#ok. on the real. do i need to be reading this

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[doitforbangchan]

Hey honey bun! I know you’re not taking requests right now but I just can’t get over Seungminnie in ABANB😩 I’ve read fics where he was “mean” but nothing has really giving me what he did in it😅

Could you, when you can give us a little short fic of him & baby? If not that’s fine.

ok ok, i have also been craving abanb minnie! thank you for reading nonnie 😘

ABANB drabble 03

‘ I will love you for all eternity, my beloved gem.’

‘And I, you my lord.’ The maiden breathed harshly as she professed her love to the knight. But alas she knew she could never be with her handsome knight for it was forbid-

Suddenly the book was yanked out of your hands, just as it was getting good too!

“What are you reading, puppy?” Seungmin laughed at your surprised face. You had been so engrossed in your book you didn’t even notice him enter the room. He looked at the cover and raised his brow, “ ‘A Knight to remember’, huh? What kind of sappy shit is this?” The beta began to flip through the pages.

“Minnniieee noooo I don’t have it bookmarked and I don’t know what page I’m on!” You whined, leaping out of your seat on recliner and attempting to grab your book from him.

He only laughed harder and held the book over your head. Seungmin tilted his head up to read some random exert off the pages while you still jumped up trying to reach it.

“ Ooohh I get it, this is a naughty book. ‘The knight crooked his thick, rough appendages inside the slicked cavern of the maiden until he touched her most delicate spot’, I didn’t know you were into this kinda thing puppy.” He snickered.

You gave him a pout, jutting your lip out and crossing your arms, trying to ignore the way your face heated up at his teasing (and at having been caught reading a smutty book).

“It’s just a story..” you mumbled, “doesn’t mean I’m into anything.”

“Don’t pretend with me, little omega. I know just how dirty you can get. Do I need to remind you what you let me do to you last night?” Minnie smirked at how you gulped as you remembered how sore you were this morning.

“No, I remember well enough.” You grabbed the book from out of his hands when he lowered it. “I still can’t walk straight.”

“You’re welcome.” The beta grinned, cackling when you hit him lightly with the book. “Bad dog, that’s not how you treat someone who has a present for you.”

“A present for me?” You asked cautiously.

He nodded, “yeah. What, did you think I came in here just to bother you for no reason?”

“Yes.” You deadpanned.

Seungmin put a hand on his heart in mock hurt, “You wound me baby. No but for real I have something for you.”

He held out a hand for you to take and you did, putting your smaller one in his. The beta led you up to his room and closed the door behind him.

“Ok, close your eyes.” You could hear the smirk on his voice but you did as he asked anyway. There was a slight rustling then you felt something wrap gently around your neck. “There you go, now you look like a real puppy.”

You opened your eyes and reached up to feel that he had placed a choker on your neck. Looking in the mirror it was a thick corded band that was dark pink and it had a little pendant hanging from the front. And it had the name ‘baby’ etched into it.

“you.. you actually got me a collar?”

He shrugged, now feeling slightly nervous that this was a bad idea. That was until you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his skin, inhaling his petrichor scent.

“Do you like it?”

You nodded, trying not to cry. It was a sweet gesture even if it was a little.. possessive. “I do. thank you Mongie!”

He groaned, “ughhh don’t call me that!” But the pink dusting his cheeks told you he secretly liked it.

You giggled and wiped away your tears, “I love it. thank you minnie. And i love you.” You placed a kiss on his lips, squealing when his teeth nipped at yours playfully.

“I love you too, baby. so much. Also you were on page 212. Just so you know. ”

You smiled with hearts in your eyes at him, making him want to look away in embarrassment. You looked back in the mirror and looked closer at the ‘collar’. It was cute, and no one would suspect the intention behind it unless you told them. At least that’s that you thought until you looked at the back side of the pendant.

“Seungmin.. Did you seriously put your name and number on the opposite side?!”

[zith-ipeth]

Tough afternoons and big problem solving (Dog Days 8)

Many blessings to yall

Today was, strange, I havnt cried like sad tears at college yet, but this week did it for me. I was thinking a lot and realizing that, while I say it often, I never really had to live in the real world. I had a really traumatizing experience in middle school, (zith lore drop ooooh.) and also started getting dysphoria. I spent highschool recovering from that trauma and alleviating my dysphoria. While I graduated with ok grades, I was running on autopilot, and of greatest importance…

I never learned how to do the small things

Because of my trauma and my recovery, because of my politics and my identity, I’ve become amazing at solving and working on these big, massive problems, to the point where I can’t even start work on small ones.

Tell me to figure out the way life could evolve on an exoplanet? Ofc I’m your gal, I don’t know a lot right now but I’ll figure it out! Tell me to write a two paragraph explanation of how the planet was discovered and who discovered it? Boom I’m out cold dead on the floor.

Today was a lot of the second, and college has been that in general, I’ll be thinking these massive thoughts about violence and ethics and radical action vs assimilation, and then I have to like, go do a reading about what an intersectionality is and write a paragraph about it. Like I could go off about intersectionality, especially in the communities I’m a part of, for hours, but like god forbid you make me summarize a chapter.

