in a staring contest against Matau(because I firmly believe that he's bi and a disaster sometimes)

Nuju is the tallest. He knows it. Despite sometime spent in the sun, Nuju is a little pale. Actually, he's VERY pale. His hair is white as snow and his eyes are such a pale blue they might was well be white. He doesn't smile a lot and it shows because he doesn't have any smile lines on his face.

Whenua is the shortest in the group, but don't be fooled. He is still a tank, he is a walking Boulder. The man is nearly solid muscle. His hair is basically an undercut with the top being box braided and he has to untie the braids and retie them when he bathes or showers. He's got very green eyes like Vakama, but his are slightly more vibrant. And they're like a cat's in that they glow in the dark, which the others know from first-hand experience because they've either awoken to seeing Whenua's eyes only or they looked at Whenua at the right angle when it was dark.

With descriptions out of the way, time for shenanigans!

In an arm wrestling contest, for fun and games, Whenua, oddly enough, won against the other Toa. Matau and Onewa wanted a rematch, but Whenua, to pull their legs, told them not to hurt themselves and wait until later

Vakama and Whenua need to be reminded to go to bed because they're both used to staying up late

Nokama 100% does yoga. The others have tried it and Nuju, Whenua, and Vakama do partake in doing it. Onewa and Matau tried, but Matau cannot do it for long because he prefers more active activities. Onewa just doesn't have the best balance

Vakama and Whenua occasionally braid each other's hair, though really it's a "them" thing that developed because Whenua got just out of the bath and asked Vakama for help rebraiding his hair. As they were braiding, Vakama asked if the braids mean anything, like if each braid is a number of rahi or bit of information in the archives or if each braid is a year Whenua worked in the archives, but Whenua just admits he has them because it gives his hands something to do and he doesn't get any wispy hair in his face. When asked about his own braids, Vakama admitted they were from a friend and he held onto them for sentimental reasons. He totally expected to be picked on for it, but Whenua only told him he was lucky and, as a half joke, asked Vakama if he'll have more braids as he worked with the other Toa Metru. Vakama was indecisive, as that would mean growing more hair and braiding it, but he wouldn't object to it

When their boots get damaged, Onewa looks for new boots while Vakama just fixes his, and it shows because he has had to repleace the string of his boot, had to sew a hole shut, had to fix the sole, and put some new metal in the toe when the old metal gave

Vakama doesn't smoke, I don't imagine any of the Toa Metru smoking, but if Vakama did smoke, he'd essentially use his thumb as a lighter. If anyone's getting cheeky or smart with him, he'd flip them off as he lights a smoke. Well, anyone but Nokama, who would be on his back about stopping because he's not helping himself by doing it and his lungs/filters are already gross from breathing smoke and fumes all day, so why is he making it worse?

Matau is 100% someone who would walk up to one of the other Toa Metru and say, "Pay attention to me." Very cat-like behavior, but the guy wants love

Vakama doesn't fully remember getting his scar from the Vahki. The others asked what he did, but he legitimately has no idea

Something that's absolutely a thing between the two of them: Matau will lay right on top of Vakama or lay by him, what have you. It's a win-win thing for them both; Matau gets really warm, and Vakama gets a comfortable weight on him to calm him down

Because I have cats, how they'd do with a cat: Whenua would let it chill on his shoulders, Nokama would have a new best friend and the cat essentially becomes her animal companion, Matau is shape-shifting into another cat and playing with it, Onewa is the guy who didn't want the cat but falls in love anyway, Nuju is indifferent about it, and Vakama is very, "What do I do?" towards it because it honks at him whenever he's making masks to calm down and lays on him because he is a living furnace

This is just in general, but their eyes change color when their 'mask powers' are activated. Nokama's eyes glow blue, Vakama's glow red, Nuju's glow white, et cetera. Whenua's just more of a lead-y silver, but still

[dangerous-disposition]

98 and Tigareth 😌

Aaaaaah thank you so much for asking for THE BOYS, now I get to post THE BOYS.

The prompt is "If we weren't in public right now i'd have my head between your legs." and the ship is Gareth/OMC, specifically, my OMC Tig who is Our Boyfriend.

This is established!Tigareth, and takes place in the near-ish future of pom!verse ;p and in pom!verse, Gareth is short.

Tagging the Tig fans: @xenon-demon @steddieas-shegoes @theheadlessphilosopher @scarcrossdlvrs @sidekick-hero @sentient-trash @stobinesque @starryeyedjanai @vampeddie @hellion-child @wormdebut (if i'm forgetting someone i'm so sorry just let me know in the notes if you wanna be tagged in more Tig stuff)

Enjoyyyyyyyy

Gareth, for the most part, loved concerts. The energy of them, especially the mosh pit, was sublime. They allowed him to get out a lot of pent-up energy that he otherwise struggled to find release for (because despite what some giants in his life would insist, sex wasn't always the best way to burn through some stuff). Sometimes, Gareth just needed to get his eardrums blown out in the middle of a sweaty crowd of strangers, maybe get shoved around. Part of that need was probably why he became a drummer, and performing absolutely scratched that itch well enough while they were touring.

But sometimes he just wanted to actually see the band performing which, when you’re just over five fucking feet tall, usually didn’t work out. Especially when a stupid fucking accident on the freeway cost them precious minutes needed to make it to the barrier.

They were stuck in the middle of the crowd and obviously it still sounded amazing, and the energy was still fucking perfect, Gareth couldn’t help the scowl that fell over his face. It was still the opening bands, so there was still time to bully his way to the barrier, but still… he didn’t want to have to bully his way to the barrier.

