#since i... never found the spoons to allow for me to get it done back then XP

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

{i once again interrupt my lurking for a touch of commentary--}

Because a certain someone is now grumpy, at having realized Shizuma's birthday is tomorrow, yet there might not be spare time to go hunting for a gift--

[hritika13-tamboli]

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 5....

Series :

Baggage || dad!Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader | best friends to lovers | co-parenting | idiots in love | slow burn—really slow burn || @angellesword

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Love to hate || Playboy businessman!jungkook x businesswoman!reader | Enemies to Lovers | Fuck Buddies!AU || @kpopfanfictrash

Summary : Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Six stages of Break-Up || ceo!jungkook x reader | Established relationship ||

Summary: Even the strongest sailing ship doesn’t last long in the sea.

Between takes 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07 || porn star!jk x f fluffer!reader | pornstar au || @jeonstudios

Summary: a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

From home || richkid!jk x baker!reader | fakedating!au | strangers to lovers | Enemies to Lovers || @yuzukult

Summary: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? 

Sugar fairy A03 || bunny hybrid Jungkook x ruby leopard hybrid oc! | strangers to lovers au | unrequited love au || @foxymoxynoona

Summary: Bunny Hybrid Jungkook is at that age... he needs a mate, and it's making life miserable for everyone in the family. The obvious solution is to bring home a girl. The obvious problem is that while it's love at first site for Pippa when he walks into the adoption tent, Jungkook is far more into the sexy cat to her right. Will there ever be peace in the family again?

One-shot :

Mature || stupid!jungkook x reader | f2l || @jiminrings

Summary: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back — the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed.

alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.

Careful what you wish for || idol!jungkook x reader | Established relationship || @kookiesbuckethat

Summary: After a tiring week of work, the last thing Jungkook wants to hear is you lecturing him about taking care of himself. But what if he could never hear your voice ever again?

Afterglow || boyfriend!jungkook x reader | Established relationship || @onlyswan

Summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

Our not so secret Secret || Athlete!fuckboy!Jungkook x smart ass!female!Reader | College AU | E2L | Athlete AU || @thvhoe

Sumaary :When someone learns that Jungkook has been secretly keeping a puppy in his room despite not being allowed to, he turns to ask the only other person who knows about his secret for help. And suddenly you two—who had long been bitter enemies—get very close.

Year 22 || childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader || @rkived

Summary: ‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘ 

T & S || Jungkook x reader | classmates!au | strangers to lovers || @jjkfire

Summary: Toddlers have always hated Jungkook and Jungkook have always hated toddlers  

+  “Jungkook… what the hell happened here? And why’s there spaghetti on the ceiling?”

Bunny adventures || hybrid!Jungkook x human!reader | hybrid!au || @kooktrash

Summary: | you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.

Fighting hearts || boxer!jungkook x rich!reader | boxing!au | strangers to lovers || @kooktrash

Summary: never living a life of luxury, Jungkook does what he has to do to make ends-meet. right now that means fighting in underground clubs, getting beat black and blue until he wins. he knows there’s a better life out there for him but he never let himself think about it. until you came along and suddenly a weight is being lifted off his shoulders letting you through his guarded walls. you’re everything he needed and you make him want to fight for more.

That night of graduation party || Jungkook x reader | strangers to lovers | right person wrong time?? | friends to lovers || @smartkookiee

Summary: After a stupid game of Truth or Drink you are convinced into telling everyone about the time you and Jungkook hooked up together the night of college graduation. A missed connection that you and Jungkook hadn't even talked about. Bringing up some unexpected feeling that you hadn't realized had been lingering between the two of you.

Jump then fall || Jungkook x reader |cruise AU | fake dating AU | best friends to lovers AU || (Three-shot) @writtenwhalien

Summary : bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

Explorer || alien!jungkook x reader | alien au || @1kook

Summary: Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. 

A touch of silk || pairing: werewolf!jungkook x f. human!reader | werewolf au || @war-of-hormoan

Summary: have been working with wolves long enough to recognize trouble the second it walks into the bar but there was something about Jungkook that made you forget everything Namjoon told you about the dangers of lone wolves.

