#killing has never been more wholesome

[megane-sama]

What if i cried? What if this was my last straw?

[variablejabberwocky]

...i have learned more about the batman canon/dc universe against my will and i think i get it now

i think i get why everyone is angry

because right now?

right now i'm furious

[alymccart]

[Click image > right click > "open image in new tab" for higher res]

Alright, uh. Screw it. Let's dust off this account. I was embarrassed about even drawing this, and especially about sharing it publicly, but I'm slapping it up here. Why not. Been extremely burnt out lately, doing art professionally has pretty much killed my desire to do art for the sake of enjoying it (sorry, fans of my dead comic). Mental health has been shoddy. Actual health is eh, as well. I've been too busy to really think and have been so guilty about there being so much stuff to do in my life still that I haven't really afforded myself time to relax or unwind. My enthusiasm for anything has been in the dumps for years. I don't think I've drawn more than a handful of fanart pieces in over a decade (what you see on here is pretty much it), and I've certainly never drawn something like... this. Obviously, I watched Hazbin finally (didn't even realize the show was an actual thing now, though I did love the pilot eons ago; I don't tend to traverse into fandom discussion and discourse so I've been out of the loop). I'm actually nearing double-digit rewatches... and the OST has been on repeat for weeks. Well animated, beautifully written adult cartoons? I'm here for it. Musicals? Oh yeeahhhhh! A well animated, beautifully written adult cartoon that is also a musical??? *teakettle noises*

I'm ace as hell, but wholesome, loving, devoted relationships like this in fiction seem to hit me right at my core. I also cry at heartwarming videos and movies, but that's beside the point... I just... hrrrnnnnggg... Charlie and Vaggie's relationship has SENT ME. It has an iron grip on my soul and I cannot stop it. I feel like i'm 14 years old again. I want to write fanfiction. Is it 2004?? Where am I????? What the fffffasdfasfagghfgfjhdd????????!!!! Aannnyyyyywayyyy.... This art gave me stomach butterflies the entire time I worked on it, as well as an immense amount of joy, and I really hope this can maybe do that for others. And I still have... so many ideas........ so many....

[hedgehog-moss]

In my neverending quest to keep Pampérigouste from achieving her dreams, I have launched a formal investigation into her last escape, which I had no explanations for at the time.

I figured it out! At the far far end of her pasture, near the road, a few fence posts have become more or less horizontal (the ground is quite wet / muddy there so they've never been very stable, especially with Pirlouit using them to scratch his forehead)—so instead of a high jump + long jump combo to get to the road, Pampe just had to clear the long jump over the ditch. Which is still impressive.

I also suspect that she chose to escape from this place near the road on a snowy morning as a deliberate strategy, knowing the snow plough would erase any traces of her jump, thus preventing me from discovering where the weak spot in the fence was. Well done.

You need 2 people to fix these fence posts so in the meantime I decided to kill two birds with one stone: cut all the broom and thorny bushes in this corner of the pasture and use them to form a discouraging barrier. I set to work earlier this week, and here's the same place as above, mid-process:

When I texted my mum to tell her about my new thorn-based anti-Pampe plan of action, she said "Like the Maasai who make fences with thorny acacia branches to keep out lions!" and it made me feel even more confident. I mean, I have neither acacia nor Maasai fencing techniques but my thorny shrubs are pretty aggressive, they pricked my fingers even through my thick work gloves—which felt satisfying in an anticipatory way. Excellent! prick Pampe's nose exactly like this. How could a llama not be deterred by a fence material that deters apex predators?

Vexingly enough, she seemed quite supportive of my efforts. At one point she breathed some warm air against my shoulder in a gentle, patronising way.

We were engaged in psychological warfare all afternoon—every time I stepped away from my vegetal fence, feeling like it was now good enough, Pampe would immediately come to inspect it, cheerful and impatient, which sapped my confidence so I would go and add a few more shrubs. (Note that I sort of plaited the first / biggest shrubs with the pre-existing fence so they don't go flying on the road, and so Pampe can't just push them aside.)

On the right: Poldine, looking for little fresh leaves to eat amidst the chaos. On the left: Pampérigouste, thinking.

(At this point the barrier was only 20% thorns, and 80% broom—the fact that she waded through it without a care and didn't prick her belly made me go and add more thorny shrubs, and pack them more densely)

It's kind of fun watching Pampe think, honestly. Can I jump over this? Do I have enough visibility? Can I eat my way to freedom (again)? But these shrubs are disgusting. Am I above exploiting my daughter's lack of culinary discernment to achieve my goals? Maybe I should go back to my calculations re: probability of wild boar destruction. I may have pincushions for hands after handling prickly bushes for two hours but I'm helping stimulate my llama's intellect and creativity and that's so important.

I tried to alternate broom and thorny branches so that the non-thorny broom became tangled up with thorns and brambles to form an impenetrable and incomprehensible wall. I will call it this method the salmagundi-fence.

Poldine is in awe of my vegetal installation.

Can I just say, compared to Pampérigouste who constantly has a devilish glint in her eye, Pampelune's face exudes wholesome politeness and moral goodness. It's still hard to believe they're mother and daughter.

I went home once my fence started looking like Maleficent's forest of thorns and Pampe had long stopped trying to wade through it, but I still felt antsy and ended up coming back one hour later to have my apéritif with the llamas so I could keep an eye on Pampe until nightfall.

... where is Pampe?

Oh. Here. No worries!

Still staring at the road. Still thinking.

...

With all that said, please admire my beautifully delirious Forest of Thorns-fence and let me know what you think.

[rdr2gifs]

One of my favorite aspects of Arthur’s character is his curiosity and his non-judgmental nature. Even if they are people who are totally different from him he doesn’t judge and he is always intrigued by the unknown.

For example Jamie, having joined a cult and behaving quite foolishly, gave Arthur a lot of trouble. Despite this, Arthur chose not to ridicule him and instead comforted him and said that he cannot judge him because he doesn’t know how his life has been.

Even though Arthur hates big cities, civilisation etc. he is not judgmental towards a woman who comes from a wealthy family, who doesn’t know a thing about survival, who probably never had to work for a single thing in her life. Instead, he is encouraging and helps her be more confident in herself.

Albert Mason, who is totally helpless and who probably couldn’t survive 2 days in the wild couldn’t be more different from Arthur, yet Arthur respects him and likes helping him.

Some of my favorite wholesome encounters include Algernon Wasp, who wants to sell Arthur a corset and make him try on extravagant hats, which aren’t Arthur’s style at all. Arthur could be mean to him but instead he makes excuses to not disrespect his work and even lets him put on the hat after little persuasion!

Arthur is intrigued by the flamboyant Charles Châtenay and his mischiefs and helps him/spends time with him even if there’s no reward for him.

He helps a crazy scientist obsessed with creating his robot son, a crazy palaeontologist..he is obviously drawn to new/unfamiliar things. Even though he might find them weird at first he doesn’t mind and wants to know more about them.

Arthur also doesn’t seem to like physical affection much but I can remember at least 4 instances where he lets people hug him to comfort them even though it might be uncomfortable for him.

I genuinely think that for anyone to say that Arthur wouldn’t be accepting of people different from him, would be homophobic, transphobic, would kill you if you were near him, would be mean to you etc. have no understanding of him at all. Arthur treats people like they treat him and he doesn’t think he is in any position to judge how others live.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Bonus: if you manage to find “Bigfoot” and visit him for the second time he asks Arthur if he has missed him and Arthur is really awkward and doesn’t really know what to say so he says he also missed him haha

[write-tama]

"to live with the milkman."

╰┈➤ francis mosses (the milkman) x doorman!reader

sypnosis ; reader is worried because francis hasnt been seen in a week. they decide to pay francis' apartment a little visit..

containing! ; lois stilinksy, working as doorman, gender neutral pronouns, use of y/n, francis being a little sick and out of uniform, francis and reader eat mac n cheese tg :3

authors note ; this is lowkey a slowburn-- i didnt mean to write so much D: i started writing yesterday morning and just finished this morning LOL but ya its very just wholesome and soft ^^

4.12.24 | 2.7k words

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

As a doorman, you realize a pattern of people would often come and go through the apartment. You know who goes to work in the morning and who comes home in the afternoon, and you know what days they typically go out and days where they don’t.

So, I'm not totally creepy when I say I've noticed a shift in Francis’ schedule, right? He’s not one to typically go out unless he has work in the morning— which is usually Tuesday through Friday, but lately, I haven’t seen him all week.

Nothing but the worst truly went through my mind. He could’ve been eaten by a doppel, or worse, was mistaken for a doppel and was exterminated on sight! These anxious feelings went through my head as I nervously clicked my pen. I glanced at today’s list again, as if magically waiting for his name and picture to show up on the piece of paper.

click, click, click.

