#only because of my lack of imagination when it comes to ship names......

[lokh]

You the only one in laishuro tag??? You the founder??????

YEAH 😭😭💔💔 it's so lonely out here.... I think the emptiness is due to a couple of things

people.... don't like shuro. who knew! (sarcasm) (agony) (i understand but Still)

laishuro is not yet common fandom vernacular. their names are difficult to mash together and laishuro is just the one that i came up with. other people have also considered this ship but if theyre making anything for it it's entirely possible theyre using a different tag/ship name

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Part I: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Part I: On her daily morning run, Y/N wonders if she’ll ever have someone who wants her simply company. Spencer promises her just that, the only catch: she has to wait seven years.

Rating: Eventual smut, fluff and longing

Word Count: 3.5K

Series Masterlist | Tell Me What You Think!

My Mind Turns You Into Folklore: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Running, somehow, still made her feel like a child. Perhaps there was something unadulterated and carefree about losing yourself in the pounding of pavement. When Y/N felt the wind rush in her ears and the familiar burn throughout her body, she truly felt alive.

Her entire body ached— no, screamed— as she approached her fifth mile for the day’s session. For Y/N running wasn’t about getting to the destination fastest, but about finishing the race altogether.

She wished she could apply such wisdom to very particular aspects of her life. Namely, her love life. For Y/N, relationships with men were unpleasantly predictable. From terrible blind dates with friends who she honestly can’t tell if they meant well to men with habits so strange Y/N could only plead insanity by a drunken state as to why she entertained even a second glance. Unfortunately, for her the sea of men seemed to solely be comprised of rather the unfortunate sort of men that made her skin crawl.

Her knees burned as her mind ran through the five weddings and babies that were impending. Between cousins, college friends, and even her own sister all either, Y/N never more lonely than when she was surrounded by her people. There was something particularly voyeuristic about watching those you love move along the carousel while you’re left in the dust. She was a casual observer, marooned to the sidelines. And someone where along the way she forgot to even care.

Her chest burned as she wondered where her aunt, a woman born and forged from pure spite and hefty lack of tolerance for anything progressive, would sit her at her cousin’s wedding. Y/N heaved forward imagining what would be worse; the discarded old widow’s table with wives whose husbands’ expiration date had come and passed. Or with her unruly nephews who would have to be wrestled into a tiny tuxedo and bribed with fried food and the majesty of Red40 to maintain the semblance of civility.

Being 27, husbandless, boyfriendless, and childless didn’t usually bother Y/N. She loved her peace. But somehow it put her into this plane of existence where she straddled youth and adulthood. She had one foot jammed deep into the rich, sodden earth of childhood and one toe dipping too all too calm to be safe waters of adulthood. Yet being uncoupled was as if she purchased overnight shipping to the elephant graveyard.

It was antiquated. It was downright sexist, yet there was a small part of her heart and her entire being that craved to be taken care of by a man. She wanted someone to bring her flowers just because, to hug her from behind while she stirred soup for dinner on a chilly day, to brush her hair from her face as he brought her to the brink of pleasure time and time again.

There was only so much her vibrator could do.

But a heart that ached to be loved, that problem didn’t come with a WebMD link. There wasn’t a quick and easy fix to change something that defined her on a molecular level.

She savored the sweet breeze that reminded her of summer and childhood. The houses, various shades of blue, gray, and beige blurred past as she maintained her steady pace.

Y/N rounded the corner and pounded the pavement that led to Betsy’s Cape Cod. She was the Head Librarian and took Y/N under her rather Mother Goose-like wing three years ago when she took the position at the small, sleepy library. A suburb of Quantico, many of the patrons were families in public service.

She even stumbled across someone who quickly became her best friend, Spencer. He was some sort of former child prodigy turned adult wunderkid. After racking up more diplomas than most extended families collect, Spencer worked as a special agent for the FBI. But looking at him, you would never have guessed. He was timid and shy in a boyish way that made him seem much younger than 32. He was tall and lanky, yet despite his slender frame he seemed to completely light up every single room he walked into.

Both Betsy and Spencer buried themselves into the fabric of her life. Betsy sat on the front porch, slowly swaying on the large, wooden swing. A crocheted blanket lay over her lap, keeping her warm under the brisk morning’s chill.

“Y/N!” Betsy called, as she ascended the stairs with a bright smile, “Dearie, it’s far too cold for you to run out here.”

“I could say the same about you, Bets,”

Betsy dismissed Y/N with a coy smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s good for my old bones to get a little chill. Make sure everything is in working order.”

Betsy scooted over on the porch swing, making more than enough room for Y/N to sit.

“That tall kid? Hmm, Spencer? Yes. Spencer. Was in there looking for you yesterday. Poor kid’s entire day was ruined when I told him you were on a date. Now, is there a reason why you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell your best friend?” Betsy asked, not hesitating to ask a question that went straight for the jugular.

Y/N offered Betsy a weak smile. “There wasn’t anything to tell him. He’s not interested in my love life. We talk about books. And work. And… I don’t know…”

Betsy nodded, but her pointed look pressed Y/N to continue. There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Spencer, but that wasn’t to say the connection wasn’t the most important thing in her life. When she met him three years ago he simply waltzed into her life; a tall, gangly man with a large appetite for baked goods and an excellent taste in literature.

“Besides, he has a thing for his coworker. Even though she hardly acknowledges his existence.”

From the time she met Spencer, he constantly was talking about his teammates. Growing up, Spencer didn’t have a stable family life. His mother tried her best, while his father never tried at all. He grown up not knowing what it was like to belong anywhere and now he finally found something resembling a family.

JJ was blonde and skinny and perfect and Spencer was completely enamored with her. Y/N met her only a couple of times, the first after a football game. She shared a plate of cheese fries and gravy with Spencer’s other coworker, Penelope as Spencer attempted to spout an almanac’s worth of facts about football to JJ.

“Hmm,” Betsy murmured, swinging back and forth. “Well, he said he has to talk to you about something. Maybe he’s getting to his senses, finally.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipped some of the ice cold lemonade Betsy handed her, and gave her a pointed smile.

“This isn’t a romance novel, Bets. You’ve been sneaking too many of those bodice rippers.”

She stood up and felt some relief as her weary muscles stretched. Betsy waved another annoyed hand.

“Quiet down, Missy. I’ve had my chance at love. And I fully intend on you and Spencer being an item. My Arnold, may that old bastard rest in peace, never gave me children, so you and that boy are my only chance to fill this house with grandkids.”

“Oh my God, Betsy,” Y/N groaned, her head tossed back, “It’s not like that between us. And I promise you, it never will be.”

Y/N took off before Betsy had the chance to respond. But she couldn’t shake the funny feeling tugging at her heartstrings. She thought that maybe if she just focused her mind on feeling the wind blow her hair and her body burn as the third mile turned into a fifth, she could wash away the thoughts of one or two little children sitting on Betsy’s porch, sandwiched in between her and Spencer.

***

Gary, as it turned out, wasn’t a nice guy. First of all, he showed up precisely 23 and a half minutes late and hardly bothered to greet her as he sat down at their two seater table. He barked a drink order to the waitress, who graciously threw Y/N a sympathetic smile.

“So you work at Walter Reed?” Y/N asked, attempting to make conversation with the man seated in front of her. He was a couple years her senior and an Attending Emergency Room Doctor. On paper Gary seemed wonderful. He had a nice family; older sisters were always a green flag in Y/N’s book and seemed to have a basic grasp of personal hygiene practices.

Gary mumbled as the waitress brought him his drink: whisky on rocks. He downed it in about three minutes and signaled for the waitress to return.

“Sorry,” Gary apologized, his voice so close to resembling being embarrassed, but it, somewhere along the line, made a beeline in the opposite direction, “There was some bitch in the ER today complaining about how her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. Took me a god damn hour to shut her up. Jesus, reminds me why I don’t date.”

Y/N felt her face freeze. It was like his harsh words poured ice water over her shoulders. Her skin practically crawled as Gary’s carelessness settled in. Wasn’t this a date? Or was this simply the means for Gary to get into her pants.

“Hold up,” Y/N said, gesturing with her hand held up to stop Gary’s rant, “I was under the impression this was a date. Is it not?”

Gary shrugged. “As long as there’s a happy ending with you, babe I don’t give a fuck.”

He was crass. Y/N was far from a prude. She enjoyed her time in college and didn’t mind the occasional quick one night stand when the opportunity presented itself, but there would be something completely debasing and revolting about sleeping with the man sitting before her.

“I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.” Y/N said, her words clipped and stern: there wasn’t room for Gary to mix up any bit of her message. “I’m not looking for a fuck-buddy. And even if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be you. We’ve been sitting here for all of twelve minutes and you’ve already drank two whiskys, been rude to the waitress, insulted a patient, and offended me.”

Gary, in a lackadaisical way that could only be described as a fuckboy with the worst case of Peter Pan syndrome, shrugged his shoulders. He downed the rest of his second whisky, “You’re a frigid bitch anyway.”

He left.

And Y/N laughed. Then she ordered two slices of double chocolate cheesecake and asked the waitress where the closest liquor store was.

***

Silently, she cursed Spencer’s charming love of buildings with character. She bounded up the steps to his apartment, the plastic bag with the two slices of cheesecake banged against her leg. Her other hand clutched the neck of a cheap, screw top rose.

Her date, disastrous, was nearly comical, and she couldn’t wait to recount the details to Spencer.

They share a sort of sadistic penchant for relaying moments for their occasional first dates. Typically, Y/N had more than Spencer. On the rare occasion Spencer did have a date, Y/N found herself trying to explain that any girl in her right mind would attempt to flirt with Spencer, but he refused to see her points.

Not bothering to knock, Y/N opted to use the spare key Spencer gave her. She figured he’d either still be working at the office or would be too engrossed in his latest fantasy novel to bother answering the door.

Spencer’s apartment was painted a dusty, sage green. The farthest wall was lined with built-in bookshelves. A prewar relic, Spencer’s style mixed perfectly with the vintage quality embedded within the walls.

Up until recently, Spencer’s kitchen was hardly used. But Y/N had taken it upon herself to teach Spencer the basics in prepping meals. He was a quick study, as with almost everything he tried. And it gave her some peace knowing he would be able to provide himself something more satiating than granola bars and frozen lasagna.

“Spencer! Spence!” Y/N called out, dipping her head into Spencer’s second bedroom. There was a queen bed in there with a cream colored quilt splashed out on the bed.

On late nights spent watching old, black and white movies or binging episodes of The Twilight Zone and The X-Files, she would crash there. It was a fight for her to even concede to allow Spencer to purchase the queen bed. Y/N claimed that she was fine just sleeping on the couch, but Spencer insisted that she sleep in a bed.

And if Y/N had been born into a braver soul, she would’ve suggested they share his bed three years ago.