Please don't eat me || werewolf!Jungkook x girlfriend!Reader | werewolf!au | college!au | established relationship!au || @spicybutterfly

Summary: What do you do when your longtime boyfriend turns into a werewolf right in front of you? Take off running of course!

Strictly platonic || bestfriend!jungkook x reader || friends to lovers | college au | fake dating au || @jeonqkooks

Summary: Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

True love || tattoo artist!jungkook x reader | f2l || @lovieku

Summary: when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

I Re Do || Ex husband Jungkook x ex-wife reader || @keen-li

synopsis: Young love is so sweet, but people never realize how foolish it can be (sometimes), especially for you and Jungkook. You and Jungkook were the typical high school sweethearts, and after school, you thought you were grown enough to get married. Your families disagreed, but you still went through with it. It was fine for the first year; you were still in the honeymoon phase. But soon, reality caught up, and you both had to go to university. You attended the same university, thinking it would make things easier. Many obstacles came your way, but you were still going strong, afraid of proving your family right. However, after two years of unhappiness, you both called it quits. Unfortunately, your relationship ended on a sour note, and the man you once loved turned into someone you never wanted to see again. So, what happens now, when you face him one more time after many years of being away from him.

[theartofwoompwoomps]

Why me

ES Soundwave x human!reader

Summary: Ravage brings him a human to console him after the other cassettes left. (I haven’t watched earthspark lol)

———————————————————————

This had been going for awhile now. 

Soundwave would ask him to wait a bit outside, then when allowed back in the whole room was turned upside down.

His boss never told him directly, but he didn’t need to for him to understand.

The cassettes leaving had a great impact in them. He could sense it. Especially whenever he’d lay next to him, Soundwave would caress him more affectionately. Almost as if he were afraid of losing him too.

He didn’t like seeing his boss like this. Nor was he used to it. At first, he was patient with him, understanding that Megatron’s betrayal and his cassettes leaving had wounded him deeply.

But,… it was starting to get overbearing. 

His attention was always on him, if he needed anything, did something, or was with others.

But, He didn’t want to hurt him. So talking about it was out of the question. His boss’s state of mind wouldn’t take it the right way. That’s why he made sure to keep these thoughts deep away from him. Only allowing worry to be detectable.

~~~~~

Soundwave had a mission recently without him, and it was the perfect opportunity to execute his plan. Shockwave helped him as well. 

He went down to the fleshy creatures land, where news wasn’t too popular, and where nature was abundant. Looking for someone who would need his bosses help.

Walking deeper through the woods, the fog kept blocking his eyesight, but he needed to get this human before soundwave got back.

Searching more frantically, rushing around, scaring many creatures in the process. He halted at what was in front of him.

A human.

They were on the ground. Not moving. No sound from them.

Creeping up to them he kneeled his head closer to listen, practically on top of their small chest, he finally heard it. A small pulse.

Taking you with the things you had in hand, he hurried back. Unaware of the dangers you had faced.

~~~~~~

Shockwave was displeased to see the state the human was in currently. Especially since they weren’t the most qualified for human care. But they did try their best at preparing a cube just for you.

It had some basic necessities, like a small bathroom, a mattress with a blanket, and a vending machine. Ravage hoped it’d be enough for now. 

He did feel a bit bad for taking you, but this was necessary. Glancing your way to see how you were, he saw that your state hadn’t changed. You were still unconscious. 

Feeling unease crawl through him doubts started arising. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken you. He didn’t even know if you could survive with them, but maybe that was the exact situation Soundwave needed. 

It was too late for doubt anyway.

Picking you up gently with his denta, he placed you on his boss’s berth, then draped his own body on you. Almost as if he were spooning you in his own way. 