Through the office window, I heard the subtle steps of heels clicking against the worn tiles. Sighing, I sat up straight and folded my hands in front of desk, forcing my anxious thoughts to the back of my head in order to continue doing my job. I looked up to meet the gaze of thick magenta bangs with eyes barely visible I sort of wonder how she even navigates through her surroundings.

“Good afternoon.” She greeted, her thick lips curling into a polite smile. I nod as I took her ID and entry request through the letter box, scanning through the documents for any misspellings or misinformation. As I carefully examined the print, I notice Lois’ lips pursing into a curious point.

“You looked troubled, sweetheart.” She noted. “Is everything alright? Besides work-stress that is.”

I sighed a little, placing her card down before looking through today’s list. I checked off Lois’ picture before turning to my request checklist. “Yeah, I just.. I don’t know. Have you heard from Francis recently?” I asked, not even masking the worried tone in my voice. Lois hummed a little, as if thinking about the last time she has even seen the man.

“The last time I saw him, he looked extremely tired. Like more tired than usual. I think he was just coming home from work? He was coughing and sniffling a lot.” She recalled. “Poor boy.. He must’ve been sick for a while.” Lois shook her head. With her words I felt like a pressure had been released from my chest. Oh, good, so there is a chance he’s alive, I thought to myself. I slid back her ID and smiled.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry, I just get worried knowing that a neighbor could’ve been killed by a doppel or any force of nature of that matter.” I lightly chuckled. Lois smiled, taking her ID before looking at me.

“You should talk to him. I’m sure he could use the company right now.” Lois suggested, but through that grin I could see that teasing smile.

I sighed a little, a little grin starting to form on my face. “C’mon, Lois, that would be way too embarrassing!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in my chair. Lois lightly giggled, raising a white glove to stiffle her laughs.

“Oh, it won’t hurt, honestly! You never know what could happen~” she said, all singy-songy. I rolled my eyes before pressing the unlock button.

“Yeah, yeah. The door’s right there.” I sarcastically replied, a big grin on my face.

“Just think about it!” She called out as she walked through the door. I shook my head in amusement, listening to the door click behind her. I locked the door and returned to my previous slouched position.

Maybe I should pay him a visit.

My shift ended around late evening. I packed my bag and slid on my cardigan before locking the door behind me and hiding the key in a place only the next doorman would be able to find it. As I walked towards the exit of the building, I thought about what Lois had said earlier about paying him a visit. I never even really attempted to go past the lobby area of the apartment building. I had no purpose to anyway. And plus, it would’ve been a lengthy process to even request a visitor’s pass due to the security. I looked over to the doorman’s office, realizing that as of now, no one is on duty. Would it be morally wrong to go against the rules of the literal job I worked in?

Maybe.

But maybe my curiosity and anxiety could take over just for this one moment.

I walked back to the doorman’s office and unlocked the door. I placed the key back in its original hiding place before entering. I made sure to lock the door behind me before taking a look around the room again. Behind the doorman’s seat, there’s a door that leads to the stairway of the apartment complex. Its main purpose was to serve as a fire escape just in case of an emergency. Eagerly and swiftly, I gently pushed the door open, making sure to not make much noise. Once I walked out, I was met with the smell of old concrete and a spiral of stairs. I sighed to myself, remembering that Francis does in fact live on the third floor.

The stairs felt endless as my shoes clicked on the hard concrete. Fortunately, I only had to take a break only two times. I was finally at the end of the stairs, my legs tired from the endless climbly. I pushed the door open and was greeted with a typical carpeted hallway with blinding yellow-white lights that nearly burned my eyes. I sighed before trailing through the doors, looking at each number plate in order to locate the right room.

“Room 02, room 02..” I hummed to myself, just like how I would while scanning through files. After turning a corner, I was finally able to locate Francis’ room. I raised my fist to knock at the door, but the soft, soothing sounds of piano muffled through the wood. I stopped in my tracks, feeling as if my knock would disturb the perfect flow of the keys as I’m sure its song filled the apartment with grace. I waited for the keys’ song to slow to an end, the melody slowly fading out of the air and a sigh following its silence. I couldn’t help but smile, and sure this gave me enough proof that Francis was in fact still alive, but.. Something about his skills on the piano made me even more intrigued by the man.

I gently knocked with my knuckles, but making sure I was firm enough for the knocks to even be heard. From inside, I heard a chair scrape against wooden floorboard before footsteps steadily approaching me. A couple locks were undone before the squeak of the door filled my ears. I looked up and there Francis was— his eyebags were relatively darker and he was still in sleep attire with a baggy set of pajama pants and a fitting white tee.

“Oh— uh, (y/n)—” he said a little shocked to see me. I smiled a little, tilting my head at him.

“You shouldn’t have opened your door so fast. I could’ve been a doppel, y’know?” I advised. I heard him suck air through his teeth as he realized his rookie mistake.

“Mmm.. I’m sorry..” He mumbled, making me raise an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve been worried about you since I haven’t seen you in a while. I just.. Wanted to check if you were okay.”

Francis raised his eyebrows in surprise. It made me wonder if anyone else but me paid him a visit due to his absence. We lingered in silence for a minute. he stared down at me as I stared up at him.

“..May I be invited in?” I requested, breaking the silence. Francis blinked his eyes a little, as if he had been lost in thought previously.

“Mmm.. ID and entry request, please?” Francis teased, smiling a little. I scoffed, immediately catching on to his wittiness.

“Ha ha, very funny, Mr. Mosses.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes. His grin grew wider, clearly amused by reaction. He stepped aside from the door, allowing me to enter. I walked in, bag still clutched to my side as I took a look around the apartment.

It was humble but quaint space. The ceiling lights were off and frankly looked like they were never used, however, his lamps illuminated a soft warm orange on his furniture. He had a small box TV and dull red couch with a small round coffee table planted in the middle. Huddled in a corner was his old piano he must've been playing earlier. Francis closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it as well. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” He apologized, quickly rushing to his couch where clothes scattered over the armrests. He went down a small hallway I assumed to be where his bathroom and bedroom was. I took off my shoes and placed my bag on the table that sat next to the door before sitting myself on the couch.

I sighed a little, almost drowning into the soft pillows. It almost made me question why he would be struggling with sleep if he has a couch as comfortable as this. I could see a bit of his kitchen from sitting on his couch. It was a decent size with counters on one side and the appliances on the other. It seemed like he had something on the stove cooking as well.

Francis walked in shortly after and took his seat on other end of the couch, keeping a distance between the two of us. I brought my knees to my chest while hugging his couch pillows. I looked at him for a bit, trying to figure out myself as to why he hasn’t been out recently. Not only was his dark circles were more apparent, his hair was a little longer and messier. He looked paler than usual as well. Francis turned to me, a curious look on his face.

“Is it apparent..?” Francis asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, a little confused on what he meant.

“Hm?” I hummed in response.

“That I’m coming down with something.” He chuckled slightly. I shrugged a little, leaning back on the couch cushions.

“I mean.. Your hair is messier.” I smiled, admiring the frizz on the top of his head. Francis quickly glanced up before running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s not that messy..” He sighed.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. You always got that milkman hat on the top of your head.” I laughed. I glanced over to the kitchen again, realizing that steam was coming through the glass lid. “I think you might want to get that.” I suggested, nodding my head towards the stove. He hummed a little before getting off of the couch and heading towards the kitchen. I watched as he reached the top of the cabinets, stretching up with ease. I couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders to his slim waist defined by his white shirt.

“Hey, I made mac n’ cheese if you’d like a bowl.” He offered, his voice immediately cutting through my daze.

“Oh— uh, yeah of course. I was about to get dinner after I got off my shift but here I am.” I chuckled. He nodded before grabbing another platter to make my own plate. I sat patiently on the couch before noticing the remote on the coffee table. “Hey, can I turn on the TV?” I asked.

“Hm?” Francis hummed from the kitchen. “Mmm.. Sure. I don’t mind.” He shrugged before turning back to his task.

Something about this felt so.. Safe.. And homely. I felt comfortable, despite me never even being in Francis’ apartment before. It felt familiar, and I couldn’t lie to myself and say that this is the most peace I’ve felt since the news of doppelgangers came out. I picked up the TV remote and flicked it on, browsing through the channels before find a movie we could idly have in the background.

Francis came out of the kitchen, holding two bowls with forks in each. This time, he took his seat much closer to me before placing my bowl on the coffee table. “Thank you.” I politely nodded. I took the bowl and started to eat. Honestly, to my surprise, the food was actually pretty good for a man who worked day and night. I was enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of us as we enjoyed our dinner together— something I barely saw myself seeing tonight.

“Hey.. (y/n)?” Francis mumbled quietly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I replied, taking another scoop of the creamy mac n’ cheese to shove in my mouth.

“Why did you.. Come here?”