I know this page is a lot of positivity, but sometimes stuff does get rough. Days arnt just the good parts, but I had some good moments today. I got to talk to my women and gender studies professor about therianthropy (she’s such an ally and said I should do more research and make it a project) I got to wear maybe my new favorite outfit! Lots of good talks and a nice walk down to the water!

Sometimes things are sad and bummers, even for me, the biggest “light at the end of the tunnel” enjoyed

Stay strong silly creatures, and I’ll keep fighting! Even if school is hard, by the time I’m done with college, I’ll be able to project my howling even further, and reach the ears of those who need my help the most!

Sorry for the long post! I’ll be keeping it shorter in the future! Lots to say!

Run fast, bite hard, bark loud

Peace, love, and gratitude

-Zith Ipeth

[blindmagdalena]

Ok so binge read anon here again. My last ask got me thinking….. in Gilded Cage he’s already memorized her heartbeat. So I’m just imagining he’s out one day (rally, patrolling,something where he’s in front of a crowd) and senses Y/N’s heart rate increases dramatically. At first he’s likes like “oh? I wonder if she’s thinking about me 😌”. At this point I imagine he’s already told her his really name so he’s feeling giddy. However he can tell there’s a sense of fear with her heartbeat so he immediately worries.

Context is maybe Madelyn or someone came into the apartment uninvited and came across Y/N. Madelyn isn’t impressed with Y/N and tells her she’s not good enough and threatens to get rid of her. Idk maybe things get violent, Y/N gets put in a headlock so she’s like “John,John please come back, I need your help”. He hears and immediately flies home and sees what’s going on. Angry, he handles everything however he sees just. Y/N is visibly shaking upset and bruised, so he tries to calm her down with a nice warm bath that involves lots of protective cuddling and hair washing 🥰 and then she falls asleep against John in the bath who is of course ELATED

okay. first of all... i need you to know i'm genuinely in REAL TEARS from laughing so hard at the mental image of madelyn putting anyone in a headlock. chasing the reader around like a WWE cage match.

“OHHH MY GOD INCOMING MADELYN! MADELYN WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!!”

i'm not even kidding my stomach hurts i'm sobbing. this is the best thing i've ever been sent. this sounds like a dream homelander would have after he felt like he fucked up telling madelyn about the reader.

THAT aside, i do very much fuck with the idea of Something Scary happening that causes the reader to be freaked out and require much love and attention. especially because it means homelander finally gets to be the hero he sees himself as in their eyes.

i freaking LOVE the comforting bath. i think i've ended at least 3 fics with a bath. there's just something so supremely intimate about bathing with your lover!!! washing their hair and soothing their frayed nerves. aaahhh, this fic just keeps getting longer the more ideas i get. i've already bumped it up from 6 chapters to 8... might be 10 at this rate!

[gofishygo]

mito mito mito hihi 😋

i’ve been having some thoughts n i felt like sharing w the class newayssss

so i was having bubble tea earlier and i started thinking,,,,what cod characters would like it? i feel like price def wouldn’t,,simon wouldn’t mind it but he does def think its too sweet and proper tea is superior and blah blah blah (i acc don’t know im kinda divided on that like i hc him as a sweet tooth but bubble tea,,,ehhh i feel like he wouldn’t like it all that much like he’d be all grumbly about it,,, idfk

johnny and gaz i think would like it lots ,,

i also think alex wouldn’t like it abd farah would (i js like hc farah as this secret softie ok leave me alone 😞)

but THAT got me thinking,,,, what other food preferences would they have ?? i think gaz would rlly like sushi (saw a fan art of him on a sushi date w the reader and i forgot who made it but ):$/:)/&!:!!!!! it was so cute) and i also think gaz would handle spicy food well ?? and he would like seafood in general methinks (tryna think of some select seafood items he wouldn’t like but im drawing a blank bc im vegetarian shusbssjnsuen)

idrk ab simon and johnny and price,,,,,,out of them 3, i feel like simon or johnny would have the biggest sweet tooth (they’re on like completely dif ends of the spectrum character wise but shh i js know it) but they all eat A SHIT TON like the food could be burned or too salty or smth but if they’ve js come back from a mission then they’re eating that shit UP. and asking for seconds. and thirds. they would still give u food feedback if it’s some other day tho

also johnny is extremely passionate about haggis. no i have never tried it yes i js know he is ok moving on

KONIGGGG hmmmm,,,, i have no fucking idea lmao i think? a lot of german cusine involves bread and stuff,,,so……………i think he’d have rlly bland meals idk

i’ve been rlly into keegan lately but i cant come up w anything for him aaaa

also gaz would be the only one who knows how to use chopsticks. the others would learn fast being in the military and all but gaz and chopstick skills js make sense???

