#no actually I do have one [1] mutual who I think?? is pretty similar to me in what they like/tolerate

[benetnvsch]

Blocking ppl both makes me feel safer and yet skyrockets my paranoia

[jolapeno]

5. pepper red

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter five of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 2.5k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] SMUT. p in v. dirty talk/mutual appreciation. minor competency. frankie is pretty, thick and sexy. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. you wear a date outfit but not specified. no use of y/n. an: if this was a sitcom episode, it wouldn't be allowed to be aired and also, i passed my exam, wahoo.

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For some reason, it doesn’t surprise you that his bedroom is forest green. Or, that it’s accented by strong whites and similar dark woods as the living room. All earthy tones, him.

In the same way, it doesn’t surprise you that his skin is soft, all smooth as your fingers brush over his skin when you lift his t-shirt from his frame.

Because he looks as good as he did in those videos you’d watched over and over. Getting the chance to see if the silver scars were tricks of the light or stories he hadn’t shared. Your fingers discovered it was the latter.

“God, you look good, Frankie.”

He snorts, before sliding a thumb under your jaw, forcing you to confront big, doe brown eyes. Ones that you’d fall into if you could, especially as they pause, stare from one eye to the next, likely to see if there’s a lie there—a slither of untruth to your confession.

There isn’t.

A thing you ensure sits at the forefront, a silent plea for him to believe you. You suppose he must do when his mouth slides back over yours. Tongue pressing at your lower lip, seeking entry that you happily allow.

You lose yourself in it, him. How good it feels to have his lips on yours again. To have the added feel of purposeful and intentional fingers taking their sweet time to slide your outfit from you.

Because his hands trail over as much as they can. Doing so as though he’s busy carving a memory of you in his mind, making you real. A thing you won’t admit you’re doing too, too busy committing the way he feels, as you run your hands across his shoulders. Feel the expanse of them, the width, wondering—as his tongue swirls a shape on your neck—if yoga will really help you fit his broadness between your thighs.

Frankie must notice you’re drifting, thinking, because his mouth finds yours. A thing which cements you to the moment. Kissing you slowly, deliberately—a hint of mint amongst the drink he’d provided and you smirk, smiling against him.

Because he’s eaten a TicTac.

It mixes, fighting to refresh as though you hadn’t eaten and consumed the same fast food. But the act, the way his lips slide against yours, makes that joke melt as quickly as it appeared, because he’s completing his mission: the one to leave you breathless.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you choose to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Tongue sliding back behind his teeth as a soft moan escapes him; swallowed by your own as his hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. The feel of him, hard and ready against you sends a thrill of anticipation darting through you.

It’s easy, simple, to allow the rhythm of your bodies to become a language all of its own. A two-way conversation being sketched out and written in sighs and moans, punctuated by the occasional gasp. A symphony of desire.

And then you make things shift. Change the tempo when your hand descends between the two of you. Feeling him, grasping his cock, taking note of the way he inhales at the feel of your fingers. For a moment, his mouth hovers over yours—both open, just breathing. His palms flat to your side—as you hold him, feel his cock twitch in your hand. Moving, slowly—almost torturously, but it’s actually with precision.

He’s so hard, thick. Your fingers tighten their hold, wrist moving more, palm sliding up and down as you taste the way he says fuck.

“Bed,” he groans, almost through gritted teeth.

Smirking, you bite his lower lip. Light. Not piercing or enough to leave an indent. “In a minute.”

And it leaves his tongue again. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, baby.

All you can think about is how good he sounds, looks—feels. His head tipped back, neck elongated—lips parting as each expletive lasts longer than the four letters that make it up. It’s cliché to say it’s never been like this, but a truth that personal isn’t always easy to confess.

“Not waited to do this right with you to come before you have, Rainy.”

His fingers, those calloused ones attached to those hard-working hands, wrap around your wrist. Light, but determined.

“Oh, Butterscotch,” you tease, mouth close to his. “You been thinking about this?”

He smirks, just as he clasps his other hand to your side—tugging, yanking you flush. Feeling him, all of him, as you’re guided, moved, backs of your legs meeting the well-made bed you’re about to mess up and ruin.

“Since the moment I heard you laugh.”

Your body falls back, the sheets cool, smooth, pressing against your bare spine, before his body comes up—caging you. Nudging your thighs apart with his knee.

“Just kept thinking, bet you make other pretty noises too.”

Lips parting, you knot your fingers in the curls at the base of his neck, letting his lips slide into his cheek. That dimple appearing. The one which tries to hide under wiry hair and shyness, but is deeper than ever now, nothing held back or hidden.

And you can’t help but watch, completely transfixed by the light from the lamp he'd flicked on. The one lighting up his face, making him appear golden, ethereal. Able to discern each of the shades that make up his eyes, the flecks within them, the different browns that make a colour you dream and think of constantly, but you’re not sure has any other name than Frankie.

“Can I touch you, baby?”

You find you can only nod.

Words failing, falling, simply replaced by a gasp as he slides them between your partly spread thighs—feeling it, how wet you are. How slick and desperate you are to have him. A mess, all for him, by him. It likely ruined the underwear you’d left on his floor and dampened the sheets under you.

“This all for me?”

The rasp of his voice only makes you ache more for him. Hips desperate to shift so his fingers do more than trace and tease, but plunge and curl.

“Yes,” you moan.

It's like he knows you. A thought that bubbles and bursts when your fingers grasp at his sheets, his two fingers feel so much different than your own; Than the toys you own that are shoved in protective bags inside your sock drawer. His seek, aiming to find that spot inside you, stretches you, making your toes curl and your knuckles ache from how tight they hold the sheets.

And he’s talking. A sea of things that you half-catch and miss the rest. That you look good, feel good, that he wants to watch you come apart before he even thinks about giving you his cock.

Words almost leave your mouth, but you’re barely present.

More electric than person; more liquid than solid. So fucking close already you can feel the tremors in your thighs from not rutting yourself against his hand when the base of his palm presses flat to your swollen nerves.

“Fuck, Frankie—”

“Do you like it when I talk, baby?” his voice becomes an anchor. Keeping you here, not allowing you to float too far as you nod, crinkled pillows sounding as you do. “I think you do. I think you like hearing how hard you make me, how much I think about you in this bedroom, in the shower—at work—“

You’re arching. Barely clinging to the present as your feet flatten to root you, to grip to reality as your ears ring and pleasure does more thrum, but builds and builds—all compressing, hot, closer to liquid fire.

“—look at me, baby.”

And you do.

Lids flipping open as you’re met with nothing but desire, lust and need. It pushes you, suddenly freefalling. Your throat aching, scratched with the syllables of his name as you dig fingers into his curls and curl your body as much against him as possible as he works you through it. Him coaxing, mouth on your collarbone as he licks and lathes as you moan, and pant.

It’s then you look at him again.

Bathed in a sandy glow, sweat peppered on his chest, glinting and glittering as you find his eyes on you, taking you in as you catch your breath.

He’s so handsome, beautiful. In a way that ruined you before, that made you think of nothing but him, which now devastates you—in a way you only want him to do over and over.

It’s easier to kiss him than say it.

To trace the words over his mouth as he hums, as the vibration tickles across your lips before you’re manoeuvring him. Only paused in doing so as he dragged his lips down your neck, the sound of a drawer opening, closing, hearing a wrapper crinkle.

It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment when your hand snatches it from him, placing it between your teeth, trying as they do so easily in movies to lightly rip it over with your teeth. You struggle. Suddenly nervous about piercing it, mind in overdrive because what—

"Easy, baby. I've got it," he growls into your ear, taking it from you, opening it more with ease than you'd managed.

And it makes you crash your mouth back to his. Etching more things to his mouth, smudging them over his tongue. How much you want this, want him.

It’s why you’re grateful that Frankie moves with ease until he’s on his back and you’re on top of him. A hand finds a home on your back, once the empty wrapper is discarded, fingers spreading out, flowing warmth into your bones. Then the other begins aiding, lining himself up as the head presses against your opening.

When you take as much of him as you can, fingers soothing your hip at the stretch, the hiss drawn from your lips at the light sting, before your forehead meets his. It's a moment before you move again. His words are there, guiding, before the room is flooded with a moan that's unearthed from your soul. One that is almost smothered in his own, a groan that makes heat flood your ears and a smile grace your mouth.

“So good for me, feel so good—“

“Can take more,” you interrupt, breathless. Slowly moving again, lifting up before sliding back down his cock—walls welcoming him, stretching, taking him to the hilt. “Y’feel good, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you roll your hips slowly, torturously if anything. Still sensitive. Little gasps escape as you begin to find a rhythm, one that makes his teeth bite down on his lip.

Taking his hand, pulling it to your breast, wrapping around it as he cups it—as his groan stains the air between the two of you—you draw an O with your hips, feel that heat in your stomach.

“I like your hands, Frankie.”

A line appears, deep between his two brows. A look of shock, surprise—awe—spreads over his face like a sunny day suddenly appearing in a storm. Before, it’s slipping away, hiding, wriggling away to some depth of him you wish to call back.

“I like your voice, your smile—fuck, oh my god—and-and I like your thighs, and your…”

You continue, babbling, rambling as his hands find your hips, steadying, moving you, thrusting up into you as little spots appear in your vision, as your own voice becomes distant and easily forgettable.

But the look on his face is anything but the latter.

He’s spellbound, utterly captivated—appearing as though if his mind was a camera, he’d have filled up several memory cards with what he was trying to capture.

And it feels good.

A wanting so bad that it almost makes you snap there and then, more so as the head of his cock kisses that part of you once again, a whine coated in both a gasp and a moan—

“Put your hands on the headboard, baby.”

And you do, assisted by him moving you with him sheathed inside of you before palm after palm is placed. The fabric underneath is soft, almost like velvet—leaving marks of your touch behind in its wake as you feel his mouth on the underside of your breast.

“You look good like this,” he continues, mouth pressing kisses to your skin, “But then, you always do.”

Your eyes snap to his, finding nothing but hunger paddling in brown. You don't fight the heat that flares out to the last few places pleasure hasn’t touched. Where only compliments and adoration can kiss and warm.

Then he says your name.

Not baby, not Rainy, but the one you’d handed him in that paint aisle and set yourself on a course for unravelling. A thing you don’t regret, but rather wish had happened sooner.

Your name rasped in that deep way that echoes through the room long after the last letter is spoken, digging deep into your soul as it unlocks something. It makes every sound amplified; the rustle of sheets, the creak of the bed, the sound of skin meeting skin.

“Let me hear you, baby,” cuts through, slicing,

And you do.

Your whine shifts into a sob, almost choking on it as it snaps—as pleasure rips through you and drowns you in waves. There’s nothing but white, a much louder ringer, and the distant knowledge that you’re spraying his name across the room as your hips stutter and he thrusts up into you, twitching, fucking breathless from it.

His hands, large and holding tight, keep you rooted—slowly hearing him groaning, grunting, low hisses of your name and how good you feel tight around his cock.

His fingers dig into your skin when he follows you. When his eyes clench, and his mouth parts around your name, lighting it up, making it seem as special as he makes you feel.

You collapse fully against him, thighs still shaking, little tremors in your muscles as your fingers brush back his damp curls from his forehead. A smile easy to find, to let slide over your mouth as you kiss him.

The light from the lamp drapes over you—still sticky, a mess between your thighs as you kiss him again, bodies flush. More gentle, a light lick across his bottom lip as you feel him grin, hands roaming over your body, tracing the curve of your waist, the slope of your back

He murmurs your name, palm sliding up your cheek, tip of his nose brushing against yours. “Should clean you up.”

“Hmm…”

His thumb swipes, hearing him swallow as your eyes open and find his already on you. “Don’t go.”

"To clean up?"

"Tonight."

Biting your lip, you try to fight it—less a smile and more a grin. “Okay. I won’t.”

And his lips capture yours once more. A thing you relax into—easily. Just like you keep finding so effortless to do with him.

next chapter ->

[qqueenofhades]

Man, the Russia/Ukraine war has led to a lot of terrible takes from far leftists. I have a mutual from Brazil, a self identified socialist, who is convinced that Ukraine is full of nazis. While they don't support Russia, they questioned why they have to be "pro-Ukraine" or "pro-Russia". They call Ukraine a "nazi hole" but call Russia merely "fascist". Am I wrong in thinking that they've been influenced by Russian propaganda? I know Ukraine does have a nazi/far right problem, but so does the US? And most European countries? idk they strongly hate the US/US government too, and it seems to create some kind of brainrot. at least they don't blindly support China or Russia like tankies do (nor identify with them), but it's still frustrating to take a neutral position on a pretty black and white situation.

I don't want to confront them 1) cause I'm not the type to argue over serious things like this and this may break our long friendship and 2) I'm not super educated on the nazi situation in Ukraine.

Anyway thank you for letting me rant in your inbox.

Yes, Russia has specifically focused its propaganda efforts on Latin America, Africa, and other regions that HAVE suffered from Western/European/American imperialism and are thus predisposed to take the worst view of them/believe that this situation is their fault somehow. This is similar to what the USSR did in newly postcolonial Africa in the 1960s and 1970s, positing themselves as offering the shared hand of communist brotherhood from Western oppressors. Because of more recent events like the invasion of Iraq, which was fully as unjustified as the invasion of Ukraine, Russian propagandists and their eager tankie/leftist foot soldiers have also got a lot of mileage out of "whataboutism." This is likewise an old Soviet propaganda technique designed to deflect any criticism of the actual situation by disingenuously asking "what about this other one!!!"

Likewise, the idea that Ukraine has a "Nazi problem" is itself propaganda. In the last election, far-right/Nazi-identified parties won barely 2% of the vote and AFAIK, no seats at all in the Verkhovna Rada (Ukrainian parliament). This is far lower than the nearly half of the USA voting for the far-right/Nazi-sympathetic Republican Party, and as noted, the far right elements in the UK and Europe. The idea that Ukraine is "full of Nazis" (with a Jewish president who just celebrated iftar with the Ukrainian Muslims/Crimean Tatars during Ramadan and instituted observance of Muslim holidays nationwide, very Nazi of him) is a line used by Russian propagandists to "justify" their attack and appeal to national memories of the Great Patriotic War (World War II) and the struggle against the Nazis, which is the central cultural grievance/memory in modern Russia. The Putin regime has referred to anyone they don't like, but especially the Ukrainians, as "Nazis" for a long time now, so it's supposedly their holy duty to kill them/commit ethnic cleansing/forcibly reunite the "fraternal" people of "Little Russia," as Ukraine has been called since the 17th century, with "Great Russia." And yeah, no.