“You’re pouting,” Tig’s voice rumbled against Gareth’s ear as the first opening band exited the stage and he jumped, swinging his elbow and catching his boyfriend’s hip.

“Not pouting,” he snapped back and Tig just laughed, sending Gareth’s stomach into a series of somersaults. It was a good thing he wasn’t looking at Tig when he laughed like that because Gareth knew he would be embarrassing about it.

He always was.

“Okay, well, that definitely looks like a pout, Gare,” Tig insisted, and only then did Gareth actually turn his head to look at him.

It was always fucking devastating to look at Tig, especially in the shifting lights of a concert, especially when Tig was done up in all that leather and denim, eyes lined in black and his long hair pulled back to show off his undercut. His hair was platinum blond again, too, which was doing something for Gareth for reasons that were far too embarrassing to fully admit to while completely sober.

“Aren’t you enjoying the concert?” Tig asked, and Gareth had to take a deep breath before he said something nasty. See, Tig was gorgeous, and a considerate partner, and the most perfect boyfriend probably ever, but he was famous for his stupid questions.

“Yeah, I’m sure the concert is great when you’re, fuckin’, Slenderman,” Gareth said snappishly, gesturing at Tig’s six-foot-fucking-six frame. Then he pointed at the man standing right in front of him and added, “I get to watch the sweat spot between this asshole’s shoulder blades grow. Can’t see jackshit else.”

When Gareth looked back at Tig again, he immediately felt bad for his complaining. He genuinely looked guilty, his brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth turning down. Just as Gareth was about to back-pedal, though, Tig got a little smirk on his lips that had Gareth nervous.

Leaning close enough to Gareth’s ear that his lip piercings brushed against his earlobe, Tig murmured in a perfect accent, “Shall I describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box?”

Gareth reared back to stare at his boyfriend, eyes wide and nostrils flaring at the cheeky little smirk on Tig’s lips as mortification flooded through him. Not for the first time, Gareth found himself plotting the most effective way to put Nair in Eddie Munson’s conditioner without risking Steve in the crossfire. It was Eddie’s fault that Tig knew about the obsessive crush he had on Legolas at all, and since finding out about it the man was insufferable.

Unfortunately for Gareth, Tig saying that line in a perfect imitation of the accent with platinum blond hair had a completely different feeling taking precedence.

“Dipshit,” Gareth grumbled with a roll of his eyes, and he reached for Tig, scowling at the shit-eating grin that split his face.

Perhaps the man expected to be shoved, because Tig visibly braced himself only to stumble a bit when Gareth’s hands wrapped around the leather straps of the harness he wore and tugged. Their lips crashed together and Tig instantly melted into it, opening for Gareth’s questing tongue before pressing forward with his own. The sensation of Tig’s forked tongue against his had Gareth’s head going fuzzy and hot, and he had to force himself to pull away.

“If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have my head between your legs,” Gareth said thickly, kissing Tig again.

“Making a pretty good case to get somewhere private immediately,” Tig hummed, just as the second opening band came out and started up.

“If you get me to the barrier, I’ll do a lot more than suck your cock later,” Gareth promised and the heated expression Tig pinned him with had him reconsidering staying at the show entirely.

But then Tig had him by the hand and was snaking through the crowd, and Gareth found himself standing at the barrier in no time. Of course, Gareth is a man of his word, and he absolutely intended to make good on his vow the second they got somewhere even remotely private.

Make me write!!

[faithfulcat111]

Stonathan Sundays

I'm thinking of this as a spiritual predecessor to one of my Stonathan week fics in which you'll learn more about just why Jonathan hates the dark. Till then, enjoy this on-the-spot Stonathan Sunday ficlet! @stonathanweek

"I'm not a big fan of the dark."

Steve looked up from where he was trying to piece together the map that Dustin had given him before he headed out on patrol. Jonathan sat on the other side of said map, looking blankly through the slats of the boarded over window beside them. The little shack of a house that the two had found themselves taking shelter in was long abandoned like most of the area around Hawkins, but you could still see the glowing red sky above what was formerly town center. It was growing and none of them were certain how much longer their rag-tag group could hold back the worst of the things crawling out of the cracks before they had to evacuate like most of the town already had.

"I don't think any of us are. Even with that thing lighting the sky every night," Steve gestured towards the glowing sky, trying to smile through dirt and muck he knew he was covered in. Their patrol had been a bit of a mess, and they might have been a bit lost, hence the taking shelter in the abandoned shack.

"No, I mean," Steve didn't think it was possible for Jonathan to sound frustrated like that, not after finally getting to know the guy, but he clearly was as he turned away from the window. "I mean from before all this. I hate it. Literally will go into a panic attack because of the dark or being closed in. And I'm telling you this because I know I'm already close to one. And I don't want to deal with that and you don't want to deal with that, so I'm letting you know." He finished off that little ramble with a shrug.

Steve frowned. It was hard for him to read Jonathan's face with the shadows growing across the room, but that ever-present stoicism plastered onto Jonathan's face and voice was undercut with a hint of growing fear. Steve looked around the room, spotting the pile he had seen of old yellow books and newspapers that had been left behind. "Okay, then we'll make it not dark anymore," he said, getting up to grab the first few pieces off the pile before walking over to the old wood stove in the corner. "Do you know how to light one of these?"

There is a hitch in Jonathan's breathing and Steve hears him move closer more than sees him, "Yes, but we need more than just that to get it going."