Something about that question made my heart skip a little. Why did I come here? I mean— I came here to make sure he was okay. That’s my job as doorman. To make sure all of the neighbors are safe and alive. But even when I heard him through the door, clearly shown to me that he is still breathing, I stuck around anyway.

Why did I come here?

“Well— I uh..” I trailed off a little, sort of lost to where I should even begin. “I was just worried about you. That is my job, no?” I said, clearing my throat. I kept my eyes on the screen, a little embarrassed to even face him.

“Mmm.. I don’t entirely believe that.” He hummed. “You could’ve called.”

Oh, fuck, yeah no— he’s right.

Ugh, Lois!

You set me up!

“That’s true..” I chuckled. “I guess you caught me.”

“Mmm..” He mumbled. He placed his now empty dinner on the table before folding his hands in his lap. “So..?”

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat fast inside my chest and a warmth creeping up my whole body. I placed my bowl onto the coffee table as well, and finally mustered the courage to look at him in his eyes.

“Francis..” I mumbled. He leaned in a little closer, as if he wanted to lean into my words and trusted them to embrace him.

“I.. I just.. I think I like you..” I trailed out. My head felt cloudy as a tingling sensation danced all over my skin, feeling like a little kid during recess confessing to her elementary school crush. “I've liked you.. Ever since we met. I never really said anything because I felt like you weren't necessarily interested in a relationship.. But Lois and Rafttellyn would always point out how you would look at me and I just—!”

A strong hand placed firmly on my cheek— so cold against my blushing face— pulled me in to meet those soft lips of his. I was completely silenced and wide eyed, but I knew what he was telling me. Everything in those pink lips told me that everything was going to be okay, and he liked me just as much..

I fluttered my eyes closed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to his chest. The TV buzzed in front of us, sputtering incoherent actors cracking jokes and delivering their lines. Our finished bowls of dinner were scattered on the table, but it was easy to tell the food was delicious for no piece of macaroni was left unnoticed. I pressed harder against his lips, letting the thought of breathing slip my mind.

If this is what it's like to live with him—

To spend our evenings chatting

Eating dinner on his couch

Watching TV while enjoying each other's presence

Then maybe I could get used to this.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

tagging ; @crybabies-heart @shypizzaperson @your-local-oc-maker @spearsillustration @mochi46106 @seraphlin @glxyaaandromeda (some ppl i tagged either bc they followed me on my old acc and just some ppl who interacted with my past content and just thought they would be interested in this fic :3

thank you so much for reading and reposts and likes are always so, so appreciated <3

[bleghxy]

More GL manga recs:

Summary: Aya is a high school student who is captivated by the mysterious "Onii-san" who works at a CD store. The real "Onii-san" is actually Mitsuki, a girl in her class with whom she had never spoken to before.

Review: This is a very cute read!!! The story doesn't drag out any drama. When I first started reading this, I was afraid it'd drag the secret of Mitsuki being the "Onii-san" but it doesn't. It's very well paced while also being a slow burn. They're both very well written.

Status: Ongoing

Summary: Bubbly, energetic first-year high school student Himari falls head over heels for her senpai Yori after hearing her band perform on the first day of school. Himari tells Yori she just loves her, and to Himari's surprise, Yori says she loves Himari back! But when Himari realizes that she and her senpai are feeling two different kinds of love, she begins to ask herself what "love" really means...

Summary: They're both so adorable!!! I love their relationship sm. There's a lot of other wlw relationships in this manga so that's a plus point. There's also some angst here and there. It also has an anime adaptation coming out next year!

Status: Ongoing

Summary: England, the early 1900s. Alice, a young noblewoman, has a Japanese maid named Hanako working in her household. The two have a fairly typical relationship…until the day Alice begs Hanako to kill her. As Hanako tries to figure out why her mistress would make such a terrible request, she and Alice grow closer until an entirely new feeling begins to blossom between them.

Review: The summary doesn't really do justice to the manga's plot but I don't want to say much because I'll mistakenly give out spoilers so I'll just say it's angsty so prepare yourself for that. Both of the characters and the relationship between them are very well written.

Status: Completed

Okay this isn't a manga, it's a manhua(chinese comic). I haven't read enough GL manhua to make a list about it so I'm putting it here. This manhua is called Tamen de Gushi. I think the English translation of the story name is called "Their Story"/ "SQ begin w/your name"

Summary: The funny romantic story of how Qiu Tong and Sun Jing met and fell in love.

Review: It was one of my first GLs so it has a very special place in my heart. I laughed a lot while reading this. It's mostly on the comedy side. Qiu Tong and Sun Jing's relationship is so so adorable. The side characters in this story are also lovable. The characters in this feel very relatable. Unfortunately due to censorship in China the author had been told to remove the confession scene of the main characters in the physical copies and the author rejected to do that. Because of this, the manhua doesn't have proper chapters anymore but the author still does post little snippets of their life together on weibo and twitter. However there's still 200+ chapters of wholesomeness so please do give it a read!

If you want more GL recs:

[simp4konig]

Self-aware König X Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: ~2800

König slowly comes to the realisation that he was in a game, that he was never real, and that he'll never be with reader.

His sense of self deteriorates as all he wishes for is to escape from the boundaries of his code and be real.

In this instance, ignorance really *was* bliss.

*Slow burn

*König has a mental breakdown at one point lmao

Edit on same day: HOLY SHIT thank u for so many notes!!!!!!!!!!! 🥹🥹💞💞💞💞💞 You guys are so nice 🫣🫣

*Self-aware AU belongs to @puff0o0 !!!🥳🥳 (The girl behind the disguise🥸... Was rthis loser all along!!!!! 😈😈imagine giving permission to 👍THIS 👍idiot to write Ur fic idea lol u made a mistake 💀💀💀ok but idid my best not to ruin their awesome au with this pathetic controbution and jope I honoured it well 😭😭 but fr i had been stalking their profile since the begigning of their self aware! au and ivloved their acc 🥺🥺I love their imagines and how they fulfill the request yet leave enoith for imaginstion !! (which, don't mind if I do🤠all of the König scenarios added tovmy incessant daydreamimg hhhhhhhhh oh no),, and when they followed me I was staring at my phone with the BIGGEST goofy grin on my face 🥹🥹Thank YOU sm!!!!! 🫂MUCH LOVE!!!!!!!!!!💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

*To anyone waiting (I've gotten such lovely messages from people saying they liked my first fic (which made me so happy as it was the first ever fanfiction I published online🥹🥹)), Part TWO of my first fic is on its way !!!,, I didn't want to make u guys all fluffy 🥰🩷💘✨🤗 inside only to tear your hearts 💔🥀🗡️🗡️😭 in two witj this 😿 dw I promise to reward u guys with another fic and cute himbo (and absolute menace while on the battlefield 👹)König <33, with King X König having more wholesome interactions in the near future!!

If you had told König that he wasn't real, he would have looked at you blankly and said nothing, passing off your suggestion as a joke of sorts that he possibly couldn't understand.

Perhaps if he was ever faced with a situation like this he'd question you about it, but nothing more, and drop the subject at hand.

Honestly, the likelihood of him ever thinking over this twice would have been slim, as he would not pay your philosophy much thought shortly afterwards.

In fact, he believed that his life as a Kortac operator was indeed a real one, and he wore his embroided Austrian flag on his shoulder with something next to pride, always praised for his outstanding efforts by his superiors in the same tone of voice. To König, however, it meant nothing, and he'd only nod his head in an attempt at gratitude, turning his back to the commemoration in indifference.

Despite not remembering anything of his childhood, his upbringing — hell, even any of his past prior to becoming a soldier — König didn't ever think over it too deeply. The overwhelming pressure to make sure missions went without a hitch and constant deployments to foreign countries left no time to reminisce, especially not when his work was so demanding, and it only made sense to him that they were the reason for his forgotten memories.

Besides, even if he had time to spare and be inactive, he had to stay focused, as being an operator meant that he couldn't let any nostalgia or softness distract him from his tasks.

On the battlefield, König worked on autopilot, performing finishing kills with efficiency and with machine-like precision. Reacting quickly to enemies ambushing him from behind or an enemy that was laying on the floor behind the corner waiting to shoot him in the head, he'd eliminate the targets with bullets to spare. Really, he was unstoppable, and he was on a killing streak.

Until he was shot in the head one day.

The moment it happened, the shot was like an explosion that almost obliterated his eardrums, outside noise deafened like his head was underwater. All he could hear was the high-pitched ringing, and it held an uncanny resemblance to the beeping of a heart rate monitor machine that he would never lay next to, dying instead on a bed of cold rubble and broken shrapnel.

Somehow conscious enough to look around, his mind was completely empty, eyes attempting to adjust. What he'd assumed would happen in a time like this was his mind flashing with memories like a movie reel in his last moments, his entire life playing out in his final dying seconds.

Yet he remembered nothing. No Mama, no Papa, no childhood or any his life trials, nothing that had changed him and moulded his character, not even his motive for enlisting into the military in the first place.