Spencer shuffled out of his bathroom, eyes red and weary. He wore a tattered Cal-Tech shirt and plaid pajama pants. He wore his glasses. They rested on the bridge of his nose and made him lose at least four or five years on his already young looking face.

“She’s pregnant.”

“I brought wine. And chocolate cheesecake.” Y/N replied, kicking her shoes off. “And you better have done laundry already because I am not sleeping in this dress. I feel ridiculous in it.”

Spencer’s eyes raked over Y/N’s frame, as if he was internally debating his thoughts on her outfit. His brow furrowed. “You’re date?”

“Asshole.” Y/N said, walking into the kitchen. She plucked two wine glasses from Spencer’s cabinet and two plates. “Arrogant and only wanted a quick fuck.”

His voice disappeared as he went into his room for a change of pajamas. They were freshly washed. She continued to listen to Spencer as she shut the bathroom door and changed behind. His voice was no longer muffled when she came out of the bathroom, but she did notice how Spencer’s eyes still were heavy with something unfamiliar when he looked over her baggy, old pajama-clad frame.

“You’re not the girl for that.” Spencer commented, reaching for the corkscrew. His large hands twisted around the device and the bottle of wine made a satisfying pop.

“You don’t know that.” Y/N countered, her defiance made a crop of red appear on Spencer’s cheeks. “Besides, that’s not the point. JJ’s pregnant. With that New Orleans guy’s baby?”

He nodded. It was as if grief washed over Spencer as Y/N changed the conversation. She knew that Spencer was harboring feelings for JJ. Jennifer was nearly perfect in every way. The only imperfect thing about her was that she didn’t realize how perfect Spencer was. He would’ve adored JJ if he got the chance. He nearly did.

“And how do you feel about that?”

Spencer groaned, pouring himself a healthy cup of rosé. “Unsure. It’s not like I’m going to confront her about this. She’s practically engaged to Will. And now there’s a baby in the picture? A baby who’s very well going to grow up seeing me as Uncle Spencer.”

He sounded exhausted. Y/N touched his hand and squeezed. She understood the pained loneliness that plagued Spencer’s voice. “I don’t love JJ anymore. It’s just, my whole life I felt like I was so far beyond my peers. And now? They all finally have caught up, this time the tables have turned. God, I’m excited when a girl smiles at me, let alone goes on a date with me.”

Weakly, Y/N smiled. She sipped her rose, “So it’s more of feeling like you’re far beyond in life? Despite having two PhDs and like three undergrad degrees? You’re one of the most accomplished men I know, Spencer. And we all move along at our own pace. Don’t compare JJ’s story to yours.”

He nodded, spooning a bite of the double chocolate cheesecake. “It’s just…I’m nearly 32. And now I’m watching JJ and Hotch and Morgan talk about babies and husbands and wives and houses. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to get that one day. Sometimes… I think I’m too me for anyone to fall in love with me.”

Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million little pieces as Spencer’s honest confession striked her entire system. She wanted to reach out and push away the stray curl that hooked itself in front of his eyebrow. She wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears. She wanted to tell her friend that if no one married him, she would.

She stalked off the to couch, needing a stable place to sit. Her chocolate cheesecake stuck to the roof of her mouth and the bitter rosé did nothing to remove it.

“Holy shit, Spencer. Do you not realize that you’d make any girl happy? You’ll find her one day, I know it. And if you don’t, we can just say fuck it and get married. I mean, I know it wouldn’t be romantic love, but we could at least live together. Through a big fancy party and get dressed up nice and getting drunk on mojitos with my best friend. My person? Sounds fun.”

“You mean that?” Spencer asked, half in disbelief and half in wonderment. “You mean that we’ll get married if neither of us have someone…say seven years from now?”

She must’ve drank more than she thought as she waited for Gary to ruin their date. “I meant it. But why seven?”

A smile toyed on Spencer lips. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“It’s my lucky number.”

Her lips were so loose that it threatened to crack open her heart. She had a nasty habit of wearing that on her sleeve.

She gave Spencer a sheepish look as his eyes met hers. He looked half between incredulous and hopeful. His fingers ran across the rim of his wine glass as the wine sloshed around. It mirrored Y/N’s stomach.

“Is this idea like bad shit crazy?” Y/N asked. “I mean it. I mean, why not. It’s not so different from what we do now. Just all the time. And I’d be thrilled to be spiritually required to spend more time with you.”

“Should we….shake hands or something. I’m not the biggest fan of that, but I think my wife would serve as an exception to the rule. To every rule I’ve got?”

Y/N laughed. She felt the wine creep up a nice, warm flush against her skin. It matched the light and easy way her limbs felt. It might have very well been the wine, but there wasn’t much of anything that could trump laughing with your best friend. Especially when that best friend slipped and called you his wife.

Her feet somehow ended up in Spencer’s lap. His thumb rubbed gently against her ankle, barely touching her bare skin. Yet it sent shockwaves that she didn’t quite understand.

The corners of Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he reciprocated that laugh. They shared it and Y/N had the strangest desire to bottle it up. She wanted to store this moment in her mind and come back to it. One day. Some day.

“We’ll get married,” Spencer started speaking as if it was a prophecy that he could set in stone, “if neither of us has anyone, we’ll enter this rather odd, rather complex, yet completely entirely normal and simple marriage in seven years?” His sweet, yet coy smile was boyish, it only reminded Y/N just how far away 35 was for her.

“Should we draft up a contract?”

“Have your lawyers contact my lawyers. I never sign documents without the proper legal support. In the meantime, could we settle on our first stipulation: never watching a new episode of our current favorite show without the other?”

“I agree to the terms and conditions you’ve set out.” Y/N said. She grabbed the blanket that rested on the back of the couch as Spencer turned off the lamp light.

“Oh and I washed the sheets in your room. I used the detergent you like. And your pajamas. The lavender vanilla one with the scent beads?” He flipped on an episode of The Twilight Zone.

She smiled from the way Spencer naturally called the guest room her bedroom. There was something very domestic and peaceful about him using her favorite detergent to wash the sheets in her room in his apartment. It resembled the exact something that she was craving: being taken care of.

She sipped her rose again, watching as her friend smiled at the gray scale painted on the screen. It was too bad she only had to weight over half a decade to feel it and not feel guilty and like she was lying to herself.

—

Taglist:

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @mrs-dr-reid @reid-ingandweeping @candlesandsoftrain @foxy-eva @queermaxwooo

[cailenbraern]

Not sure if I can fully articulate my thoughts about Jaskier’s growth as an artist throughout the seasons of The Witcher but I'm going to give it a go.

Because when we meet him in season 1 , he's more or less just starting out. He's fresh from Oxenfurt and determined to make a name for himself on the continent. The trouble is, he's got nothing to draw on. He's still young so his experience is negligible. He performs songs about monsters and creatures with little accuracy or meaning, and we meet him being jeered and pelted with food.

Meeting Geralt gives him a new inspiration for original songs, although he's not truthful, particularly in Toss a Coin. As Geralt said, that's not what happened, and Jaskier responds with respect doesn't make history. He's still too young and too inexperienced to realise what impact his songs can have, and he's solely determined to improve the reputations of Witchers along with his own reputation.

The two other songs in season 1 are Fishmongers Daughter, which I'm not going to discuss in any detail, and Her Sweet Kiss. Now one cane argue that the latter is heavily drawn from personal emotion and feeling, but the end result is a fairly normal ballad style of song with poetry as lyrics and vivid imagery and metaphors. It's a start, but Jaskier still has a long way to go.

Then we get to season 2, where we find Jaskier in the early stages of recognition. We see him performing in a packed bar, with accompaniment, and the crowd are lapping it up. It helps that the song he's singing comes, as per his own words, from the heart. Burn Butcher, Burn is 100% emotion, 100% authentic, and gone is the poetry. The lyrics are raw and passionate.

Despite this, we're led to believe that he found his fame with The Golden One. In contrast with BBB, this song lacks any emotional punch. It's purely a story or anecdote set to music. A fun little ditty, but unless you can suspend your disbelief, if open to criticism. As happens when attempting to smuggle the Elves onto the ship.

Now, we know that at this point, Jaskier has done and seen and experienced far more things than he had in season 1, and this has left an impact on him. He has matured and developed his sense of empathy and his kindness so much more than the immature travelling bard showed in Posada, thanks tp witnessing the violence and persecution of the elves, while also dealing with his own broken heart. Yet he's still clinging on to his want and desire to be respected and applauded for his skill and talent in writing and singing songs, so we see that he does not take criticism well.

More happens in season 2 to shape and form him, Rience's torture for one, the massacre at Kaer Morhen, his friendship with Yennefer and his mending (such as it is) of his friendship with Geralt along with the continuing politics all across the continent.

I do have a soft spot for Whoreson Prison Blues. The first two verses are beautiful, followed by a very crude, very catchy chorus. I can't imagine he would include it in future sets, but it's so personal to him in that moment that I love it.

Little wonder that by Season Three, we are met with yet more changes in our bard. His words to Radovid stating that he doesn't 'do pretty' suggest to me that he has consciously decided to move away from filling his songs with poetry and imagery and is focused more on honesty and truth. Extraordinary Things which immediately follows is a perfect demonstration of Jaskier singing openly and from the heart.

But what I wanted to get to in this long winded post, is that this is the season we finally see the Emotional Impact Jaskier's songs have on other people. No criticisms, no jokes, just the power of his music.

Whatever your opinion on Radovid and his motivations, Extraordinary Things affected him. You can see this in his reaction as he hears it for the first time, and he so clearly can't get it out of his head after hearing it only one time, that he goes above and beyond to learn it.

Next is Ciri, and we see Jaskier singing a lullaby (which he may or may not have written himself, jury's out on that) to her. Later, in the desert, she sings the lullaby back to herself, drawing strength and courage from it. This power has been given by Jaskier through his singing, making her feel safe and loved in a vulnerable moment.

Finally, Eternal Flowers, which I'll say here, is the best I've ever heard Joey sing, both on the album version and in the live performance on the show. He has his lute, but he lays it down like laying down a weapon. It's just him, stripped bare, open, vulnerable, honest, true. This is not his song, but he feels the emotion and the message as thought it was. His empathy is shining. It moves him to tears, but not only him, the Dryads also feel the emotion he is channelling, and it moves them to tears.

I don't have much of a conclusion to this ramble, but TL;DR, Jaskier’s songwriting and art has evolved over the three seasons and his bardic power is a might force to be reckoned with. He will be remembered long after Valdo for his honesty and beauty.

Not pretty. Real.

[scifur]

(please note, none of these are explicitly ships or even remotely romantic, I'm just thinking character dynamics in general)

Xiao: if you ever need me.. just call my name..