It took some scavenging, mainly done by Steve, to find some kindling and wood to add to the newspaper, but he looked over at Jonathan when he could, watching the soft glow of the fire that was growing light up his features as he used the lighter he always carried to help get it going. When Jonathan finally deemed it enough, Steve sat back down next to him, watching his face as Jonathan's eyes were trained on the fire before them.

There was something warm and strong in the air that didn't come from the growing heat. Something that Steve realized came from this thing between him and Jonathan. Steve couldn't pinpoint when it started, if it was new or he'd been oblivious to its existance all the way back to that day three years ago when Jonathan punched some sense into him and then saved his life causing Steve to do the same. But he knew that he definitely noticed it now that the two were stuck in such close proximity all of the time. To the point that Steve wanted to choose Jonathan as his patrol partner rather than the girls and be around him more. Have him shyly grab his hand again and maybe more.

"Is that better?" Steve congratulated himself when Jonathan didn't startle from his voice. He so easily did and was so naturally quiet.

But he didn't this time. Jonathan turned to Steve, a slight smile on his face as it glowed red in the firelight. "Yes," he quietly murmured before shifting, surprising Steve as he leaned into his side. Steve couldn't suppress his grin any longer, feeling it spread across his own face as he moved his arm around Jonathan to pull him in closer. "It's perfect."

[triplesilverstar]

A sleepy morning followed by a pest infested afternoon

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: P in V, morning after, banter, kidnapping, being drugged, lecherous thoughts

Word count: 2.4K 

A/N: Chapter seven of Home. You're still enjoying the way your heart soars in your chest after Vash's proposal, too bad all good dreams must come to an end.

Enjoy~

As you slowly come to awareness you’re engulfed in warmth, trying to shift a little to wrap yourself more in that heat except something is weighing you down. Keeping you in place, a soft groan as you open a single eye and see nothing but blond. A tingle against the skin of your neck as air and chapped lips inadvertently brush against it, you know it’s Vash. 

Both of your hands glide along his back while your mind supplies how the two of you fell asleep still coiled around one another. A longer round of lovemaking had followed the first as you both rocked together until you were too exhausted to continue, your sore body telling you that both of you went for a while and you have no recollection of how many times the two of you came. Just that it had been a lot to tender words and kisses after his proposal and your strange little vows, pulling your left hand away from his back and out from under the sheets.

The glint of the ring on your finger makes you smile, your lips spread wide and your teeth on display, it might have been silly but you were happy with a warmth blooming in your chest. However, the moment was broken as you realized why you had started to wake up. 

“Vash.” Your voice is hoarse as you turn to nose at the top of his head, trying to get him to rouse and move. “Vash, baby. I need the washroom.” 

A low grunt from the man resting against your body, dragging the tips of your fingers against his head trying to wake him a little faster. The briefest press of his lips to the slide of your neck as his hand trails along your slide before pressing into the mattress beside you. “Good morning to you too.” Whispered into your skin before he’s pushing himself upwards and you sigh feeling his soft length slip from inside your walls and the trickle of fluids down your ass. 

“I need to pee, and you pulling out isn’t helping to lessen that need.” Laughing as he rolls off of you with a sigh. A light thump as his weight settles into the mattress next to you. “But good morning Mr. Stampede.” Shuffling as quickly as you can to the side of the bed and scooping the first bit of clothing you can find into your hands to check what they are before pulling them on. His turtleneck and what you think are your underwear, it’s more than enough for darting down the hallway to one of the shared bathrooms on the ship. 

Shuffling to the door but not before you hear a sleepy. “Hurry back Mrs. Stampede.”  From the bed that warms your chest and a love sick grin spreads across your face once more, you would have never thought hearing him call you that would have your heart doing cartwheels in your chest. 

Thankfully the short trip doesn’t have you interrupted and after your business is done you take the time to clean up some of the mess between your thighs. You’re going to need a shower for sure before you do anything else for the day, tossing one of the communal washcloths you used into the bin to be washed. 

You’re ready to go crawl back into bed with Vash for another cuddle session before facing the actual day. Only to step outside and to walk straight into Wolfwood. “Shesh, after keeping me up all night the least you and needle noggin could do is stay out of my way!” Rubbing your face as you get ready to snap at him only to see his eyes trailing downwards and a lecherous smirk growing on his face before he let out a sharp whistle. “So that’s what those legs look like, no wonder Vash follows like you a lost little puppy. I would too if I had those to wrap around me.” 

“Fuck off!” The fury of your snarl is no doubt undercut by the fire burning on your face as you dart back towards the room, tugging Vash’s shirt down lower over your ass trying to hide it. 

All the while missing the look of concern on Wolfwood’s face at the line of scars along your legs as for the first time, while he enjoyed teasing you for his restless night the dark haired man realizes maybe the two of you are more alike than he first thought. The undertaker didn’t miss the glint of metal on your finger either and it was like a lead weight dropping in his stomach. You weren’t foolish enough to think you and Vash would have a chance at a happy ending were you? 

Closing the door behind you with a huff and unaware you’re stomping has Vash sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What’s wrong Mayfly?” Tumbling from his lips and you’d find the way his hair is falling into his eyes adorable if you weren’t fuming. 

“Wolfwood. Little fucker said he could hear us all night.” A squeak as Vash is far more awake and turning the same shade as his coat, blue eyes wide. At least you aren’t the only one embarrassed. 

A short while later both you and Vash step from the washroom, both clean and in fresher clothes Vash with a cloth around his neck to catch the drips from his hair. “Well I guess we’ll see if my arm is ready, we should be closer to JuLai by now.” A vague sense of dread falling over, back to JuLai and the shit storm that has to be brewing. 