Because the West and Europe has been pretty solidly on Ukraine's side, Russia has therefore cultivated countries like China, India, Brazil, etc, who have all suffered from Western interference and are looking to move into the first rank of global superpowers. This is, as noted, similar to the competing systems of influence built during the Cold War, but it also relies on much deeper Russian grievances that go back to the medieval era. Anybody who knows a thing about actual Russian history would therefore know that every single word it says about the Ukraine situation is a lie, but because that lie is useful for many other countries and fits into their own understanding of themselves, it is easy to repeat and act like it's a so-called superior moral position. This is also why US/American tankies so eagerly lap up Russian propaganda, because it plays into their moral sense of themselves as far better than the rest of the West and "righteously" discovering that the West is responsible for all the evil in the world etc etc. While non-Westerners are just helpless misunderstood puppets with no real agency or ability to make complex choices. This totally makes sense!!!

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Alone With You (William Afton x Fem! Reader) FLUFF - Part 1

Hello hello! So, uh, this was supposed to be a short one shot. It is now... not... that-- Anyways! I have missed writing for this big beautiful man. Any warnings will be labeled throughout each part. So enjoy Will laying it on thick, Henry trying his best to be a wingman, and a reader who is maybe just a little too obsessed with how huge Will is compared to them, but I'll let you be the judge of that. Let me know what you think, I love getting comments! If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: CW! scene with aggressive man, threats of violence, other than that tooth rotting fluff, Boss! Will, age gap (Reader is in her late 20's, Will is in his early 50's), AU where Will isn't a murderer, mutual pining, flirting, dad jokes, Will being his usual awkward adorable self, Home Sweet Home adjacent, a love letter to the wonderful story "Bunny Ears" by @yellowbunnydreams that falls into a very similar vein as this, I think that's everything, if I missed any let me know!

You can find my Masterlist here! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

Word Count: 7,000

Part 2

You hummed quietly along to the song that crackled over the radio in the pizzeria, laughing to yourself as you pulled out some of the noodle ball yo-yo’s from the box, shaking them slightly to watch their rubbery tendrils dance. “These things are so dumb looking.” You chuckle before dropping them into their respective prize box. You perked up slightly at the sound of your name being spoken behind you. You turned to find one of the co-owners standing on the other side of the counter. “Good morning Mr. Afton.” You greet him with a bright smile. You noticed that his usual stoic expression cracked slightly, offering you a small smile of his own.

“Good morning.” He can’t help but breathe out a laugh over how bubbly you were so early, the restaurant hadn’t even opened yet and you were already as warm and personable as ever. “Would you like any help over here? I know we got a pretty big restock in.” You glanced at the pile of boxes at your side that nearly came up to your shoulder.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” You grimace slightly as your attention turns back to him.

“Not at all, happy to help.” He carefully cuffs the sleeves of his dark purple dress shirt. You struggle to keep your eyes off of his strong forearms, the thin silver scars that littered his tan skin almost seemed to glow under the coarse dark hair that littered his arms that had always captivated you. You managed to tear your eyes away from him the moment he finished the task. “Alright,” he claps his hands together, “let's get this show on the road.” Despite his reputation, you always found that it was actually rather comfortable to be working so closely with Mr. Afton. Your boss was known for being a bit of a recluse. He never really left parts and services unless he and the other owner, Mr. Emily, were doing one of their walks in the Spring Bonnie and Fredbear suits. You remember when you first started working at Freddy’s that the other employees would always tell you how terrified they were of Mr. Afton. But, out of every conversation you have had with him, he’s been nothing but kind towards you. You let out a surprised squeak as he bumps into you slightly. “I am so sorry.” He rushes to apologize, you giggle at his worried expression.

“It’s okay Mr. Afton. I’m a lot tougher than I look, I promise.” You smile jokingly, flexing your arm. He chuckles, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m sure you are, rabbit.” He mutters barely loud enough for you to hear, you almost missed the nickname he had slipped onto the end. You smiled softly, turning back to your work as your cheeks grew warm.

“Oh perfect, you’re both here!” You turned to find Mr. Emily had walked up to the prize counter. He smiles warmly at you, “good morning honey, how are you?”

“I’m good Mr. Emily, almost done with the prize counter thanks to Mr. Afton.” You notice out of the corner of your eye how the taller man awkwardly stuffs his hands into his pockets, his attention dropping to the floor.

“Good, I’m glad Will was able to help. Jared was supposed to have done this last night, I’ll have to talk to have a word with him. I’m sorry you ended up having to take care of this.” He apologizes, his expression quickly brightening again as he remembered why he was there to begin with. “Will, I put your sweatshirts in your office. And for you, my dear,” He hands over the neatly folded purple fabric. “The rest of yours are in my office, but this is the one you asked if I could have custom ordered for you, I figured you’d want to wear that one first.” He chuckles, his eyes darting in between you and his business partner. You swallowed thickly, knowing he was expecting you to put it on.

“Custom order, huh?” Mr. Afton chimes in before his attention turns to you. “You must be pretty special, he won’t even let me custom order things.” He chuckles.

“Oh, I think you’ll like this design Will, I had one made up for you as well.” Mr. Emily practically sings. Your face felt like it was on fire, you could feel your palms starting to sweat as you gripped on tightly to the material. You timidly unfolded it before pulling it over your head. The soft fabric blanketed your body, you took a moment to unzip the short ¼ zipper to fold over the collar of the sweatshirt. You pushed up the sleeves to your elbows, finally catching sight of the bright yellow Spring Bonnie that stood out sharply against the dark purple background. You reluctantly let your eyes trail back up to your bosses. Mr. Emily stood with a proud smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest as he marveled at his work. Mr. Afton stared at the emblem on the sweatshirt with a shocked expression, his jaw hanging open until he realized you were looking. He quickly snapped it shut, straightening himself up as he tried to regain his composure.

“Spring Bonnie, huh?” He asks before clearing his throat, his voice cracking slightly as he pushes the question out.

You look away timidly, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the black and white checkered floor. “Yeah, he’s always been my favorite, sir.” You admit bashfully. It took him a moment to respond, the silence that hung thick in the air making your heart pound in your chest.

“Well, you made a great request, it looks great on you.” Your gaze snaps back up to him, his eyes widening slightly as he realizes what he had just said. He doesn’t say another word, he simply turns on his heels and power walks towards the back of the restaurant, practically crashing through the door that led to parts and services. Mr. Emily shook his head, blinking in confusion before turning back to you.

“We have a party at noon, I’d like you to come help with Fredbear and Spring Bonnie once Meredith gets here.” You look nervously at the door to parts and services and then back to your boss.

“Yes sir, um, did I say something to upset Mr. Afton?” You ask timidly.

Mr. Emily chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I think he's flattered that Spring Bonnie is your favorite. He just doesn't know how to take a compliment.” He teases his friend.

“Okay,” you let out a small laugh yourself, shaking your head slightly. “Mer should be here around eleven, I'll head back to your office around then.”

“Sounds good to me, thank you in advance.” He smiles warmly before hurrying off. 

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

William collapsed into his chair with an aggravated groan. “Goddamn am I out of practice.” He shakes his head. “It looks great on you.” He repeats himself in a mocking tone. “Get a fucking grip, Will.” Henry bursts into the room, looking at Will with an expression of pure disbelief.

“What in the faz-fuck was that?” He kicks the door shut behind him. “You don’t just tell the girl she looks nice and run off.”

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” He snaps through gritted teeth. “I’m sure she doesn’t want some creepy old man flirting with her.”

“Will, you’re the farthest thing from a creepy old man.” His friend reassures him with a firm nod. “You’re one of those… what are the young people calling them now… a DILF?”

“A what?” William laughs loudly.

“A DILF, you know, a dad I’d like to- whatever, it’s not important. What is important is we need to fix whatever the hell just happened there.” Henry exclaims as he points dramatically outside. “You used to be the biggest flirt I knew in college, what the hell happened?”

“I got married is what happened.” Will responds gruffly. “The second I put a ring on that woman’s finger, any sort of spark we had was gone.” He grumbles. “I haven’t flirted with anyone in twenty odd years.”

“Well we need to get you up to speed my friend.” Henry chuckles, clapping the taller man on the shoulder.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

The first hour or so of your shift was spent running the prize counter, excited groups of kids running up to the plexiglass case and asking how much for whichever particular prize had caught their eye.

“Sorry I'm late, traffic was a nightmare at the center.” Meredith huffs as she hurriedly pulls on her newly appointed sweatshirt. “Aw, you got a Spring Bonnie one, that's cute.” She smiles.

“Apparently, Mr. Emily took it upon himself to get me and Mr. Afton matching ones.” You chuckle. “Also, I'm scheduled for a walk in an hour, so I'll be back.” You hurriedly excuse herself before she has a chance to ask any questions. The silence that surrounds you as the door to the main pizzeria shuts is all consuming. You took a deep breath, it was the first time it had been quiet since you had arrived at work. You stretched, rolling your shoulders back before starting down the hallway. You had done this job plenty of times, it was honestly one of the best parts of your week. You knocked hesitantly on the door to parts and services, listening for the soft ‘come in’ from Mr. Afton inside. He says your name softly, a smile lacing its way across his lips.

“Perfect timing, I was just about to get into costume.” He groans as he stands, carefully undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. You had seen him go through this process dozens of times, but even now it still amazes you to watch him get into the suit. Something so expertly crafted by his own hands, as dangerous as it was beautiful, if the slightest thing were to go wrong that suit held the potential to kill him where he stood. “You mind giving me a hand?” He asks with a charming smile. You nod, hurrying to his side. He inserts a turnkey into Spring Bonnie’s torso, pulling the internal supports out of the way in order for his body to fit inside. Your eyes burned into the section of the suit you were staring at. In the brief glance you had allowed yourself to have, you had noticed how his muscles almost seemed to glow with the thin sheen of sweat that had formed from working on animatronics all day. The black tank top that stretched tightly across his toned chest left no room for speculation about just how strong Mr. Afton was. He takes hold of your hand, swapping it out for his on the key. “Hold it tight, okay?” He instructs gently. You nod, trailing his movements as he picks up the torso and slips it over his head. He places his hand loosely over yours. “I got it rabbit, you can slip your hand out.” He says quietly, focusing intensely on the internal supports. You carefully do as he asks, earning a hushed “beautiful” from him. He makes sure that everything is secured in place before pulling out the key, and slowly releasing the breath he had been holding. “So far so good.” He chuckles. You repeat the same process with the legs and arms, leaving him fully suited up minus the yellow rabbit’s head.

“Your bowtie’s a little crooked.” You point out with a bashful smile. “Mind if I straighten it out?”

“Not at all.” You take a step closer to him, running your fingers over the soft purple fabric. You carefully adjust the bowtie back into its proper position.

“There, now Spring Bonnie will look as handsome as possible.” You giggle, your cheeks growing warm as he shoots you a playful smile in response. You quickly pull your hands away from him as Mr. Emily walks in the room. He chat’s happily with you and Mr. Afton as he expertly gets himself into his own suit.

“It should be a relatively easy walk, just take it slow, there are a lot of kids out there at the moment.” Mr. Emily explains.

“Just another Thursday, Henry.” Mr. Afton responds with a chuckle. “You should have a pretty easy time, but you’re already an expert at this as it is.” He offers you a lopsided smile that you can’t help but return. He glances up at the clock. “Well, it’s showtime boys and girls.” He grabs the mascot head from his workbench, quickly slipping it over his head. Mr. Emily copied his actions, looking in the mirror by the door to make sure Fredbear’s hat was on correctly before following you out into the hallway. You knew from experience that Mr. Afton had a harder time seeing out of the suit than Mr. Emily, having to remove his glasses before putting the costume on. You reached back, allowing your hand to bump into the fingers of the Spring Bonnie costume, offering to lead Mr. Afton to the picture spot so he wouldn’t have to worry about stumbling. He allows his hand to engulf yours, following closely behind you as you wound your way expertly through the excited groups of kids. You brought them to a well lit corner of the restaurant that was specifically set up for pictures. You step in front of both of them as they step into their spots.

“Mr. Fredbear, Mr. Spring Bonnie, let me know if you need anything.” You smile warmly at the pair before heading off to interact with the crowd that had formed around the performers. For the most part your day went on like normal, you kept the hoard of kids and parents alike organized enough to keep your bosses from getting overwhelmed by all the people wanting pictures or just to meet their favorite anthropomorphic animal friend. That was until you noticed one little girl who appeared to be hiding off to the side. She clutched a yellow rabbit plush to her chest, nervously shuffling her feet as she watched the rest of the kids run up excitedly to the mascots. You looked around to find no one appeared to be waiting with her, so you decided to see if you could help. You approach the girl with a friendly smile and a wave. “I noticed you're looking a bit down friend, is everything okay?” She looks between you and the crowd behind you.

“I want to go say hi to Spring Bonnie but I'm scared.” She admits in a tiny, shaky voice.

“Well, that’s definitely no fun. Why don't you tell me what's scaring you, maybe I can help.” You offer kindly.

“There's just a lot of big kids, and Spring Bonnie looks a lot bigger than he does in the pictures too.” You noticed how she absentmindedly tugged at one of the rabbits ears in an attempt to comfort herself.

“Can I let you in on a big secret?” You lower your voice to just above a whisper, making the girl lean in to listen with wide, excited eyes. “I happen to be best friends with Spring Bonnie and Fredbear.” You nod in response to the shocked gasp she let out. You held out your hand, introducing yourself to the girl, her black pigtails bouncing in time with her growing excitement.

“My name’s Addie.” She responds with a gapped tooth smile.

“Well, Miss Addie, since we're friends, why don't I take you to meet my other friend Spring Bonnie so you can say hi!” She nods, looking at the crowd with some remaining apprehension. “Still a lot of scary big kids, huh?” She hurriedly responds, proving you right. “I'll tell you what, if you hold my hand, I promise no one will bother you.” She timidly takes your hand, letting you guide her in the direction of Spring Bonnie and Fredbear. She clung to your leg as you approached the large golden rabbit's side. “Excuse me Mr. Spring Bonnie.” You couldn't help the smile that passed over your lips as you noticed the man inside the suit straighten up at the sound of your voice. “My friend Addie is very excited to meet you, but she's a little nervous.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, like a dog hearing an unfamiliar sound. He dramatically looks around for someone the same height as you before letting his gaze drop a little lower, making a small startled movement when his eyes land on the girl. You feel her grip tighten on your hand, inching herself further behind you. “Still a little too scary up close, huh?” You kneel down beside her, bringing yourself closer to his height. “I promise, Spring Bonnie wouldn't hurt a fly, you don't have to be scared of him.” You try to reassure her

“How do you know?” She asks timidly.

“Here, I'll show you he's not so scary.” You give her a comforting smile, softly squeezing her hand in reassurance before standing back up. You walked up to the large yellow rabbit, giving him a small, bashful smile before pushing yourself up onto your toes and pressing a quick peck to the tip of the suit's nose. “See, he's not scary at all.” Seeing the fact you managed to get face to face with the monster bunny seemed to put Addie’s nerves at ease. You could feel Mr. Afton’s gaze burning into the side of your face before his attention was pulled away by the little girl. She bravely approaches him, reaching out to tap a finger against his arm.