The part that was most unnerving about all this was his complete apathy to it all.

Did he even care that he was dying? Shouldn't he at least feel regret at having essentially been the one to pull the trigger, cutting his own life short with the lifestyle he had committed himself to? Why wasn't he scared, sad, even bewildered at the very least, shocked that his life would soon end so unceremoniously? Fuck, not even mild disappointment at least at not even had travelled the world, and failing to ever explore any place besides abandoned buildings housing hostages and terrorist bases swarming with foes? Nothing at all?

Unable to process his situation, König just... laid there, unmoving, while his surroundings moved in double speed. Nondescript figures holding rifles wearing camo and balaclavas blurred in his vision, and he couldn't differentiate the enemy from his own.

Slowly losing consciousness, he felt his world darken around him, dulling his senses to the mayhem unfolding in real time. He'd accepted his fate, and could do nothing about it. That was that. And this was it.

It was a shock to his system when a silhouetted hand pulled him up by the arm limp by his side and shouted in his face, "Get up, soldier! This is no place to die!"

König didn't need to be told twice. He nodded his head robotically, his eyes looking ahead of him with a thousand-yard stare, and not even sparing a glance to the anonymous ally that saved him, he picked up the his gun off the floor and loaded another magazine into it with a satisfying click.

In his delirium, he worked on autopilot after that, shooting at anything that shot at him first. Too much in a daze, he was past the point of realising that the gaping bullet wound had suddenly sealed itself, vanishing entirely and leaving no mark that it was ever there.

After that, König didn't realise that he wasn't real when any injuries still didn't affect him. He assumed that his insensitivity to wounds was a result of a high pain tolerance, and his body healing miraculously was his ability to regenerate fast.

Although he would lay on the ground, his arm outstretched while through gritted teeth shouting: "Scheisse! Ich brauche hier Hilfe! I need some help over here!"; truth be told, he'd only do so when he after getting used to seeing so many bodies writhe in pain like so, and something for some reason told him that it was the right thing to do.

Waking up moments after not far from the spot he supposedly died in a daze, all bullet wounds gone, he didn't have time in the moment to think over the specifics of his death. Maybe he was hallucinating, or remembering things incorrectly.

König began to suspect that something was wrong when he'd hear his operators say the same sentence word for word. He rationalised that the constant shooting that never ceased even late into the night and dangerous missions that left him with far too many close calls put pressure on his mind. This mania amongst soldiers in the military was a common phenomenon after all, so it shouldn't have been as much of a surprise for König when he felt waves of déjà vu at hearing statements he could have sworn were related to him before at one point, and going to infiltrate areas that were vaguely familiar.

At some point, he thought something was REALLY wrong when he was storming a military base with... a sniper rifle.

Time stood still as he inspected the weapon in his hands, eyes wide.

That... was impossible. He had never been a sniper. True, he had wanted to be one from the beginning, yet he had adapted to his role as the main means of assault, always on the offensive rather on the defensive. So then... Why?

Adding to that, his appearance would differ. They were subtle changes at first, yet still noticeable: a red helmet instead of his black; an ochre hood instead of his black veil with its signature red streaks; a sniper camoflauge when that disguise had never been in his possession before; and even a gas mask with a hazmat suit when he had been wearing something else altogether on the helicopter heading towards its destination.

Although König hadn't know it yet, his reality was slowly shattering along the cracks, but he stubbornly fought the gnawing feeling that ate him up from the inside. He had to stay focused, he repeated to himself. No time to ponder when a task was at hand.

"All units ready your weapons, and in position immediately." Through his walkie-talkie, a voice began counting down the time left before the mission would begin. "60 seconds."

König checked all of his gear, making sure that everything was in place and he was fully equipped. A rifle, a side-arm, ammo, grenades, a med kit for an emergency and a knife. "40 seconds."

Looking up into the sky and straight into the sun, he didn't need to cover his sight as his eyes weren't affected by it at all. Yet, his eyes squinted in confusion, sensing that he was seeing something that he wasn't meant to see behind the glowing eye. "20 seconds."

He saw more than an eye. An ear, a nose, then a mouth. A face.

He saw you.

You were looking at him through a screen, holding a controller and waiting to start playing your game.

His reality shattered all at once, and he stumbled on his feet, unable to regain his balance, feeling himself go weak in the knees. He tuned out the all-important seconds through the communication device, unable to compose himself as for the first time ever he struggled to breathe.

Suddenly, all of it made sense.

People telling him the same things and never deviating from the topic of the mission, the reawakenings, the pain insensitivity — all of it was because none of it was never real.

People never branched off into other topics of conversation because their sole existence was limited to a few hand-selected voiceliness and idle animations. With each upgrade and level up, König had gotten praise from from him superiors, which explained how emotionless their announcements always sounded and why they were so constant.

The frequent brushes with death weren't a matter of luck, and instead it was just his entity respawning until a certain condition was met, until either Kortac or Specgru came out victorious — otherwise, he could "die" as many times as it took until the time ran out.

He was unfazed by bullets that grazed him and knives that tore though his flesh as he could physically feel no pain, his very existence artificial, his skin composed of pixels with no human matter hidden beneath them.

And, his inability to trace back to before he was transferred to Kortac was all because it was all he was programmed to know. There was no childhood. There was no Mama or Papa. It was just him in this world, and he had been manufactured, his thoughts and behaviours fabricated.

For a moment, he considered you the creator of his word, his God, and felt forsaken. He wanted to curse you, to snap your neck in his hands and watch your head drop lifelessly in his hold.

Yet it became apparent that you weren't the one behind this realm. Seeing the headphones strapped to your head and the controller held in anticipation in your hands, you were simply indulging in a past time, and weren't to blame for his state in any way. It wasn't your fault that you were unknowingly playing as a König trapped in the game.

You let out a groan of frustration, mashing buttons on your controller in an attempt to get König to move.

"What the fuck is going on?!" You hissed, trying in any way you could to start playing. Checking your router and the game's ping, you saw that your connection was secure, and that there was no reason for König to be frozen in place. "Fucking piece of shit console."

König shook his head, still disbelieving and unable to accept his fictional reality, yet hearing the sound of your voice made everything an even tougher pill to swallow. He had to stay in character. For you; it was the least that he could do.

After the initial lag at the beginning of the match, the game went smoothly and you couldn't find any faults. However, you suddenly noticed that your movements over König improved, moving with more fluidity and suddenly taking less damage than what you would normally use to. Headshot after headshot and kills all of the time poured onto on your screen until you'd find yourself being ganged up by bitter players wanting to ruin your streak as revenge.

Still, you topped the leaderboards with a new personal record that night. 97 kills to 0 deaths flashed on your screen, and you jumped up from your gaming chair, ecstatic, almost knocking it over in the process.

König felt butterflies in his stomach seeing you smile and jump around excitedly, and that's when he had found his purpose.

From that moment on, you became his lifeline. You gave the unfeeling König something to live for, a motive to keep fighting that he hadn't been given when being created in the game — for you and your greater good.

Really, you made him feel things: made him feel alive; made him fight with more passion and determination when your happiness was on the line.

He fell... In love.

The feelings and emotions he felt in his chest chest were genuine, and weren't pre-written in a script or manipulated by a third-party. Even the bullets that would pierce through his gear and leave him on the ground withering in agony was worth it, and he'd exchange his invincibility any day to feel what he felt when he saw your face, and the smile that tugged at your lips when you were revived or got a difficult kill.

His love for you was immortal, and it would persist through generations and could last for a lifetime, and König was almost certain that you could feel all of his energy channelling through your TV.

He found himself lovingly staring at you through the screen, admiring you as if you were an ephemeral being, a beautiful angel, even when your hair was greasy, your old tee had armpit stains and your eyes were bloodshot from how long you had been playing. Really, none of that put König off — if anything, all of those made you so distinctly you, so human.

Yet, König was in love with someone that was practically in another dimension and he would never speak to them, never touch them, never share thoughts and pass the time doing everything and nothing with them. None of that, because he wasn't real.

Had his life improved now they he had grown self-awareness? Had his ignorance really been bliss before his revelation? Perhaps if he had been another NPC that only gained manipulated consciousness whenever the player spawned in the map he wouldn't be so stricken with grief and crouched over in agony, the knuckles on his hands turning white from how fervently he was gripping his mask. He'd hyperventilate off-screen, sometimes the torment being too much.

Being so close to you yet being restricted to his three-dimensional world was bittersweet at the least, and internal suffering at most. His insatiable craving to be with you, and you with him only, fuelled his desperation, and he tried to keep you with him for as long as possible through any means necessary.

When you selected an operator that wasn't König, your game glitched heavily and would even crash whenever you made the mistake of even complimenting their design, and God forbid whenever you tried to play as someone other than him, as your console would near explode.