Now he simply needed to wait.

~~~~~~

Soundwave had been on edge the whole time. He got the job done, but his mind was somewhere else. 

Being without Ravage threw his emotions in a turmoil. He needed to get back. He had to go back. 

Rushing back, not even glancing at anyone, he wad dead set on finding Ravage. 

Heading first to his quarters, he opens the door quite loudly upon arriving. Only feeling himself relax when his optics found his dear cassette.

Walking towards him, he saw them on his berth waking from recharge.

He waited for Soundwave to sit next to him before revealing you. Not saying anything before getting up. Making sure you were in plain sight.

His boss simply stared down.

It was silent. Only your small breathes and the vents in their bodies making noise. The whole thing felt extremely heavy on him. Not daring to make a move or noise. Then Soundwave broke the silence.

“Ravage. Query: what is a human doing here.”

It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but he knew he was in trouble unless he started explaining. “well,.. I found them..and brought them… for you to keep them.” 

Soundwave couldn’t believe it. Nor did he detect any lie. Why did his cassette even want him to have a human? 

And as if the roles were reversed and Ravage could read his mind he continued explaining. 

“They are a gift from me to you” lowering his head towards you then towards him. “So you have to take care of them.”

Soundwave was still processing the whole thing.

You were a gift? To take care of? His head filled with questions, logic and emotion battling inside. 

But, Ravage took his silence as an invitation to place your small body on him. Leave his boss to figure things out on his own.

———————————————————————

Masterlist 

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 5: Open Doors [A2]

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Continuation of: Prompt 1. December Moon [A1]

A/N: Time to continue the very first fic of Rickmas 2024 - this will not go as you think 👀 I surprised myself when I wrote this and just allowed it to flow. As I mentioned previously, I am letting things just come as they please this year and I write whatever pops into my head (with the previous parts in mind of course) but yeah, this took a turn 😂

I hope you'll love it and have a good time despite the teeny tiny smidge darker theme of this fic - we'll get to see our dear Colonel again but perhaps not in a manner we had thought, or hoped. Happy reading darling! ❤❤

Tags/TW’s: Pining, Longing For Him, Threat of Forced Marriage To Unwanted Man, Family Fight, Loss, Fear, Crying, Anxiety, Panic Attack, Running Away

Word Count: 2.5k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Open Doors

It had been four days since the ball, since I met him. Colonel Brandon. Thursday had never been a day I liked or disliked, yet this day seemed exceptionally dreary. The sky loomed above — dark with winter clouds — and no matter what I found to occupy myself with it inevitably led my mind back to the colonel.

The book of poems? His eyes. The soft sound of piano strings? Hi voice. The flickering candles? The golden details of his coat. Even the delicious tomato soap had managed to take the same shade as his coat when it was supposed to be a much brighter red.

“This is delicious,” I whispered to myself. Miss Abel topped off my wine glass at that exact moment. “Cook added beet juice, Miss.” Her words explained the shift in colour. “Tell cook I loved it,” I said and she nodded with a soft smile of her own. “Have you seen Father?” I continued. “No, Miss.” I sighed, sifting the spoon through the soup. “He has yet to speak with me, says he will not utter a word until I declare what man has asked for my hand.” ��Well, excuse me for saying so, Miss, but there are many eligible men whom—” “A hand I have accepted, I should add.” The only one I could even… Yet he evaporated in snow and has already left his estate on another worldly escaped according to the ever-flowing gossip.

I rose so fast that my chair screeched against the floor. “I am done with this,” I declared to the maid, the butler, and the kitchen maid who carried a large tray with freshly baked bread into the room. This had been my life since Mother’s death. A lonely, quiet, uneventful existence with my father in mourning — it was not the life I had lived and was not the life I wished to live.

I marched toward Father’s office, my dress raised by my hands and the many candles and lanterns along the walls cast several shadows of me in every direction. I was going to tell him to stop this mad search for a husband, to live with me and take solitude in my future being secure and my heart whole — not ravaged or broken by an unloving and dreary husband.