Lumine, towering over him in monster form:

(Also Xiao finding comfort in Lumi's beastial form as it in some ways reminds him of his fallen yaksha's forms)

Also, Childe sees this fucking monster and goes "Damn. I NEED to fight that." (He still tells Teucer all about her and describes her as having only one eye as well like Mr Cyclops and when Tecuer sees her he is BLOWN AWAY he thought his brother was making up jokes but WOW and she looks STRONG and THAT COAT WILL BE THICK ENOUGH FOR SHNEZNAYAN COLD) (Also Ajax relaxing around her just a smidge because her lack of humanity 1. Reminds him so much of the abyss, yet completely different in energy: light and warm and safe.. & 2. He doesn't feel shame for how his experience in the void has affected him and made him feel alienated with the rest of humanity -- note: that 2nd point also applies to other characters with similar issues such as Shenhe, Ganyu, Qiqi, etc. Anyone that feels less than accepted by humans for inhuman qualities)

Scara bonding w/ her over their shared inhuman-ness (imagining Scara having met her whilst she had a glamour, but still could detect her nonhumanity and when exposed to the extent of said nonhumanity,, he can feel a little more alive, a little less like an object)

Any of the nonhumans being like "hey, I have a form like that too!!" and bam suddenly there's a pack of creatures strutting down the streets of each and every nation. Morax (allegedly dead) spotted play fighting with the famed Beast. He claims he cannot come back to work The Beast has solely summoned him to hone their beast form. This is a complete lie.

You are so right , I love these have some doodles :D

[eqt-95]

like we're made of glass (excerpt)

“Jess?”  Lena had been nose deep in her tablet. She’d been walking - walking out of her office - walking to get another mug of tea before settling into her next four-hour marathon of work. She’d not bothered looking up when the small rustle of paper came from her secretary’s desk. “I thought you left-”

Until she did.

“Hi.”

Lena blinked and felt the tablet slip from her grip. Her fingers fumbled to keep it from crashing to the floor, and in that distraction she was able to keep her mouth from plummeting open in shock.

“You didn’t have a terrace.”

She knew this day might come. Would come. She’d worried through countless hypotheticals and iterations of hypotheticals and versions of those hypothetical iterations. She’d imagined the good, the bad, the painful, and the words she might say to soften the blow. There was only one constant in each and every version: it wouldn’t be easy. It would be hard. It might even be impossible. 

It already was.

“How long have you been back?” Lena choked, carrying on like the cascade of blonde curls, piercing blue eyes, and a red cape appearing outside her office were a regular occurrence. Like it hadn’t just completely uprooted her life. 

She set the tablet down and ignored the weight of a stare that could scorch the earth. It was a stare that tracked her like she might suddenly disappear. Lena didn’t blame her - she’d already done it once. What she needed was a minute to organize her thoughts and steel herself from the confusion, pain, and hunger bound to be layered within that same stare.

“Not long.”

“You should be resting. The protocol-”

“I slept plenty on the ship.”

“Have you seen Alex?” Lena continued, hoping faux normalcy might elude the elephant standing behind her wife’s shoulder. That it might grant her another few seconds to brace for the oncoming battle.

“She can wait a minute longer,” came a reply edging toward frustration. Lena knew because she knew this voice; knew its wavers, inflections, and hesitations like the back of her hand. That knowledge didn’t stop her from staying the course.

“She’ll be relieved - excited, and Esme will just gush; you should call her at least-”

“Later-”

“You can borrow my cell-”

“Lena.”

And the force of her name on Kara’s tongue dragged Lena’s unwilling eyes to the woman standing in front of her. She looked exhausted and war-battered; of course she would. She lacked the wisps of gray that interrupted Lena’s own long strands of hair, but Kara’s kryptonian genes couldn’t hide the warryness in her eyes or the prostration of time in her shoulders.

But of course all of these changes were expected - five years could do that. What Lena didn’t expect was the intensity of Kara’s gaze. Behind the tired was a scowl of confusion. Behind the confusion were walls cautiously being erected at what she surely had begun piecing together.

“You’ve been to the house.” It wasn’t a question; Lena already knew this as the answer.

“You mean the one in National City or the penthouse in Metropolis? Because last time I checked, we only had one home, Lena.”

Unable to look any longer at Kara’s penetrating stare, Lena’s eyes fell to the gold band twinkling around Kara’s left ring finger, and she subconsciously clenched her own bare hands into fists.

[mrs-monaghan]



Tk being a couple makes literally ZERO sense. To truly believe they are a couple is wild AF!! I for one think Tae is quite obviously straight but let's look at more empirical evidence...what Tae and JK have actually said/done...

JK and Tae both admitted to having a falling out that lasted years 2016-2021.

Tae back in 2016 during the bungee jumping episode said: "I didn't notice Jk ignoring me because he always does."

We've all seen Jk and Tae's live interactions when it's just the two of them, look at their vlives and even Bon Voyages--they struggle to not be awkward when it's just the two of them. Some can claim it's because they are hiding but anyone with half a brain knows the difference.

Legit GCFT is a whole thing...no Bf would make a whole vlog with romantic music about another man...RM even said GCFT would get more views if it was with Tae but JK did it for Jimin

Speaking of GCFT, that whole trip was paid for by JK

Jk looked peeved when he had to share a room with Tae during BOn Voyage 3

Bon Voyage S1 Jk (in front of Tae) said he wanted to share a bed with Jm

Body language alone shows that they are nothing but bros

Tae...get out your imaginations

Also Tae looking smug (on multiple occasions) when talking about Jk and Jm hanging out all throughout the night

JK sucked JM's ear on stage

JM gave JK a hickey and laughed about to members

when JK was sick only JM was allowed to stay no other member, even JK wanted them all to leave but not JM he was okay with him staying behind.

Tae literally said that if he could be any member he wouldn't want to be JM or JK because something alongs the lines of they do weird things.

Tae slick acknowledging JM's preference for JK during that Live where they had to write a note for each member and then guess which member the note was written for and Tae was like "I know JM well and this is deff for JK"

JM and JK are always together (according to staff), always going home together, etc. etc. and Tae doesn't seem to care less

JK had his own room (when they all lived together) for a while but chose to sleep in the same room as Jihope and was their unofficial 3rd roommate...so much so that he was grouped with them on Muster.

JK being able to choose who he spends the most time with but when on tour he chose to always be with JM to the point Tae said he didn't know if the room was JM's or JK's. (Tae didn't seem to mind)

When JK needs comfort he seeks out JM, this is clear in behind the scenes moments.

JK called JM his all nighter friend and when JM should have been home (he was at home) he was with JK (for his birthday) crying about their Grammy nomination?!?

Tae not knowing Jk's room number when they go on tour and would have to text the group chat.

JK only giving JM bday presents for a good while.

Tae telling JM he liked him the most (not JK, Jimin)

JK saying he didn't talk to anyone but JM and J-hope when they were on like a 3 month break (but somehow he dating Tae and not talking to him?)

Tae not being apart of JK's bday activities when on break but JM flying across the country

oh and let's not forget that JK dedicated a whole live to watching videos about JM and then in his other lives became an absolute child in love whenever JM's name was mentioned. Oh and when JM came into the chat how he begged him to come over...changed his profile pic to JM etc. etc.

This list could go on and but I will stop here. This is not to say JK and Tae aren't friends...I think they have a close relationship but are quite obviously nothing more than friends. Like it's the most obvious thing ever and I don't know how this ship is so big or why people believe it. I know some ppl ship them for aesthetic purposes but to actually believe it means either one is blind...doesn't ever watch real content...brainwashed...or doesn't have a fully developed brain i.e. a child. The lack of critical/logical reasoning in that ship baffles my mind.

Taekook hanging out or standing next to each other is more proof of two people dating then GCFT, JK planning a whole ass trip for JM for his birthday, a hickey, JM traveling across the globe to be present for JK's bday, Or them spending time together at questionable hours . . .make it make sense?!?!

I could say so much more regarding my one on one interactions with taekook shippers young and old but I'll stop here.

Damn anon. I'm out of mic drop gifs. So here you go. Just take it.

[braimrotting]

My playlist as QSMP

(warning im shit at english lang so my interpretation of songs may be way off... im also ace and often miss romantic implication so.. yeah if a song has lyrics which are like about an s/o and i havent specified i probably dont mean for it to be shipping)

songs included: tongues & teeth (the crane wives), pink in the night (mitski), gb eating gb whilst listening to gb (crywank), going to brighton (fresh)

TONGUES & TEETH - The Crane Wives hideduo fit pov fit as a self serving survivalist from a wasteland experiencing love in this cursed fuckin island • "ive grown a mouth so sharp and cruel its all that i can give to you my dear" habits from 2b2t even little things like his lack of trust, hasnt confided his true intentions to anyone - constant lies by omission - hes flawed and hes recognised it • "if you're fine with that you can be mine like that" theres very much something going on with hideduo but fit is insistent on his baby steps bc he doesnt want to hurt pac. 'are you fine with that?' • "you gotta know that this wont last" this is soooo fit coded bffr. i adored the conversations fit n ramon had but one thing that stuck out to me was that he would always specify that only he and ramon would escape. never mentioned anyone else. selfish in the most understandable way • "i will ruin you, its a habit i cant help it" again 2b2t ingrained habits that never leave. linked w above point, hes selfish and that isnt necessarily a bad thing just not great for a blossoming relationship • "i will love u like the ashes in my cigarette box" hc 2b2t!fit smoked - ramon told him off once but now that the baby's gone hes picked it up again, a headcanon bc i cannot imagine ccfit smoking since hes such a health buff - feels so out of character lmao strong thoughts about qfit no one even try to fight me - his entire character occupies a space in my brain PINK IN THE NIGHT - Mitski phissa missa pov devotion easy • "i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you" • "can i try again and again and again" i dont think i need to say more - tbh this could go for guapoduo too but the "can i try again" made me think of missa + how he wants to live up to phils expectations

GB EATING GB WHILST LISTENING TO GB - Crywank phissa still missa pov

"in a busy room youre all i see" literally THEM sorry during the mexican independence event they were literally all they could see.. them doing the dance together - it may as well have just been the 2 of them + phil jumping in front of missa to take pics of him alone w/o him noticing

"calm down dont let her see how fast your heart is beating" missa saying "im speaking weird so the translator doesnt pick up, i love you" THIS GUYYYYYYYY

"i think about you but i know im not good enough" bffr mr missa "ill come back when im a good enough father" sinfonia

"and I built you up to much, now I can't say what's on my mind in case I go and scare you away" missa doesnt want to burden phil because he feels like hes been such a bad father compared to phils dedication - now that hes back he doesnt want to disappoint him anymore

"and how could i compete with the world at your feet" missa coming back to like 3 men at phils whim LMAO

"i wouldn't want to hurt you by letting you hurt me you don't deserve to feel guilty"

"i just want you in my life"

sorry im so obsessed with their puppy love GOING TO BRIGHTON - Fresh tubbo coded, i mean with the name i had to give it to him in my mind hes talkin to phil • "things i care the most about dont seem to ever get old" his excitement over everything even the simplest things is so refreshing • "i feel the fire inside me trains passing over head" his determination posing a unique threat to the feds and i feel like its such an important part of his character. also he likes trains :) • "there are things i learnt inside my head that they cant ever take away from me" lil bugs and just knowledge of the game make him a great bug tester for the admins lmao. this guy takes any chance to glitch his way through life

"starting over is a sign of strength"

also honorary mention to that one person who said the garden was codebreakerduo coded because you are so right and true and based and i think of that post everytime i listen to that song. being so normal by peach pit was very celltw (is that what pac and cellbit are called?) to me but i didnt really have much reasoning

[solitaire-sol]

Prongsfoot Week 2023 - Day 1

This... maybe got away from me a bit, but I'll take any chance to present my Prongsfoot ramblings in a semi-organized fashion!