When you'd boot up a different game on your PlayStation, your loading screen would suddenly transport you back to the one of MW2, König greeting you with a voiceline that he reserved and perfected just for you:

"Welcome back, schatz. I have been waiting for you." Because he treasured you, and you were the only person that he could ever have feelings for.

Perhaps a recent update was fucking up your console, or it was just malfunctiong due to age. Either way, playing on an eight year old PS4 meant it could only run for so long and glitches like this were inevitable, yet you persisted in keeping the console running, not in your budget to afford to upgrade.

You'd search frantically on the internet for any information about the new König voicelines and whether there was any resolution for your problem when playing CoD, something telling you that your game was not functioning in the way that it should.

A thought crossed your mind that König had gone rogue, and you tried to laugh it off. Swallowing thickly, that still didn't relieve the deep pit in your stomach. If anything, the mere idea made it worse for you, and you'd get an intense gut feeling that would make you feel dizzy whenever König would make eyes contact with you and stand there, making you question whether he was acting out of character or not.

His attempts to keep you with him were commendable, yet none of it could change the fact that it would never be anything more than one-sided pining, a deep longing for a person whose world kept spinning while his stopped once you logged off the game, his day ending abruptly and being consumed by darkness.

For now, König had to content himself with being stuck behind a screen. He wished so desperately to be able to touch you, to escape this human generated world that trapped him in these bounds, and to find who he really is when with you. Shrouded in this deep black void, all he could do was wait patiently until you'd boot up the game again.

A hand was placed on his side of the screen longingly, resting it gently on the face on the other side.

Note: this wasn't meant to be so sad ,how did an idea of König popping out from the screen turnvto this 😭😭

[froggibus]

Hey can I request headcanons for overwatch characters and if their gf was drunk and asked them "would you still love me if I was a worm" with the overwatch men please (you don't have to do all of them but PLEASE include McCree and Reaper)

“Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Worm?” - Overwatch Boys

Includes: Cassidy, Reaper, Genji, Zenyatta, Ramattra, Hanzo, Lucio + Baptiste (w gn! reader)

Genre: fluff/kinda crack?

CW: general crack, kinda dumb tbh, suggestive in Genji and Baps, Ram is Ram (lmk if I missed anything)

been in a little bit of a writing slump but this was too good to pass up lol. I want to get a bit more writing done this week so who knows how that will go. anyway, enjoy <3 hope you like it anon!

————

Cassidy:

“what kinda question is that??”

looks at you in flabbergastation 

you pout and bat your eyes at him and of course, he breaks 

“you’re really not gonna let this go, huh? alright—of course I’d still love you, darlin’. I’d keep you in a lil jar and you could accompany me on my missions”

a jar????

now you’re the flabbergasted one 

jars don’t have air—he’s gonna let you suffocate?? 

what are you?? rainbow dash (sorry)??

somehow leads to him going out into the yard despite it being the middle of the night to try and find a worm

somehow finds one?? 

keeps it in a jar as a pet just to prove he would love you as a worm

even names it after you and pets it’s head and calls it “my wriggly little y/n”

weirdly wholesome experience would try again

Reaper

“of all the stupid shit you could have asked me…”

he says that but he’s already considering it after the question leaves your mouth 

would he love you as a worm? 

“what kind of worm”

what do you mean what kind of worm?? does it matter?? 

obviously the pink wriggly kind 

he has to ponder this 

sits in his chair stroking his chin trying to think of how you would be as a worm

“would you still be able to talk and think or would you be an actual worm”

????

“it would be me if I was a worm, Gabe”

more pondering 

“I’d love you platonically but you would probably have a short life span. I’d throw you a worm funeral.”

better than any response you could have expected but would not try again

Genji

“would we still have sex”

please hit this man

he’s joking of course—he’s not that weird 

“why would you be a worm tho”

just answer the question, Genji

green cyborg ninja dude has no idea what to answer 

will you be mad if he loves your worm self more than your current self?? would you be weird if he said he would love a wormy version of you??

“I would get myself turned into a worm too and then we could have a wormy life together and a wormy wedding and little wormy kids”

“you just want to have wormy sex” >~>

“that too”

at least he’s honest?

exactly as you expected, would not try again

Zenyatta

“a worm? like the insect?”

“yes? what other worms are there”

considers this

“is everything okay?”

poor omnic boy is so confused. are you planning on turning into a worm??? 

please reassure him it’s just a hypothetical and you’re not turning into a worm

goes on a ten minute tangent about how we are all the same in the Iris, and that he will love you no matter what form you take

honestly so wholesome + cute 

“i will care for you in this life, and the next, and all of the ones after that. even the ones where you are a worm.”

good enough would try again

Ramattra 

“No”

way to sugarcoat it, babe

it’s only when you get upset that he sighs and pulls you into his lap

“why would you ever become a worm? is someone trying to harm you? you know I would never let anyone bring harm to you.”

you try to explain that it’s just a hypothetical but he’s already going on a tangent on what he would do if you got turned into a worm

talks for five minutes alone on how he would defeat your enemies and defend your honour 

says he would “put you out of your misery”????

“you would KILL ME?!”

“as an act of honour”

babe….

0/10 would not try again

Hanzo

“why”

idk bro just answer the question 

lots of sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose

“would I also be a worm or am i still human” 

only gets more confused when you say he’d be a human and you’d be a worm

probably looks up worm life expectancy and if worms are capable of love 

“would you even know who I am if you were a worm”

has to ask a million questions before he can give his final verdict 

lets out a long sigh before looking you dead in the eyes 

“…yes”

cute in the end but would not try again 

Lucio:

“would you still love me if I turned into a frog?”

that’s not the question 

somehow it turns into a discussion on if he would eat your worm self if he was his frog self? 

he insists he wouldn’t and would let you ride on his back but you insist his frog instincts would be too strong 

“babe I’ve once seen you almost eat your own finger while eating chips”

“ok and??”

says you guys could live in a swamp together and he would protect you from evil

“I could be like your own frog superhero. I could even sing you little froggy songs”

makes up this entire life of you guys living together as a frog and a worm and him serenading you by croaking songs at night 

honestly it’s the best reaction you could have gotten, would try again

Baptiste:

“i would find you a cure and turn you back into a human”

honestly he’s very amused by this whole situation 

“but what if I want to be a worm”

“if I cure you and you want to turn back into a worm, that’s on you”

fair enough

insists he needs to ‘examine’ you so he knows you’re not turning into a worm 

makes a lot of jokes at your expense too

finally sighs and admits he would keep you in a little terrarium with all the food and nutrients you need 

“ha, so you would love me if I was a worm”

“love is a strong word”

good enough, would not try again

[meanbossart]

Just thinking thoughts about Orin and Drow lore, and idk if this has been asked already, but

If Orin had just disappeared for like a year, not even Sceleritas could find her, with how obsessive pre-tadpole Drow was how would he handle that? Aside from being prideful and murdery, I don’t remember in the pre-tadpole Drow lore about any instance (after he made it to the temple) of him expressing anything else. Did the two ever have a wholesome moment?

Hmmmm not wholesome, no. I'm sorry to disappoint people who might wanted to see a more explicitly vulnerable side to both of them at that stage in their lives, but that's just not... How I envision things. I don't think anyone born into the temple would have had much room to express themselves in the way average people do.

What they did have was an undeniable connection and mutual understanding. This lasted for about 7 years, so between ages 18-25 for DU drow. (Canonically he's currently 28, give or take). I think that, sometimes, they also silently understood among themselves that things weren't always fair or good.

This might sound like a whole load of nothing to some people, but based on the culture within the cult, Orin's story, and the behavior of everyone involved in it, it seems huge to me that two people who were essentially groomed to be the embodiment of murder would harbor any kind of care for one another, even if it was subtle. The fact that they could share a bed, talk shit about Sarevok, and seamlessly work together and share in the glory of their deeds as equals is what intimacy looked like for them - before DU drow's ego (and the very need of a more explicitly intimate connection with someone, to be fair) got to his head.

They killed together, they rolled around in blood together, they bickered and fought and one time Orin stabbed him in the gut and DU drow punched her jaw out of it's socket. Then they flopped down on the ground and cackled about it while Sceleritas rushed in to stop the bleeding. Is that wholesome? I think for deified bhaalspawn who know nothing but that life it's the closest it gets.

There had to have been quiet moments I'm sure. Like Orin waiting around while DU drow got ready to go somewhere, him adjusting her headpiece, Orin slicing her brother's long hair off when he first arrived and looked like some sort of sinewy wood's creature. At night, they probably laid in bed in silence and sometimes stared at each other until either fell asleep.

I am very interested in not inventing an obscured, soft side to Orin that we didn't get to see, you know? While she wasn't always the level of manic we see in-game, she was completely unfit to function normally due to her upbringing, and this reflects in her relationships. DU drow is also undeniably emotionally stunted, just in a slightly different way.