You nod, a few steps behind him as you head back to the room to see two familiar figures knocking on the door. One of whom held a metal hand under his arm with a toolbox. “I was starting to think the two of you were ignoring me.” A chuckle from Brad as he turned. 

“You didn’t just barge into the room for once Brad? You sure you’re feeling ok there you dirty old man.” Teasing him while Vash rolled his eyes at your antics even if inside his head he thought the same thing, so used to the two of you being interrupted from a chance at intimacy when onboard the ship. 

“Well if you learned how to lock a door I wouldn’t have had to see anything, makes me think the two of you are more like a pair of voyeurs.” Fired right back and this time Vash sighs. 

“Come on you two, it’s too early for this.” While you bantered back and forth the undertaker doesn’t say a word, but you don’t miss the way his eyes keep darting down to your hand behind his sunglasses.

“Blondie it’s almost noon.” Neither you nor Vash comment further since you probably didn’t fall asleep until dawn. 

“Let’s get that new arm of yours attached.” Brad growing serious as Vash opens the door to your shared space. “Oh and Snipes. Ludia asked me to tell you to meet her in the atrium, I guess somehow those two friends of yours missed that during their little tour when they got here.” 

“Alright, I’ll head there now.” Reaching out to squeeze Vash’s flesh hand before you head towards the green space, your jacket left in the room. It’s not like you need it or any of your weapons and tools tucked inside your pockets while on the ship. Sending Wolfwood a scathing glance before you depart.

Measured steps as you make your way there, and the sound of Roberto telling Luida something that sounds like the start of a brewing argument you frown. Only for that worry to fade as Ludia in her strong like a willow tree way to fire back that she’s going to keep moving forward the way she has because she won’t risk lives for her own comfort. Any life. 

“You can’t believe in this same bullshit as they do, do you Snipes?” The older reporter turns to you as you approach with your hands in your pockets.

“Of course I do. It might not be fast enough but the right path is the one that harms the least amount of life.” Roberto’s hand flies in the air in frustration before he starts walking away, digging in his jacket for what you can only assume are his cigarettes and he prepares to light one. 

“Shall I remind you there is no smoking anywhere on this ship.” You almost have to laugh at the smugness hidden in Luida’s tone as she states the words so matter of factly. 

You let the laughter escape you as Meryl runs off at the call of her mentor, heart feeling light as you noticed before she did that he called her Meryl instead of newbie. With the way the day is going, you're starting to feel lighter, like the weight of the world isn’t over your shoulders. “Good morning Snipes.” 

“Good morning Luida, or should I say afternoon?” Shaking your head you can’t seem to let your grin fade, and something in the way Luida’s eyes seem to shine makes you wonder if the older woman already knows why you’re feeling so upbeat. 

“It is the afternoon.” She agrees. “Any reason why you look rather joyous to-” Her even tone is interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and you sure as hell aren’t smiling now as a group of worms fly in. 

“Worms!” Snarling as you reach behind you only to curse, your body moving on auto-pilot for something that isn’t there. “What the hell are they doing here?” Watching as the swarm splits into two, one heading for you and Luida the other you assume has to be heading for Roberto and Meryl. You’ve never seen worms on the ship before, you had always assumed they couldn’t break through the wall of the sandstorm since they were bugs. 

You let Luida lead the way as she starts to run, turning on the balls of your feet after the older woman. Unarmed you have nothing to fight the flying hazard with since you’d only be able to grab one before the others could descend on you with their stingers. “I don’t know, but I’m worried about the timing of their appearance.” Glancing at Luida you frown, her face is already darkening and you can hear her breathing growing haggard.

“Go get Vash!” You turn, hands balled into fists, and take a swing at the closet worm that’s well ahead of the pack sending it to the beaten path under your feet and stomping downwards. The least you can do is buy the older woman and hopefully the reporters time to get out of the atrium. Curse the fact you see this place as safe, as being untouchable. 

You know better. 

Everything is touchable and can be taken away. 

You manage to take out a few more worms before you turn on your heels to run and put a bit more distance between you and the swarm. A yelp has you stumbling. The other swarm had been a hell of a lot faster than the one that had gone after you, as in slow motion you watch Roberto and Meryl fall to the ground before what seems like two larger worms appear out of the blue to grab them. 

“Still showing concern for the extra weight huh?” Slapping the side of your face as Zazie’s voice rings out next to your ear. 

“Leave them alone Zazie.” Hissing you turn towards where his, their, voice had come from and see those strange eyes far closer than you had when you had been conversing inside of the grand worm. 

“I think not. You didn’t really answer my questions last time so I want to ask them instead.” 

“They don’t know anything.” You snap, but the gleam in their wild eyes tells you they’ve already made up their mind. 

“Regardless, I think it’s going to make things more interesting.” Leaning back a little and you can see the swarm is circling both of you, keeping you shrouded in the buzzing bodies while the conducited for the hive mind speaks. “Now my dear Ghost Sniper.” Feeling the glower on your face grow at him calling you that name as the hackles on the back of your neck rise. “You have a choice, you can either come with me of your own free will or”

“Go fuck yourself Zazie.” Putting your fists up and swinging at him, watching as his bodies disperse into the flurry of smaller worms once more. You forgot for a moment just how fast he could be. You can only assume his appearance and his offer has been orchestrated by Knives, you aren’t walking into that lions 

“Simply be taken.” Your shoulders arch backwards as something pricks your neck and a line of fire races along your spine. “After all, Lord Knives has made it clear he wants you in JuLai. A pretty little present to make his baby brother come running to him.” A shaky step and you feel like you’re underwater, everything is growing blurry and it’s getting harder to keep your eyes open. 