I raised my hand, ready to knock, when my father’s quiet crying reached me. The sobs, the whining moans of sorrow and worry palpable through the wooden door painted white, and my hand stayed. I could not disturb hi, or enter his office when he was in such a state. Any proud man would be appalled to be seen in such a state. No, I am his daughter and I have seen him cry before. Mother’s passing had been hard on us all.

I knocked softly. “Father?” I asked, grabbing the golden handle of the door as the room beyond went quiet. “I am entering now.” And I pushed it down before forcing the door open in a slow movement. “Calli, my wonder,” Father said, wiping at his eyes in a hurry. “Have you decided on—” I sighed deeply. “Marrying a man will do us no good, Father. I am capable on my own and a husband would only increase the risks of my future heritage to be—” Father roared. A savaged, frustrated, spine-stiffening shout that had my mouth locking up in an instant. Never had I seen him angered to such a degree. “There is no heritage!” he shouted, his hands banging down on his desk — laden with papers. “There is nothing that will protect you when I die!” he continued while looking at me with horrendously wide eyes, deepened by fear and wrath. At me, or life, I could not tell.

My heart stuttered. “W-what? But we are well off and our estate is—” “Being claimed as collateral when the new year comes,” he whispered, sinking into his chair as nothing but a heap of defeat. “There are no more lands, no more money, our lands were wiped clean…” “Wiped… Father, what are you talking about?” Fear made my mouth thicken. “Our lands—” “Claimed.” “Our yearly—” “Gone.” “But our estate—” Father banged his hands on the desk, stood, and leaned over it to glare at me with those fear-filled eyes I had never seen the likes of before. “The last thing we have, and the wagers for all shall dry up come mid-January.”

I gasped, my breath coming in heavy pants. “But…” “Calliope, my Calli, you must marry while the ruse remains intact. Before our poverty turns public knowledge.” Public— I didn’t even know?! “How long have you known?” My voice was meek, quiet, hurt. “You must marry, this month, before the year is out,” he said, avoiding my question. “Mr Hilliard has asked for your hand, and I will accept. I cannot give you any further—” “No!” I shouted, dread slipping down my spine. “I’ll never marry that man!” “You shall and you will!” Father roared, but his voice was held taut by anguish. “You cannot make me—” “If I had a choice, I would not. You know I would see you marry for love, as…” “You will doom me to a loveless life? For your lacking?” I asked. The words were cruel, the sentiment behind them equally so. My father’s eyes reflected the hurt they caused. “You will marry me off to die a slow, painful, cold death under a man the opposite of any I would ever have wished to—” “ENOUGH! Get out! Out!” he snarled as tears streamed down my cold cheeks and the world had turned upside down beneath my feet.

I bolted out of the room, taking off in a panicked rush down the long hallway, and swallowed my cries in an effort to suck air into my constricted lungs. We were poor, soon broke and cast out, and the life I had lived — had envisioned to have — was a shattered glass bowl beneath my pounding feet taking me to the unknown in a flurry of hurt.

Father had lied. My life turned into a fraud. I would have to fraud myself to a wealthy husband to be safe and protected. The deep sound of his voice reverberated in my mind. The depth of his shielded, soft eyes was an endless pool my heart wished to drown within. In the madness, the hurt, the chaos unravelling every spool of carefully laid thread weaving my life together he turned into my loss. My loss of everything. The harsh words I’d spewed, the way my heart had fluttered and my stomach tightened in his company, it had been the one chance my heart had had — and that chance was now irrevocably lost to the cold light of the December moon in our frozen gardens.

I will not see them bloom in spring… The thought was shattering. I did not care for wealth, fancy gardens, or giant estates with a servant for every need — I did care for safety, protection, and a life where the comfort of the arts was never lost. Those comforts, that safety, were only afforded to the affluent.

I ran down the sweeping stairs dressed in a golden carpet, the giant walls of the state seemed to grow around me — towering as I spun around at the base of the stairs. The ceiling seemed to head toward the sky, the walls and floor morphing to abandon me. The eyes of the statues, the paintings, they seemed to watch me with malevolent abandon.