I got off rambling to no one's surprise LOL but to answer the first part of your question - I don't think he would have been quite as dramatic about Orin just up and vanishing, as there's no explicit suggestion of death in that. He would have been insufferable to be around for a while, but in that scenario I could see his duties keeping him busy.

Not to mention that, while through death, she would be leaving him unwillingly - disappearing with no trace implies the uncomfortable possibility that she truly, honestly, just didn't want to be around him. That allows room for contempt and bitterness to fester until you wrongly convince yourself there was never any love there at all, even if just to soothe your own conscience.

He would have just become a much, much worse person that way in the sense that he would have nothing to focus on besides for his lord's will - as horrific as his attitude towards Orin was, it is very much a human feature to desperately cling to connection. With Orin around, he had a little bit of fucked up tenderness and love in him - it was a personal desire completely separate from his "job", a vestige of free-will. Without her, he just has Bhaal and whatever Bhaal wants.

Orin has always unwittingly anchored him, and then, later freed him. And he never ever deserved any of it.

🤷

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

I’ve been thinking lately about how much the ‘curse of Ymir’ really does affect the psyche of each of the nine shifters and how it impacts the ending of the story.

Up until the end of Season 3/Chapter 87-88, the reader and the viewer have no idea that the shifters have a limited amount of time to live. They seem to possess this god-like power and they can rejuvenate and survive almost any injury. They seem unstoppable.

This is what motivates Erwin to create a plan to take one of the nine shifter powers with the serum- having another Titan in your arsenal would make a difference in winning the war.

But what the Paradisians don’t know is how holding the power of the Nine just perpetuates a cycle of violence and cruelty. It’s a curse as much as it is a power. No matter how brilliant or grand your scope is for what you can do with this near limitless power, you have to contend with the fact that you will only have thirteen years to do it.

This revelation to me is the what colors the entire last arc of the story leading into and after the time skip.

For Zeke, it amps up the level of desperation he has for accomplishing the euthanization plan- relying on Eren was still a variable that was largely unpredictable, and he trusted him more than he probably would have if he weren’t running out of time.

Going back further in the story, it retroactively explains why Ymir (of the cadet corps) would go back with Reiner and Bertholdt at all- a seemingly nonsensical choice when it seems she has something to live for in her relationship with Krista/Historia. But Ymir knows she has little time left. She has no future. So she chooses to surrender.

For Annie, it shows her desperation to get back to her father, a man who showed her very little affection, and yet if she could just make it back maybe she could live at least a year or two with him and make at least one happy memory with the man who raised her to kill.

Armin, I honestly feel the most for, because what he and everyone else thought of as his salvation, was actually just saddling him with a curse. And heaps of responsibility to try and be grateful for it. He went from a character with a singular and wholesome conviction, to someone wracked with guilt and forced to solve the world’s problems with limited time and resources.

In Reiner’s case, I actually think the fact that he knows he is going to die is the only thing actually keeping him alive in the tail end of the story. He wants so badly to face retribution for his deeds, and he can only find the strength to keep towing the line because he knows his violent demise is guaranteed.

Characters like Pieck and Bertholdt seem to accept their lot in life- but deal with this internally and develop their own sense of morals despite it- albeit in different ways and in Pieck’s case with a shade of pessimism. Falco and Marcel stand out as a characters who see the farce for what it is- but still want to subject themselves to it in order to prevent someone they love from suffering through it in their place.

Eren, though, it’s easy to see how discovering he has already lived more of his life in powerless ignorance than what he has left is what ultimately causes the collapse in his character. Combine that with the way that he sees ‘future memories’ and doesn’t see any future beyond his own, and suddenly you have a naturally impulsive and violent person living in the most fatalistic reality ever. It makes perfect sense that his fall from grace is near immediate and precipitous.

What difference does all that power make if all it means is that you become a tool for destruction with no future? That you will be forced to curse someone else so that this cruel power will continue to exist? That is the true legacy of Ymir and the Eldian Empire- you can have near limitless power, but you will never have true control over your own life.

And it makes for such interesting discussions and questions about power and mortality and agency- and all the seemingly ‘correct’ and ‘incorrect’ ways to respond to their dilemma.

Anyway, it is always ‘thinking about the moral quandary of the titan shifters’ hours around here…

[cranberrv]

fic with dally teaching the reader how to drive?

never let me go

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which you and dallas go for a drive

( not proofread , swearing, lowercase intended )

when you were with dallas, you felt free. he was so reckless, so hardcore, and completely bananas. you loved to tag along on his stupid adventures, and now, your new outing is to check on ponyboy and johnny at the church that they’re hiding out in.

“you know how to drive, doll?” he asks you after picking you up, tossing you the keys. “buck won’t let me drive this beauty, but he trusts you.”

you laugh. “well he’s stupid to trust me, because i can’t drive.”

“you’re kiddin’,” he can’t hold his dumb smirk back. the endearing smirk that he gives you whenever he’s about to do something you won’t like. “c’mon, try it then, sweetie.”

“no way, dal,” you shake your head, but he’s already taken your spot in the passengers seat. “i’ll kill you, i’ll crash the car or something, i dunno-“

“i trust ya, stop freakin’ out,” he interuppts, dismissive of your worries. “i’ll teach ya how to work everythin’.”

you debate, but nod and sit in the drivers seat. gosh, it really was more intimidating up there.

“it’s pretty simple, hun,” he starts out. “pedal to your left is your clutch, it’ll make the car drive, pedal in your middle is your break, and pedal to your right is gas. you’d be stupid to not figure it out.” he looks back at you after showing you the pedals, and see’s your expression. “no, no, no, don’t give me that look. you’ll be fine. i’ll hold the wheel for ya.”

he directs you further, and eventually, you get the car going. his left hand is on yours, holding the wheel from the passengers side, helping you keep the car steady.

dallas puts in an elvis cd, and the music echoes throughout tulsa. “finally don’t gotta listen to your shit music,” he teases.

you smile and roll your eyes. “oh shut it, dal, i know you secretly like lesley gore.”

“‘sunshine and lollipops’ is the worst song i’ve ever heard. i’d rather you crash the car than to listen to that fuckin’ mess.”

“you’re mean,” you tease back, and he laughs.

“alright, that’s it, i’m lettin’ go of the wheel. i’m letting you kill us.”

“no, no, no,” you insist. “don’t let go.”

“my arm is cramping, doll,”

“don’t care. never let me go.”

he smiles, and holds your hand a little tighter. the summer breeze is coating the entire convertible in its warmth, your hair is waving in the wind, and dallas is just watching you drive, the focus in your eyes unmatched.

you reach a red light, and finally get a short break to relax. you turn to dallas. “i dunno how you drive everywhere, dal, this is stressful.”

“baby, you’re doin’ just fine.” he assures. “haven’t even run over anything yet, that’s somethin’, huh?”

“i don’t wanna kill us, dal.”

he laughs at that. “i’d hope so.” he takes a drag of his cigarette, then looks around at everything. you’re out of tulsa, out of the city. “i ain’t never been to the country before.”

“really? it’s nice, huh? all the trees and fields and stuff.”

“it looks fuckin’ boring. nothin’ to do around here, does everyone just play checkers or somethin’?”

“you’re such a downer,” you joke. you look up, and realize the light has just turned green. “oh- dal, which one is the clutch, again?”

“you’re a dumbass.” is all he says.

“dal!” you insist, and he puts his hand up in fake surrender. “i mean it, i’m keeping these cars waiting.”

“it’s your far left, doll.” he finally tells you, and you thank him, and then start driving.

you continue driving to meet the boys, and the country scenery is engulfing the both of you. fields on farmland, apple orchards, small, sweet towns, everything was so wholesome and welcoming.

you feel free, like the world is just yours and dally’s. you were born to live this moment, to drive through the countryside in your red convertible, the sun hitting your faces so perfectly that it feels like a coming-of-age movie. you feel golden.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Me after lesson 19

it was so wholesome????

levi, who is usually riddled with self-doubt and anxiety, making his choice instantly and being so far the most sure of it

levi being protective of all his younger brothers

mammon being observant and protective of, and worried about all his brothers

satan being willing to sacrifice the happiness he just got so the others can be happy

the others all coming to tell him how stupid that was before wrangling him into a group hug

FUCK'S SAKE the lesson even made that grumpy old bastard cry

no but for real he was audibly choking back tears while he finally laid out all his guilt and regret and had the therapy session that's been a long time coming

fuck he was willing to beg his father for forgiveness because he thought that was what the others wanted, and he was willing to let them go and stay back with satan even though being seperated from the others would have broken him

And also after 5 long seasons we finally got some open communication between the brothers

Lucifer finally said exactly how he feels about all his brothers and satan and it killed me dead :)

it's also insane to think about this lesson from mc's perspective because god imagine how much this must have hurt.