ANYWAY im soso sry for rambling sm lmao this is a lot of words,,,,,and this isn’t a req by any means !!! js needed to hear ur thoughts bc food is js calling to me like “ok but would blank character like this” like. urgh. ok im done now i think but yeah food preferences for cod characters of ur choice

ALSO !!! THE IOS SHARK STICKERS REMIND ME OF U,,,,,look at them$:!!;&:!3 OK IM ACC DONE NOW BYE BEY MITO HIPE U DONT FALL ASLEPE READING ALL THAT

AHHH hi weebun !! ^^ i was literally having bubble tea with my sister like a few hours ago and when i checked the inbox n saw this i BOLTED !! sorry for never responding to this, i forgot inbox existed..,

notes: shittily wrote as this as a warmup/just general yap :> sorry for messiness and incoordination.., platonic, no warnings !! unless ur lactose intolerant idk

so you'll be jus chillin w the 141 on base and then say something like "boba is absolute gas shits better than normal tea" and of course, since the majority of the taskforce is british, you get absolutely fucking jumped for it. like- keep in mind, you say this price, the NUMBER ONE TEA AND BISCUTS DEFENDER, so you do end up getting toilet duty for a week with the explanation of 'uncordial behaviour.'

but after your deployment, you are the one to arrange where the 141 meet up. it's a little ritual you guys have developed to stay connected in between missions, one that makes your friendship seem a bit more real. sometimes the only thing that keeps your eyes open and heart pumping. and since you're an absolute fucking menace, you ask if you can meet around the heart of london- and then drag them all into the nearest bubble tea store you can.

-

price... doesn't end up liking it. takes a total of two sips, nearly chokes on the pearls, and then sets the cup down. he claims he's been around long enough to know that this- like many other foods, is probably some 'trendy millennial bullshit that'll disappear in a solid few', but that doesn't help ease the insane side eye that he gets from the cashier.

but to your surprise, ghost seems somewhat okay with it. his face doesnt really change (from what you can tell- his mouth is still hidden due to some face mask he put on), but he seems neutral, relaxed, even. he mutters something along the lines of how it isn't too bad, but it doesn't beat a cuppa- to which you chose to ignore, and how he'll probably just stick to having an earl grey in the mornings. but a few months later, you catch him at the same boba store, and you cant help but giggle to yourself.

soap fucking inhales the drink. its genuinely concerning, to say the very least. he seems to like.. unhinge his jaw like some kind of snake, and then inhales the whole drink in what you think is a millisecond. and since he's the only scotsman on the team- thinks the whole 'tea n biscuits' ritual his colleagues have is utter stupidity, so not only does he now FREQUENTLY drink boba because he likes it- he also drinks out of utter spite.

gaz is the only one with a seemingly respectable opinion about boba, unfortunately. he's had it before, multiple times- it appeals to his sweet tooth and is the occasional treat after long missions. but unlike you, gaz does not value peace, and seems to keep egging soap on in chugging unreasonable amounts of the drink. (and he doesnt mention it, as he does not want to face the same punishment as you did, but he thinks that bubble tea is sometimes, just sometimes better than his cuppa.)

masterlist (some of my other stuff is better promise)

[anachronismstellar]

OK OK OK I NEED TO SLEEP BUT

in celebration of @notsofrozt teasing art

(omg omg check this out ITS SO GOOL),

AND this fic reaching 35 pages (someone save me) here's more Airplane vs The System!

Let the games begin >:)

---

There was only one thing Shen Yuan hated more than being considered stupid and it was actually acting stupid.

Because why, WHY haven't they checked the bane of their existence, the persona non grata of binary code, the absolute most devilish collection of pixels and fuckery, aka the System?

It was right there, the notification blinking in green, marking it as a mission in progress.

He clicked, actually expecting more trouble on top of the Mobei business, only to be presented with-

Mission in progress: Author's favorite.

UV002 objective: aid UV001

Mission progress: 47%

What. The fuck.

He hadn't accepted any new missions, there wasn't even an obnoxious notification! And what's up with his objective?! Aid UV001?! How?! It didn't give him any other hint of what to do!

Oh he wasn't just angry, he was furious.

To the point that he had almost torn the door off its track when he opened it, the noise loud enough to startle Shang Qinghua into throwing his brush at him.

As if that would help against a real attack.

“Have you seen the new mission?!” He snapped as he entered Shang Qinghua's improvised office, glaring at the other trasmigrator.

“W-What?” Shang Qinghua blinked like a deer in the headlights, eyes puffed red as if had been crying moments ago.

Shan Yuan swallowed his pity, hardening his heart to focus on the task at hand. He closed the door to buy himself time before approaching the desk covered in parchment, slowly putting both hands on top of it to get closer to Airplane.

“Have you seen,” he pitched his voice low so they wouldn't be heard, doing his utmost to convey his fury through whispering. “The new. Mission.”

“Uh,” Airplane blinked again, scrubbing tears away, looking as lost as a puppy dropped from the moving truck. “Cucumber-bro-”

“Don't! You Cucumber-bro me,” he held himself back, closing his eyes to not lose his temper. “We're going to talk about your murderous ways later. Right now I need you to shut up and check. Your. System.”

He could see Airplane about to ask why, but his expression might have been terrifying enough because he just nodded and opened up his system, immediately frowning.

“What the fuck?”