I gulped and spun, my red dress flaring out like a parasol unable to catch me should I plummet out of good grace, and my pulse roared like a thousand waterfalls in my ears. I panted, losing my breath as the walls and ceiling stopped for the mere blink of an eye. I gasped, looking up in fright as my panic soared. They plummet toward me, attacking from all sides while stealing any chance of breath. I shrieked and ran toward the giant mahogany doors — throwing all my weight against the heavy wood.

“Let me out!” I screamed, pushing down the handle and slamming myself against the door. “P-please,” I wheezed. “Let me out!” I jerked on the handle and the door glided up as I felt the ceiling’s wish to crush me.

Throwing myself outside, I stumbled and tumbled down the stone stairs. My body thudded along as I rolled in a heap of trembling limbs. The snow dampened my landing and I scrambled up, scratching at the snow-covered ground to get myself up. I stumbled forward while rising, panting and heaving when looking back at the looming estate — it seemed to lean toward me, the gaping hole of the door a giant mouth wishing to swallow me up. I ran toward the stables, my mind not working but my panicked heart seemed to direct my body by pure remembrance.

The doors were open and I hurried inside, finding my horse in her box with her halter on. I unhooked and threw away the lead keeping her in place. My shaking fingers grabbed her mane and I heaved myself atop her bare back. She whinnied and stomped her hooves, my errant state leaking into her.

I whimpered a cry as fear hurled through me. I would lose her as well. Steering her around I urged her out of the box, the stable boy came running with a broom in his hand. “Miss Hay—” “MOVE!” I shouted in a panic as Marrygold set off out of the box, down the wide hall with boxes on each side, jacked up on my fear. The stable boy threw himself into a pile of hay with a curse as I surged forward and out through the open doors.

I held on to her mane, squeezing with my legs to remain seated as she galloped toward the giant gates, snow spraying around her hooves and my dress covering her behind like a drape of blood. I cried and leaned forward, my only thoughts being those of a painful future and broken promises of love.

⁛•⁛

My breaths stuttered, the biting wind attacked from all sides as Marrygold walked along through the forest buried in snow, and I slumped atop her, hanging like a lifeless doll with nothing but my beating heart and shivers to tell me otherwise.

Marrygold neighed loudly as my hands lost their grip on her main, hanging on each side of her wide shoulders. The warmth of her, and the thickness of my dress, kept me from completely freezing to death but my energy dwindled. Ice sat in my lashes and hair, the soft swirls and pinned curls since long loosened by my mad dash and pulling branches we’d galloped through.

“W-what do.. I do… Marrygold..?” I panted, resting the side of my face against her neck and mane. A whimpered breath slipped past my numb lips as I closed my eyes and let her carry me wherever she wished. Her steady steps and the crunch of snow took over the panicked racing of my blood and an eerie stillness descended over me. I allowed her steady breaths to calm me, to ease the pain and comfort the broken within me that nothing could ever heal.

Marrygold neighed and huffed, stopping for a moment. I took a slow peak — struggling to wake when the cold numbed me — of where we were, seeing only a sweeping grassland covered in snow that sparkled under the early night’s moon. Hours had passed since my raged escape from my home. I closed my eyes again as my horse began to walk once more.

We moved down a slope, the tilt of her body enough to tell me, and she neighed once more. I thought I heard something, but only the sound of crunching snow filled my ears along with her deep breaths. She neighed again. “It will all be good,” I whispered tiredly. “Somehow, I’ll keep you…”

The sound of hooves in a gallop reached my ears. Faint, in the distance, and off-beat with Marrygold’s walking. It became louder and I struggled to open my eyes, lifting my head sluggishly. There, in the distance with a large estate and tree line as a backdrop was a silhouette, someone atop a horse racing toward us. Father? But no, the estate’s shape behind was unknown to me and the silhouette of a man and horse was different.