Just standing in the background and watching this family finally embracing each other and admitting to how much they love each other and taking the first step to move past the anger satan feels towards lucifer and being so so goddamn happy for them and so proud and absolutely bursting with love for them.

But also feeling this hollow sinking disconnect from it all, like they're watching it all through a filtered screen, because this isn't how it happens....at least not for them.

their lucifer has never had to face this choice and so has never been pushed to this corner where he became so overwhelmed that he had no choice but to tell everyone the truth.

They're looking at this loving family and trying to breathe through the aching longing for their own family, to truly be a part of all this, and it hurts even more because this is their family, ....but it's also not.

they've been accepted here but they don't belong here, not truly

It's not the family they grew to know and love and painstakingly become a part of....

it must hurt beyond understanding to see familiar faces finally moving past something that's hurt them for so long and wanting to celebrate with them but knowing out there somwhere their real family is still struggling through this very same issue and that their disappearance is only further causing pain

anyway *pulling up a word doc* i'm fine *trying to desperately articulate all this in a fic while pretending my vision isn't blurring* everything is A-Okay!

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

i explain india but i'm drunk.

Hello maggots of mine you're all such babygirls and bastards just like Aziraphale and Crowley. I'm so proud of you all for existing. Yes i'm a wholesome drunk you now know this about me. The wine tastes like rotten grapes and smells of battery acid and cost 245 rupees INR. Speaking of INR, thanks to a maggot's ask, I'm here to explain India. I've never set foot outside of this country. But I'm also very very shit at general knowledge.

To any non-Indians reading this, this is a totally legit 1000% everything covered all-inclusive summary. To any Indians reading this, I'm so so fucking sorry.

India, explained.

So there's south india and there's north india and there's north east india. north india is very racist about south india and they're both very racist about north east india. Most of these people are also probably racist either to other countries or they have internalised racism. It's a wild trip.

There are. A lot of languages here. And a LOT of scripts. I can read two scripts, understand four Indian languages and speak in two of them (badly), and those two are not my native tongues. I cannot speak in my native tongues. It's basically English at this point. These aren't dialects, those are separate. Picture like, Europe, but more, in terms of how many languages.

Everyone hates each other which is valid for the entire planet honestly.

In south india we have a lot of coconuts. Like a lot. There are so many coconuts you have no fucking idea guys you cannot escape the coconuts. I was nearly killed by a shower of coconuts when I was 5 I escaped by one second.

There are also cows. People will tell you that you are being racist when you say India has cows everywhere. But it's true. Two weeks ago I had the pleasure to be stuck in a traffic jam. Next to the street barrier thing (what divides a street im too drunk for this) I saw a huge bull fucking HUMPING a cow. The vehicles just had to move around them. They were having sex right there.

If you're a middle class Indian kid, your career options are: doctor, engineer, scientist, CA, lawyer, government official or family disappointment.

Needless to say, I was going to be doctor and am now instead family disappointment. I'm babygirling so hard it's insane. The prodigal son.

It's very ace-friendly and heterophobic in the sense that you are not supposed to be exhibiting any sexuality whatever in a respectable household. Just shut up and give virgin birth already. But be married. That's crucial.

Oh yeah gay marriage isn't legal trans people are constantly othered by society and/or given no respect whatsover and we're just all vibing here this is totally not why I'm finishing a small bottle of cheap wine on a thursday past midnight alone in my room.

Foreigners are like a zoo species you see them you're instantly concerned like what are they doing outside the TV screens and then either people are normal (rarely), they run up and take photos or try to slip into conversation (more often than you'd think, even I've been guilty of the conversation thing as a kid) OR they start talking about how 'this western culture is ruining our culture'. Which is fair but honestly both the 'cultures' these people are talking about usually involve incredible amounts of bigotry and are more similar than they think.

I think the lesson here is that humans just suck as a species. Except for you maggots. I love you all and I will defend you with my life.

THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT IS INSANELY AMAZING. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE CHAAT. I HAVE NO SPICE TOLERANCE SO I HAVE TO BEG ON MY KNEES FOR THE SPICES TO BE REDUCED BUT STILL. THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT, YOU GUYS. YOU NEED IT.

Sorry yes I'm normal. ALSO THE STREET DOGS. THE INDIES. THEY'RE SO LOVELY AND SWEET AND CHAOTIC AND I KEEP TALKING TO THEM. Once when I was crying I made the dog distress while and like five dogs that I didn't know came running to me and comforted me and licked me.

INDIAN DANCE MUSIC. I FUCKING LOVE IT IT'S INSANE. My family were elitist as fuck so I never got to listen to Bollywood music as a kid but it's AMAZING I'm so glad it exists. Bhangra too.

Beaches very very pretty hills very very pretty honestly the nature is fucking beautiful if you can just quickly pretend humans don't exist, which again is true of this entire planet. Yeah. Okay I'm so fucking drunk.

Yeah lots of diversity which is very nice when the humans aren't screaming at each other about it but the rest of the time it's very nice

The garbage and sewer stories? yeah they're all true im sorry

Traffic rules more like traffic suggestions amirite

Well, we still have far better healthcare access than america. so. there is that.

If you speak English well you'll be mocked and isolated. If you speak English poorly you'll be mocked and isolated. Honestly, just be rich. That'll fix it all.

All the conservatives hate each other and don't realise they're the exact same but in like different flavours.

Oh yeah we have auto rickshaws. Look them up. They're so much better than cars I don't get motion sick as easily in them. But the drivers all hate you and never want to take you anywhere.

Eyyyyyyyyyy it's so fucking fun here *drinsk more alcohol* I am so fucking not looking forward to college.

Please someone crowdfund me out of here let's all go chill in Alpha Centauri I've heard it's nice this time of the year.

I will, however, miss the casual live cow pornos. A true highlight.

[I got this peer-reviewed by my friend in India's top law school, just in case, because I'm too drunk and generally dumb. They say I will not be killed. And they've been on Twitter so.]

Irrefutable legal proof y'all. I don't mean to offend anyone except bigots. Fuck you, bigots, if you're not offended then I've disappointed my community.

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

A moot of mine wanted me to compile this post and I had to oblige, since many people in the fandom decide to skip the comics for either story or artstyle reasons. Either way—

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Top things to know about Spider Socorro from high ground comics series (for those who haven’t read it but want to know the tea)

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Spider possesses a freakish amount of physical strength, and the comics make a point to show it on many occasions. To my memory, no one in said comics is put into situations where they are required to use brute force as often as him.

Pre-RDA’s return, he wore primarily red, orange and cyan on his clothes, jewellery and hair. After their return, he begins using the dull browns that we are used to.

Spider and Kiri have their own special slogan. While the whole family uses “Sullies stick together”, Kiri and Spidey use “War orphans stick together.”

Actually, the comics expand quite a bit on their bond. Kiri sees Spider as a brother, but not in a "friend-zoned" way or in "brothers in arms" way, no. She calls Spider a bother she never had, despite having two, and repeats time and time again that he is her real family. To her, Spider is quite literally blood-related, and I find it endlessly wholesome.

Jake says that in some ways, Spider is more of a Na’vi than he’ll ever be, but still has a deep-rooted anxiety that he’ll turn out like his father, though he keeps said anxiety well-hidden…most of the time.

Spider had a foster family at hell’s gate, the family of McCoskers, but he was heavily neglected by them, which ended up isolating him from humans even more. Nash Mckoser is especially annoying, as he rubs Spider’s insecurity about not belonging with Sullies into his face, and calls him ‘Miles’ instead of his chosen name. Father of the year everyone. 👏

Spider has a photo of his mother, Paz Socorro, taped to the ceiling of his bunk. He stares at it every night and takes the picture with him when escaping Hell’s gate.

Spider isn’t allowed to get close to the tree of souls during important ceremonies, like the council of clan leaders, as Neytiri doesn’t let him, so he watches it from a cliff on the edge of the clearing.

Spider apparently never looses his humour; not even when he’s almost out of oxygen and borderline choking. (“I’m so sorry Spider, we’ve gotta go around.” “Ha! You’re…killing…me *gasp* here!”)

But he can be serious when situation calls for it. When the kids were caught exploring the old battlefield, he takes responsibility for allowing himself and his siblings to go far from the village unsupervised, which led to minor injuries.

He then proceeds to be yelled at by Neytiri, as she exclaims that it’s "always his fault" and he "thinks he can wander wherever he wants — like all sky people". He has an outburst and they argue. This is about the only proper face-to-face direct interaction they have in all three volumes.

Neytiri regularly speaks ill of Spider, believing that he is trouble and will follow in Quaritch’s footsteps. The boy has always been fully aware of it, and builds a gradual resentment towards her for never seeing him as his own person.

When RDA return, Spider’s foster family wants to join them and leave the Omatikaya permanently. Spider is forced to go with them against his will, and Jake agrees with Nash, doing nothing to prevent it, perhaps influenced by the previously mentioned anxieties.