“Excuse me, Spring Bonnie.” She squeaks before pulling a folded up picture out of the chest pocket of her bright blue overalls. “I made you a drawing.” Spring Bonnie excitedly motions to the drawing, passing it off to you as he knelt down in front of her. He opens his arms signaling he was asking for a hug but he waited for Addie to make the first move. She nervously looks up at you for guidance, you give her a reassuring nod, silently signaling that it was okay. She slots herself into his arm, giving the suit a tight squeeze with her little arms. You unfold the drawing for Spring Bonnie to look at, your smaller, ungloved fingers a much better fit for the task. You hand it over to him, smiling as you watch the interaction of him silently fawning over her masterpiece that she made just for him, making Addie giggle. The drawing depicted Addie holding onto Spring Bonnie's hand, best friends scrawled across the bottom of the page in blocky purple letters.

“Addie, there you are!” You turn quickly to see a very worried looking mother making her way towards you. “I told you I'd come see Spring Bonnie with you honey, you didn't have to run off.” She chuckles, kneeling down as her daughter crashes into her arms. “See? I told you he wasn't going to be scary.”

“My new friend was a big help.” She beams up at you.

“Miss Addie was very brave. Thank you for coming to say hello to Mr. Spring Bonnie.” She runs up and gives the rabbit one last tight hug around his leg before heading off with her mother. You glanced up at the clock, realizing the scheduled 30 minutes was up you collected the two men and dismissed them to the back without much of a fuss. “Would you like any help Mr. Emily?” You ask as you take the Fredbear head from him, setting it gently on the workbench.

“I should be all set, Will might like your help though.” He nods in his co owner's direction. You noticed him struggling to take off the head, the thick, fabric fingers making it difficult for his hands to properly articulate.

“Would you like some help, Mr. Afton?” You ask sweetly.

“Please, these stupid gloves make it impossible to hold onto anything.” He chuckles. You carefully take hold of the mask, your body pressing into the Spring Bonnie suits plush stomach as you struggle to accommodate for your boss's massive stature. You push the head up enough for him to get a proper hold on it in order for it to be removed. He blinked a couple times as he left the dark confines of the head, continuing to squint as his eyes adjusted to the light. A soft smile finds its way to your lips as you pick up his glasses off of his work bench, unfolding the stems and presenting them neatly to him. His eyes drop to the gold wire frames, looking back at you with a charming lopsided smile that makes your heart pound. “Thank you rabbit.” He quickly pulls off one of his gloves to accept the item. Running his finger through his hair in an attempt to put back the sweaty tendrils that had fallen and stuck to his forehead. As he takes them from you he leans in slightly to whisper, “you know, if you wanted a kiss from Spring Bonnie you should've just asked.” Your cheeks grew warm, you stumble slightly over a toolbox on the floor, the loud clattering catching Mr. Emily’s attention.

“Well don't kill the poor girl.” He rushes to your side in order to steady you. “Honestly Will, the amount of times I've told you about leaving your tools around.” He continues to fuss over you for a moment, you reassured him you were just a bit startled by the noise. Your eyes met Mr. Afton’s, a playful glimmer in his gaze as he slowly trailed over your form. He shakes his head slightly, massaging the bridge of his nose under his glasses before quickly turning away. 

“I should probably get back to the floor.” You state softly, slowly backing up towards the door. You pause when Mr. Afton calls your name.

“Thanks for all the help today.” The corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile.

“Happy to help.” You noticed him pause briefly, it registering in his mind how he had said something similar in regards to your thanks earlier. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, letting your gaze linger on him for a bit longer than necessary before slipping out into the hallway.

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“She's not going to want some creepy old man flirting with her.” Henry mocks Will’s statement from earlier. “I don't know Will, she seems pretty sweet on you already.” Will didn't miss the mischievous smirk that quickly passed over his friend's features.

“Henry, don't you fucking dare.” He points an accusatory finger at him. “The last thing I need is for you getting your hands involved in my love life.” He grumbles.

Henry turns to Will, giving him an incredulous look. “Did we- did we witness the same attempt at you flirting earlier?”

“I'm rusty!” He snaps in response.

“Rusty isn't the word for it, my friend.” Henry chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans up against one of the workbenches along the wall. “I've been in a happy, loving marriage for almost thirty years, just saying.” He raises his hands in front of him innocently. Will just stares blankly back at him, waiting for Henry to whip out some punchline to prove he was fucking with him. He couldn't seriously be suggesting that he should ask you on a date. But he knew that look in Henry’s eyes, the pair had been best friends nearly their entire lives, it would be a hard detail to miss. Henry wasn't just serious about helping him flirt with you, he was excited, and an excitable Henry Emily is something Will adamantly tried to avoid. Henry sighs, seeing Will’s apprehension wasn't wavering in the slightest. “Listen, think what you want. You're too old to get back in the game, she's too young for you, whatever. But, Will, I wished you noticed how her eyes sparkle when she looks at you. I think that would give you all the confidence you need.” He jumps as his pager goes off, quickly pulling it from his belt. “Gotta run, problem at the front. Think on it for a while, okay?” Will cringes slightly as Henry slams the door behind him.

“Her eyes sparkle when she looks at me, huh?” Will chuckles, running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Henry, I think you're just a hopeless romantic.”

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Your fists shook from their position clenched at your side. Leaving parts and services behind you walked out onto the main floor only to find one of the new hostesses getting screamed at by an upset patron. You immediately rushed over to help, placing yourself in between the terrified teenager and the middle aged man who needed to learn some manners. You didn't even get through asking what the problem was before all his anger was directed at you. Apparently, the issue was that his beer had been knocked over by one of the dozens of children that raced around the establishment, and from the smell coming off of him you could tell he probably should've been cut off a while ago. “I expect to be compensated for the entire fucking visit. I am absolutely appalled at the state this place is in! Where's your manager, both of you need to be fucking fired for how poorly you treat customers.” At the threat of losing her job the hostess you had rescued started to cry. “See? They have fucking children running this place, ridiculous.”

“Sir, this conversation doesn't involve her anymore, I would appreciate it if you left her out of it.” Despite trying to keep your voice calm you couldn't hide the definitive snap of your anger bubbling up. Being here as long as you had, you’ve grown pretty close with most of the employees here. As cheesy as it sounds they were your family, and you would be damned if you were going to let this drunk asshole disrespect your family.

“Oh, all high and mighty over here, are we?” He waves his hands in front of him. “What? You want a fucking prize for trying to be a hero?” You heard Mr. Emily call your name from across the restaurant as he struggled to push through the crowd that had surrounded the commotion.

“What I want is for the drunk in front of me to stop berating one of my hostesses-” You were cut off, wincing away as he swung to strike you across the face. Much to your surprise the slap never came. You turned back to the man, ready to beat him to the ground, but it appeared that someone had beaten you to the punch, literally.

William Afton was on top of the man in the blink of an eye. Hauling his short, fat frame from the floor by his collar, leaving the man's toes barely skimming the neon patterned carpet. The man let out a shocked sound and began to protest, whatever clever response he had dreamed up died in his throat as a deep guttural growl left your boss. He slams the man up against the wall, you struggle to stop yourself from laughing as you watch him attempt to stretch himself to the floor. “Apparently, we need a crash course in how to keep our hands to ourselves.” Mr. Afton snarls.

“If it wasn't for the fact that she-” he quickly raises an arm to point at you.

“If you don't want to lose that finger I suggest you drop it.” His tone was dangerous, something you had never seen from him before. You were finally snapped from your trance by Mr. Emily gently shakes your shoulder and calls your name.

“Honey, come on. Come sit down in my office, just let him handle this.” He fusses over you as he leads you towards the back of the restaurant. The muffled, far off sound of Mr. Afton’s voice as he yelled at the man who had tried to assault you was drowned out when the door slammed shut behind you. You thudded into the cushions of the couch in his office, he pulled a bottle of water out of the mini fridge under his desk, handing it over to you and instructing you to drink it slowly. He quickly hurried out of the office once again, leaving you to sit in silence. You scrunched up your face uncomfortably, the painful thudding of your heart against your ribs finally registering. You felt a tear drip off your jaw and onto your lap, it took you a moment to realize you were crying. The door to Mr. Emily’s office opened softly, you looked over to find Mr. Afton peering around the door.

“Don’t look at me like that, you look like you’re about to apologize for something.” You attempt to joke to lighten the mood.

“Of course I’m going to apologize, rabbit, this happened on my watch.” He tries to argue.

“It’s not your fault that guy’s a douchebag.” He cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, kneeling down in front of your position seated on the couch.

“He didn’t get his hands on you, did he?” You shake your head, eyes trailing down to your lap. He chewed the inside of his cheek as his eyes traced over the terrified expression that had settled itself on your face.

You sniff, smiling up at him through teary eyes. “He probably hits like a bitch anyways.” He chuckles, pushing some stray hair out of your face. You sniff, “that was just really scary.” He tuts quietly, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I’m going to kill him if I ever see again.” He grumbles. “No one hurts my rabbit.” Your eyes widened slightly as your cheeks grew warm. He cradles you against him for a moment, your body easily relaxing in his arms.

You jump as Mr. Emily bursts back into the room. “He managed to squeak out before I could call the cops.” He huffs. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine Mr. Emily, promise.” You attempt to reassure him. He sighs, still eying you with a worried expression.

“Will, drive her home, make sure she gets something to eat.” He waves at his friend. “I’m giving you the rest of the weekend off with pay, go rest up.”

“Oh, Mr. Emily you don’t have to-”

“Weekend! With pay! This is non-negotiable, young lady!” He exclaims dramatically. 

“Come on rabbit.” Will chuckles, helping you up off the sofa. “Let’s get you something to eat.” Your hand lingers in his for a little longer than necessary, his striking silver eyes scanning over your features. You opened the door to Mr. Emily’s office only to find all of your coworkers crowded around outside. They all froze at the sight of Mr. Afton, knowing how bad it looked that they all had abandoned the floor. He sighs, glancing down at you and back up at them. “She’s okay. If any of you see that guy around here again you come tell me or Mr. Emily, he’s permanently banned from Freddy’s.” You feel the warmth of his palm spread across your back as he places a hand in between your shoulders. “I just wish we could've done more to teach that asshole a lesson.”

“Mr. Afton, you literally threw him out into the parking lot. If Mer hadn't stopped you it seemed like you probably would've handled the job pretty well.” One of the cooks chuckles only to be met with a collective murmur of approval from the group.

“Unfortunately, no matter how much I would've loved to watch you beat that guy into the pavement, it wouldn't be worth getting you locked up.” You glanced up at him only to find a semi surprised expression on his face. This was the first time he had witnessed such unwavering respect from all of his employees. Your attention is drawn to Meredith as she says your name, “you going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.” Your cheeks grew warm as you continued to explain the situation. “Mr. Afton’s going to drive me home.” You scanned over the group. “Where's Katie?” You watched a few of them shuffle out of the way as she was shoved to the front, her cheeks stained with tears as she looked down at the floor.

“It's all my fault that guy tried to hit you, I'm so sorry.” She sniffles.

“Hey,” you grab her gently by the shoulder, “that guy was a douchebag, I want to make sure you're okay.” At your genuine concern she broke down again, pulling you into a hug as she apologized repeatedly.

“Ryan, she comes in with you right?” Mr. Afton asks her boyfriend, who nods. “Both of you get out of here, I'll fix your time cards.” He nods to the doors. “The rest of you get back to the floor.” There was a hurried bunch of yessir’s and affirmative sounds as they hurried back out to their positions, Ryan taking Katie out the back door so they could leave. “Right, now that everyone knows you're okay,” the two of you share a laugh at all your coworkers' concern, “how about we go get something to eat, if that's alright with you.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” You smile at him, allowing him to lead you outside. He seemed nervous as he fumbled his keys from his pocket, nearly dropping them on the ground in the process. “What kind of food do you like?” He asks as he slides into the driver's seat next to you.

“I'm not picky, whatever works for me.” You reassure him. He grips the steering wheel tightly, swallowing thickly before turning to look at you.

“At the risk of sounding like an absolute creep, would you like to come back to my house so I can cook for you?” At the question your heart began to pound in your chest. He wanted you to come back to his house with him?

“You want to cook for me?” You couldn't stop a smile from lacing its way across your lips as you repeated the question back to him. “Why?”

“All the restaurants around here are pretty shitty,” he responds with a chuckle, “I happen to know my way around the kitchen pretty well… only if that's something you're comfortable with, of course.”

“If it's not too much trouble, Mr. Afton-”

“Will… you, um, you can call me Will.” His silver eyes met yours, your breath freezing in your lungs. “And it's no trouble at all. I'm looking forward to spending time with you.” He admits with a lopsided grin. You let out a flustered giggle before responding.

“I am too.” Will didn’t miss the nervous excitement in your tone. 

You pulled down the long gravel driveway, the thick fir trees acting as a tunnel that eventually opened to reveal a modest, pale yellow colonial tucked away nicely into the wilderness. “It must be nice not having to worry about neighbors.” You chuckle.

“What can I say? I like my privacy.” He jokes in response. You stick close to him as you head onto the porch, every snapping branch making you jump as you wait for him to unlock the door. “Don’t worry rabbit, I won’t let anything hurt you.” He promises with a coy smile. He pushes the door open, motioning for you to walk in ahead of him. Will’s house was furnished simply, there wasn’t much decoration outside of the basic necessities. A well loved, comfortable looking couch and matching loveseat sat around a well kept fireplace, from the fresh logs that sat inside it appeared to have been used recently. The walls were completely bare, painted a pale sage green with ivory trim, a stark contrast from his fellow co owner who practically had an entire family album strewn across his desk. “It’s not much–” 

“It’s cozy, I like it.” You reassure him with a soft smile.

“Well…” he starts, “It definitely feels a lot more like a home with you in it.” Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, your eyes meeting Will’s the instant the words tumbled from his lips. “You know, I just… I just don’t have company that often… it feels more like a home when there’s someone besides just me here.” He laughs awkwardly. You let out a shy giggle, your gaze quickly trailing to the floor.

“I’ll have to make this more than a one time visit then.” He takes your hand in his, gingerly bringing your knuckles to his lips, his thumb trailing over your skin, dulling the electric buzz that ran through your fingers from the small gesture.

“I’d really like that rabbit.” Your cheeks grow warm, the two of you exchanging a soft smile as he guides you in the direction of the kitchen.

“How would you like me to help?” Will gives you a shocked look, studying you carefully as a playful grin laces its way across his lips.

He can’t help but chuckle as he watches you roll up your sleeves, your usual bubbliness radiating from behind whatever nerves you were currently experiencing. “You want to help me cook?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Will laughs at your blunt response.

“Alright,” he holds up his hands in defeat, “no need to get so hostile.” You felt yourself relax as laughter of your own bubbled up in your throat. Your eyes met his, warmth spreading through your chest as butterflies erupted in your stomach. In that moment it really settled in just how right all of this felt.

Will sat across from you at the small, circular dining room table, a cluster of randomly assorted scented candles served as your lighting. You swirled around the dark red wine you held in your hand before taking a sip, Will was completely captivated as he watched the glass come to rest against your lips. “Thank you for dinner.” You speak up after a few moments of silence.