When and Why did you begin to Ship Prongsfoot? What makes you Ship it? Basically, just gush on this ship.

Somewhat ironically, developing a NOTP led me to this OTP: Back when the books were still coming out, I was a Harmony shipper. (Not a crazy one, I swear!) This led to a lot of "discussions" with people who shipped other pairings, but most relevantly with several Sirius/Remus fans who were both extremely disdainful of my noncanon ship and adamant that their ship was, in fact, canon/eventual canon. This led to little Past Me re-reading the PoA and post-PoA books multiple times, trying and failing to see this "proof" of Wolfstar, but in the process paying a lot more attention to pre-Golden Trio characters. "Actually," I thought, "Sirius seems a lot more attached to Harry's dad than to Lupin. Huh." I found myself fascinated by their dynamic, by the hold Sirius' friendship with (and loss of) James had on Sirius, and how much is implied about James that we don't get to see (the Potter lineage, James "maturing," etc). Imagine my disappointment when not only was Sirius/James not popular, but Wolfstar, which didn't appeal to me, was only gaining steam (see: "Wolfstar is canon/eventual canon!"). Shipping wars were more 'maniacal sports fans' than 'political discourse' at the time, but between being deep into then-fandom and not liking Wolfstar, I found myself shipping Sirius/James almost by accident because… Well, it just made so much more sense.

Yes, James is dead before the series actually starts; yes, James marries a woman and has a son; but I've yet to meet a fandom that lets such paltry things as 'canonical facts' stop a ship, and it's always baffled me that Prongsfoot isn't more widely recognized for its potential, if nothing else. I will always believe this stems from a one-two punch of early HP fandom's obsession with canon vs noncanon, Jily being canon, which led to Wolfstar and the subsequent idea that Sirius "belongs" to Remus With the series completed, we have a surprisingly complex character in James, tantalizingly hinted-at if not explored in-depth, and we're given ample on-page examples of Sirius' exceptional qualities as well as his deep attachment to James, who must be exceptional himself to command this kind of devotion and affection. They're the most interesting characters to me, for what we see and what we don't see, and unlike a lot of other pairings they don't require a hammer and chisel to force them into a romantic mold: They're best friends and platonic soulmates, but they could just as easily be romantic partners and the shift feels completely natural. There's an equality and an authenticity to their partnership that I cherish deeply and don't find in a lot of their other ships, which often require them to be OOC… and if a fic doesn't include them as each other's best friend and Most Important Person, I consider it OOC.

In a way, lack of good James/Sirius friendship nudged me towards actual Prongsfoot because other ships de-emphasize the importance of James and Sirius in each others' lives to make the ship work, including outright giving their roles away, ex. someone else being the only person who can rein James in, Sirius running away to [name here] instead of to James. James and Sirius make each other more themselves, for better and for worse, and I honestly believe that they believe it's always for the better: They embrace each other's strengths and weaknesses, love each other for their flaws instead of despite them, support each other even after death (if the memory of James wasn't instrumental in Sirius surviving Azkaban, I'll eat my nonexistent hat). Sirius has so much devotion to James, enough to eat rats and face death for James' son, his godson, who he had a year of knowing before it all went to hell, that I find it hard to believe he had much room for anyone else; and from what we see, that devotion was absolutely reciprocated. Even after marrying Lily, even after Harry, JamesandSirius were such a thing that James' own wife writes to Sirius to say my husband is down and only you can make him feel better, not his wife or child or other friends. They would have buried bodies for each other, and I'd be surprised if that didn't actually happen off-page. What we see of their past makes it clear that they existed together in some rarefied space that would have absolutely continued regardless of who they dated or who they married or where they wound up. I'll always be a little sad that we didn't get more of these two in canon, and I'll always be equal parts frustrated and bewildered that these two are not the Marauder ship, or at least a much much more popular ship than they are.

Over time, the popular depictions of James and Sirius grew increasingly incompatible with the way I saw them, which is generally closer to canon: James is not an idiot jock or an indiscriminate bully (he's very discriminate, thank you) or an abuser, Sirius is not an idiot sex addict or peer-pressured by James into bullying (he's absolutely an active bully of Snape & Co) or there solely to fawn over Remus. This is also where I started to dislike Remus, sorry Remus fans, neither uwu softboi Remus and uberdom alpha Remus are my jam I eventually fell out of fandom in general and didn't think more than the occasional wistful thought until I re-read the books and had that Prongsfoot flame reignited, enough that I started to read HP fic and even write/post stuff again. I'm endlessly grateful for the authors who put such wonderful work out there, and for people who cultivate this little pocket of a fandom that's otherwise become alien to me, as someone who just doesn't get much of New Marauder Fandom and its ATYD influences.

James and Sirius are soulmates and friends-to-lovers and fluff and angst and boyish exuberance and the uncertainty of growing up, they're knowing you're meant to spend your lives together and struggling to exist when your other half is gone, they're sweet domesticity and the darkness of war and Good vs Evil and all the shades of gray, they're loving someone relentlessly and instinctively and maybe unwisely but knowing it's 100% reciprocated, no-strings-attached, because you can't be any other way and wouldn't change that (or them) if you could. There's just so many ways to explore Prongsfoot and all of it works because these boys contain multitudes, and I just want to gather all of it around me like a nesting squirrel and snuggle down amidst the Prongsfoot goodness.

[patron-minette]

BRUJON (my keyboard always puts his name in all-caps which…fine): 2, 3, 15, 25 (I think 25 is interesting because I know you have been familiar with these characters for years and I’m curious to know if/how your perceptions have shifted)

Hello again friend! Ahh!! Brujon!! I love talking about him :D

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

I love, love, love that Brujon writes songs and verses in his free time! Without a doubt, it's my favorite aspect of his character!

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

How dare you ask me to pick a least favourite trait! In truth, Brujon is literally a perfect character in my opinion, there is nothing that I actively dislike about him. But, since I must chose... I have one very minor gripe, which is that Brujon purposefully orchestrated the arrests of other Patron-Minette affiliates (Kruideniers, Bizarro, Glorieux) in order to divert the police force's attention from his own escape plans. Not cool, buddy, not cool— though I suppose getting a few of the gang's affiliated connections arrested was deemed worthwhile to aid Babet and Gueulemer in their escape (and, I cannot help but admire Brujon's genius scheming coming up with such a plan!)

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

Ah, well, I might be a little biased since I've sort of 'originated' an extremely niche ship (with you, of course!)… but Brujon x Azelma has my whole heart as a conceptual pairing! I've discussed this duo before... but in a nutshell, their shared quiet personalities, delicate expressions, and shared youth (along with the fact that they both seem to have been raised into the world of crime, even if we lack specific details about Brujon's upbringing) make me believe they could be a perfect match under the right circumstances! In some alternate reality, I envision them someday escaping the criminal lives they were thrust into and starting afresh, together.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Interestingly, I've had a bit of a love/hate relationship with Brujon over the years, which is more directed towards Hugo's allusion of the Brujon 'dynasty' than to the character of Brujon himself. On my initial read of the novel, the only thing that piqued my interest about Brujon was the criminal dynasty he hailed from. So, you can imagine my disappointment when I reached the end of the book only to find that the sole hint of this familial dynasty was the carving of Brujon's father's name on the walls of La Force. However, as time has passed, I've developed a newfound appreciation for the character and now consider him one of the most intriguing (and one of my personal favourite) minor characters in the novel. I've really grown to value his intelligence during Patron-Minette's escape from prison, I love how his cunning nature is so cleverly concealed behind that mournful look of his!

[Ask Game]

[miliwritesnow]

Hot Take?

We all know what an x reader is. It's a story made to cater to an audience who wants to put themselves into a story--- and stories do this by leaving the main character's name blank (or the abbreviated "your name:" Y/N) and making details about this character vague enough to fit anyone reading it. These changes include, but are not limited to: leaving character characteristics for readers to fill in, using neutral they/them pronouns, avoiding any imposing details, etc.

In short, x readers only ever serve the purpose of a temporary placeholder for a character. In many cases, these stories should only exist as one-off imagines or scenarios without specific substance. And yes, I'm aware that my definition of these types of stories may fall short, but to keep things brief, consider my definition of x readers when you read my hot take:

X Readers aren't good stories.

Wait! Before you condemn me and reach your pocket for stories are good xreaders, hear me out! I have several reasons for thinking this make sure you go through each one before leaving a comment!

Lack of Substance

The problem is that authors can't justify the many scenarios readers are placed in, so they sort of just have to make them happen. There's no context that carefully leads up to a scenario where the reader and character of interest do the thing that they do. The scenario is simply just there.

And sure, it's nice to imagine in the meantime, but when you take a step back and think, many times you can't fathom a reality where such scenario actually happens. The character of interest doesn't display their usual characteristics, and then they're also made to do things out of the confines of their personality.

Characters have to change in a story to meet this scenario. Their personality must morph and develop especially in romance, to be more affectionate and loving and comfortable with each other.

Given context, maybe there is a world where Bakugou smiles and laughs beautifully, a world where Midoriya confidently flirts with a girl, or a world where Todoroki isn't boring (sorry), but if you see these words without that proper context, it's outlandish and fails to stay true to their character.

Catering to Wide Audiences

Here is the biggest problem. Xreaders try to cater to as many people it can and will ultimately fail to do so, because in reality, people are different and you can't cater to everyone.

And because people are different, authors are caught in a bind when they're trying to tell a story but have severe limitations on what the main character can say or do or think.

The thing is, when you think of your favorite character, you know inherently that if their character is fleshed out enough, it's unavoidable that they will have their own preferences when it comes to the people that attract them. When people fall in love, it's important that the story explains the characteristics that make them fall in love in the first place, and as you know, when you start getting too specific, suddenly, half of the readers don't fit into the mold you've made for them.