I grabbed at the mane, endeavouring to sit myself up straight, but I was weak and cold to the bone. My hands lost their grip and I fell back down toward her neck, losing my balance and sliding toward one side slowly — my legs unable to excerpt any strength to hold. It happened in a few seconds yet my sluggish brain told me it took an eternity.

I slid off her back and fell toward the thick blanket of snow below. I saw her golden-coated legs before landing on my side. The snow blocked my view and I blinked to get it out of my eyes as I tried to heave myself up on my elbows, shaking my head so the blond tendrils whipped about — half stiffened by frozen tears in some places.

“MISS!” came the rumble of my dreams, my heart’s lost dream. I looked up but Marrygold’s legs blocked my view. “It can’t be,” I whispered as the legs of a midnight black horse came into view. “Miss!” the deep rumble of Colonel Brandon called again, fright in his baritone voice, as the sound of galloping hooves came to an abrupt halt and I nearly slumped on my trembling arms. But he’s away, I had time to think before the man rounded my horse and grabbed me.

Soft but frightened eyes found mine, wide shoulders and a high top-hat blocked the view of the world as strong hands rasped my arm and neck before lifting me up, out of the snow. “Miss—” his eyes widened in shock “—Miss Haymnick, what on earth—” “Colonel?” I whispered, feeling tears well anew as he held me up and placed a leg beneath my back. He nodded. “My lady, what are you doing out here?” he asked but before I had time to respond he continued in haste. “You are blue. By the lord, what have been done to you?” he asked but his tone asked for no answer.

He rose with me in his arms, my body shivered and shook but it was half from the cold and half due to him. My heart was in shambles, unable to make heads or tails of the world when he held me close despite him being the loss my heart had been torn over. In his strong arms, my body gave way to the cold and the tiredness. “Stay with me,” he urged from far away as my feet dangled. “Miss Haymnick, stay awake.”

I tried, I tried with all the strength I had — but, my mind wondered if this was merely the last hurrah before a cold death all alone with only the hallucination of him for comfort. Surely, he could not be here when he was supposed to be out in the world and far out of my reach. If that was true, I would welcome the false warmth and the trickster of a heart that pounded widely for him even in my losing battle of consciousness would not find me fighting against it.

To Be Continued...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

NEXT PART » Prompt 11: Out Of Reach [A3]

A/N: Well, that got hectic and deep and slightly dark 👀 I do looooove a dramtaic reunion though 🤭🙈 What are we thinking? Can we get these two together now perhaps? ❤

Also, happy Thursday darling! Any plans for the weekend? ❤ I'm about to head off to the library (job number two) and then I'll hopefully have some time this evening to finish tomorrow's fic so it's ready for you guys as early as possible 🥰 This weekend will probably be a mix of family time, writing, and gaming - throw some cleaning in for good measure 😅

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @dontwanttobeanamercanidiot @sunnylikesfrogs @dianilaws @snapesno1thighrider @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @cherihan @poetry-and-tea @evans23 @mamawolfsmith87 @snapesrn @severussimp @slyckman @liv2post @clawsthecactus @goldenglowwoman @sunset90 @meliabrandon @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @thatlittlefangirl @sanji-simp @ankhmutes @lessdepressy @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @daddythanatos @sanji-simp @goldenglowwoman

Want to be tagged? You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you!

[highlordofkrypton]

* alt title: no evil throw pillows found

CHAPTER 3 UPDATE

Bob, the strongest Avenger, gets kidnapped.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This update was inspired by @gusdeservedbetter's post about Bob getting kidnapped. I took some liberties for the chapter, and erred on the side of levity. I hope you enjoy it!

READ ON AO3 OR BELOW THE CUT

“I’m heading out for groceries!”

Dressed in his usual comfortable clothes, Bob pops on a light jean jacket over his sweater. There’s a new patch on his shoulder, ironed in when he wasn’t looking. Do they have to wear sponsors even when they’re not on mission? Bob stares at the bright orange logo and the deep blue ‘Tide’ on his arm. At the very least, it reminds him to add laundry detergent onto their list.

“Are you even allowed to go out?” John asks from the couch, mouth full of cereal.

“I’m not under house arrest, you know that, right?”