“I should be thanking you,” he says with a chuckle, “you were a big help.” The way his silver eyes seemed to almost glow in the dim light made your heart race, he looked at you with such fondness in his expression. “Rabbit, you look very beautiful tonight.”

You can’t help but giggle at his compliment, your cheeks growing warm as his gaze holds you in place. “Thank you Will.” You trail a finger around the rim of your glass, struggling to keep the dumb smile off your face.

“You’re blushing.” He remarks with a proud smirk.

“I am not!” You respond immediately, your flustered tone not masked in the slightest by your loud laughter. He just simply smiles, his gaze trailing over your features, mapping out every single curve and angle. You glanced at the clock, letting out a regretful sigh when you realized how late it had gotten. “I should probably get heading home.”

“Wow, when did it get so late?” He remarks in awe, finally noticing the time as well. “I’m sorry to have kept you–” The words die in his throat as he feels the warmth of your much smaller hands slowly cover his own.

“I had a really nice time with you tonight, Will.” The comment hung in the air for a moment as he thought of how to respond.

“Maybe… Maybe we could do this again sometime then?” His voice came out softly, barely more than a murmur, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of you gently holding his hand in your own.

“I’d like that.” You respond in a similar tone. You let your thumb slowly trail over his, the callouses he had built up over years of hard manual labor were rough under your fingertips. You reluctantly pulled your hand back, folding it neatly in your lap with the other.

The ride back to your house was spent in a tense silence, neither of you knowing exactly what to say at the moment. Your chest tightens as he shifts the car into park, you notice out of the corner of your eye how his mouth falls open to speak but no words come out at first. You turn to face him, prepared to say your goodbye for the evening, but your voice died in your throat when your eyes met his. He scanned over your face, his gaze eventually landing on your lips. For a brief moment the thought of how his scruff would feel as he kissed you flashed through your mind, how warm his hand would be against your cheek as he pulled you in closer. You shook the idea off before you could entertain it any further.

“I guess I will see you next week.” Every word tumbled slowly from his lips, not wanting to have to leave you a moment sooner than necessary.

“Unfortunately Mr. Emily seemed pretty serious about the whole weekend with pay, so next week it is.” You laugh demurely.

“If you need anything, you give me a call, okay?” You swallow thickly at his husky tone.

You nod, “okay.” You reach for the handle on the door, hesitating as your fingers wrap around the cool metal. Will began to fidget with the radio as he struggled to keep his eyes off of you, the soft crackling the only sound to break up the otherwise deafening silence. In one swift movement, you turned, lips landing on Will’s cheek. He sat motionless as you pulled back, his jaw hung slack in shock as he tried to process what had just happened. “Goodnight, Will.” You whisper as you hurriedly open the door.

“Goodnight, rabbit.” He can’t help but let his eyes trail after you as you stand, drinking in one last sight of you before you have to part ways. Both of you are already dreading the eternity of spending the weekend apart.

Tag List: @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll @phd-in-fuckery @helreyy @hallucinating-xoxo (if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know!)

[shakespearean-dream]

TW!!! — blood, scarring and mild body horror ahead 🥲

benny’s turn!

before i start i wanna clarify i hesitated a bit on posting this because lovely mutual @vor-leser just posted his benny interpretation (go look at it and follow him btw), and idk if we like mind melded or smth but our human benny’s are super similar LOL. i damn near scrapped the whole thing out of fear someone would get mad at me but i Would Not be able to start over and get this done ever so this is as good as we’re gonna get. 😭 my apologies niko love u /p

this has been like a full 7 days in the making 😭😭 the art block that i felt coming on while doing ellen and ted hit me like an optimus prime sized semi truck this week along with a depressive episode so i definitely appreciate that happening and i am not upset about it at all! /s i’m totally good so don’t worry or anything /gen, mental health is just weird and i also wanted to explain the gap in my posts 😔

i do not know how to feel about this drawing if i’m so fr with you; i’m proud of myself for AM-ified benny cause i think i got the slowly rotting from the inside out primal freak energy down pretty good, but on the other hand this feels kinda empty?? i usually have a lot more commentary squished in here but i think my brain’s a little fried 🤦‍♂️ i love drawing me some beautiful buff men though so drawing normal ben was familiar territory. however his wack ass haircut i gave him is his punishment for being a PRICK!!! go sit in the corner and think about ur actions benjamin.

like ted n the rest of the sillies i’m not straying too far from canon with his personality, he’s an ass and a murderer and a hella smart dickhead who desperately needs to be punished by the universe (thank you for that one AM). hot take i did not like his “redemption arc” in his game scenario and i don’t think with how he was throughout the entirety of his life (and also throughout the game, main example his inner dialogue) he would actually go out of his way to help the kid because he means it??? n prove he changed to the guys he killed cause he means it??? i dunno maybe AM torturing him made him have a main character “omg i’ve been in the wrong this whole time!!1” moment like the game suggests i’m just not buying it 💀 i’m sure it’s just cause bennys scenario couldn’t be too long and they couldn’t fully flesh him out which i won’t fault the game makers for. i’m a steven universe fan, i know what time constrictions can do to a plot and redemption arc 😭 looking at you white diamond…

his wife n kids are up top and they’re kinda neat to me— i was considering the hc that part of the reason manya (his canon wife) left him is because she realized she was a lesbian which would be funny as fuck considering benny’s also One Of Them Queers 😭. i think during the brief times he was home and able to parent his daughters they got really scared and tired of him, one because he’s just a very threatening powerful and overbearing man, but also because i feel like he would’ve been on their ASS about everything. grades, extracurriculars, friends, wardrobe, this guy was micromanaging his family to an annoying extreme (ofc because of his perfectionist complex). he probably loved manya and the kids in his own weird way, but it was more contractual to him than any real personal relationship. maybe he inherited that from his own parents?? i doubt he ever talked to them after he moved out.

that’s about the end of my thoughts on this fucker. 🥲 funny storyyyy i just remembered i have laundry to finish so im gonna go do that, lord help me. thank you for reading all this if you did!!!!! we’re over halfway through so who do yall want next? wanna save AM or nimdok for last? i’ll see u guys later :]]]

[moodooivy]

So I have many theories of what happened between Vox and Alastor, but I have to decide on something. So, I will be going into as much detail as I can analyzing the possible theories of what happened. I'll try to be as unbiased as I can and not let my shipper brain get in the way. (I will be saying maybe and possibly a lot so get ready for that)

Theory 1: Alastor's deal;

In this theory people say that Alastor had to decline Vox's offer to join the Vees and leave him because of his deal. That he had no choice. Another idea to this is that Alastor was threatened to agree to the deal for Vox's protection or happiness. Another possibility is that Alastor had to disappear because of his contract and that left Vox bitter because he thought Alastor abandoned him. As much as my RadioStatic mind loves this idea, it is extremely unlikely. I mean the way Alastor treats Vox does not give "I had to betray you in the past when I didn't want to". It gives "I'm bitter and love to mess with you, fuck you". Though this outcome isn't impossible. A possible way I see is maybe Alastor's deal involved taking away his ability to show feelings? It could explain why Alastor is always smiling. But I don't think that's the case. As for the reasoning of Vox feeling abandoned, I don't think that's it either. I feel like there would've been a scene acknowledging that to be the case already. So I'm going with no, probably not this.

Theory 2: Love confession;

Ah yes. The classic love confession theory. In this theory, people say that Vox was in love with Alastor, but when he confessed to Alastor he was rejected. Either then Alastor left or they got into a fight and then Alastor left. Either way, Al left Vox bitter and rejected. As much as I love RadioStatic, I hate RadioSilence and am not a believer in this theory. Again, I feel like we would already know if this were the case. And Vox just doesn't give me bitter rejected vibes. I just feel like if it were the case, I don't know, Vox would make it more obvious? But that doesn't mean this is impossible. Plus, there's always a possibility something similar to Blitz and Fizz happened. One of them was about to confess but then their fallout happened. That honestly does sound likely. Or, maybe Alastor misunderstood Vox. Vox wasn't actually asking him to join his team, he was asking Al to join him. Alastor didn't understand this and rejected the offer, or he knew full well and thought Vox only saw it as a business thing or maybe even a sex thing, since Valentino was apparently in the picture at that point. There is a reason why I just said love confession and not Vox's love confession. I actually do believe it is possible Alastor had feelings as well. People forget that Alastor was never confirmed to be aromantic, and even if he was, AroAce people can still fall in love, so it's not impossible. In fact I feel like it is very possible there was some mutual pining between these two. Where they both liked each other but just didn't realize it. To all those who have read Daughter Of Discord, tell me you don't get the thought of Discord and Chrysalis's past in your head. This brings me to the next theory.

Theory 3: They were changing too much;

In this theory, it is thought that Vox was changing too much. Alastor and Vox used to be friends, but Alastor didn't like how his old pal was becoming modernized and different. Alastor seems to really dislike change, and that could either be because of the fallout or contributed to the fallout. Perhaps when Vox asked Alastor to join him that was the breaking point. He thought Vox would try to change him. Change his name, make him use modern technology, change who he is. I believe this is the most likely situation. Another possibly, and what I think is most possible, Vox was growing powerful way too quickly. Alastor loves power. He took immediate disliking to Lucifer and I am pretty sure it's because Lucifer is probably the only thing in Hell stronger than him... But at the same time. Alastor is smart. Like, really smart. I feel like the last thing he would think of doing to someone he thought was growing more powerful than him would be to cut ties with them and make enemies. Alastor messes with Lucifer because he knows if Lucifer hurt him he would destroy his relationship with Charlie so he can't do shit. Another possibility is that Alastor's strange moral code might've gotten in the way. Unlikely I know, but Alastor does have some moral to himself where he seems to not harm, in fact somewhat protects those that are weak and defenseless. Maybe his and Vox's morals didn't align and Alastor didn't like the immoral path Vox was taking.

Theory 4: Velvette and Valentino;

In this theory, it is thought that the idea of the Vees is what caused Vox and Alastor's fallout. Maybe Alastor thought working with three would be too much. Maybe he thought they would hold him back. That would fit into the timeline. In the series I think it is supposed to be hinted that Velvette wasn't around during the fallout, so I'll look at it from that perspective. Alastor didn't like Vox's company of Valentino (Honestly who doesn't) so when Vox offered for Alastor to join them, Al said no, they got into a fight, Alastor disappeared, and so Val and Vox recruited Vel instead.

So, what do you guys think happened. Let me know because I am very interested. I apologize if this is hard to understand, the way I speak can be like that, but hopefully everyone gets this.

[utilitycaster]

do you really think the reason Imogen doesnt get as much meta as Caleb (who got every little detail discussed with thousands of notes!) is because people are afraid of a reaction, when its so obviously sexism?

The same reason she doesn't get the exact number of notes as Caleb? No. There's multiple reasons. I'm sure some is misogyny. Some is probably audience size for the respective campaigns, and some is simply accumulation over time - a post about Caleb from 2019 has had 5 years to gather notes.

But also. Are you fucking stupid. You literally showed up because of my tags to be kind of a dick in my inbox. I and multiple people who committed the grave sin of *checks notes* interacting with me were sent hate messages for hours on a Saturday night because I hinted in the tags that I kind of liked Fearne and Ashton as a ship while not being terribly into Imogen and Laudna, and some absolutely deranged loser decided this was an appropriate response. I was called out by someone who had made a blog specifically to block me when I responded to a reblog from someone else on a post I had made stating that Gelvaan was almost certainly not homophobic in canon and that treating Imogen's psychic powers as a metaphor for queerness has a lot of really unfortunate implications. And this hasn't even touched on that one person whose entire raison d'etre appears to be harassing every single person who doesn't think Imogen, Laudna, and their relationship is perfect; and who specifically made multiple alts to harass me. Like, the "It's Obviously Misogyny" people are genuinely putting more effort into being a dick to me than in writing meta about Imogen. You might be one of them.

I talk to many of my mutuals, some of whom really like Imogen, and yes, people do decide "you know, this could be interpreted by someone as too critical, and I don't feel like dealing with the heat" and keep that meta to the DMs or don't share it at all.

You know that post that Matt liked on Twitter that people have been, let's not mince words, jacking themselves off about ever since? If you actually try to say something with substance and evidence about how Imogen has Liliana's fear (the fear that meant that when Imogen begged her mother to leave the Vanguard, Liliana turned her own daughter down, claiming to need to stay with other children) or Delilah's love (which made her cruel, ruthless, and ultimately all-but doomed her) or Ludinus's desire for power (led him to commit endless atrocities) but resists these things in her desire to be a good person - and frankly, I think painting her with the same brush as Delilah or Ludinus isn't even true but I would love to dig into her similarities to Liliana - some asshole who smugly reblogs that post every time someone says "not to be controversial I think Imogen sometimes says things that could maybe be hurtful to other people I think" will throw a full temper tantrum and might send them an incoherent anon calling them a little hypocrite.

It's also fascinating because a lot of the tantrum-havers who will defend Imogen of even the most anodyne "perhaps this is not the most positive trait" and who will cite harassment Marisha received 7 years ago as a reason to not breathe a word of criticism about Laudna - and many of these people joined the fandom about 2 years ago if not sooner - will do this at the very people who have been supporting Keyleth since Campaign 1 was still airing. I mean, seniority doesn't mean anything but if you're lecturing people about something you weren't there for and they were? Clown behavior. Oh and a lot of those people doing the lecturing? Don't really like Keyleth very much, because she does things like "be angry" and "support Orym" and "have a measured viewpoint that doesn't match theirs" and "pretty clearly, along with Allura, who they also barely ever talk about, is directing Bells Hells along a specific path of that pesky moon plot because contrary to a weirdly widespread belief this is the moon plot campaign and not the baking cookies in a cottage campaign."

I mean, half these people forget about Fearne much of the time. The only NPCs I see many of them even talk about are the Vanguard generals and occasionally Abbadina when she's convenient for an argument. Not a damn word for Orlana or Birdie or Dancer or Weva or Rashinna, and they mostly treated Deanna, Prism, and Deni$e as nothing more than implements to shove Imogen and Laudna together but man do they have mountains to say about Bor'Dor. Hell, go to the blog of someone who whines about the way people treat Imogen and look through their meta, if they have it, and the vast majority of the time it's about Ashton and Orym and Ludinus and then they spend the rest of the time complaining about how The Big Mean Fandom is So Mean to Girls but they sure don't have much to say either because turns out if you can't say anything even remotely critical of a female character, it's really hard to write anything, and that's assuming they actually care about writing about female characters instead of just being an asshole, which as stated above is, in my mind, in doubt.