You can see now where this is going. Suddenly your favorite character is falling in love with the reader for absolutely no reason (or worse, for a reason that doesn't make sense to the character). The author has no choice but to continue with the story to force the scenario to happen, and we loop straight back to my first point!

Why Good Xreaders Aren't Xreaders

Now I know what you're thinking. "Story x, y and z doesn't do that!" And that's true. There are many stories that follow an xreader format where the reader has an elaborate story, background and personality that makes sense for the character they're being shipped with. I know this because I've read such stories and have fully enjoyed it!

But at that point, isn't the reader just an OC without a name?

When I read really good xreader stories, I can't help but wonder if the author had a specific character already in mind, and just replaced their OC's name with y/n for the benefit of the tag or to attract readers, and there's nothing wrong with that! It's a good way to make sure your story gets read, and even I'm guilty of trying it out. In fact, dabbling with one-shots and scenarios have led me to making the exact same decisions to make a character ambiguous for the sake of readers.

But it's also because I tried out this medium that I realized its limitations, which is why I submitted this hot take on my blog.

Lessons, Takeaways and Further Discussion

While making scenarios of my own I learned that I really didn't like the xreader format as much as I thought I would. While it can be enjoyable to read, when you look at such stories closely, there's really nothing special about it in terms of writing. It can make the character of interest outlandish and ooc, or even force a certain narrative that doesn't quite fit.

But, in exploring the medium I at least got to learn that writing xreaders isn't conducive to improving storytelling, and that authors shouldn't fall into the trap of trying to cater to every reader that sees their work, because ultimately it is extremely difficult to do so. Instead, make your own character. Think about what your favorite anime character and love interest would like, what characteristics they need in a partner, and simply make that character for them! It's more fun to create the context and be the change that they need in order to have a happy love life (or a toxic one, if you're into that).

Ultimately, even as I lay my thoughts out I still have a lot of questions to the people who read this genre of writing, and I want to leave this blog open for discussion.

What makes xreader stories appealing to you?

What do xreader stories do well and why do you think they exist in the first place?

Do you agree or disagree with this take, and why?

I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts!

[tacticalhimbo]

20-25 for the edgy oc asks— for phoebe and franklin cs OH my god?? love

[ ask meme ]

OOUHGHHH this is gonna be fun to answer as an otp thing for them!

i haven't written anything really for franklin himself, but my partner roleplays him and i love xyr portrayal of him so will be pulling from that (which, fun fact, is kinda where the idea of them as an oc/canon ship started from... but i love it sm i decided to separate it from just rp and make it a standalone thing teehee)

but anyway! below the cut bc i rambled about them... oops ^-^;

20. Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

phoebe does, and i think for her a lot of it stems from the fact attachment to others in general is a sensitive topic. she lost her parents, her brother jumped ship (and she has gotten over that, they're on good terms and she understands why he left los santos with his wife), and she really just. has nobody. so she does get worried when the few people she does genuinely attach herself to seemingly show signs of pulling back. it manifests as her withdrawing and becoming defensive of herself (expecting that withdraw and thus pushing the other party away).

franklin also seems like he does, and it's understandable in his case too. he's lost a lot of folk in his life, and those who are around are so stuck in a specific mindset that he feels ostracized for questioning it/trying to do something different with himself. ironically, they kind of deal with it in the same way. he gets upset and defensive, and he'll withdraw from the situation/the person(s) involved.

when it comes to their relationship, it does create tension and strain. understandably so. but a little time apart to cool off is often enough for them to wander back and talk things through.

21. Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

phoebe has no physical illnesses, but she definitely has underlying mental health concerns due to discovering her parents after a break-in gone wrong. she tends to handle it by putting herself into adverse situations as one, they give her a chance to prove others (and namely, herself) wrong about a perceived lack of ability and two, they serve as a distraction. can't think about how shit you feel when you're being shot at!

as for franklin, i imagine they're pretty similar in that regard. he's seen a lot of things go on (and often, go wrong), that it's gotta weigh on him. it does weigh on him. we see that a lot in his dialogs with the other characters (and to himself). i don't remember if it's explicit or implied canon, but he has depression of some sort. as for handling it/coping with it, he does try to distance himself from things at times. but his conscience always gets the better of him, especially where people he cares about are involved (re: his shenanigans with lamar), and he gets roped back into things.

22. What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

honestly they both have chaotic good energy.

phoebe i know for a fact is! she's not afraid to call bullshit as she sees it, and will often go against the societal norm to make things right (laws and regulations be damned)

franklin on the other hand, does fit that vibe but he's also less? energetic about it. i mean, he is depressed, so i don't blame him for that. but at the end of the day, he just wants things to be right. he could arguably also fit into true neutral territory, but i don't feel like he's really the "it is what it is" type.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

easy answer for both of them: vulnerability. a lot of it is kinda repeat from the jealousy question, but genuinely?

it is so hard for them both to process anything that puts them at a perceived disadvantage socially. they've been through it. they've lost a lot. they don't want to appear 'weak' because it only further ostracizes them from the crowds they find themselves in.

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

i feel like, in an alternate life, phoebe either would have become some sort of influence or done work with animals. her sense of style is so bold and specific, and she does love engaging with new trends and keeping atop of that. of course, that's also expensive, and it likely would have become a side thing to working with animals. she never had pets until patches (her neighbors' boxer that she adopted out from them), but after taking care of him? yeah. she could see herself doing that on a larger scale/long-term. it's actually a back-burner kind of headcanon i have for her that, between heists, she does volunteer at the los santos county animal shelter. her life would have been very different; a lot more stable, frankly.

with franklin, we do get to see a look into an alternate life through the online lore re: him becoming the owner of a celebrity solutions agency (though his work is… very similar to the work he did with michael and trevor; just he's not on the ground as much and it's a lot more planned out/clean). that said, if he truly were to have an alternative life path, i feel like it would have been something with automotive work. as sleazy as simeon's business is, franklin seemed like he genuinely enjoyed working with the cars and prepping them for purchase/showcase! if he never got involved with michael and the boys(tm), his life would have been so much different.

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

oh man…

my favorite thing about phoebe, besides her sense of style, is just how down-to-earth she is at the end of the day. like. she really is just some person when the job is said and done. most of the stuff i've written for her privately/through rp aren't even like… heist related. it's just her being within the boundaries of los santos and existing. she's met ramón (other oc) and chatted with him. she's done gun-for-hire work for laverne (oc), and subsequently sat and had lunch with her by the pier. her, candy, and faye (ocs) are best fucking friends. they always have girls nights out together at the vanilla unicorn and to the pier and up to blaine county to fuck around in the desert.

and my favorite thing about franklin is just how much he actually cares about people. he tries to hide it, but we can see time and time again that he genuinely wants what's best/safest for everyone. like. his relationship with lamar?? and the way he interacts with imani (gta online npc; daughter of one of his longer-term friends, pearlie)??? obsessed. he's so fucking… good. he's a good man. and he deserves the world.

then, as a bonus, my favorite thing about them/their relationship is how much they balance each other out. how they've become a safe space for one another, where (even if their psyches get the best of them) they can be vulnerable and wholly trusting about themselves, their thoughts, and their emotions. they fuck around and get into trouble, sure, and they have a lot of fun doing it...

but at the end of the day, their favorite thing to do is just exist together. turn on whatever shitty movie re-run is playing on the television, cuddle up on the couch, and just. exist. and i just think that's neat.

[skyler10fic]

Sweet Like Honey: Ch. 4 I Will Be Your Lighthouse Keeper

Today’s adventures include a lighthouse tour that becomes a metaphor, a shopping trip for family souvenirs, and a romantic sunset cruise with more dancing. 

Read on Ao3

@flufftober's Ocean, love, and general June Pride/queerness prompts

-----------------

Late in the morning, Daisy and Carol emerged from their honeymoon suite, fully rested and ready for a day of exploring Cape Cod. Daisy wore a navy sundress with red bike shorts underneath, a floppy hat, and oversized sunglasses. Carol, in contrast, wore a white tank top covered by an open red button-up shirt, khaki shorts, a baseball cap, and aviators. They had light jackets, nicer pants (for Carol), and leggings (for Daisy) in their daypack to change into before their sunset cruise so they wouldn’t have to go back to the room and had more time to explore. They walked out the doors of the resort and down to the village with their pinkies loosely entwined, the quintessential honeymooning sapphic couple.

A bus pulled up to a stop advertising another nearby town with the lighthouse, so they stepped on board and dropped the fare into the box by the driver. Only once they were on board and seated did they see the busker, a guitarist with her harmonica. The woman sitting next to the busker turned to the rest of the dozen or so passengers.

“Any requests?” She looked to Daisy and Carol in particular and smiled at Carol’s arm around Daisy.

“Strawberry Blonde,” Daisy called out. The women nodded with a shared knowing look and complied.

“I love everybody because I love you,” the singer began as her partner played. The rest of the bus joined in as she reached the chorus. “Look at you strawberry blonde, fields rolling on, I love it when you call my name.”

Daisy and Carol joined in the group singalong as they drove, but Daisy’s attention was clearly on her favorite blonde right next to her, though hers lacked the namesake red tones in favor of a golden honey. When the song was done, someone else requested “Closer to Fine,” which carried them all the way into the next town.

They tipped the buskers, disembarked, and headed to the lighthouse for the tour, followed by a few of their fellow bus passengers. The pathway wasn’t long but provided a beautiful walk with sea views expanding out all around them as they reached the hill leading up the lighthouse and accompanying small museum in the keeper’s house.

They explored the museum before their tour, taking in the long maritime history and the stories of lives lived here with narrative exhibits and historical items on display.

“Imagine,” Carol said dramatically, coming up behind Daisy and placing her hands on Daisy’s biceps. “You’ve been sailing all the way from Europe and then you see it, this light on the horizon. You made it across the ocean to the other side. Your first glimpse of a new life.”

“Not gonna lie, I’m with this chick who was just glad to get off the boat,” Daisy said, pointing to the display in front of her with the photo of a young woman and her account of arriving at the Cape on a ship 200 years ago.

Their tour guide called all the museum guests to assemble, and they delved further into the history and science of maintaining a lighthouse over hundreds of years, including coastal erosion, changing trade products, and shipwrecks leading to local legends. The dozen tourists followed the guide to the lighthouse proper and climbed the five stories to the top, including the last portion that was more of a ladder than a staircase. Carol enjoyed the view before reaching the top, though, as she could see right up Daisy’s sundress. She suddenly understood the bike shorts underneath and why Daisy wanted Carol to be behind her instead of some random tourist.

To hint that she had picked up on this, when they were at the top looking out at the water, Carol put her arm around Daisy and whispered, “Did I mention I like this dress?”

“I thought you might.” Daisy simply smiled and admired the sailboats on the ocean. Carol noticed Daisy’s sunglasses were tucked into the front of her dress, in between her breasts. It wasn’t overly revealing, but Carol appreciated the view here as well.