“What? What is it?” Shen Yuan moved to get next to Airplane to better read what he was seeing. It never failed to amuse him how different their systems were: his looked like a proper video game menu, while Airplane's just looked like a lazy programmed blog.

“There's stuff missing. And I can't click on any missions. Like, I could at least check my old stuff? But now it's all gray?!”

“What do you mean?” At this point he was almost putting his face next to Airplane's so he could see, the bland white screen making his eyes burn. “Urgh how can you stand this, can't you change to dark mode? And go check for new missions.”

“As if, your system is way nicer than mine. Wait, do you have a new mission?”

“Yeah, it's called Author's Favorite. But it says nothing, just to help UV001. It's your user, right?”

-------

See you guys in the next update!

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Grew in my heart

Heres part 2! Part 1 is linked here.

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

“Is he ever gonna wake up?”

When Pony wakes it’s to a not hushed enough whisper. 

“Course he is dumbass,” that whisper is a lot quieter, “but he’s little and he’s hurt, he’s real tired.”

“He was fine earlier.”

“He was overwhelmed,” the voice corrects, “he was bound to crash sooner or later.”

Ponyboy blinks his eyes open. Soda, Darry, and Johnny are all in a line in chairs watching him, but they quickly pretend to be busy. Doing what, he isn’t sure. He already caught them looking.

“There’s those darling eyes,” Mrs.Curtis’ voice is soft as she smiles down at him, “how did you sleep, honey?”

“Good.” He mumbles through a yawn, somehow still tired, more cozy than he can ever remember being. Somehow though, he still finds himself shy again, and he hides his face in her shoulder until she laughs, peppering his head with kisses and squeezing him gently, coaxing him out of the fabric. He lets himself enjoy it. It won’t last, he knows, but he can let himself pretend, have some good memories to hold close to his chest when he ends up alone tonight in a stranger's house, on a lumpy sofa in a yet another spooky, cold basement. 

“Curtis family?” Suddenly, the door to the office across from Ms. Summers opens and a lady with curly hair Ponyboy has seen a few times in the past when he’s been in the waiting room sticks her head out. She smiles the way Ms.Summers does, in a way that never really reaches her eyes, “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve got the paperwork all ready here, I just need the mother and father’s signatures, and then you just need to get it signed by a judge to make everything official.”

“We’ll be right back,” Mrs.Curtis promises them all, standing up and placing Ponyboy down on her chair but not before kissing his cheek almost absentmindedly, the way he’d seen moms at the park near Mr.Fuller’s house do with their babies sometimes, “be good boys for me.”

“Darry, keep an eye on your brothers, will you?” Mr Curtis adds, and Darry nods easily from where he’s lounging in his seat, reading a magazine.

“Does Johnny need to come in too?” Mrs.Curtis wonders as she follows the social worker into the office.

“He can if he wants to, but it’s not necessary for this part.”

“Well Johnnycake?” That was Mr.Curtis, looking at Johnny like he was the whole dang world, and Pony feels the same hatred from earlier bubbling up inside him, which definitely wasn’t fair, especially after Johnny and Mrs.Curtis and all of them had been so very nice to him all day. “Whaddya say? You wanna come with us or wait here with your brothers? We won’t be long.”

Johnny kind of shrinks with everyone's eyes on him. Pony knows the feeling.

“I’ll stay out here.”

“Ok kiddo,” Mr Curtis ruffles Johnny’s hair and follows his wife into the office. 

Even though he has no reason to be worried, the sight of the closed office door with its faded paint and frosted windows makes Ponyboy’s heart sink. Logically he knows its stupid, that something good is happening behind it, that it’s making it so Johnny can get adopted, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s the same door that closed behind his mother when the state made her sign away custody of him, and that it’s the same office every foster parent who ever returned him ran to as soon as they stepped inside the child services centre.

“Hey,” Johnny nudges him gently, keeping his voice low so Soda and Darry- who appear to be arguing, though Ponyboy can’t tell what about- can’t hear, “you ok?”

Johnny’s got eyes that are inky black and a scar on his head that says maybe he’s got a past life a whole lot like Pony’s current one.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Pony breathes. He glances at the shut door again. 

“That’s okay.” Johnny promises, simple and sure and kind. “You don’t have to know.”

Pony can tell then that Johnny really does understand, maybe more than anyone has ever understood before.

They lapse into silence. Soda appears to be trying to convince Darry to read out the advice column of the magazine, while Darry is doing his best to ignore him and read one of the sports articles. 

“Johnny,” Pony murmurs while Soda is dramatically wailing about the merits of Dear Abby and the plights of many he needs to weigh in on, “can-can I ask you somethin’? You don’t gotta answer if you don’t wanna.”

“Ok.”

“Did they take your mom away too?” 

Johnny doesn’t say anything but his eyes flash dangerously and Pony finds himself trying to explain.

“It’s only- they took my mom. First they took her away in a different police car, and then they took her into Ms.Summers’ office and then she was gone and I wasn’t allowed to see her anymore.”

Johnny raises a hand to his mouth, chews anxiously on his thumbnail.