“The good doctor made something just for you.” His voice sounds farther away as you pitch forward and a darkness claims your mind. If not for the drug you might have caught the mockery in his voice at the use of the word Lord. Zazie doesn’t feel pity, not for a race that destroyed the last planet they had inhabited, yet he isn’t foolish enough to trust the independent and his grand plan. Not when Zazie had seen the gears in his head turning when it came to you and his shift from wanting you dead and rotting to now being integral to his plan. No. Zazie knows something more is on the rise than just the destruction of humanity, and he’d rather put his faith in someone who figured out after one meeting he was a hive mind than a being bent on destruction. Hefting your body under his arm and using another group of worms to start flying off his with his three prizes. 

Things were about to get interesting.

So the next few weeks will be fics in the past updated with new snips of their relationship as it grew and the two started forming more of a bond. Also because I am still working on the next section of what is being in JuLai.

[katzynia]

I am very interested in smolJay, an unfortunately rare sight in fics - what's in "contractSlade+smolJay" ? Thank you :)

Ah, this is a monster of an idea :D Roughly a year ago I wrote a smol!Jay fic and during writing, it became much fluffier and sweeter than I had planned. Lots of my angstier thoughts/ideas for scenes were kind of leftover. Then, somewhere during spring, I saw a SladeRobin week prompt "Robin hires Slade" (or something, I'm paraphrasing) and that got me really thinking...

What if Jason survived Joker's treatment, and during his convalescence hired Slade to kill Joker when he realizes nobody else would do it (for him)?

Well, the idea ballooned from there. Now that's just the starting act, and the actual story happens in Gotham ~5 years later, when Slade comes to town looking for a possible shipment of Kryptonite rumored to be owned by Black Mask. He runs into Jason Todd and recognizes his one-time employer. Meanwhile, somebody is messing with Black Mask businesses... It's complicated as shit, with identity shenanigans and repurposing things from "Under the Red Hood", family feels, and all that jazz. Honestly, not sure if I can pull that off. At the moment, it's waiting for reinspiration and reconfidence, cause I also feel like all my stories are structured the same way and so I'll have to think about it.

I have ~6700 words written. Here's a snippet (don't mind the typos and the weirdness, it's a first draft)

***

“That’s a gnarly scar, kid,” Slade says. And the funniest thing is that it’s nowhere near the most notable thing about him.

The scar on his left temple is fresh. It can’t be more than a week or so since the stitches were removed. The hair around it hasn’t had the chance to grow back yet, leaving him with a weird and uneven undercut. The scar snakes down, ragged and uneven, all the way to the corner of his eyebrow. His skin is pale and yellowish, the black backs under his eyes a stark contrast to it.

And to top it all off, he can’t be more than fifteen. Based just on his side, Slade would guess even younger, but his voice has certain depth that speaks of maturity. And his eyes. Those eyes have seen some shit. They are the eyes of a person who is not afraid because they’ve been through something so much worse.

Slade can already cross over one of the questions he had.

“He did that to you?” he asks, and without conscious contribution, his own voice becomes gruff too. He doesn’t need to specify who.

The kid huffs, but it doesn’t quite hide a quick flash of resurfacing fear in his eyes.

“I want him dead,” he says, “He shouldn’t be allowed to—after he—” He halts in the middle of the tirade. Slade isn’t sure if he’s trying to swallow the words or try to get them lined up properly. He presses his hands on the table, hard, and takes a breath. Faint pink spots appear on his cheeks. They are starkly visible against the paleness.

“And you want me to do it,” Slade says, after the silence stretches. “Deathstroke the Terminator,” the kid says, “Fair deals. Trustfull--dependable.” He smiles a little, crookedly. “Allows for anonymity.” “What about your other conditions?” Slade says. “I don’t work with restrictions.”

Kid huffs. “You’re the professional, figure it out. You don’t leave unnecessary casualties anyway, and avoiding detection shouldn’t be an issue for you.”

“Except he never leaves Gotham”.

“Except when he does.”

“Do you have a way to track him?”

“No.”

“Which means the most likely location is Gotham. “And if I need to choose? Between letting him go and fighting Batman?”

The boy’s hands clench. Something almost horrible shines in his eyes.

“Let him go,” he says, and it seems like the admission cost him something. He takes a breath and briefly closes his eyes. “I don’t care when or how. Just that he’s gone, permanently, irreversibly, and that nobody finds out. Take your time, for all I care, just end that wretched creature.”

”And if I say no?”

“Will you?”

“Humor me.” The client’s answer to that always reveals a lot. Every job is the most important in the world, until it isn’t and actually Slade is the lucky one for being considered for it, such a privilige it is.

The kid stares at him in silence for a long moment.

“I’d be fucked,” he says bluntly. Slade’s eyebrows shoot up.

“There isn’t anybody of your caliber willing to work in Gotham.” In the boy’s droll tone, it isn’t a compliment, just a fact. Slade had had many clients trying to suck up to him. And it’s the truth: Deathshot is in prison (probably in Walker’s greedy clutches already), Shiva would not agree to a kill like this, and the League of Shadows doesn’t do anonymous (ironically considering their name).

“But you knew that already,” the boy continues.

“No one to do it for you?” Slade asks.

Something moves over the kid’s face. A shadow of anger and sorrow then something like acceptance.

The boy shakes his head. “No,” he says and the expression morphs one more time, into something like determination. “I would need to consider if I’m capable of doing it.”