Without taking her eyes off the boats, Daisy scolded, “Stop looking at me and look at the ocean!”

They giggled and received a stern frown from a professorly old tourist, undoubtedly here to write a book or research some old forgotten history. Chastised, they stepped out of his way to a different window and took photos of the views: sand dunes and towns and cliffs and beaches and endless deep blue with dots of white floating along its currents. Carol remembered her earlier words about imagining this lighthouse before GPS and sonar navigation, the warning on a stormy night, the welcome and relief it must have provided, the promise of a safe harbor and a hot meal or a return home to a loved one’s embrace.

“Longing for a sea voyage?” Daisy inquired, noticing Carol’s far-away expression.

“Nah,” Carol answered contentedly. “I was thinking about us, and how every time I come home from being gone for work, you’re my lighthouse. And that must have been how it felt for the sailors seeing this. Not just for navigating, but giving them hope, knowing they had someone waiting for them at home.”

“Ah,” Daisy teased, “so I’m your little wife with the fire on the hearth and you get to sail out there and have adventures?”

“Hey, don’t blame me.” Carol shrugged with open palms of innocence. “Talk to Potts and Stark who keep sending me places without you. I’d rather have you right there beside me. And you go to all of the cybersecurity conferences without me too.”

“I know, I’m just kidding,” Daisy reassured. “What you said about hope, that’s beautiful. And you’re my lighthouse too. I’ll always come home to you.”

Carol pecked a kiss to Daisy’s lips but noticed that they were the last ones of the tour still left and the tour guide was waiting on them. They apologized and hurried down the stairs and out to the grounds, where they quickly donned their sunglasses in the full brightness of the afternoon sun.

“Wait,” Daisy stopped Carol before they left the lighthouse behind completely. “We should get a selfie.”

“Yes!” Carol posed with Daisy and they took a few photos, both silly and normal, and Daisy sent one of each to her parents and the wedding party group chat.

They slowed as they reached the path back to the town and wandered until they found a sandwich shop that seemed popular but with a short enough line, dying down after the lunch rush.

They took their sandwiches to-go and sat on a driftwood bench on a hill overlooking the shore. Children played below, providing free entertainment as they ran in and out of the waves.

“We should get a souvenir for Monica at that toy shop in the village,” Daisy suggested. “What do you think she’d like?”

Carol thought as she ate. “Maybe bath toys, like a little sailboat, or sea animals? Is she too old for bath toys?”

“I’ll ask Maria.” Daisy wiped her hands on a paper napkin from the bag her sandwich came in and got out her phone to text her. Instead of a text reply, however, her phone started ringing for a video chat. Daisy showed Carol and they exchanged a confused look. Maria wasn’t usually one to video chat out of the blue, especially about a simple question.

The puzzle was resolved when Daisy answered and Monica’s face lit up the screen.

“Hi Auntie Daisy!” Monica waved at the camera. Carol scooted in and Daisy held the phone out further so Carol was in the frame too. “Hi Auntie Carol!”

“Hey Lieutenant Trouble,” Carol greeted. “Is your mom around?”

Monica put a sassy hand on her hip. “Are you asking because you wanna get me a present?”

Daisy laughed. “You read my text, huh? I guess I could ask you yourself. Would you want some bath toys as your souvenir?”

Monica pursed her lips. “I don’t really play with bath toys anymore. I’m a big kid. But I love other toys!”

“Okay, we’ll find a big kid toy then,” Carol assured.

Monica bounced and danced around as she asked, “Is your trip fun? Are you making new friends? Are you eating all the ice cream you want?!”

“Yeah,” Daisy answered. “Not ice cream specifically, but actually, there have been some good desserts and new friends. And it’s really pretty here. Want to see?”

“Yes, yes! Pleeeease.” Monica stood still and looked closer as Daisy flipped the camera around and showed her the lighthouse, the village, and then the ocean with the sailboats and seagulls, and then flipped the camera around again so Monica could see them.

“Next time, I wanna come,” Monica asserted. Maria walked into the room and Monica said, “Mooom, I want to go to Cape Cod!”

Maria laughed. “Did you call Daisy and Carol on their honeymoon?” She leaned down to see. “Hi, y’all. Sorry.”

“No, no,” Daisy assured. “I was texting you to ask what she might want as a souvenir, but we got to ask her herself, so it all worked out.”

Maria raised an eyebrow at Monica. “Anything they get you is a gift of love and you will appreciate it.”

Carol stepped in. “Want to see the sights? We were just showing Monica around this little village we’re exploring today.”

Daisy didn’t wait for an answer to repeat her visual tour. Maria enjoyed the views and sat down so Monica could climb into her lap and they could both see the phone as they talked.

“We’re going on a boat tonight to see the sunset,” Daisy said. “And then tomorrow we might go to the beach.”

“Are you going to build a sandcastle?” Monica asked. “If I went to the beach, I’d build a sandcastle taller than my head!”

Carol laughed. “Yeah, maybe we will.” The connection froze and a noisy crowd walked by, distracting them for a minute.

“When are you coming home?” Monica pouted. “I miss you.”

“We’ll be home next weekend,” Daisy promised. “We miss you guys too.”

Maria held Monica close and said, “We should let you two go enjoy the sites. Thanks for checking in. We love y’all.”

“Love you!” Carol and Daisy returned in unison.

Monica blew them a kiss, and they hung up the call. “Well, we better figure out what a big kid toy is,” Carol said. “Because now she’s definitely expecting one.”

Carol stood up and Daisy followed, taking their trash to the nearby bin before they continued down the path to the shopping street.

Daisy giggled. “I love it. I love being Auntie Daisy.”

“You know, we get all the best parts of spoiling cute kids,” Carol agreed. “Do you think Alfie will be jealous? We could get him the bath toys.”

“Sounds like a plan. Then something for the parents and aunts. And maybe something for us to remember the trip by.”

Carol put her arm loosely around Daisy’s waist as they wandered toward the shops and through the noisy crowds of tourists. “I already have an idea for that, but let’s focus on the others first.”

Daisy would have pressed further, but a group of teenage bicyclists turned the corner without stopping and raced past them. Carol pulled Daisy out of the way and off the path just in time.

“My hero,” Daisy praised, wide-eyed from the sudden fright. “That was a close call.”

“I got you.” Carol squeezed her hand on Daisy’s waist and kissed her temple, just grateful that she’d seen the teens before anyone got hurt. They kept walking, keeping a closer watch on their surroundings and other tourists as their heartbeats calmed back down.

“Let’s try this one,” Daisy said, heading toward the nearest souvenir shop. It was a relief to get out of the narrow, busy shopping area and into a calmer store. It extended back farther than anyone would assume from the outside, and they weaved through rows of Cape Cod kitsch looking for gifts to bring home or send to the aunts.

“How about this for Aunt Wendy and Aunt Victoria?” Carol held up a clear glass bottle with sand and seashells inside and Cape Cod printed on the outside.

“Eh.” Daisy shrugged. “Maybe an oven mitt and tea towel set?” Crabs and lobsters decorated the ones she held up.

“I don’t know that they are big into kitchen stuff.” Carol frowned. They had video-chatted and had stayed with each other on vacations to each other’s cities, but she hadn’t spent enough in-person time with them to know the perfect gift.

Daisy wandered over to a fake pine tree with ornaments hanging off. “I feel like I should know this, but we haven’t been there for the holidays and I can’t remember. Do they put up a tree at Christmas? Do you think they’d like an ornament from here?”

Carol looked closer at the selections. One was a fishing boat that said it was made from authentic reclaimed ship wood and another was a porcelain white lighthouse wrapped in a thin rainbow. The bottom specifically advertised Provincetown, the city near their resort known for its queer culture.

“For a cheesy souvenir shop, these are pretty good,” Carol remarked. “Yeah, let’s get these. Do you think your parents would want an ornament too?”

“Yeah, what about this?” Daisy held up one that was a chain of real seashells with “With love from Cape Cod” printed on the inside of the last and largest one.

“Looks good to me.” Carol wandered to the postcards and picked out a few. She showed them to Daisy, who nodded her approval and picked out two more. They perused T-shirts, but the only person they could picture appreciating one was Phil.

“I think chocolates for Mom,” Daisy sighed. “I just don’t see her wearing any of this.”

“Hey, those chocolates in the room were really good.” Carol said it as if she was defending Daisy’s choice for Melinda, but Daisy saw right through her.

“What if we go there next and sample a few? Just to make sure we’re getting her the right ones?” Daisy grinned and winked.

“Definitely a smart plan.” Carol nodded seriously. They checked out and headed toward the chocolate shop, but the scents wafting from an upscale boutique caught Daisy’s attention.

“Wait, smell this.” Daisy approached the cart outside, serving its purpose of luring in customers, and sprayed the scent on a paper test strip for Carol. “What does that smell like to you?”

Carol smelled it and had to do it again as an olfactory double-take. “No… That’s it. That’s my perfume from sophomore year.”

“Mmhm. Do you remember who got you that perfume?”

Carol tilted her head and smelled the test paper again. “It was from a Secret Santa thing.”

Daisy lifted an eyebrow and smiled knowingly.

“It was you?!” Carol accidentally shouted. She noticed a few people looked her way and she said more quietly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Daisy shrugged and blushed. “I thought you knew. You always wore it around me.”

“Uh, yeah, because it was special and romantic and grown up to wear perfume, and I wanted you to notice me.”

Daisy watched, amused, as Carol sprayed the tester bottle on her wrists. Daisy lifted Carol’s left wrist to her nose. “Strawberries and cream and bergamot and you. The perfect combination.”

Carol held up the bottle to read its label. “I always assumed it was raspberry and vanilla.”

“Nope. I’ve studied it thoroughly,” Daisy confessed. “It used to drive me wild every time you’d wear it. I just wanted to jump you, like, every time. And then by the time we actually got together like that…”

“I lost it moving out one summer.” Carol cringed. “I think one of my housemates stole it.”

“Well, we have another opportunity now. And this is honestly the real thing in a much nicer bottle, not just the copycat for college student budgets.” Daisy picked up a sealed box containing a full bottle from the cart and brought it in to the shop to pay.

“Wait, we haven’t found something for you,” Carol said, wandering to the rest of the store.

“We haven’t?” Daisy winked.

“Okay, then reverse it for me too,” Carol challenged. “I want to get you something that is really for you, not just by extension.”

“Hm,” Daisy wandered over to the display of samples Carol was sniffing. “This one sounds good. Sandalwood, vanilla, and coconut.”

“Or this is neroli, aka orange oil, cinnamon, and amber with notes of cashmeran. Not sure what that is.” Carol picked up another and read the box. “Or this one has tonka bean. What’s a tonka bean?”