Spider gets later picked up by none other than his siblings (Kiri, Tuk and Lo’ak). They arrived to Hell’s gate in the night, determined to get him back, but Socorro’s foster father traps them in separate rooms, after which it was up to him to rescue them and dip.

Actively shields and protects Kiri as the group is running from the RDA tech on their heels.

Ends up on big bro duty when Lo’ak stays behind and protects both of his sisters 🥹 and he’s not playing

16. When reuniting, Jake asks Spider to go back to the humans AGAIN, and the kid has to remind him that a certain avatar is also half-human, and wasn’t even born on Pandora. That finally shuts him up.

17. When the flying ship the Sullies are in crashes above the oceans and Kiri drowns, Spider is the one to carry her back to surface. The size difference is insane.

18. Spider knows how to treat injuries. (he tends to the pilot of their crashed ship, who has a bleeding gash on her leg)

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@meenawrites @dirtytransmasc 🤭

[primoredial-jade]

heartbeat

“ my heart's on fire for your love. “

pairings: childe x gn!reader

cw: awkward / wholesome love confession confrontations, spoilers of liyue’s archon quest, reader is a medic, reader has hair long enough to put behind ear, reader resides in liyue, few mentions of light injuries and wariness of death, childe calls reader “doc’” 

a/n: i had finished this and left it in the drafts from over a year ago! this is an alternative story i wrote for a prompt didi ( @monocaelia ) sent me for a drabble i wrote called to be in love, and i guess i totally went a different route for that one. hope you enjoy this one as well!!!

“i don’t get paid nearly enough for this.” 

the harbinger has the audacity to chuckle under his breath, leaning further back into the examination table with one of his hands covering his eye. he keeps his voice light despite the apparent discomfort he’s in. 

“don’t worry, doc’. i could offer a little donation to show my gratitude, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

you can’t help the exasperated, heaving sigh that escapes your mouth. you knew his pockets ran deep, but you weren’t being serious. had it been anyone else, you would have kept quiet to maintain your professionalism, but with childe, this all went out the window. 

being a disciple of baizhu and gui at the renowned bubu pharmacy of liyue, you were prone to getting oddball patients every now and then. having to resuscitate a boy from nearly dying eating jueyun chili’s here, selling medicinal herbs to a woman that ate them raw on the spot there.

but truly, no one was as odd as childe. 

as a medical professional, you couldn’t just turn away a patient if they needed your help. the first time he turned up to the pharmacy with cuts and bruises all over in search of painkillers, you had an inkling who he was aligned with based off of the colors of his outfit alone, never mind the fact that he was obviously a foreigner. 

at that time, liyue harbor had only just survived osial’s attack, and word had gotten around that the fatui had much to do with it. while you remained as concise with your words as possible when handing him the bottle of painkillers, you could not repress the urge to make the passive-aggressive question that, 

“it really is a shame that some renowned factions, despite their cunning in their quest for world domination, do not have professional resident medics on standby. don’t you think?” 

you probably should have been killed on the spot for making such a crass comment. as his eyes rose to slowly meet your own, you found a deep sea torrent of both interest and fascination instead of anger. it had taken you aback, but you kept your chin held high.

needless to say, childe’s interest was piqued. 

he had begun to make it a habit to visit at least once every two days. granted, he really was injured or needed medicine when he dropped by, and you were definitely not happy about it; not only because it was him, but because you didn’t necessarily like to have regulars in this type of job. seeing the same patients, even if it was childe, getting hurt over and over again didn’t do your heart any favors.

sometimes, you would seriously consider if he got himself injured on purpose just to see you.

he initiated small talk during your examinations, and while at first you were curt and to the point, he managed to weasel his way past your walls. little by little, you were falling prone to his undeniable charm.

his stupid grin and quirk of his brow when you made an offhand comment made your pulse quicken, his dumb jokes that you didn’t understand unless you were snezhnayan still made you crack a smile, and the fact that he was always honest with you– you were beginning to tolerate him. maybe, more than you had anticipated.

it wasn’t like you were dumb. you could feel the longing looks he gave while you tended to his shallow wounds, his methods of finding cheeky ways to retain your attention for longer, the way he openly talked about his family. fatui don’t reveal personal information like that to just anybody.

today, it seemed as if he had gotten hit in the face with a dirtbomb from treasure hoarders, judging by the dirtied spots on his clothes. some of it must have gotten in his eye.

“i’m not even specialized in optometry,” you mumble, but he shrugs his shoulders innocently, disregarding your comment entirely.

“so long as you can help me see again, it doesn’t matter to me,” he answers easily.

“let me, then,” you urge in a quiet hush, peeling his hand away from his eye.

he has it still scrunched up in discomfort, and you can see the defensive tears from that eye covering the expanse of his face. while you know he isn’t necessarily crying voluntarily, it still brings a pang to your chest.

with the knowledge that he’s a capable fighter with a pain tolerance that is unrivaled, yet even just a little dirt can incapacitate him– it shocks you. at the end of the day, he was human, just like you.

and if he wasn’t so lucky the next time, it could even get in both of his eyes. who knows what would transpire on the battlefield next. he could… lose.

you’re clearly shaken up by your thoughts, and childe waves his free hand over your face, amusement clear on his expression.

“i didn’t come to one of the best pharmacy’s in teyvat to get spaced out on,” his tone softens, sounding more serious, “i’m fine, trust me. nothing to worry about, see?”

he gives a charming half-smile, and you resist the urge to pinch his cheek in retaliation.

“i’m going to flush it out. don’t force yourself to open it, but if you feel the discomfort easing up, just do it slowly,” you instruct, taking a bowl of clean water to his side.

childe, usually one to make more joking complaints, is uncharacteristically compliant with your demands. the room is quiet as he lets you pour the cool water over his eye, and slowly but surely, he opens it up again.

it’s red-rimmed and has seen better days, but you let out a hushed sigh of relief knowing that it’s still functioning fine from what you can tell so far.

“does it still hurt?” you ask, taking a towel and gently wiping away the wetness of the water on his face. it feels… oddly domestic, somehow.

childe shakes his head no, but squints up at you. “not really, but it’s still a little blurry.”

you hum, sliding closer to his face to get a better look, assessing it for a final time just to make sure.

this close, you can feel his breath fanning across your face. it distracts you, but not nearly as much as the endless pools of blue that are staring right into your own. it should unnerve you, the way they don’t sparkle like anyone else’s would, but it doesn’t.

his eyes flicker all across your face, and you feel heat rising up your neck.

once you nod in affirmation and pull away, it’s only then do you realize the flustered state that you left him in. he’s fidgeting, hands clenched into loose fists and ears pinking. you give him a funny look, unable to suppress a smirk.

“it looks fine to me, childe. thankfully it does not look like there will be lasting damage, but you should really see a qualified optometrist, so–“

“i have to tell you something.” he interrupts, looking bashful. you’re immediately on high alert. childe is never bashful.

“childe, i’m still on the clock,” you remind, already having some idea of what he might have to say.

“then consider this a… a patient telling you about their life, or something,” he finishes lamely, chuckling nervously. you can only chew on your lip in anticipation, blood pounding in your ears.

“well, i...” he takes a breath, “i think... well. i’m in love with a nurse,” ajax admits, posture suddenly straightening, confident. “i have been in love with them for a while now, actually. so… if i were to confess, how do you think they would react?” he purses his lips in anticipation at your response.

despite his unwavering voice, his red ears indicate how he really feels in this moment. he’s cute, you think. you briefly hold eye contact, smirking when he is the one to break it. it brings you a sick sense of pride to see such a powerful man brought to his knees from something like this.

he looks definitively taken aback at the airy chuckle you give, responding, “ah, i see.”

now he is really confused. “i– what?” he sputters, eyes darting over your face to get a read on you. 

the quirk in your brow, the knowing smile you have on your face. really, looking at how beautiful you look in this moment only confirms his feelings. 

the cogs in his brain are turning every which way, until finally, it clicks. he brings up a hand to his forehead, letting out a low grumble of embarrassment. with zero shame, he pulls you toward him by your wrist and leans his head against your shoulder. allowing him this brief moment of reprieve, you bring up a hand to card through his hair.

“you knew?” he asks, clearly ashamed at his lack of finesse. you snort, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes.

“well, you haven’t exactly been discreet…” 

he can only bury his head into your shoulder again, completely flushed.

“okay, well,” his breath tickles your skin as you give another chuckle, “i’ll ask again. how do you think this nurse would react?”

pulling completely away from him, you point up at the clock. he huffs, unhappy with your consistency to uphold professionalism.

“maybe you should ask this nurse in another hour after their shift is over.”

childe rolls his eyes. “alright, alright. then i hope this nurse will be happy to meet me at wanmin’s restaurant with their answer– i will only be expecting good things.” 

he laughs the entire way you shoo him out, and only eases up to lean down and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“i’ll see you soon, doc’.”