Slade looks over the injuries. The kid doesn’t seem to steady, swaying a bit even there.

The boy’s smile holds no humor. “I don’t mean physically.”

Some people can’t kill, it’s an indisputable fact Slade has seen true many a times. They can’t do it and still remain themselves. Some would lose some integral part of themselves and never get over it. Some wouldn’t be able to stop once they started, a switch just turning on in their minds.

Something about the boy makes Slade think that he could. He could kill and walk away from it after.

“Alright,” he says. “I will kill the Joker for you.”

***

Thanks for asking!

WIP ask game here

[txemrn]

Keep Your Head Up

Book: TRR/TRH Post-series

Word count: ~2325

Song Inspo: "Keep Your Head Up, Princess" - Anson Seabra

Warning: fairly fluffy (no one dies!); tiny sprinkles of angst, mentions of bullying

A/N: I am participating in week 21 of @choicesflashfics prompt challenge! I chose prompt #2: "I look at you and my heart breaks because all I see is loneliness.” The prompt will be in bold.

A/N 2: Most of the characters and some of the plot points belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Please excuse my errors! Also, if you are curious about Royal Roulette: it's a fun little challenge you can do anytime for yourself! Take your music and hit mix! Take the first song that pops up, and use it as a muse for a fic! No need to credit me, but do tag me if you do it because I LOVE reading other RR!

~🖤~

"Where is she?" Liam grits his teeth, frantically glancing around the ballroom before turning back to his head guards. A strangled-growl drips from his words, a crimson hue coating his vision. "Can anyone tell me where the hell she went?"

Not waiting for an answer, he pushes open the heavy, ornate double doors to exit the ballroom before bounding down the side corridor that leads to the grand staircase.  Each step he takes becomes quicker, angrier, and despite being in full regalia, his walk becomes a run. Once he reaches the living quarters of the palace, he takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches her room. And he knocks softly.

When she doesn't answer, he raps against the polished wood once more. "Love?" But again, she doesn't answer.

He sighs, his jaw ticking, knowing that he needs to speak with her. To hug her. To hold her. 

To tell her that he loves her.

He turns the doorknob, inviting himself into her room; but upon entry, he notices the darkened room is empty. Her bed is still made, her belongings untouched.

He lets out a heavy sigh, turning on his heel to search elsewhere– that is until he hears the soft rustle of taffeta from the large, oak wardrobe on the far end of the room.

A smirk grows across his face as he saunters to the closet. Of course, she would pick this as her hiding place.  Her favorite book was The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe from C. S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia. Staying quiet, he cautiously approaches, leaning in closely, just to verify he heard correctly.

And suddenly, a breath hitches as a quiet, almost inaudible sob continues.

And the fibers of his heart begin to splinter, shattering into a million shards on the ground.

He thought he could protect her and shield her from the snide comments and hateful glares. The judgment from the public was bad enough, but the turned up noses and undercut statements made by nobles could be relentless. Seeing her bright light and contagious laughter stolen at the ruthless words of bullies seeped a new level of sadness into his heart.

He gently taps on the door of the wardrobe. And instantly, the movement stops, retreating back into hiding. "It's me," he softly whispers, "Daddy."

After a brief, silent pause, the hatch unlocks, the door swinging open to reveal six-year-old Eleanor tucked in the corner underneath her winter coats. Her pink ball gown is scrunched up around her body as she hugs her knees, her trusty stuffed lion Fabian under her arm for cuddles. Her freckled, cherub face is swollen and blotchy, wet from her tears. Her hair remains in a blonde French braid with pink jeweled barrettes, fixed by her mother for the evening.

"Eleanor?" Liam quietly crawls onto the floor, pulling his ankle under his knee to crisscross his long legs. He takes a deep breath, his crystal gaze matching hers as she coyly watches him like a frightened animal. "What's wrong, Squirt?"

A large tear slopes down her nose as she tucks her head lower into her arms. She remains silent.

Liam gently clears his throat. "Why aren't you down at the Baron's ball?" Again, the young princess remains quiet except for her rhythmic sniffles. 

He turns his attention to her feet, noticing her beloved pair of black Converse high tops. And he can't help but smile. Gosh, he loves his girl. 

Eleanor has always marched to the beat of her own drum. She showed interest in so many different things, playing with both dolls and toy cars, eager to play soccer and climb trees while also hosting tea parties and playing in her mom's makeup. She was rough and tumble, but loved glitz and glam. She wasn't too fond of wearing heavy, itchy ball gowns, but when Riley suggested she wear her Chuck Taylors like a comfort item, their daughter couldn't wait for the next royal function.

That event was tonight.

"Princess," he sighs, "I look at you and it breaks my heart because all I see is loneliness.  I want to make whatever this is better, but I can't unless you talk to me." When she doesn't budge, Liam glances back to her high-tops, and remembers she was debuting them tonight. He taps on them. "Did you show your friends your cool sneakers?"

Eleanor looks up with a scowl before putting her head back down. "They're not cool," she cries.

Liam's eyebrows furrow with curiosity. "What do you mean they're not cool?" He reaches over and grabs her foot, playfully inspecting the shoe. "These look pretty cool to me, but then again–" he tickles her knee, "--I think the person wearing them makes them the coolest shoe ever."

Eleanor looks up with a pitiful smile, wiping at her face with her arm. Her brilliant blue eyes match her father's, more ablaze from being red with irritation. She quickly climbs out of her corner, and reaches for her dad; but before her arms could reach him, he was already pulling her into his own embrace. She clings tightly to his neck as his large hands rub endearing circles on her back.

"They said they were stupid."