If you have ever spent a single second harassing actual living women online because you didn't like their thoughts on a pretend woman you are, at least in this specific scenario, easily the shittier person. Personally I am confident in my feminist bona fides through, you know, real world activism and how I interact with and support women and feminist causes socially, professionally, financially, and politically in my actual life, but yeah even I sometimes say "you know, I have thoughts about this thing regarding Imogen...but I've had a rough week and I don't feel like having one of the fandom tar pits on my ass" so I'll send my thoughts to a few friends and then idk, write about something else. And I'm pretty thick-skinned (this is the other problem with this strategy; you filter out the more measured and kind and sensitive people first and you're left only with people like me). A lot of people have flat-out given up writing about Imogen (or Laudna, much of the time) because they don't feel like dealing with backlash over some really mild statements. And because you send kind of dickish anons I suspect that it's more likely that you might be part of the problem than part of the solution. So no, it's not the only reason, but it's absolutely a significant one. Congratulations. You played yourself.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 2 (episodes 1-5)

Episode 1 - Monsters and Chimeras

I didn't mention it in the liveblog of season 1, but I think it is probably common for a person in a group of adventurers to be a scribe/quest journal keeper.

(putting on a crepinjurgenite tinfoil hat) We know that Kerubim keeps one canonically, and that as a child Joris liked scrap booking, so my headcanon is as follows:

While travelling alone, Joris keeps a private travel journal nobody is allowed to read (it has: drawings and photos of views he found beautiful + quick sketches of maps and notes on environment to refine at home (HE'S CANONICALLY INTO CARTOGRAPHY, BESIDES PHOTOGRAPHY) + he gets sappy&mentally ill about it all, so it's cringe to him.) (Unsurprisingly, it never contains any sensitive political data or his objectives, and if he does need to write something like that down, he tears that page out asap)

Atcham doesn't keep journals as a rule (having a literal paper trail might reveal to the investigators the location where he hid the bodies)

While travelling as a group, Kerubim keeps the journal, and it's a pretty pragmatic one (for him. He writes down the most random things, from important info, to actual fucking recipies he learned and personal notes à la "NOTE! next morning after we exit the tavern i should buy tangerines. i think Joris is beginning to suffer vitamin C deficiency but is keeping silent about it as usual"). Unlike Joris, he isn't into photography or doodling, HOWEVER, he will purposefully ask Joris to take photos and draw maps/landmarks in that journal. Because Joris is good at it. (And because he has had a folder of Joris's art through ages 4-600 in a hidden room in the house, all framed and sorted alphabetically, and he NEEDS more items in the collection.)

Episode 2 - Rubilaxia

It was mentioned at the end of the previous episode that Eva would be making her way through the Cania plains, and I am glad the series shows us at least one of the unique rocks found in Cania.

I don't know why, but it feels nice when the games and the cartoons represent the same place the same way. That's why I'm pointing that out.

Episode 3 - Remington Smisse

(coughs) This sword appears in episode 1 of the critically acclaimed (and worldwide-beloved) show under the name "Dofus: Aux Tresors de Kerubim"

Once again, the show has been planting seeds for Adamai's joker arc for its entire run, and still managed to squander it during season 3.

I have never seen a show fumble the bag that bad, I'm sorry.

Episode 4 - The Return of Percedal

Big believer in rubitristeva. A family can be a dad and swdad (sword dad) and a mom.

Episode 5 - The Dragon Pig

Wakfu Cannibalism Counter: 1

The reason I point this out is that, with every instance of inter-adventurer cannibalism in canon, the chance that Joris, Kerubim, and Atcham have tasted human flesh (outside of Waven) grows.

On the topic of Waven Cannibalism Lore, strangely, porkassess, AKA the pig people who are stuck in a mutual cannibalism war with Bonta under Joris's rule (technically not cannibalism because they are a different sentient species from twelvians, similar to goblins and bworks, but I doubt it's much better...) worship the minor god Ougah (who is a mushroom)

It is unknown (at least, to me) what the hell the Dragon Pig is.

But he is definitely tasty.

While they were busy grinding their professions and doing pizzlarva quests, he was dungeon crawling with his guild.

Also, let me be real, the whole conflict of "boo-hoo, nobody respects Tristepin" is random, mean-spirited, and out of character, inserted into the show simply to create conflict. Tristepin got resurrected after weeks of them thinking he was dead. They should not, logically, treat him this way (at least yet).

Reasons I think Dragon Pig might be an immortal, perpetually reincarnating/perpetually killed porkass: Does this to a person who lives in areas surrounding Bonta.

[dianneking]

I wish I knew (you wanted me)  Larissa / Reader angsty oneshot

Summary: Larissa announces her engagement. Reader can sense something is off.

Hi! Happy Sunday! It seems like it’s becoming a sort of tradition of mine to set you up with an angsty oneshot on the weekend, how fun (this is not a promise that this will keep happening, but it already happened two Sundays in a row, so…who knows?). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the gut-wrench that is today’s fic.  

You can read it on AO3 here

Tags: Mutual Pining, marriage of convenience, angst upon angst, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, guns and taser guns, violence, blood & injury,  hospitals, mentions of death, afterlife and hell, season 1 spoilers. Wordcount: 3906

You looked at her, surrounded by well-wishers, side by side with her newly-announced fiancé. By your side, Vlad leaned against the wall, his eyes on the tall frame of the principal as well. He was the one that broke the comfortable silence.

– She looks so happy. – No, she doesn't.

– What are you on about, look at her smiling away and showing off her ring. – It's a fake smile. Obviously. – What do you even mean? – How is it possible that you don't see it? Look at her eyes. When she's really smiling, her eyes crinkle up, and her nose scrunches up a little and you can almost feel the joy coming off of her. There's nothing of that sort now. She looks...hollow. – Are you sure you're not an empath? – Don't be a dick now, Vlad. You know perfectly well I am a no-show, the only normie in a family of outcasts. The only reason why they let me here at Nevermore is because of family traditions. And I managed to snag the history teaching position pretty soon after I finished uni, luckily, so I came back. – You might be a late bloomer. – Or I might actually be able to see what's plainly in front of my eyes. Whatever the reason she's doing it, it's not because it makes her happy. – Okay, maybe you are not an empath, maybe you are just obsessed with your boss. – I...am not! I look up to her, that's all. – Darling, we all look up to her, the woman is like six foot something. But when you do look at her, your eyes are basically heart shaped. Now that is plain for everyone to see. – Fat lot of good it does now, doesn't it? She’s going to get married soon anyway. It’s not like I’m going to confess to her on her wedding day. * You closed the door behind you, letting your eyes travel over her. – You look...beautiful, – you murmured, hating how your voice broke a little while saying it. She really did look glorious, her wedding gown hugging her frame, leaving her creamy shoulders bare, her collarbones decorated by a simple necklace. Her hair was coiffed in a similar updo to the one she usually wore, enriched by the lace veil cascading down her back from where it was pinned to the back of her head. Beautiful didn’t even start to describe Larissa Weems on her wedding day. And then she looked up at you from her sitting position and your breath caught in your throat at how her splendid blue eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Not the tears of nervous happiness one could expect of a bride about to get married: those were tears of heartbreak. Without thinking, you rushed by her side, kneeling beside her chair, your hand finding hers and curling around it. It was cold like a corpse's.

– You don't love him. It wasn't really a question, but she still shook her head, mutely.

– And I bet he doesn't love you either, does he? She shook her head again, pressing her lips together, as if to prevent herself from talking.

– Then why are you doing this? As the first tears broke the barrier of her lids and started rolling down her face, she looked away, unable or unwilling to answer. Resignation.

– Larissa, there's always other possibilities. You don't have to. – It's for the good of the school. – she whispered, brokenly. – But what about your happiness? Do you really want to be stuck in a loveless marriage of convenience? Something must have struck a nerve, because she bristled at this, hurt and anger and frustration mingling in her tone: – I'm doing this to protect my Nevermore family. And that includes you.

– Don't you dare tell me you are marrying him because of me. I'm sure there are other ways to solve this issue. Ways that don't condemn you to a life of regret. – Why do you even care? – I love you.

The words were out before you realized it, but even if you could, you wouldn't take them back. She needed to know. Her eyes snapped back to you, wide open, as she pressed her hand to her mouth. The tears kept streaming down her cheeks. In the silent room, you could hear the muffled sob that she was trying to hide.

– I cannot bear to watch you marry him seeing how unhappy it makes you. Her hand left her face, coming down to grip yours in a bruising hold. You could see her lips quivering as she struggled for words.

– I wish I had known...I couldn't dare to hope... – Hope for what? – My feelings to be returned.

Her voice was the faintest of whispers, but it struck you with the force of a thunderclap. You were still reeling from it when her lips were on yours, soft as you had always imagined them, but almost timid in their movements against your mouth. You kissed back, your tongue running against her mouth, tasting the saltiness of her tears before she allowed you entry, her hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in even more, her movements now almost desperate. As if she wanted to commit the sensation to memory.

You pulled away slightly, whispering against her lips, in a prayer: – Don't marry him. Let's go back to Nevermore, regroup there. We'll find another way. We can make it work.

Her hand fell away from your nape, and she straightened up, putting distance between the two of you. You could see the pain, raw on your face, and you knew what she was about to say before her lips moved.

– I... We can't, I’m sorry. I… Screams coming from the assembled people outside interrupted whatever else she had been about to say, but her answer had been clear already. She would choose unhappiness with someone else, even if she returned your feelings. You had lost your only chance. You could feel your heart breaking all over again, even harder now that you'd allowed yourself to hope for a handful of seconds, for the time of a kiss. You stood up, feeling unbalanced on your own two feet. The terrified screams weren't stopping, echoing the despair you were feeling.

Larissa went to the window, trying without much success to understand what was going on, leaving you with your pain. As she made to move towards the door, you stopped her with a hand on her arm.

– Wait here, I'll go check. Wouldn't want your future husband to see you before the ceremony, right? That would be bad luck. – You didn’t feel guilty at the bitterness in your tone, but it pained you to see her physically recoil hearing it, as if stung.

You opened the door, eyes scanning the garden where the wedding was supposed to take place. You had left it an idyllic set-up of white flowers and chatting guests with soothing live music coming from a string quartet in the far-out corner, and in the small lapse of time you had spent indoors, it had turned into chaos. The chairs had been thrown each and every way, there were people running and screaming, the decorations flung on the floor, or hanging sideways from their original places. Where the band once stood, dark, acrid smoke was rising, tainting the clear morning air. And in the middle of it all, a horribly familiar, bulbous shape, flinging its claws around.

– Well, it seems that young Mr. Galpin has heard of his father remarrying and he’s not happy about it.

– WHAT?

– You stay here, Larissa. Stay safe. I’ll go help out.

You had learned your lesson from last year’s near-disaster. That morning you had thought about leaving your trusted taser gun home (who brings one to a wedding?), but you had felt naked without its comforting weight in your pocket and had decided to hold onto it.

You made your way towards the beast, weaving your way through fleeing people, upturned chairs and fallen debris. The smoke stung your eyes, but you could still clearly see the groom-to-be trying to talk to the Hyde while still aiming his gun at the beast. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the Hyde was slowly getting closer to him, leaving a trace of destruction, forcing the sheriff to scramble back, behind the altar. Luckily this allowed you to arrive close enough to the both of them without the Hyde noticing you. Quickly, you took the safety away from your stun gun, and fired it to its muscular back, hoping it would spasm and lock up, incapacitating your enemy.

You weren’t so lucky.

It looked like the shock hadn’t affected the monster in the least, except for making it even angrier, and alerting it to your presence. It turned towards you, its horrifying face contorted into a growl, its arm tangling up in the thin metal wires that connected the darts to your gun. You held onto your weapon, delivering another shock: it seemed to at least cause the beast more pain than it did the first time, if the loud yelp that left its mouth was any indication. However, its flailing movements to get rid of the darts caused it to yank with inhuman strength on the cables, sending you careening through the small distance that separated you, and crashing against the monster’s chest, smacking your heads together.

It felt like hitting a brick wall. Pain bloomed in your forehead, and your vision swam, tunneling on the bulbous, horrible eyes in front of you. Everything felt like it was running in slow motion. For an interminable second, both you and the monster reeled from the hit, unable to make sense of what had just happened, and looking at each other in the eyes unblinkingly like a pair of lovestruck teenagers. Then the Hyde roared in your face, and as its fetid breath hit your face, you felt a pang of sorrow at the thought that its fangs would probably be the last thing you’d see in this life.

You blinked.

The gunshot rang in the suddenly silent garden. Was it silent? It felt silent, but you thought you could still hear some far away screaming. It almost felt like it was your name being called. How ridiculous. Why would anyone scream your name? You turned towards the sound, seeing Larissa, still clad in her wedding gown, a firearm clutched into her shaking hands.

Even then, she looked beautiful. How was that even possible?, you asked yourself as the Hyde collapsed on its shattered knee, taking you down with it. You fell on top of him as he slowly returned to his human form, unconscious due to the pain. The horribly disfigured face morphed back to the well-known one of young Tyler, who had prepared your coffee for years before trying to kill you and all of your students. Even seeing the change first-hand it was still difficult to think he and the beast were inhabiting the same body. You kept staring as the bulbous, grey skin turned back to its human, supple state, the muscles shrank, and the claws retracted back into his fingertips, pulling out from where they were plunged into your abdomen.

Oh.

You rolled on the side, looking at the puncture wounds in a sort of dream-like, detached way. The blood was only now welling up, soaking through your shirt, red blooming bright on the light cloth like a giant flower.

You heard your name again, this time as if coming from even further away. Hands were grabbing your shoulders, and you slowly looked up into Larissa’s beautiful eyes. Her lips were moving, but no sound was reaching your ears. How weird. Your lids were growing heavier, but you fought against it. You wanted to keep looking at her - she was so beautiful, even with tears once again streaming down her face. You were lucky that your feelings were returned, even if she was about to marry someone else. To have any place in the heart of such a woman was already a blessing.

You raised a hand to her cheek, to wipe away her tears, but each movement felt as if you were struggling against quicksand. You only managed to brush against her skin before your arm fell limply back to your side . She was now pressing both of her hands on your abdomen, your blood painting a stark contrast on the immaculate white of her wedding gown. It would take a lot of effort to take out the stain you thought. Was that the reason for the desperation on her face as she looked at you?

Even with that, her face is a much better last thing to see, you thought as you slipped into darkness.

*

Maybe it would have been better to stay dead. Or whatever you had been, you mused, as you unhappily focused your bleary eyes on the scene in front of you. Or perhaps you had died and for all of your not believing in it, you had ended up in hell itself. Probably kissing a soon-to-be-bride and trying to convince her to ditch her fiancé on the altar was some sort of sin. That would explain your own damnation.

You blinked, hoping the scene would change somehow, but it was still the same: you were lying on a bed, in an unfamiliar, too-white room. The sun was streaming in from the window to the side, illuminating a collection of flower vases on the rickety table in front of it. And near the foot of your bed, impossible not to see, a tall figure who couldn’t be anyone else but the last woman you had seen, the woman that still had your heart, whether you were actually dead or still in the realm of the living. Larissa.