“Yeah,” He admits softly after a minute, “yeah they took her. My dad too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

Ponyboy kicks his legs, trying his best not to glance at Johnny. He often had trouble meeting people’s eyes, but that went double anytime he was uncomfortable.

“What about your dad?” Johnny asks after a minute, looking anywhere but at Ponyboy.

Pony blinks. “What about him?”

“Did they take him too?”

“No,” Ponyboy shakes his head, “he’s in jail. I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” Ponyboy shrugs. It really is too. He didn’t spend much time thinking about his dad, mostly because he usually forgot he ever had one. 

“Pony?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever miss your mom?”

“Yeah,” Pony admits quietly. It feels blasphemous, even as he says it, but it is true, “sometimes. But I still don’t ever wanna go back to living with her ever again.”

Mom was cold and mean with her vicious hands and quick temper, for all she could be nice sometimes. She’d pressed his hand to the hot stove once and threw stuff at him everyday, even if she did read him bedtime stories a few times a week. He’d had worse foster parents since they took him away, but not by much, and those people weren’t his mom. It made sense they didn’t want him. It never made sense why she didn’t.

“Me neither,” Johnny agrees.

“It’s different though,” Pony points out, “you got the Curtis’ now. No wonder you don’t wanna go back.”

“It ain’t different,” Johnny glares, and suddenly he looks like every kid in every group home Pony’s ever met, mean and defeated, “it don’t change the fact she didn’t love me even when I wanted her to.”

“Hey you two,” Darry’s suddenly in front of them, hands on his hips and a frown on his face, “how come you’re arguin’?”

They both hesitate.

“I was bein’ mean,” Pony admits, shamefaced, looking straight at Johnny, “You’re right it ain’t different. I’m sorry Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyes stay hard for a second until they melt back to something soft.

“It’s okay.”

He understands. Pony sighs, relieved.

“Ok,” Darry looks confused, “ well. Glad y’all are good.” 

He sits down again.

Pony can’t help it. He giggles.

“What’re you laughin’ at, huh kid?” Darry sounds mad but he’s smiling as he says it, so Pony thinks maybe he’s only pretending to be.

“Your face.”

“My face?”

“Yeah,” Pony says, “you look funny.” He demonstrates, pulling an exaggerated version of Darry’s puzzled frown, and Johnny laughs.

“Funny huh?”  Darry exchanges a grin with Soda, Johnny perking up beside him, eyes lighting in understanding, “we’ll show you funny.”

The next thing Pony knows he’s being tickled to death, all three older boys teaming up against him until he’s squealing and red faced from laughter, begging for mercy.

“What on earth is going on out here?”

Pony freezes. Darry, Soda, and Johnny all do too.

Ms.Summers has emerged from her office, hands propped on her hips, eyes blazing. She looks mad. Proper mad. The kind of mad adults get before they slap him or send him to bed without food.

Without really meaning to, Pony scoots a little behind Darry.

“Sorry ma'am,” Darry steps a bit more in front of him, putting himself in front of Soda and Johnny too, and gives Ms.Summers a winning smile, “we were just playin’ around. We didn’t mean to get so loud. We’ll be more quiet from now on.”

“See to it that you do. Where are your parents?”

“Signing some paperwork with your colleague, ma’am.”

“Hm,” Ms. Summers huffs, “well, behave yourselves until they get back. Ponyboy, if you can’t be good you’ll have to sit in the corner again without your new friends. Do you understand?”

Ponyboy forces himself to meet her gaze. She never liked it when he was impolite, and that meant he had to look at her when he was speaking.

“Yes ma’am,” he manages, just barely above a mumble. Ms.Summers hates mumbling.

“Good.” She gives them one last severe look and closes her office door with a snap.

As soon as she’s gone Soda starts snickering.

“Did you see her face?” He pulls an exaggerated frown, eyebrows scrunched down and cheeks puffed out a bit, and props his hands on hips the way Ms.Summers had a second a minute ago.

 “Stop bein’ loud!” He mocks in a high falsetto, a poor approximation of Ms.Summer’s actual voice, “no havin’ fun on my watch!”

Pony laughs. He’s learning that Darry wasn’t wrong earlier when he said Soda was just like that. 

“Ok, ok, settle down,” Darry chides, but even he cracks a grin, “c’mon and sit again, and I’ll read out that stupid advice column.”

“It’s not stupid!” Soda protests, but he obeys, pulling Johnny down beside him. It seems almost reflexive, Soda dragging Johnny around absentmindedly and the shorter boy following him without question. 

“You too kid,” Darry nudges Pony gently, “come sit.”

Pony sits and tries to listen to Darry’s soothing baritone, but finds he can’t quite focus on the story. Instead, he worries. 

Mrs. and Mr. Curtis are still in the social worker’s office but he can’t imagine they will be for much longer, and when they come back out the papers will be signed and Johnny will officially be theirs, and they’ll leave.