"What?" Liam looks down as his daughter readjusts to sit in his lap. "Who said your shoes were stupid?"

"The other girls," she holds out her feet, knocking the toes of her shoes together. "They said that real princesses don't wear boy shoes."

"And how would they know? You're the only princess in that ball." He boops her nose causing her face to scrunch with a genuine smile. "Uh, Squirt, where are your glasses?"

Her elation died at her dad's words. "I don't want to wear 'em, Daddy." 

Liam extends his arm into the wardrobe, pulling out the purple bifocals, holding them out in his hands. "Why not?"

"'Cause…" she fidgets with her skirt, "I'm not pretty with them on."

"Squirt," he places his finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "It's impossible for you to not be pretty. In fact," he smooths out her dress before pushing back a gold wisp of hair. "You are the prettiest girl I know."

"Daddy," she bashfully singsongs.

"What?" He sits up a little taller. "I know these things. I am a king." He chuckles. "Now, about these glasses–"

"--I don't want to wear them."

"But they look so pretty on you, Eleanor," he unfolds the glasses, offering them to her. 

"They give me four eyes. And-and I don't want four eyes, Daddy! What if they turn into five… or six?" She drags her fingers down her cheeks.

Liam titters to himself. "Who told you glasses give you 'four eyes'?"

She crosses her arms. "Stupid boys."

"Eleanor," Liam warns, "you know we don't say words like that about others." 

She pouts harder, slumping in her father's lap. 

"Let me show you something," Liam points to her eyes. "You have one… two eyes right here, but you need glasses to help you see, right?" She nods. "These," he looks at the eyewear in his hands, "are like having another set of eyes. See?" He points to each lens, "three... Four."

"Oh!" A wave of understanding crawls across Eleanor’s face. "Four eyes!"

"Right," Liam snickers, placing an endearing hand around her back. "People say it to try to be rude, but honestly, all they're pointing out is that you wear glasses. That's it."

"Oh," Eleanor considers her father's words before continuing.  "But they said I was ugly in them. And I don't want to be ugly, Daddy."

"Hrmmm," Liam thoughtfully looks at her glasses, and then slips the small pair on his face. Clearly made for a child, the eyewear pinches tightly at his nose and across his temples. "Am I ugly?"

"No," Eleanor giggles, holding a hand over her mouth.

"But, I thought these glasses make people ugly–"

"Daddy!" She squeals, "you're being silly!"

Liam chuckles, hearing her laugh again. He takes off the glasses, cleaning them off against his shirt. "Eleanor, do you know why princesses wear crowns?"

"Because they're princesses," she answers proudly. "And crowns are pretty."

Liam reaches over to a wooden chest next to the wardrobe that is filled with costumes, play clothes and accessories. He pulls out a plastic, gold crown with bright pink jewels glued around the band. 

"Crowns," he continues, holding the toy crown in his hand, "help princesses keep their heads up."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah, huh!" Liam jovially retorts.  "See, some people can be very mean. And because you are a princess, you're an easy target for people to be mean. But do you know why they're mean?"

Eleanor innocently shakes her head, her attention glued to her father's words.

"They're mean because they're jealous."

"Jealous?"

"That's right," Liam nods. "You have something they don't have. It can be a pretty dress or a pretty smile," he pinches her cheek. "Sometimes it's simply because someone else hurt their feelings, and they want someone else to hurt, too. They're jealous of your happiness. They think that if they're mean, it will make them feel better."

Liam takes the toy crown and fixes it to her head. "Being part of the royal family means you have a lot more things, that you are given a lot more opportunities than people not born into nobility--which, you should never, ever be ashamed of. But we live our lives in the public eye, so people from around the world know how privileged we are."

Eleanor taps her finger on her lips, knitting her brows together. "So… they get jealous?"

"That's right, Squirt," his lips slowly curl. "They can." 

"But, Daddy? It… it still hurts my feelings."

"I know it does, baby," he pulls her in close to his chest, "I know it does. But just remember: those mean words are not true." Liam looks up at the gaudy crown on his daughter's head. "So, that's why princesses wear crowns. That's why you wear a crown, Squirt. It's there to remind you that when people say mean, untrue things about you, keep your head up. Don't listen to them. You don't want your crown to–"

There's a sudden thud on the ground.

"Oops!" Eleanor’s hands fly up over her mouth as she looks at the plastic crown that slipped off her head, crashing to the floor.

Liam rolls his eyes before offering a kind expression towards his daughter. "Come here, Squirt." He wraps his arms around her, placing tender kisses in her hairline.

"Daddy?" She slides on her glasses. "Is it too late to go back to the ball?"

"Ehh," Liam shakes his wrist, his watch turning for him to read. "It looks like the night is over."

"Aww rats," Eleanor deflates, "Uncle Maxwell was going to play Baby Shark for us to dance to."

"Well," Liam stops, glancing down at his daughter. "Do you still want to dance?"

Eleanor’s eyes light up as she eagerly nods her head. She grabs her father's finger, guiding him to an open area of the room. "What should we do for music?"

"I've got an idea." Liam bends over, holding out his hands, curling his fingers into a C-shape with his thumb. "Ba…by… shark! Do-do-do-do!"

Eleanor squeals, joining in with her father singing and doing the hand motions. They both dance around the room, creating their own dance party they both would never forget.

------

Baron's Ball 10 Years Later…

The rubber soles of her Converse high-tops tap hypnotically against the polished ballroom floor. She anxiously chews on her nails as she watches the other noble children laugh and dance amongst the parents.  