Larissa, her shoulder shaking, her face hidden from view, wrapped as she was into the comforting hug of a grave-faced Sheriff Galpin. Her fiancé. Maybe her husband, now. Your heart hurt as if it was still alive, but that was probably your personal torment in hell: being forced to watch them for all of eternity. Unable to look away, unable to reach out. You had never cared for the salvation of your soul until now.

You wondered if you could close your eyes, and were surprised to find out that you could. As darkness enveloped you once again, you hoped never to see the light again.

But you did, and this time the scene had changed. Larissa was alone, sitting on a chair beside your bed. As if through a dream, you could feel the warmth of her hand on yours, and you could smell her perfume hanging in the air around you. You studied her, wondering what today’s torment would be. She was beautiful, as always, even if her face was tired, her eyes listless as they stared at your joined hands.

Maybe…maybe this wasn’t hell after all.

You tried hard to command your hand to slightly squeeze hers, to get her attention, to show both her and yourself that you were awake, that you were alive. It felt like you were trying to move a boulder with your thoughts alone. You tried again and again, straining against the block inside your head. As you were almost about to give up, you felt the tiniest twitch of your fingers, and you thought you felt a soft gasp coming from her lips, but your vision had already turned black once again.

*

Day after day, you would wake up, and always find Larissa by your side, be it night or day, typing away at her laptop, lost in thought, or asleep. Sometimes Sheriff Galpin would be there too, talking to her in hushed tones, or reading the paper in the other chair. You pretended to be asleep when he was there, trying to ignore the tightening of your chest at the two of them together.

You did spend a lot of time sleeping, anyways. Each small movement was a struggle that wiped you out. It took what felt like ages to be able to talk, and even then the first time you had barely managed to croak out a broken Hi and you had seen Larissa’s eyes fill with tears as she smiled at you. You had looked away, unwilling to see the pity you were sure to find there. You felt so useless.

*

– How long…was I out for?

Your voice still had a raspy, weird quality to it, but you were now able to have small conversations, that made you feel somewhat more human.

– It’s been five weeks as of yesterday. – You could see she was trying to act nonchalant about it, probably to avoid upsetting you.

– …Damn.  – You managed to choke out. Whatever you had expected, that was not it. Had it really been that long? Five weeks was a long time to be stuck in a hospital. In five weeks a lot could change, especially in a place such as Nevermore. And how much longer would it take for you to go back to your life? If that was even in the cards? Would you be able to talk long enough to teach? To go through a day without sleeping for most of it?

– Quite. – You counted the small upturn of Larissa’s mouth at your eloquent assessment of the situation as a victory. She looked like she hadn’t had a lot of reasons to smile in the last period. She looked gaunt, tired. Having to be here by your side on top of everything else was probably putting a strain on her.

– I’m sorry.

– What for?

– For all the trouble. Having your wedding ruined, and having to care for sick teacher on top of finding a substitute… I’m sorry to have piled more stress on you.  

– You must be joking. That was the least of my problems. When I saw you there, all covered in blood I thought… God, I thought… – she passed a hand on her face, as if afraid to finish her sentence. You took pity on her and spoke the words she didn’t want to.

– You thought I was dying.

– Yes. And I wouldn’t have been able to forgive me if you did. You…

– I was stupid. I was trying to help, and made… a bigger mess, as always. – You shrugged in a self-deprecating manner. Why on Earth you thought that a taser gun would work against a Hyde, one of the most dangerous outcast types known to humankind, was still a mystery. Such an idiot. And your idiocy almost costed you your life.

–  Don’t you dare to say that! –  She grabbed your hand, her eyes piercing yours with an intensity you had never seen in those beautiful blue gems. – If it hadn’t been for you, Donovan and possibly other people would probably be dead. What you did was heroic.

Of course she was grateful to you for saving the sheriff’s life. The man she had chosen even if she wasn’t in love with him. Was this something else that had changed in these five weeks? Had the dramatic experience brought the two closer together? Maybe they had developed those feelings that were missing from their relationship. Maybe having you out of the picture had given Larissa the peace of mind to move on.

Like you would have to do, eventually. No matter how painful it was, she would never be anything more than your boss and possibly a friend to you. Close, but always out of reach. You tried to change the subject, swallowing around the knot in your throat, and pretending that your difficulty with talking came from your accident and not from the gaping hole in your chest where your heart once was.

– Well, I guess…congratulations are in order, right?

– What do you mean?

– The wedding. I’m guessing you two… tied the knot as I was out of it. Hopefully it was… less eventful than the last time, eh, Mrs. Galpin?

It hurt. It hurt to call her that, it hurt to think of how she had clung to the sheriff’s smaller frame the first time you had woken up. It hurt just to think of them together, Jericho’s most recent couple, bound in a marriage of convenience.

– No, there…there was no marriage. We called it off.

– Oh. I see. I’ll try …not to die the next time then. Since you… waited for me to wake back up and all. – Your joke fell flat, as you imagined what a torture it would be to once again see Larissa in a wedding dress, to see her walk down the aisle, exchange her vows, and see her kiss her groom knowing how those lips had felt on yours in that one stolen kiss.

– There will be no next time. Donovan and I - we had a lot of time to talk through things. We decided this would make us both miserable. We, we broke the engagement.

– …

Try as you might, you couldn’t find anything to answer to that. You were fighting too hard to squash the sudden hope that had blossomed in your chest at that announcement. That didn’t mean anything, you tried to tell yourself. It didn’t have anything to do with you, or the kiss you had shared. She had probably just realized how dull living with Sheriff Galpin would be, or something like that.

– Aren’t you going to say anything? – Were you imagining it or had Larissa’s face just dropped slightly, were you imagining it or was there disappointment tinging her tone?

– I…I’m not sure what you want me…to say, Larissa.

She bit her lip, and lowered her eyes to where her hand was still holding yours over the hospital bedsheet. When she spoke, her voice was soft and so warm with feeling it almost took your breath away.

– When you were bleeding out, all I could think of was that I had just found the love of my life, and I had been so bloody stupid to let you go. Please, give me one chance, I prayed. I don’t even believe in a higher Being, but I was praying all the time you were unconscious. Once chance and I am going to do my best to cherish the fact that my feelings are returned. –

She snapped her eyes back to meet yours, and if her voice was full of feelings, it was nothing compared to what her eyes were showing you: – I love you. I have been for quite some time, and yet struggled with accepting it. But now I do, and I realized that no matter what my head was trying to do, my heart already belonged to you. And it is yours if…if you’d like it.

You squeezed her hand and held her gaze, trying to put into words how her words had made your heart whole again, how full and how happy your chest felt now. How hope and love were now vibrating in the air around you, composing a symphony that no human ear could ever comprehend.

In the end the only words you could squeeze out were: – I’d…love to.

But it seemed that she had understood all the other words you hadn’t said, because she squeezed your hand as well, leaning towards you until your lips met into a kiss full of promises and reciprocal love.

Liked it? You can find more of my writings on my fanfiction masterlist! 

[8turning]

HII can u do a 8turn headcannon abt how they r like crushing on the reader and what they do to show the reader their love for them ?

thank you for this request!! apologies that it took me so long 💔

☆⠀⠀8TURN — when they're pining for you !

hyung line + jangshinz (separately) x gn ! reader ★ fluff. mutual pining. ★ headcannon

warnings: swearing. physical affection. let me know if i missed anything!

n. i have a similar headcannon here about how they'd show their love; this fic will focus more on how they pine for reader since a lot of my thoughts are already shared on that post!! ♡ also this derailed a bit,,, there's implied confessions HELP sorry 🤒

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀〈 REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED ! 〉

⁰⁰¹ : JAEYUN.

wouldn't realize he liked you until someone pointed it out to him 1/2 🤕

^ he would regret thinking deeper about what yoonsung had told him: "are you sure you don't feel anything for them?" . . . queue a montage of every single memory he has with you where his stomach did a "weird flip" that he never chose to acknowledge.

basically. jaeyun was fucked LOL

BUT despite his revelation, he managed to keep himself composed pretty well. he was never overly affectionate with the members so him suddenly getting lost in his thoughts a lot wasn't exactly foreign.

what was foreign, though, was his very apparent distance.

to be fair, he wasn't fully aware he was doing it. it was more so "when i'm around them i get this Feeling. i cant handle that Feeling right now," then he kinda just. goes somewhere else for the time being.

you'd realize it, overthink it all, and text him on a whim that you needed to talk to him.

he'd get so nervous and only then would he really think about his behavior and . . . yeah you deserved an explanation, even if it resulted in rejection for him :(

he wouldn't speak first. he'd want you to feel welcomed to let out any emotion you were feeling; you were the one who wanted to talk, it wouldn't be right of him to take over.

he'd know that no matter his reason, him suddenly avoiding you and saying "i didn't realize" wasn't going to cut it, so swallowing whatever anxiety he had, he confessed then and there. it wasn't too in depth, of course, but it didn't feel right for him to hide it any longer - especially after everything.

but, the silence that followed his confession made all the anxiety bubble up again, only for you to speak about your reciprocated feelings.

in an unknown way, him pulling back from you is what brought you two together in the end; strange how that works.

⁰⁰² : MYUNGHO.

he's not shy in the slightest LMFAOO 💀 it'd be more shocking if you didn't know he liked you.

it doesn't even matter if you two were hanging out with other people either, he'd make a point to sit by you during a movie. even if it wasn't a horror movie, he'd still tell you that if you're scared, you can cling to him (as if he is any better with scary movies . . . his arm ends up around your shoulder anyways).

he's not usually one for talking during a movie, but he cant help but crack jokes here and there, using that as an excuse to lean in closer to you and watch as you try to hold your laughter in, his eyes watching you adoringly.

myungho would pull you into your own little world when you're with one another,,, he'd literally be so obvious about his feelings for you i'm crying.

openly flirting and complimenting you non-stop,,, holding eye contact if you ever caught him looking at you,,,

myungho would literally tell you how much he liked you straight up 🤭 "i like you a lot, y'know that?" "i'm so glad i met you." "you'll let me stay with you, right?"

the only time EVER he'd get shy if it was you who initiated something. he'd actually lose his mind.

it'd be such a stark contrast to the myungho you knew previously that you couldn't help but laugh a bit whenever you caught him like that.

holding his hand out of nowhere or leaning your head on his shoulder is a surefire way to make heat rise along his neck and make him go speechless.

he's so open about it and talks about you so much. his members are SICK OF HIM!!!! /j

minho probably threatened that if he doesn't make a move soon that he'll ask you out himself . . . you'd get a message from myungho the next morning ♡

⁰⁰³ : MINHO.

bye he's so so playful and he'd be able to cover up how he truly felt pretty well, which was both a positive and a negative for him.

positive: he'd be able to hug you nonchalantly or tap his cheek asking for a kiss and you'd think nothing of it.

negative: you'd think nothing of it.

since minho often acts this way with his friends as well, he slowly becomes self-conscious of his actions, worrying that that's all you saw him as - a friend.

he'd probably slowly try to either a: be more forward with you, or b: reserve certain actions for you only.

minho would stop blowing kisses to myungho and asking seungheon to kiss his cheek. he might even go as far as to not be as physically affectionate with his members anymore.

slowly letting you come to the conclusion yourself that the way he treats you is different from his members.

if you weren't the type to fight against him when he acted this way, if you suddenly started reciprocating the same actions towards him, his head would start spinning.

if it was a normal occurrence for you to return his energy, he'd start to wonder if you treated your friends like this as well.

but . . . he never saw you cling onto jaeyun's arms like you do with him . . . and you don't look at haemin the same way you look at him . . . hm . . .

minho crushing on you would be hard to detect until he made more of an effort to let his guard down about it.

you'd pick up on his behavior change pretty quickly which only opened the conversation of "why are you suddenly treating me like i'm special?"

(hint: its because you are special to him).

⁰⁰⁴ : YOONSUNG.

he is taking this to his GRAVE!!! he'd try to be so so so secretive and discreet.

yoonsung falls hard and doesn't want to overwhelm you with how he feels and everything :( wants to try and soak in the feeling of crushing on you but every time he sees you he just gets so overjoyed and just wants to confess right then and there.

which is why he feels he needs to take this to his grave 😭 he's not sure if he will ever be able to fully "calm down" around you enough to properly confess to you the way you deserve to be confessed (he thinks you deserve the world).

tries to act as Normal as he can around you, but most of the time i think he'd fall kind of silent.

whether you're with a group of friends or just talking one-on-one, he'd get so wrapped up in his thoughts and become uncharacteristically quiet.

it was a constant internal battle for yoonsung. he wanted to be near you but also knew he likely couldn't hide how he felt for much longer.

unlike minho, yoonsung wasn't going to hug you or hold your hand out of no where. he did this with his friends, sure, but he didn't see you as just a friend, which made physical affection towards you that much harder.

the lines would get blurred in his brain and he feared if you reciprocated, even if it was platonic, he'd make an assumption that could end up hurting him.

of course, yoonsung was unaware of your feelings towards him as well, and seeing him seemingly pulling away from you, you subconsciously do the same :(

he doesn't realize just how different he was acting towards you until that moment, and as if his heart took control over his brain, he'd spill all of his feelings for you, doing his best to explain away his behavior.

and it worked - who could stay mad at him for too long?

⁰⁰⁵ : HAEMIN.

wouldn't realize he liked you until someone pointed it out to him 2/2 💔

everything would be going perfectly fine for haemin,,, until minho jokingly commented about how much he liked you. then that became all he thought about.

begin haemin's internal debate of if he liked you romantically or not! and if it was true (it was), how long? upon actually giving it a lot of thought . . . he's liked you for a while without really processing his feelings effectively.

and now,,, he cannot properly face you!! at least, not in the beginning.

everything hits him so fast and he's forced to process his emotions at a rapid pace now. he does a decent job at hiding his inner turmoil about the topic, but he eventually confides in kyungmin about it (though it wasn't on purpose),, kyungmin just caught him while he was dazed!! totally not like he went to kyungmin stressing about possibly ruining your friendship hahaha . . .

once he was able to fully "recover" and process everything, he's a goner. heart eyes are permanent.

just so absolutely infatuated with everything you do and say. comes around more often and always manages to take the spot next to you if you're with a group of people.

always always always joking around with you because he loves the sound of your laugher and how happy you seem when you smile, especially when you smile because of him.

in a twisted ending, haemin is grateful that minho made him fall into a crisis. if he hadn't, he wouldn't have been able to have these moments with you.

once you end up together, minho rightfully takes full credits for the relationship starting, kyungmin taking credit for helping haemin get over his fear of ruining everything between you two.

so - albeit his disagreement - haemin accepts that they should get some credit for their help.

but how it all came to be doesn't matter much, as long as in the end, he ended up with you.

⁰⁰⁶ : KYUNGMIN.

i'm not usually fond of the trope of someone who brings up the person they like every time they can but,,,, kyungmin does exactly that. his members get so tired of him for it too HELP (he's gotten into the practice of just,, thinking of you instead of verbally bringing you up so often).

his members' anger (/j) doesn't stop him though!! every chance he gets he talks about you,, the only time that stops is when you're around 🧍‍♂️

you BET the members are gonna poke fun at him for that too LMFAO

when you're around, he'd be much more into listening rather than speaking himself.