“I honestly have no idea. Lavender, iris, and eucalyptus?” Daisy held up the tester paper and Carol smelled it with a contemplative air.

“Very relaxing. Okay, now this one says it has notes of rose champagne with wild berries, hints of almond, and vanilla bean. So yes, sort of like mine but different. And also like our wedding cake? But it doesn’t smell like cake; those are just the scents they list on the box.” Carol handed over the tester paper she’d sprayed.

“Oh, wait, I really like that. What do you think?” She picked up the sample bottle and sprayed her wrist. Carol smelled it on her and raised her eyebrows in surprised delight. A pleased smile bloomed.

“That’s the one. If you like it. But I really do, personally. On you.” Carol tried to be chill but Daisy could tell it was an instant turn-on. Carol made sure no one was watching and brushed Daisy’s hair back. She kissed Daisy’s collarbone lightly, then subtly stepped away and sprayed the perfume on the spot she’d kissed. Carol looked like she was receiving a treat when Daisy picked up a sealed box to add to their purchases.

Yeah, this was the one.

They checked out and decided the toy shop was next. And it didn’t take long. They passed toys that were obviously aimed at children much younger or much older than Monica, until they came to a carousel full of familiar well-dressed multicolored animals.

Carol tapped Daisy’s arm. “Is that Mr. Unicorn Sparkles?”

Daisy smiled and caught on. “And Captain Penguin in her uniform. I don’t know that one, though.” She picked up a seal in a Hawaiian shirt and denim skirt. The tag read “Limited edition! Suzie Seal lives on the Cape Cod coastline. Learn more about protecting seal habitats” with a QR code to scan.

“Suzie Seal,” Carol addressed the toy. “You’re coming with us to a very good home. And don’t worry, we have your swimsuit too.” She picked up a beach accessory pack with a neon yellow skirt and hot pink bikini top, towel, sunglasses, and umbrella.

After Monica’s gift was purchased and added to their bag, the village’s annual free historic home and garden tour just happened to be that afternoon, and then they saved shopping for chocolates last so they wouldn’t melt in the heat of the day. They did make it to the chocolate shop before it closed, however, and selected a few for themselves as well as gift boxes as souvenirs for their friends and family.

The temperature was getting cooler as the evening breeze blew in from the sea. In a beachside changing room, Carol switched her shorts to pants, and Daisy switched from her bike shorts to leggings. They also got out their jackets and then stored their purchases in their day pack with their shorts, sunglasses, and hats. Grateful she’d thought to store a travel-sized brush in the bag before they left, Carol redid her ponytail that had gotten frizzy and tangly with the ballcap and wind throughout the day while Daisy touched up her makeup.

By now, they were tired and hungry for real food, so eating dinner and making their sunset cruise boat on time were their main priorities. A little Chinese place had good online ratings and was across from the dock, so they sat down at one of the red-painted picnic tables in its outdoor seating area. It was young and trendy but with menus in English on one side and Mandarin on the other. Daisy studied it as they waited and taught Carol the key words.

“I remember more of this than I thought,” Daisy commented in excitement and glanced up at Carol, who was admiring her with heart-eyes so strong she could have been an emoji.

“I love when you teach me things,” Carol sighed happily. “It reminds me of when we studied together in college, and I’d ask you to explain stuff just because you were so smart and hot.”

Daisy laughed and hinted, “I could teach you more things. Very sexy things.”

“Oh yeah?” Carol leaned in.

Daisy mirrored her and used her most seductive tone. “First we’d have a glass of wine, I could buy something special, and then you know what I’d do? Mmm, I’d set up a password manager so you don’t leave little bits of paper with important information around the house.”

Carol scowled playfully.

“Okay, okay,” Daisy conceded. “And then I can teach you some new kung-fu stances and correct your form with a very hands-on approach?” Daisy ran her hand up Carol’s forearm in illustration.

Carol nodded. “That’s more what I’m talking about.”

Daisy laughed. “I thought so. But we’re still doing the password one too.”

“Fair enough. And maybe you’d want to come run with me in the mornings?”

Daisy considered it. “Just running or would we have a goal in mind?”

Carol got out her phone and scrolled through her running club’s website. “Would you want a goal? Like maybe running a 5k with me? There’s one in September where the entry fee is a donation to raise money for a new food bank in the city.”

Daisy sat back and pictured running side by side with Carol through a finish line, knowing their celebration wasn’t just personal but helping others. “Yeah, a 5k is perfect, especially for a good cause. You know me, I need a motivation to get up that early or it just feels like there’s no point to it.”

The waitress came to take their order, but when she was gone, Carol leaned in again.

“Tomorrow?”

“We’re going to the beach tomorrow,” Daisy countered.

“There’s a path that runs right along the shore. We can find a good spot to come back to.”

Daisy could tell she wasn’t going to win this one. “That’s smart too, get the lay of the land, as my dad would say.” She did her best Phil impression and mimed searching the coastline with her hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

“He would,” Carol laughed. “Did anyone ever respond to that selfie we sent with the lighthouse?”

Daisy showed Carol their replies. As usual, “awesome” and a sunglasses face and thumbs up from Melinda and a GIF from Phil that said “WOW!” with confetti.

Their food came and they spent the rest of the meal responding to their nerdy friends’ questions in the group chat about the lighthouse’s history (Jemma), construction (Fitz), and number of floors/stairs (Elena), as well as hopes that they were having fun (Mack) and several heart emojis with a comment about how happy they looked (Maria).

They finished eating, paid, and noticed the time as a crowd lined up at the dock to get on the boat.

“I’m glad we ate here or we could have missed it!” Daisy said as they rushed over to join the queue.

“And I’m glad I got us digital tickets.” Carol held up her phone and the crew member at the end of the line scanned the QR code to let them line up to board. The sun played its role, low in an evening sky full of wispy, round, high clouds.

While they waited for the other passengers to board and for the crew to ready the boat, Daisy and Carol took photos together before the light got too dark and, later, of the sunset as they sailed and the colors shifted. Sure enough, as they set sail into deeper and deeper waters away from the shore, the colors began. The passengers settled in on deck chairs or leaned on the railing to view the show: yellows and oranges, pinks and purples, fading to periwinkle across the sky. Crew service staff brought around champagne flutes, and the passengers sipped and mingled. Twilight fell and the stars began to come out over the water, so lights on the boat turned on, revealing a crisscrossing set of string lights under the open area on the deck. Romantic jazz music began to play from the boat’s speakers, and couples swayed along until a group of couples traveling together finally got the dancing started under the lights.

Daisy took Carol’s empty champagne flute and placed it and her own on an empty tray of a waiter passing by. She held out her hand and Carol took it, following her to the dance floor—or anywhere, really, that she would lead.

Michael Buble’s version of “The Way You Look Tonight” started slow before kicking into a more upbeat jazzy chorus, and they danced for the third time in four days.

“We’re getting better,” Daisy quipped. “Going to have to start adding in some moves.”

“Oh, like this?” Carol lifted their hands and spun Daisy under and toward her so they were embracing back to front, then out again with their arms straight, and then together again face to face. Luckily, it had been Carol’s turn to wear the daypack so it was out of the way on her back for all of the fancier swinging and twirling. They certainly looked like dorky tourists, but it didn’t matter. In their minds, they were the only ones on the dance floor.

“I love dancing with you.” Daisy adjusted their hands so their fingers intertwined. “We don’t get to dance like this much in normal life.”

“Yeah, we used to go to the dances in college, but there’s nothing like that now. Except things like this. Or weddings.”

“Ours will always be the best, obviously,” Daisy prefaced, “but I am looking forward to going to other people’s weddings with you and being able to say, ‘Well, at our wedding…’”

“Or offering advice at bridal showers and receiving lines like those couples the other day.” Carol grinned at the memory of all the unsolicited “words of wisdom” they had been given.

“Oh my god, did you hear that one old guy—had to be someone’s plus one—who was giving all this sexist advice and totally didn’t register that, hello, you’re at a gay wedding. We’re both the wife in the relationship. That’s kind of the point.” Daisy laughed.

“Yes! I still have no idea which one of us he was aiming that toward.” Carol’s laughter faded back into romanticizing. “I’ll always be your plus one, giving extremely queer advice to all the newlyweds.”

“Back atcha.” Daisy winked.

The music played slower and slower romantic songs as they sailed back to port. As they docked, the final song was “So Long, Farewell,” from The Sound of Music. The passengers recognized it and chatted, amused, as they disembarked.

Exhaustion hit Carol and Daisy as soon as they were ashore. They rambled back to the bus stop and leaned on each other on the ride back to the resort.

The rest of their night was uneventful as they prepared for bedtime. If they were going to start running together in the morning, they knew they needed to get to sleep, as tempting as it was to kiss forever in the glorious, luxurious double-headed shower.

[sorcerous-caress]

I’m a die hard Shart’zel shipper (Astral Hearts too I guess, shadowheart does have two hands). But now I can’t stop thinking about Yeehaw Shart and and Yeehaw Bae’zel both being rival bounty hunters that are forced to work together to catch a criminal on the loose. The increasing tension between the two as they spend more time together. One of them has to come out on top eventually (pun intended).

-Ex-lurker

Ngl anon I have no eggs in the bg3 shipping basket. I haven't even dipped a toe in that pool yet, I'm barely aware of the ship names let alone what's the popular dynamics in them.

The only ship I'm a complete die-hard for, is me and Shadowheart's dad.

But i love talking about topics i know very little about so here are my two cents.

The reason Shadowheart hates gith is because of the artifact mission she went through right? She saw how brutal they were and that she was the only survivor.

Laezel doesn't hate Shadowheart from the start, she treats her with the same indifference and disdain she does with anyone else. But the more Shadowheart is openly hateful towards her, the more Laezel grows aggressive.

The thing is, both of them are similar in the way they can be "too mean" or "too snide" for other people's liking. Laezel would openly insult you and see nothing wrong with it if it's a fact, Shadowheart would tease and bully you over small things like she does with Astarion and Gale.

In theory, they make great friends.

Which is why I think it was Shadowheart who extended the olive branch after holding a knife against Laezel's throat. When she saw she couldn't kill her, she thought it would be better to have her as a friend instead.

And they really grow on each other, sure they're still mean and the snide comments never stop, but it's more playful or mutuality agreed on now.

They have a special kind of connection that both of them lack with the other companions who are either "too nice" or "too stoic and cold" (cough Minthara)

If we're in this yeehaw cowboy universe, I'd imagine that Shadowheart also stole an important artifact from Laezel's people.

They end up working together for a common enemy, Laezel finds out about the stolen artifact, drama ensures. They have this whole talk of "we need each other, like it or not" and agree not to kill each other until they catch the criminal.

But oh! They slowly start actually enjoying each other's company. Laezel is more funny than Shadowheart cares to admit with her dry humour, and Shadowheart is more beautiful than Laezel wants to admit.