She had spent the better part of a day getting ready for the annual event: hair curled, pinned and hair-sprayed into place; make-up carefully fixed to the features of her classic beauty; her baby blue ball gown perfectly tailored to her budding womanly curves.  But even though she felt beautiful, she remained nervous of facing the other kids, and she knew she would probably be left alone, no one wanting to dance with her.

Life for Eleanor didn't get easier at royal functions. The bullying and backhanded comments continued over the years. It hurt, but the desire to hide and cry became weaker and weaker as she remembered her father's words so long ago.

Keep your head up…

"May I have this dance?"

Eleanor’s pedal pink lips curl into a bright smile as she turns towards the familiar baritone voice. "Daddy, you said you were going to stay in the–"

"And miss the chance to dance with my beautiful daughter?" He beams.

A soft blush crawls across her cheeks as she takes his hand, following his lead to the dance floor.  After a cordial bow, they begin to waltz, their feet gliding across the floor with ease.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"Oh, Squirt," he nervously titters, "someday you'll be queen, and these dances with you… well, they'll just be an old man's precious memory."

Eleanor scoffs. "I will always save a dance for you."

Liam laughs. "You might want to take that up with your husband. If he knows how much of treasure you are, he'll never let go–"

"Excuse me, your majesty?"

Liam and Eleanor stop at the timid voice, turning to see Bartie Beaumont mid-bow. 

"Son?" Liam gives a curious, yet humored glare.

"I was wondering, that is, if it's okay with you… oh! And if it's okay with your daughter… um…" clearly nervous, the young man takes a cleansing breath as he wipes his palms against his slacks. "May I have this dance?"

Liam turns to his daughter, noticing her eye's brightening by the moment with anticipation. And he smiles. He takes her hand, guiding her closer for Bartie to take it. As they begin to bow, Liam clears his throat, making both Bartie and Eleanor freeze.

"I'm watching you, Beaumont."

"Y-yes, sir," Bartie swallows thickly.

"Daddy," Eleanor growls.

Liam takes his cue and begins to walk away–that is, until he turns around again. "And leave some room in between–"

"Daddy!"

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

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[troius]

Death Save Me From Light Novels

Wow, the title of this thing is kinda morbid when you put it that way, huh? Anyhow this is actually the best of the light novels I’ve covered so far, but it’s still highly inessential and the joke was too easy for me to pass up. Review under the cut.

The Death Save The Strawberry is the best of the Bleach novels so far because it actually has a point. Unlike the previous two, which told stories of “what everybody in the cast ate for dinner one night” and “what if there was a major crisis that didn’t affect anybody we cared about”, this book tells a story you might have some interest in: how did Rukia get ahold of that sword that she uses to give Ichigo his powers back? It’s not an essential story, obviously the manga worked fine without telling you all the details, but they’re here if you want them.

The first part of the book is clearly the best, because it’s full of little tidbits about the cast that bring more depth to the people we care about. Orihime got her bakery job, for example, because she was so effusive in her love of their products that they actually noticed a difference in their business! Uryu got his student council president position because Mizuho Asano thought he “looked like a president”, which is pretty funny. Chad apparently only started boxing after the winter war, because he was so bummed about how he got sidelined (and Tatsuki is apparently doing the same thing, which hurts me personally).

 Anyhow, Orihime notices that Ichigo’s down, so she uses a spirit phone that Unohana gave her (would have loved to know the story there...) and calls Rukia, who goes to Urahara for help, who takes a whole year to create the energy transfer sword. And this is the most interesting part of the book for me, because Urahara outright states that he needed/wanted to use Engetsu, Isshin’s sword, to make it, but Isshin was reluctant to help, and only agreed after Uryu got attacked.

That’s fascinating to me. There was a sort of underexplored undercurrent to the Fullbringer Arc where Ichigo felt a little suspicious of his father, and it’s actually borne out here! Isshin really was not enthusiastic about Ichigo getting back into the Soul Reaper life! It took Uryu getting attacked for him to realize that even if he didn’t make it easier for Ichigo to find trouble, trouble could still find him on its own. After all, Uryu has his own superpowered dad-- but Ryuken couldn’t stop whoever it was who attacked his own son, and wound up sitting by his hospital bed instead. This is something I wish had been a little more developed in the main story, because it really makes the themes of maturity and growing up resonate, showing that preparing your child to explore the world is oftentimes the best way to protect them in it.

(Isshin also directly compares Ichigo’s inability to protect Uryu due to his lack of powers to the position that he, Isshin, was in when Masaki was killed. Have fun with that one, shippers!)

Urahara gives Rukia a fetch quest to get “everybody’s” spiritual pressures to put in the sword. The rest of the book is then just Rukia running to everybody you would expect, getting them to give their spiritual pressure. The only funny things to note are that Zaraki makes everybody from Squad 11 put their spiritual pressures in, which would seem to undercut the heartwarming “all my friends” moment from Ichigo’s re-empowerment. There’s a silly subplot about this maybe being illegal but if you’ve read the manga you know Yamamoto eventually signs off on it. But we do get a moment where Momo quotes Captain Aizen to justify her breaking the law, which, uh…you might still have some things to work on there, my dear.

And then, with the light novel caught up to the manga, it abruptly ends without a conclusion. No, seriously, once Yama says it’s all okay (something the manga showed in flashback) the story just ends. No explanation of why Rukia shows up before the rest of the Rescue Ichigo team.

Anyhow this is a fine book if you want more details about what was happening to people that weren’t Ichigo during the Lost Agent Arc. We return to regular programming with the Thousand-Year Blood War tomorrow.