"platonic" kisses on the backs of your hands. "platonic" hand holding. (nothing about it is platonic).

kyungmin would love love love to rest his head on your shoulder!! whether he's standing behind you while talking with a group of friends or sitting next to each other watching a movie, he just likes the feeling (bonus points if his arm is looped under yours to play with your fingers).

he'd be in his own head a lot,,, daydreaming and such,,, even though you're right next to him 🧍‍♂️

if you were to nudge him while he was like this, he'd look at you with the most love-filled gaze.

he didn't have to say anything to you, just from the way he looked at you and the light blush forming on his cheeks, you knew. the way your stomach filled with butterflies as you held his gaze was also a great indicator that his look meant something more.

it was then when he saw how your gaze changed too - it changed to one that matched his own. with a deep breath, he'd squeeze your hand before a smile spread across his face.

© 8turning 2023.

[clavidy]

guy who is definitely one of your dps mutuals here. you should do at least one of these five or i will throw pebbles at you. any character because i have definitley watched hit film dead poets society 100%.

AHHHHH YAYAYAYY!!

Im just gonna do what I want character-wise bcs you didn't specify but I'll try and do all the ones you asked for!! :DDD

1, appearance hcs:

Knox's teeth are chipped at the front and partially fake, he fell on his face while trying to ride a unicycle and impress a woman.

Meeks has bunny teeth, has had heavy-duty braces for YEARS trying to fix them. He doesn't mind them, actually, but his dentist said that he should and he went along with it. He has a bunch of birthmarks!!

Todd's nose is always a bit red and his lips are always pink. He just permanently looks cold and sickly. His eyes are blue-gray, and he has some slight freckles on his nose.

Neil has the longest, most gorgeous eyelashes known to man and is covered in beauty marks. He's pretty, that's it.

Cam is a daywalker!! While Meeks has a ton of freckles, he has absolutely none. He also used to have braces, but he didn't really need them. He has absolutely perfect teeth now, though. He also, like Charlie, spends a ton of time on his hair every morning. It's the only time they get along.

2, weird quirks:

Todd tends to chew on anything near his mouth unconsciously, but he doesn't really like gum. He overuses lipbalm, specifically mint.

Neil likes to stare into bright lights and follow the spot it creates afterwards. His mother jokes that this quirk of his is the reason he needs reading glasses, and his father's face gets very pinched every time she does.

Pitts drums his fingers on everything. He likes to create little beats with Meeks.

Charlie tends to doodle on everything, whether that be paper, desks, his skin, or his friends', usually his friends'. He often doodles naked women. He's a very bad artist.

3, disabilities:

Meeks has problems with his knee joints and uses forearm crutches on bad days!! He's also very asthmatic

Cam has chronic migraines :(

Spaz is hoh and uses crutches as well on top of his asthma and allergies, the poor guy

Todd is autistic!! (he's just like me fr)

4, love language!!:

Neil is a very touchy person, as he communicates his affection that way, but he personally likes honest conversation and spending quality time with someone the most. His "guilty pleasure" (in his mind) is words of affirmation.

Todd thought himself touch-averse until he met the poets (namely neil) and suddenly, he wanted to be as close to them as possible. He enjoys spending quality time with and doing acts of service for those he loves, and he likes receiving words of affirmation and the same quality time back.

Meeks, Pitts, and Charlie all like giving and receiving physical affection, though Meeks also likes quality time, Pitts likes words of affirmation, and Charlie is... Charlie.

Cam likes words of affirmation and quality time! He's very touch-averse and slow-moving.

Knox is... Knox. He communicates through physical touch and likes receiving words of affirmation in canon, so no hcs for him really.

As for music,, ahh I really can't decide. I mean Meeks and Pitts have a canonical music taste, and Charlie would definitely listen to bowie if he was around in the 50s, but he wasn't, so.

All I can think of is that Charlie would enjoy Elvis purely because of his "lewd" dancing and Cam would feel the exact opposite. Cam would probably listen to popular, safe pretentious white boy music like frank Sinatra and classical hits. I feel most of the other poets would have similar music tastes, as all they really know is the stuff Meeks and Pitts play, but Charlie's rich so he has a bunch of records AND a radio at his house.

[my-fancy-hat]

In the last few chapters I've noticing bits of similarities between some characters and the course of action with part 1 that, well, coming from the same author is kind of expected, but lately they've been more and more explicit and I can't help but think that maybe! there's an intention on mirrowing Denji's current development to part 1's while leading the plot toward the new "bomb girl" arc for part 2.

At first, Denji is introduced in the beggining of a new arc with an internal conflict about himself and/or his place in the world in the dichotomy of what he actually feels about his situation and what he SHOULD feel compared to someone else reaction: Aki's heartbreak for Himeno's death versus Denji's lack of empathy for the loss and the world living as it is in normalcy versus his discomformity about it. This opens a key question that will haunt Denji for the next chapters, looking for an answer capable of content him: "Do I still have a human heart?" and "Nothing beats a normal life?"

In the meantime and uncertainty, Denji is invited to hang out to a cinema date by a person who may are able to understand what afflicts him at the moment and so, influencing him:

In csm cinema is potrayed as a place of reflection and contemplation about life itself, and as Makima bringed on this concept, movies can change one's worldview. At the end of part 1 we discover that all the control devil wanted was to find an equal, to form genuine and equal relationships of mutual care like a family does; this by extention resonates with Denji because, even in his ineptitude to identify these kind of emotional issues due his lack of experience with other people and life in general, is what he wishes as well, connection, aceptance and companionship. This is why the last scene of the last movie touched both of them to the point of tears, as if the big screen did bring back to life and exposed before their eyes their most hidden desire.

On the other hand, one of the main goals Denji had was to achieve a normal life, pushing him foward since chapter 1 to secure it and do what he has missed of life or what he should be doing as a teen of his age. Such want seems not to be unique of Denji because Yoshida has also vocalized (when the oportunity is given) on wanting to know what normalcy is about, tagging along with Denji in multiple occasions, between classes, skipping classes, getting treats and coffee in their way, talking about girls, etc. Going to school, hanging out, a home to return to, good memories of childhood to look back, to have a lovely family and friends, I think is what both wish or wished to have, and so it's projected on screen in a familiar scenario, maybe a callback to the token of part 1 tragedies-accomplishment of this way of living, a little girl that could possibly be Nayuta with her schoolbag, heading to school?

But, where the view was hindered by tears of catharsis, now it is by the corpse of a demon that spattered its blood on the screen. The answers were deliverated, but Denji stills comes to his seatmate for the final confirmation:

...to both of them leaving him alone behind in the realization of this induced epiphany. While with Makima it was a relief, that in fact he has a heart capable of love and care therefore capable of connecting with others, Yoshida leaves a sour taste in Denji's mouth. The normalcy that Denji dreamed of is not what he found; that reality also contemplates loneliness, boredom and disappointment too.

In other parallels that are worth notting are the assignation of a new bodyguard replacement for Denji by Makima and Yoshida to facilitate vigilance and security over him:

And, how Denji's reaction to this isn't that welcoming making him disappointed of their new partner even tho his bodyguards are, in fact, big fans of chainsaw man:

Culminating on, as for now, with the introduction of a "friendly" pretty face hybrid:

With all this I want to make it clear that I do not want to pretend or demostrate that Yoshida = Makima, that sword man will be Denji's new love interest or smth or even worse to compare Beam with Fumiko for have approached Denji without his consent, like, no. These characters are playing similar roles already potrayed by someone else in part 1 now with Denji in part two conserving their own traits and unique issues. I don't know if authors put this much thought on their writting to come up with these kind of things nonetheless I'm so excited how things will play out this time for Denji since, if we follow bomb girls course, Sword man appearance may not hold many good intentions for Denji, explaining why Yoshida assigned Fumiko to protect him in anticipation of this new enemy, just like Makima did against Reze.

EDIT:

hmmm🏴

[nepenthean-sleep]

griddlehark fic recs, part 4

hello and welcome to part 4 which is locked behind a community label because tumblr sucks. as a general rule i do not recommend smut because one person's sexy can be another person's squick and vice versa. nevertheless: i have some M and E rated fic recs (not all of them are smut, btw). please remember to check the tags before reading a fic.

with that being said: this fandom has some incredible writers and i'm very happy to share the below fics with you guys. tumblr usernames have been added if i could find them (sorry for the notification!). here is part 1, part 2, and part 3.

Flinch M - InverseAlchemist oneshot set after the pool scene in gtn. a beautifully written fic in which gideon and harrow share a bed for warmth (a classic) and harrow spirals a bit about it. there is so much longing.

So Familiar a Gleam E - silverapples short oneshot, harrow nova au featuring kiriona gaia. nova has a dream about kiriona and its just as disconcerting and interesting as you’d think.

turn you inside out (lick you like a crisp packet) E - valancytrinit / @valancietrinit long oneshot, modern au. a first of many wonderful fics from one of the best griddlehark writers in the fandom. gideon and harrow are roommates and gideon has a really bad 48 hours that culminates in a really good morning. this fic is an excellent balance of chaotic and angsty and sweet.

knife to a gunfight E - dryrsheet two chapter modern au. they were roommates! they were roommates sharing a bed! gideon is extremely oblivious in this one and the irony is delicious. also has one of the lines of all time:

“Okay,” Gideon said, “I need you to act like I am actually as stupid as you pretend to think I am and explain why in the fuck you want me to do that.”

hand to heart i swear M - corpsesoldier / @corpsesoldier short oneshot. harrow heals gideon’s stigmata. i very badly want this to be a thing in alecto, but i am happy with this fic version right now. this fic is superb and i love everything about it.

you're still the one pool where i'd happily drown E - valancytrinit / @valancietrinit long post-ntn speculative multi-chapter, completed. i love everything about this fic. i was literally hanging on every word when i read each chapter for the first time. the writing is incredible. there is a shower scene that is legitimately fucking shakespearean. additionally, i absolutely love the way that harrow’s mental health is portrayed in this fic as someone who struggles with similar conditions.

illbringthestrap69420 liked your post E - imalwaysstraight / @nooomagnus long multi-chapter college/uni au, currently unfinished. the enemies to anonymous tumblr mutuals to lovers fic. listen. this fic is an incredible experience for dramatic irony enjoyers. this fic is like dramatic irony: the fic. i love this fic so fucking much. another fic that has kept me on the edge of my seat while reading.

Bid My Blood to Run M - winterkill / @thebrimmingheart short oneshot. another fic where harrow heals gideon’s stigmata! the banter in this fic is wonderful. again, i really hope there's a scene like this in atn.

Let Me Hold It Lightly M - downjune / @itstartledme short oneshot set during htn. a classic ‘harrow sees gideon in her dreams’ situation. very tender and bittersweet.

Wormian E - BonesforTime long oneshot, postcanon au/spec. harrow works through some religious trauma. ok full disclosure: my favorite thing about this fic is the way it’s written. when i first read it, the prose had me completely fucking bewitched. the fic gets more speculative towards the end, and as it was written pre-ntn there’s some pretty big discrepancies with current canon. regardless, the fic itself is extremely well written and compelling.

east of the sun, west of the moon E - zealotarchaeologist short oneshot set during htn. another dream situation, this time featuring harrianthe and harrow/the body. the writing here is exquisite.

let's drink to feelings of temptation not rated - overnights / @televangelists long oneshot, modern bartending au. gideon gets hired at camilla’s bar and harrow is not having it. there’s women who hate each other. there’s customer service shenanigans. there’s ianthe in a grocery store. it’s a very solid modern au.

Mors Vincit Omnia M - WalkingDisaster / @four-for-fidelity long multi-chapter modern au, currently unfinished. a murder mystery where gideon is a witness in an investigation and has to assist forensic scientist harrow. it’s really well written and the mystery is very fun and macabre! it is currently unfinished but i am excited to see where the plot goes.

grab me by my ankles (i've been flying for too long) E - valancytrinit / @valancietrinit long oneshot, college/uni au. harrow is a competitive diver and gideon is a mechanic who ends up carpooling harrow to diving practice. there is a truly astounding amount of dyke drama going on here and it is excellent. the dialogue is incredible as well.

[raayllum]

I honestly can't imagine Rayla not dooming the world for Callum if the situation required it. She literally called going to dark places an "act of love."

I mean, there's a few things:

The opinions of anyone working on the show (cast, crew, etc.) are not gospel and not the default, nor do they need to be treated as the be all end all. You can disagree and that's more than gouda

People will give misleading answers and/or answers that are true in the moment (i.e. would S5 Rayla doom the world for him? Maybe not. Would S6 Rayla after some development? If the answer's yes, that's gotta stay under wraps) to avoid potential spoilers

I was actually honestly pretty surprised 1) someone asked such a direct question and 2) even more surprised that it got directly answered, since it feels like it could skirt into spoilery territory potentially for next season given the possession plot line. (I was personally gunning for a "what do you think Rayla and Claudia would think of Callum's S5 dark magic use, if they knew?")

I will admit Paula's response was, admittedly, what I've leaned to for Rayla as a whole in terms of that World vs Loved One binary. One of the things that makes Ezran and Rayla interesting to me was the uncertainty of "would they risk [insert thing here] for their immediate circle of loved ones" routinely being a "I don't know." Not that they necessarily 100% wouldn't, but just that I was genuinely 50-50 split on whether they would, or leaned towards No or Yes but could see the other way being plausible too. That uncertainty paired with the certainty I had that Callum would, and that contrast, has always been one of my favourite things about the Trio as a unit and Rayllum as a duo. It's one of the reasons that Heart vs Duty conflict for Rayla as a character has always been so compelling to me and why 4x07's introduction of the "You have to kill me" conflict was so (and is) exciting!!

But I digress.

I don't think that Rayla's letter is the best example of what I think you're trying to illustrate (I'll raise something I think that is perhaps more indicative in a moment) purely because the whole reason Rayla ultimately left was to protect the world. I've talked about this before in my "Priorities in Through the Moon" meta from ages ago, but Rayla does not go into the portal because she's primarily concerned about finding her parents. Callum researches the portal and helps recreate it and his whole side of things because he wants to help her with her parents, even being the one who brings them up when they resolve to go ahead. Rayla's concerned primarily with Viren, stating her reason for going into the portal even after finding out it requires facing water:

"Listen, Callum. Soren was worried about Viren too. Worried that we never found his body. We need to know what happened to Viren. He's a threat to the whole world! This might be the only way to be sure he's actually gone."

This is in line with how Rayla operates and references her parents in her letter to Callum, given her goodbye exchange for her parents:

Rayla: Surprised you even noticed, considering you've got more important things to do. Lain: Nothing is more important than our favourite child. Rayla: I'm your only child, and you're still leaving me behind for the Dragonguard. Tiadrin: We have to leave, Rayla. For you and for all the other Moonshadow children as well [...] This is our duty that we're doing for Xadia. For you. Someday, I hope you see that.