Ponyboy really doesn’t want them to leave. Not Mrs.Curtis, who’d held him in her arms and let him sleep on her lap, or Mr.Curtis, who never looked scary even when he was stern, and whose eyes were always laughing, even when they shouldn't be. He doesn’t want Soda and his effervescent energy to leave, returning the waiting room to the same, stuffy, suffocating place it always was before today. He doesn’t want Johnny to leave, even though he’s happy for him, because Johnny wasn’t mean but he also understood things, and that was something Pony had never found in any other person, ever. Most of all, he doesn’t want Darry to leave, because Darry just saved him from Ms.Summers like some sort of superhero, and because he’d never been mean to him. Every other teenager Pony came into contact with hurt him or ignored him, but Darry Curtis hadn’t, not once.

He knew this would happen. As soon as he put down his book and went over to play cards he knew he’d get attached. He can feel hot tears prick at his eyes but he blinks them away rapidly. He’s not some stupid little baby. He is not going to cry just because one family was nice to him for one day and now he doesn’t ever want to see them go. That’s stupid.

Maybe he should go back to the corner. Tell Darry he isn’t feeling well and hide behind Great Expectations until they’re gone. It might hurt less if he could do the leaving first.

He’s still psyching himself up to move away from Darry’s soothing voice when the social worker’s door flies open. Instead of the Curtis’ leaving though, the curly haired social worker hurries out, casting a curious glance in their direction as she knocks on Ms.Summers’ door.

“Keisha, could you give me a hand with something, please?”

“Of course.” Ms.Summers emerges from her office looking equally as puzzled, and follows her coworker into the other office.

Johnny and Pony exchange a look. He can see the alarm in the older boy’s black eyes and wishes he could reassure him, but anything he said would sound false to his own ears. Any kid who’s ever been in the foster system knows that things go badly when the social workers start acting like that.

“What’s goin’ on?” Soda sounds scared, looking up at Darry with wide, frightened eyes, “they ain’t…I mean, they promised Johnny could stay for good, right Dar? They said they got the papers and everythin’.”

“Everything’s fine,” to his credit, Darry sounds so sure Ponyboy could almost believe him, “Johnny’s ours for sure, that ain’t in question.”

He ruffles Johnny’s hair, and the dark haired boy manages a weak grin, but Ponyboy can still see the panic he’s trying to hide in the way his hands are trembling, tucked under his thighs. He doesn’t believe him, not really. Pony doesn’t either. Pretty lies are and always will be just that: lies.

“Y’know…” Darry looks at the closed office door, something like realization dawning, “I think things’re gonna be more than ok actually.”

“What do you mean?” Soda wonders. 

Darry shakes his head, suddenly fighting a grin. It’s such a stark 180 from the worry he was trying to hide a second ago it’s a little startling.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Darry!”

“Seriously, little buddy, don’t worry about it.”

“You oughta tell me,” that was Johnny, voice small, “if you know something I don’t. It’s my life we’re talking about here.”

“You’re gonna be just fine Johnnycake,” Darry promises, “I mean it. We all are.”

They will be. Pony is glad for them, as much as he can be- which currently isn’t much, with the envy and the loneliness battling for dominance in his gut. 

“All of us.” Darry looks right at him, blue green eyes bright, “that means you too Ponyboy.”

He’s trying to be nice. Ponyboy knows he’s trying to be nice, but it still stings knowing their fine is so much better than his own. Their kind of fine meant love and safety and warmth. His meant survival and a half decent dinner. Sure, they’d all be fine. But not the same.

He’s saved from having to say anything by the office door opening.

“-tell him.” Mrs.Curtis is saying, Mr Curtis beside her with a thick manilla envelope and a smile shining brighter than the sun.

“There’s my boy,” Pony thinks Mr Curtis looks like a boy himself, his handsome face young, open and  joyous as he crosses the room in three steps and sweeps Johnny into a bear hug, picking him up and swinging him around, “how does it feel to officially be Johnny Curtis, huh?”

Soda perks up.

“It’s official?”

“Signed and sealed,” Mr. Curtis presses a kiss to Johnny’s hair and sets him down, but keeps an arm around his shoulders, “just gotta file these with the judge downtown.”

Soda cheers, and Darry lets out a whoop, both of them swarming Johnny and Mr.Curtis, half tackling them until they’re all wrapped up in one group hug, and it’s the best thing Ponyboy’s ever seen and all he wants to do is cry.

A touch on his head has him flinching away before he realizes it’s just Mrs.Curtis gently carding her fingers through his hair, watching her husband and three sons fondly before looking down at him.

“They’re real special, aren’t they?”

“Yes ma’am.” Pony agrees. 

She hums, and Pony can’t help but lean into her gentle touch. They’ll be leaving soon. She’ll be leaving soon. It’s okay, he thinks, to enjoy her kindness as long as possible. He’d already tried not to, and it hadn’t worked. Trying to ignore Mrs.Curtis’ love was like trying to ignore his growling stomach on the nights he went to bed hungry. No matter how hard he tried to forget it, when he next got a taste of food he couldn’t help himself from eating as much as he could stomach, simply because he didn’t know how long it would be until his next proper meal.

“Y’know,” Mrs. Curtis says, “I think you’re pretty special too.”