Then when they finally find the criminal, one of them gets the golden opportunity to catch them and become the hero of her people.

But what's that? Catching the criminal right now would cost the life of the other women? And even if they swore to kill each other, something stirs deep between them as they decide to save the other one and letting the criminal escape.

They both are aware of this silent confession, of the weight that decision held. Yet both of them refuse to speak about it or acknowledge it.

[vote-gaara]

So we all love Gaara because we've seen so much footage of him, but how do you think an s/o would fall for him without all that?

Well...

They'd probably think he is handsome, make a move and immediately think that he isn't interested in them.

After all, he's not responding to any of their flirting! Could it be that he already has eyes on someone else? Maybe he's just politely shutting them down? Perhaps he just wants to keep things professional?

Turns out it's none of these things, and Gaara - I say this with the upmost affection - is just an idiot.

He needs someone who is able to work with their gut feelings, and take his lack of responding to their advances not as personal rejection, but as "this man doesn't have a damn clue in the whole world."

This person would need to have the confidence, maturity and chill to navigate a relationship with someone who holds the title of Kazekage, and not be upset if he prioritizes the village over them.

They would also need the confidence to just ask, "Do you have a girlfriend because I would love to go to dinner with you?"

After that, it would just be basic courting but maybe on hard mode, as Gaara - again - is really really not good with these types of things. It would benefit this potential SO to perhaps write on their hand "he's interested, he's just also an idiot" as a reference for when the conversation drags a little.

The ship would probably sail itself because Gaara actually has a lot of really amazing qualities and attributes for a man, and he would definitely make an amazing partner, so long as his SO knows that the village comes first....There's only 1 (one) hang up.

Now I imagine myself going on a date with someone. Things are going well, he's a little reserved but looks genuinely interested in me. He is thoughtful, polite and the things he does say come from the heart. He's ticking ALLLLL the boxes.

Then he says "before we continue, I have to tell you something important."

And I - of course - nod along encouragingly, but noting my heart starts to sink a bit. Does this man have kids? Is he in the middle of a divorce? Is he about to move countries?

Nope!

Murderer.

Not even "I murdered people because it's my job."

It's "I murdered people because it's my job and also because I wanted to between the ages of six and twelve."

I WOULD YEET MYSELF INTO THE NEAREST CAR OUTSIDE THE RESTURAUNT, SCREAMING "DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE! I GOTTA CHANGE MY NAME AND MY NUMBER AND OH GOD, DOES HE KNOW WHERE I LIVE?????"

It would be jarring to say the least.

Yet with the right person, and by Gaara being full transparent, I do think a SO would be able to warm up to him again. I think the deciding factor is that Gaara wouldn't really pressure them into it. He would tell them, not because he's scared they would find out on their own, but because he would think it would be important for them to make an informed choice.

It would be a big deal breaker, and it would really be up to the person to decide where they sit with it - if they're willing to overlook it and forgive him or if it's just too heinous for them.

Either way, Gaara would be happy that they got to decide for themselves, and though he would be disappointed if they never called him back, he would have wanted to put the power in their hands.

If, however, the person did call him back, he would be elated and then the bus would simply just drive itself.

[angstydisaster02]

#bkdk where omega Izuku is in labor, his mate Katsuki stands by his side, and the two welcome their second child.

The nurse smiled, went outside, and asked their first Mahoro to join the labor room. She doesn’t have a lot of time, only a few minutes. She’s surprised and excited to see her new sibling, but she’s ready.

When she entered the room, there was no one except Izuku. The white walls were covered by light, and a green and low sheet covered his dam’s legs. Izuku was wearing hospital clothes, white like the snow, but the bags under his eyes were enough to see how many hours he was here.

The ten yo girl was shy at first.

It was new, and she was stressed due to the lack of time. The nurse told her that she only had a few minutes, and she was mesmerized by seeing his dam smiling at her and holding a newborn. Her brother was smaller than she taught, and from what she knew, he was clean. It was enough to see the smallest details in his face, and a sudden urge to take him into his arms reached her mind, but she couldn’t…because she’ll find this joy in a few hours.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Izuku smiled, making her signs come closer. The girl was afraid, but she trusted the freckled man more than anyone.

“Are you alright ?” Mahoro asked, but she couldn’t keep her eyes away from the newborn standing on his dam’s chest. He was sleeping, but it was the sweetest thing she had ever seen.

“I’m kinda exhausted, but I’m fine.” He said. From here, he could see how their firstborn had many questions but kept them to herself, afraid to waste time or say anything wrong.

“What’s his name ?” She asked, her fingers ruffling the chubby freckled cheeks.

“Katsuma,” Izuku answered with a soft and comforting tone. The previous doubts he could read into their daughter’s face faded away as she was slowly but surely making the first bond with her sibling.

Unfortunately, Mahoro couldn’t say anything else before the previous nurse came to the room and said it was time to go.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Izuku comforted her as the smaller figure took the woman’s hand. “We’ll see each other tomorrow when they authorize a visit, alright ?”

Mahoro nodded a smile on her face but a sad feeling in her chest. She didn’t want to leave, but she had to, and she knew she’d never forget this moment.

“I’ll be the first one to visit !” She smiled, waving goodbye to the freckled man. “Get some rest !”

Izuku thanked her, and he watched the door closing, followed by someone else. A bright smile appeared on his face as Katsuki walked by his side, putting his hands around his shoulder.

“You’ve done a great job, deku.” He kissed his mate’s forehead. He knew the nerd was already missing their daughter, but she was safe.

——

“So…” Mitsuki asked, sharing à face with her husband and grandma Inko. “How was it?”

Mahoro smiled. “It was strange at first, but it was shorter than I expected!”

“How is he ?” Inko asked with a smile old her face, seeing the happiness in her granddaughter’s eyes. “How’s your brother ?”

“He’s so small and…so pretty !” The girl answered, telling them she couldn’t wait for tomorrow to see her parents again.

— End —

Author’s note: inspired by real life because imagine Mahoro is the person writing behind the screen when my brother was born because it was an exception. I made sure to transcribe everything, the memories, the feelings, and the frame my memories saved from that short and intense moment. It’s a memory I’ll cherish every day and I wanted to do the same with my comfort ship and their family!

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it and take care of yourself <3

[diagonal-queen]

thungo thursday: how the hell did we get here so fast

'dad never even came to pick me up' SAME AYA LMAOO

they really did make the right choice for bram's va. i don't remember his name but all i know is that he's a seasoned anime va, but it like REALLY fits him fr

i'll never get over how much i love this intro you guys like it's so chaotic and colourful and dark and granrodeo is so good and this song especially is so epic and kishow supremacy

OH MY GOD watching chuuya struggle to breathe is like stressing me out so much that i need to pause and take deep breaths of my own lmao

AYO WHY DOES DAZAI LOOK LIKE A CRYPTID LMAOOOO

also i'm so jealous of him being able to cup sigma's cheek while I cannot

dazai and sigma are so weird to me as a ship because most of the ships i like are '[character that is just like me] + [character who i would have a crush on if i knew them]' but i kin both dazai and sigma so it's like watching the two opposite sides of me frolick around and it's so chaotic

sigma, literally drowning: 😰😰😰😰😰 dazai, also drowning: •-•

if i had a nickel for every time dazai stood on sigma's back/shoulders while they were breaking out of prison i'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

(yes i know i use that meme format a lot NO I WON'T STOP)

WET CAT SIGMA (and no i didn't replay the sounds of him gasping for air, why on earth would you think that)

we have both now <3333333333 thumbs up dazai best dazai

imagine someone asks atsushi how he knew to do things or how he had the mind to move forward and he replies 'the voices' but like he's deadly serious and it actually was the voices

wait dazai literally did that to sigma in prison didn't he shfkjhdhgjkhsk

wait so in the manga sigma can read russian, but in the anime he can't? is bones actively bimbo-ifying characters??? how are we letting this slide

akutagawa doing some goku type shit is the funniest thing ever bro actually said 'SHIAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH'

bones you don't need to remind us all about how much you fucked up akutagawa's death scene ok. his dub va literally predicted that his death would be done poorly and he was RIGHT ABOUT IT

(who would win. gonta and monokuma vs dazai and akutagawa)

if dazai's got a broken leg and losing blood very quickly then why is he grunting and moaning like that huh what's that all about

YEAH GET FUCKED FYODOR LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO

fyodor: because of dazai you realised something about yourself sigma...[describes me, dia, in disturbingly accurate detail]

i'm sorry but the gay agenda has warped me into viewing a man putting a gun to the head of a man on his knees not as a serious and threatening crime but as foreplay. this is what the gays are doing to today's youth. way cup america

brams life must suck. imagine life exactly the same except you can't frolick in the sun, smell roses, wear silver jewellery, finger gun yourself in the mirror or eat garlic bread. also the 'lacking a body and personal autonomy' thing but who needs those amirite

OH MY GOD THE GIRL **WAS** BRAM'S DAUGHTER!!!!! IT WAS HIS KID THE WHOLE TIME!!!!! YOU GUYS OH MY GOD/??????!!??!!???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i don't even feel bad for laughing when fyodor started having his mental breakdown like bro what is that face. is this what nikolai sees every night??? man no wonder he went insane

tfw they fisheye atsushi from afar while he's being stabbed in his vitals

i hope they have a stash of strepsils for atsushi's va in the recording studio

BRO WHY IS FYODOR MOANING TF

yknow that episode when teruko aged tachihara down to a child and he looked rounder and stuff? thats fyodor right now

no but actually imagine being pulled so hard that your leg and arm come off OUCHIES what is it with people and taking atsushi's body parts and like stroking them or whatever. if it were me, the only body part of atsushi's i'd be stroking is his di

fyodor you're a great character but i can't help but notice that you just stabbed my husband and then kicked him in the face. unfortunately you have no choice but for me to ruthlessly kill you dead

so much is happening rn i feel bad for the anime onlys who have to process all this shit within one episode whereas we got several chapters to soak it into our skull sponges

yeah, me too sigma. me too

LMAO DAZAI CALLED CHUUYA A BITCH????? THEY LITERALLY BICKER EVERY TIME THEY INTERACT WHY IS THIS PARTICULAR THING SO FUNNY TO ME

maybe its just cus like 'bitch' is a funny word especially. they can call each other 'ass' and 'bastard' and 'dick' all they want but nothing tops a good 'bitch!!'

hold on bones no. NO. you can't do that. dazai was shot once in the head by chuuya, then he smiles and laments before the scene ends and it's left ambiguous if he dies or not. YOU CAN'T JUST HAVE CHUUYA USING HIS CORPSE AS TARGET PRACTICE

asagiri: i wonder how i should design one order flowey from undertale: asagiri: amazing. brilliant. this will be perfect

well, fuck. im terrified for next week!!