Just as trust and love are not necessarily synonyms to her, duty and love are not necessarily exclusives. Her parents left out of love for her and for the world, even if that meant prioritizing the world over her in the immediacy of their choice. Rayla leaves to go kill Viren out of a similar mutual desire to protect Callum, yes, but that's mostly there in the fact she left alone and didn't want him to stop her. Not necessarily that she went to hunt down Viren in and of itself, but that she went by herself ("I was trying to protect him. I knew I had to be strong alone"). Protecting the world - and a Viren-less world being one Callum would be safer in by proxy - was worth blowing up her relationships to her.

Going to dark places wasn't what she was doing just to protect Callum - that played a part, too, but her primary goal was to hunt down Viren (going to said dark place) alone and by leaving Callum behind, hence the "Stay safe, and stay in the light. Don't look for me, and don't follow me" - a sacrifice she was making on her own so that Callum wouldn't have to, but still for a collective cause that she deemed meaningful: "I have to make sure Viren never hurts anyone ever again." (Which is also why she goes after Viren again in 4x09, tbh)

That doesn't mean leaving in TTM wasn't also an errorful, self-destructive choice to leave (see like every other TTM meta I've written) but that the goals she could conceptualize was to protect the world, full stop. Anything else along the way (getting closure with her parents, protecting Callum) were extra stops and bonuses to help her have the courage to go through with it, maybe.

This is also in line with how we see Rayla treat other scenarios where it's a choice between individuals / individual relationships vs the potential to help or harm the greater good

Prioritizing the world / new mission of stopping the assassination mission > her relationship with Runaan ("This is a miracle, a chance for peace!") in 1x03

Being willing to and convincing Callum to let Ezran search for the egg under the ice in 1x06

"Then it's time to go. War's coming like the world's never seen, unless we get the wee dragon home to his mom" (2x01)

"Callum, I know you trust them, but by the time we know the truth, it'll be too late. Do you understand? We'll lose everything" (2x03)

"So please, allow him to pass into Xadia and help bring the Dragon Prince home. Because I don't think I can do it without him" (3x01)

Do I even need to specify 3x09? Or TTM?

"I hate it too, but we have to keep moving [...] We can't save everyone, Soren. There's too much at stake. I'm leaving, and you better be right behind me" (4x05)

"If I threw the coins in the lava, would it release their spirits? Or would they just be trapped in some of eternal burning agony? Let's trade. You let him go, and I'll give you the coins." "I'm not making a deal with you!" (4x09)

"I love you, and I haven't forgotten about you. But I can't help you yet. Because right now, the world needs me. Callum and Ezran need. There's a great evil trying to return to Xadia, and we have to stop it, at any cost" (5x01)

"It hurts me to know they're trapped like this. It's agonizing. But I know our mission comes first. The world is in danger, and you can trust me to stay focused" (5x04)

This is, arguably, the strongest core trait she has in common with Viren, just for the record, especially in arc 1. He's very greater good centric as well, just with the push of his own ego and thirst for power + he only considers humanity's concerns, whereas Rayla has minimal pride and arguably not enough ego, and she wants to improve situations for everybody on a collective scale post-1x02 onwards.

The exceptions to this consistent behaviour is largely 2x07 and 3x08, which I've talked about more in my Dragon Quartet meta (from Dec 2019 good god??). These are arguably two of the times, in addition to TTM in some ways, where Rayla is operating the most out of her emotional core ("My allegiance is to my heart" —Tales of Xadia) and what feels 'right' on that level. For better or for worse.

"That dragon was defenceless, and I just left there." / "So I have to stay, and defend the Dragon Queen."

I say Rayla is at her most emotional largely because in each scenario she's abandoning the mission of keeping Zym safe (and thereby her own identified "world's best hope" for peace) in favour of protecting a different individual dragon. This seems to go completely against the "mission first" if indeed, like in 1x03, Rayla can abandon one mission she's devoted herself to in favour of another one just like that [snaps fingers]. If she cares about the world first, why prioritize these individuals, neither of whom she particularly knows or personally cares about? BH also spells this out for us, since it's likewise a mirror to her offering to go up into the tower with Callum to defend Harrow even though the egg should technically be her first priority:

But to Runaan and those like your parents, love is rooted in all families, all creatures. Souls like that feel called to protect everyone as fiercely as those they hold close.

In 2x07, Rayla is at her best, if least logical, whereas in 3x08 she is at worst (until arguably S4) and likewise her least logical ("I know you feel guilty, but you're not thinking straight"). In each scenario the boys stand a Much better chance of survival and of accomplishing their mission with her from just an objective point of view (they don't know Xadia's terrain at that point and circa 2x07, neither could really be combatants in a fight since Callum didn't have a weapon or primal magic). We could slap an easy "you're being a dumbass and dooming the world" label on it and be done with it. But not only does Rayla think the boys are fully capable of completing their mission without her ("I believe in you") but 'the world' as a stake never enters her mind.

Instead, Rayla looks at each as an individual last stand where the only neck on the chopping block is ('rightfully') hers. Whether she's right or not to do so regardless of how she frames it is debatable (I personally view it as understandable, admirable, but more than a little short sighted or guilt ridden considering The Stakes), but that very much seems to be the thought process.

She's not risking the world, in her mind. All she's risking is herself.

And that's perfectly acceptable to her as a trade off. It always has been. It's one of the perfect kind of microcosms of the cognitive dissonance she lives under, where why should she care about herself when there's bigger fish to fry ("Don't worry about my hand; the egg is all that matters now") ignoring the fact that 1) she can & arguably should let herself care about two things at once and 2) she's going to be much less effective as a team member / dual wielder if she's recovering from a messy at best recent amputation.

This path of "Rayla works to save Callum because she doesn't care about what happens to herself" is admittedly probably the option I leaned towards most when it comes to Rayla in S6, even if I do wonder how it might be streamlined time / arc wise cause it does elongate her arc further. Either way, this is the route that lets her not kill Callum, working free him instead while also being able to justify trying to free him to herself, because she's not conceptualizing the Big Picture. She's narrowing it down to him and her and deciding if one of them has to get hurt in order for him to be freed, it's gonna be her.

It's not the Character Development route as I call it, but it sure is consistent.

TLDR; While I still lean towards Rayla having an ultimately positive impact (i.e. breaking Callum free from potential brainwashing) in s6, it would not surprise me at all if from her perspective it is framed as a self-sacrificial move on her end > a big picture risk to the world, even if that's how Callum may see it.

More thoughts on Rayla + the possession plotline in S6 here, here, and here.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for venting?

(Couldn’t think of a better title I’m sorry/TW for talk of suicide)

Alright so a bit of backstory. I (15M) have a younger sibling who I’ll call L (13NB). L has a friend group that I kinda got sucked into consisting of V (13NB) and N (13M) (& another few people who weren’t as involved and I haven’t talked to much/at all). So the group was recently in quite a lot of drama that I for the most part won’t get into because it isn’t relevant & I want to maintain as much anonymity as possible but 4 important details are:

1.There is a group chat that the 4 of us are one (that I ended up muting for my own sanity)

The drama was mostly between V and N

L mostly took N’s side and I was mostly on V’s

I thought the drama was (for the most part) the stupidest thing ever (specifically in terms of the topic vs the reaction)

Now here’s the part where I might be TA. I was getting sick of the constant fighting and it got to a point where I was being dragged into it more. Partially for a small thing that I understand I shouldn’t have done but mainly for something that both then and now while I 100% do not regret. Now I’ve typed this sentence a million times trying to find a way to say what I did vaguely but all of it just kinda makes me seem like an AH for the thing I’m not even asking about so I’ll just say what they were mad at me for. Earlier in the drama N sent a post to the group chat basically saying “Fuck you. This situation is so stressful for me and I’m going to kill myself or at least try” which caused me (who has a history of seriously suicidal friends & suicidality myself) to have a panic attack and text & call his mom (who from what I’d seen & heard was pretty understanding of that sort of thing) at 10PM about it (keep in mind I had a similar thing happen to me a couple years ago except I was the one who’s mom was being called in the middle of the night mid panic attack). I didn’t want anyone to know who told her because I didn’t want to make the drama worse but a few days later I let slip to L that I was the one who told and they told N from there. (sorry that wasn’t really relevant but I couldn’t think of a shorter way to say it.) Anyway, back to what actually happened. I got fed up with them and vented at first to a few tumblr mutuals (no names or accounts were mentioned and it was all to people who didn’t know them) and then when it got worse I made a post about it, first making sure to block N (L doesn’t use tumblr and in retrospect I should’ve blocked V too but I didn’t think it was necessary because IDK they were the ones being yelled at/made fun of/whatever by L and N) and again, didn’t mention any names or urls, just stuff that was said in the group chat. Anyway V ended up showing L and N the posts and they got pretty mad (which TBF I understand) and long story short after yelling in the group chat I wasn’t paying much attention to both of them at different times ended up talking to me on PMs and they both apologized to me/I apologized to them and whatnot and this post is ABSOLUTELY NOT about calling anyone TA for anything except what I’m specifically asking. What I’m asking is AITA for talking to those people and making those posts? I wasn’t doing it to spread rumors or to vaguepost (if I was I wouldn’t have taken the care to make sure they didn’t see it and no one knew who they were) I was doing it because I was pissed and seriously felt like I was going insane, but also I do understand why they’re mad. So AITA?

PS: if you think you might be one of the people involved here I just want to make it clear I’m not doing this to start or continue anything. I’m just doing this because I’m curious about whether I’m in the wrong objectively for this specific thing. When I said I hated drama and it takes a serious toll on me I meant it, I really just want this situation over and would rather it not start up again because of a post (which is why I’m sending this on AITA and not making a normal blog post). Also sorry everybody for the bad formatting 😅

What are these acronyms?

[allyricas]

oh my god i could write a whole fucking essay on why both jon x nancy and steve x nancy should not be endgame! and it's not about disliking any one of them, rather seeing the various reasons each pair shouldn't stay together.

okay, come here: jon and nancy are very cute together. they have a lot of undeniable chemistry and similar interests and goals at the start of season 1. it's pretty clear that despite being with steve, nancy is attracted to, or at least intrigued by, jonathan from the start. he fucking took inappropriate pictures of her and she was not offended.

(we could argue this is because the duffer bros are men thus do not really understand how a teenage girl would react to this but that's a rant for another day)

i think jon and nancy are right-person-wrong time-terrible situation. despite the mutual attraction during season 1, they truly fall for each other during all the drama of will being possessed and the mind flayer. there is genuine love, but also trauma bonding.

the issue arises in the core of who they are and what they want out of life. nancy does not understand jonathan very well. jonathan does get her, i think, but doesn't necessarily like her priority on her career. we see this with the whole newspaper dilemma/argument. nancy is headstrong and determined, both good qualities, but she struggles to see how it could affect others at times.

jonathan might feel pressured to take care of will and stick by his family, but he cannot bear to lose them either. he needs will and his mom close after everything that's happened over the years. this means the idea of going away to college sounds terrifying to him at this point in his life. i also think the way he met argyle and went stoner boy is a huge relief for him. he can relax and get high, but wants to be with his family.

oh, but nancy. nancy wheeler. for all that she seems dainty and soft, she is truly a fucking badass. she is not afraid to fight for what she wants or what she believes in. she sees her traditional, nuclear family and she wants so much more. she wants a successful career. she wants to investigate and know the truth. she does not want to be in hawkins. she wants to rise above what society says a girl can be.

she doesn't want to break the glass ceiling, she wants to fucking shatter it. she is nearly cutthroat in her pursuit of what she wants and thinks is right.

she lost her best friend on the night she was losing her virginity to a boy she didn't love. i do not think nancy loved steve, sorry. i think she wanted to and thought she was supposed to but didn't. and this is not meant in a derogatory way towards nancy. she never had to love steve.

so I think there is an element to nancy where she feels she needs to be in a relationship because she's supposed to be, it's what girls should want. she should be jealous of robin because steve used to be her boyfriend. she should stress over her relationship with jon even though he's in california.

i think it's why we see her side of the weird energy with steve in season 4. she is very analytical with things, and she's considering what she is supposed to want, not necessarily what she actually wants which very well could be neither of the boys if she was honest with herself.

nancy needs a partner who is okay with her prioritizing her career, who has their own career, and is okay with needing personal space and not necessarily wanting a family. someone who understands nancy's desires and dreams, recognizes how she needs to find the story and investigate and reveal the truth, that she will do whatever it takes to be successful and she deserves to! that she can have all this and love, but that it won't look like what society said was acceptable for a women in that time.

nancy would be so, so unhappy with steve. she was unhappy with him the first time they dated. she stuck it out it because it felt like a slap in the face to losing barb if it didn't work. but nancy knew deep down it was bullshit. she might have drunkenly spewed those words to steve, but they were just as much about her.

so yeah, nancy and jon without all the trauma, could have been happy. and who knows, maybe in the future they could work out. nancy and steve, trauma or no trauma, would not work. he straight up said he wants a big family. he wants the house, the kids, and a partner to come home to. that is a nightmare for nance. her face said it all in the rv.

“It’s silly but I always had this dream that I’d have this really big family. I’m talking like a full brood of Harringtons, like five, six kids. And every summer I figured all of us Harringtons, we would pack into something like this and just see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. End up in some beachside town in California, spend a week parked in the sand. Learn how to surf or something.”

we can argue whether steve's parents are just a little absent or like fully negligent assholes but either way, he wants what he didn't have. wants to create his own family and do it the right way. he wants a big family with lots of people to nurture and love. i don't even think nancy would necessarily want to take her spouse's last name whereas steve would very much want that.

steve's desire for family is intrinsic to who he is. it's why he carts around dustin and the kids. why he worries for them and throws himself into danger for them despite barely knowing them in season 2. it's why robin made her way into his heart so easily. steve wants to be loved, wants to be needed and does want to love others in return.

he may not seem to have big aspirations in terms of college or a career but what he does aspire to is just as important as any other dream.

it's interesting that he doesn't just say he wants a big family but instead, makes sure to emphasize that he wants a big family that are close and spent time together. he wants to cram the whole gang in a damn winnebago and travel together. his dream is no less important than nancy's but it is totally incompatible.

i think steve regressed in season 4 because he was scared. the idea of fighting vecna and not having someone to love romantically made steve fall back on his old feelings for nancy. because steve said himself he was over her. he'd been dating. actively trying to find someone.

it was the circumstance that led to the weirdness between them.

if you follow me, then you know steve harrington is like my ride or die. i think he's maybe my favorite character of all time. so true, i do not want to see him with someone who called him bullshit and was obviously moving on emotionally with another guy while still dating steve.

(i personally don't think she cheated on him, but considered that moment the break up. even if it she did cheat on him, i love nancy. she was a teenager who'd lost her best friend and was dealing with a ton of shit and it doesn't make her bad even if she had cheated.)

all three deserve happy endings that suit who they are and where they are it. i really hope that we get to see that reflected in vol. 5.