Her smile changes, still soft but now there’s a secret hiding in her eyes, and a specific kind of love Pony doesn’t understand pulling at the dimple in her cheek. 

“I talked to Ms.Summers,” she says, and Pony’s heart twists. Ms.Summers has a way of making him into a bother to people who don’t even know him. He doesn’t want Mrs.Curtis to think that, “and she said you don’t have anyone to go home to tonight. So I thought maybe you might wanna come home with me and the boys.”

His heart stops.

“W-what?”

“Well,” she sounds almost casual, but her shining eyes and mischievous grin give away how false it is, like Darry’s had when they were playing cards earlier, an actor on life’s stage, “there’s an extra bed in Darry’s room, now that Johnny and Soda have bunk beds, and some chocolate cake in the fridge I really think you’d like. Besides, Soda and Johnny are always talkin’ about how they wished they had a little brother to teach things to, and I know they had a ball playin’ cards with you earlier. So what do you say? You want to come stay with us for a while?”

He wants to. More than anything he wants to. It sounds like a dream come true, like a storybook come to life. He lets himself imagine it, sharing a room with Darry of all people, eating chocolate cake with Mrs.Curtis, and getting to play with Soda and Johnny who actually liked him, maybe even not having to worry about being slapped all the time.

“Why?” he has to know. It doesn’t make sense why she would offer this. She has enough little boys, with Soda, Johnny and Darry. Why would she want him too? “Why would you wanna take me? You don’t need me.”

She wasn’t like Mr.Fuller, who’d needed an extra hand to help out on the farm, or Mrs. Delvine who had three babies and no husband. Mrs.Curtis has a husband who looks at her like she hung the stars and three boys already to help her out with chores. She doesn’t need him. It doesn’t make sense.

“Oh honey,” her eyes get sad, and Pony hates himself for making them that way even if he doesn’t know what exactly it is that he did, “I think I do need you. I think all of us do. But more than that I think you need me.”

“I ain’t your baby,” Pony reminds her, because it feels like maybe she’s forgotten that, and it doesn’t matter if he feels like he does need her, because she ain’t his mom and she doesn’t deserve to be stuck with him. “You got no reason to be stuck with me.”

“Hmm,” her mouth presses into a thin line, but she doesn’t look angry. Stern maybe, but that doesn’t feel quite right either, “you cried in my arms and slept on my knee, so I think you are my baby now, at least a little bit. I got more babies than just the three I brought with me today, and I needed all of them just as much as they needed me. So.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she cups his cheek, “there’s Soda’s friend Steve, and Darry’s friend Keith, and Johnny’s friend Dally. And they’ve all cried in my arms and slept on my knee at least once, and they always come stay at my house whenever they need. And they didn’t grow in my belly but they grew in my heart and they’re still my babies anyway. So I think you could be too. If you want.”

If he wants. Ponyboy is used to wanting things, and even more used to not getting any of them, but he can be one of Mrs.Curtis’ babies if he wants. 

“Really?”

“Really.” She promises.

“Ok,” he breathes, “ok, yes, I’ll go with you.”

“We’re keeping Ponyboy too?” Soda whoops, half jumping on Mrs.Curtis in his excitement,  “this is the best day ever!”

“I knew it,” Darry claims, shaking his head at his parents but grinning all the same, “I knew as soon as that other social worker got called in there that you two just couldn’t leave him here if you tried.”

He knuckles Pony’s hair and grins down at him, inviting him to share the joke. Pony thinks he might actually be dreaming, because he still can’t quite bring himself to believe this is happening, that he’s gonna stay with the Curtis’.

“I’m real glad you’re coming with us,” Johnny murmurs in his ear, as Ms.Summers hands Mr.Curtis  Pony’s file and his meagre backpack of belongings, before bidding him a perfunctory farewell.  Ponyboy can’t help but agree. He’s real glad he’s going with them too.

It won’t last forever. Hell, it might not even last a week. They could get sick of him or he could get moved anytime, but as Mrs.Curtis takes his hand, and he follows the Curtis family out of the family services office and towards his latest new life, Ponyboy Hewitt lets himself believe for the first time that maybe, somehow, this fairytale might last. 

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

Venting

@kittenfangirl20

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

@yurnu

@lilacwriter07

@fanofstuff01

Sorry if this might seem like me bitching but I've really needed to bitch lately. I keep thinking about these two fanfics I stopped reading a while ago, it claimed it was adamsapple but all it really is is that Lilith is written like a bitching cunt and yet the authors claim that she is a fucking victim because Adam didn't know how to react when he found out his wife CHEATED on him!!! UGH and then they make Lucifer a fucking dick asshole to Adam EVEN AFTER ALL THE FUCKING SHIT HE DID TO HIM IN THE PAST!!!!!!!!!!! ARGH and then after one fake ass apology all is well and good and apparently, Lucifer is a fucking victim, and we should get on our knees and pray to them like fucking gods even though they fucking allowed sin to enter to the world even though I'm sure they were told numerous times NOT to do it and that there would be DIRE.FUCKING.CONSEQUENCES

Then there is this one person who I feel bad for even getting mad at! Because they seem like they're going through a lot, and they seem like a nice person in real life it's just UGH I HATE HOW THEY FAVOR LILITH!!!!! AFTER EVERYTHING SHE'S DONE AFTER EVER FUCKING THING HOW CAN ANYONE LIKE HER!!!!

OHOHOHO AND THAT'S NOT EVEN MENTIONING THIS ONE LILITH LOVER ON YOUTUBE WHO LITERALLY SINGS LILITH'S PRAISES I AINT GONNA SAY THEIR NAME BUT I THINK WE ALL KNOW WHO IT IS!!!!!

OH, AND BY THE WAY THEY ONCE TECHNICALLY STATED IN A COVER THAT ALL EXORCISTS ARE WORSE THAN A SINNER, WELL GOOD TO KNOW ANGELS ARE APPARENTLY WORSE THAN FUCKING VALENTINO OR A PEDOPHILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD WHY DON'T THEY ALL JUST GO TAKE LILITH AND LUCIFER AT MAKE-OUT POINT AND TAKE TURNS THREE-WAYING WITH THEM IF THEY LOVE THEM SO MUCH!?!?!?!

OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK!!!!

I know I'm bitching and I know I probably sound like a fucking cunt believe me I hear it but I just really, really, really, really, really needed to let that out

Oh, and by the way

NOT ALL SINNERS CAN BE OR EVEN SHOULD REDEEMED, LIKE SAY FOR EXAMPLE I DON'T KNOW MAYBE A FUCKING NAZI!?!?!?!

Yes, there are some down there that can be redeemed, at least in the show, but there are many demons who don't even WANT salvation, not just because they don't think it's possible, but because they don't WANT to change for the better

I just wish these people would understand that, ESPECIALLY since it pertains to real life, there are just some people you can't save

Anyway, glad I finally got this off my chest I've been holding this in

Oh! Also @taradiddled if you're seeing this, I swear to the holy father this post IS IN NO WAY about you or your fic, I actually like it. Sorry if you ever got that conclusion

[surreal-duck]

live drama adaptations part 2 (prev)

cast reveal and girls movie night 🔥

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[ricky-mortis]

A portrait of Sir John Herschel because I‘m normal about Pulp Musicals

[rosiesriiveters]

Rosie at the flak house is like... he's compartmentalising... he's holding it together, but he's scared that if he stops, actually stops, he won't be able to get in the saddle again. That if he actually thinks about Munster, then he won't be able to stop thinking about it.

It's Rosie keeping to himself almost the entire time he's there, watching from afar - watching his men laugh together and cry alone - but just that, watching, and never with them. It's Rosie not sleeping, it's Rosie and this underlying sense of dread of how the hell he's going to get back in the plane.

Then - it's Rosie's conversation with the doctor. Rosie's the drummer, and yes, he has to keep his own beat, but he has to keep everyone else's beat too. If Rosie's rhythm is disrupted, then his crew's rhythm is disrupted. And it's only then, that pushes Rosie to pull up a chair and sit with and comfort his crew at the flak house.

[gobstoppr]

hey guys am i allowed to say on main that i dont like metadad . am i gonna get beaten up for saying this.

guys i think we all took the term found family too literally and now everythings flattened into a boring nuclear family. guys can we stop. hello . is anybody there

[kokoasci]

every time i post i am reminded that some of my irls follow me on twt/instagram (not here afaik. thank goodness) sorry guys for being way too invested in a manga based on dead authors. i may be cringe but i am free

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[dballzposting]

What if Gotenks lived with his dad Vegito but on weekends he lived with his other dad Gogeta but this is sort of a recent thing becasue Gogeta didnt secure split custody until recently so Gotenks doesnt really Know Gogeta that well and he goes to his modest and hearthlike apartment and feels disquieted becasue it is VERY DIFFERENT from the sensory-overload distraction-chamber that is Vegito's lavish house. And Gogeta doesnt narcissistically abuse Gotenks so Gotenks doesnt relaly understand him at all and he really doesnt get how an adult could be so calm and not get angry and yell at him over little things and so he thinks that Gogeta is actually just really furious but hiding it and so it takes a long time for Gotenks to trust him and trust that he genuinely isnt mad at him. But at the same time it doesnt take long at all for Gotenks to respond to his genuine calmness by feeling the most secure & safe that hes ever felt but he doesnt really understand that or why that is and he doesnt understand why he feels so yucky when he has to go back to his other home on Monday morning and so he just ignores it and plays iPad and skateboards. And every Friday night he gets so nervous he gets nauseous and Vegito always uses this to say "You dont have to go over there sweetie :) Do you want to? You Do Not Have To Want To" and then he yells at Gogeta over the phone about it. But without fail every time he gets to Gogeta's apartment and adjusts Gotenks does feel better and sometimes just falls asleep on the couch. And Gogeta makes tea every evening and it's sooooo yucky to Gotenks but he still drinks it every time becasue Gogeta made it and he deosnt have the maturity & wherewithal to understand that it's becasue it makes him feel included and cared for.

This isn't dragon ball any more not even close like not even a little bit