“It’s just, I’ve never seen you go out… like willingly.” John slurps a spoonful of milk. Bob’s pretty sure that’s not his cereal, and that’s definitely not going to end well. “Don’t we get our groceries delivered, anyway?”

“Yeah, but we’re out of milk and I feel like it.” Bob scratches his head, wondering if he needs a good reason. He’s never questioned if he’s allowed to go out, but now, he’s worrying. Should he submit a request to Bucky? Valentina? Ever since his failure as Sentry, Bob just assumed he didn’t matter anymore. No use. Just a presence in the background. Then again, all the stuff inside him is technically property of O.X.E.

“Kay, whatever.”

“Do you want me to get anything?”

“Nah.”

“Do you wanna co—”

John picks up the remote and turns the television up louder. 

Bob’s long learned not to take offence, so he pops on his headphones and hits play. Going out is a good reason to check out the team playlist and the chaos that is everyone’s eclectic music tastes. He’s spent enough time in his room, and he doesn’t want to associate this music with bad memories. Today’s going to be a good day, he’s sure of it. He’ll make it happen, if it’s the only thing he does today. The grocery store and back. Nothing hard at all. He’s done it a thousand times with Alexei, and a handful of times ever since moving into the tower.

He likes the store four blocks away. It’s a nice way, and it’s closer to a corner store than it is a grocery store. There’s produce, so he assumes it counts as the latter—he’s definitely thought about this too much. A small family runs it, and it always smells so good. Bob has bought take out from the tiny counter in the back, and the fried chicken is the only thing the New Avengers can unanimously agree on. Crunchy, juicy, succulent and flavourful, who doesn’t like fried chicken?

“Hey,” Bob beams at Mr. Brito behind the counter. He doesn’t take his headphones off, able to hear the man through them and over the music. “I’m good, you?” And he gives his signature two thumbs up.

The grocery list is short, but Bob takes his time, walking through every single aisle even if he doesn’t need to. He picks up new snacks, the kind you can only get at mom-and-pop shops like this and he trusts the Brito’s to order only the good stuff from their home country. Or others. He found some really cool chips here the other day from Chile (and he picks up another bag for Yelena, resident muncher). This place is one of his safe places. Small, welcoming and the kind of cluttered that he can get lost in. Mr. Brito apologizes for a box left in the third aisle, and Bob reassures him that it’s fine, he totally saw it on the way and he wasn’t tripping, he was just picking something up off the ground.

“That’s all for today, Bob?”

“Yeah, nobody needed anything. Just snacks and milk.” Bob lowers his headphones, polite as ever. 

He glances behind Mr. Brito where a scribbled picture of the New Avengers hangs on his wall. Alexei, Ava and John had scrambled for space. Yelena had signed her name along with a little guinea pig paw print at the end of it. Bucky has his signature—neat, crisp, practical for signing multiple memorabilia or bills. Bob’s was the last one. He didn’t mean to sign, but Mr. Brito had insisted. You are my favourite Avenger. Of course, I want your signature! You always visit me, the older man had said. Apparently, being around means just as much as saving the world.

“I put a little something in there, from Mrs. Brito,” Mr. Brito winks and hands Bob his bag.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. We want to.”

Bob feels his cheeks warm. Today is a great day.

For a moment, he just stands on the sidewalk, drinking in the sunlight with his eyes closed to the soundtrack of Ava’s favourite song. He can tell who added what to the playlist by now, just like the way he can identify who claims what in the fridge without the labels. Bob might miss out on the missions, but he doesn’t miss a thing when it comes to them.

It feels good to be alive, to be surrounded by people carrying on their day to day, to be— kidnapped?

A black bag is tossed over his head, and Bob damns the inconsistency of his powers. This time, he only catches every other word beneath the music. He’s being kidnapped, isn’t he?

“Guys, I don’t think you want to do this?”

***

“What do you mean you lost him?”

Heels click back and forth on Watchtower marble. If Valentina could stomp, she would. She’s a small woman, but she stands taller than many men the Avengers have faced on the battlefield. She is also a massive, evil, pain in the ass. 

“Well, lost implies that we were with him. So,” Alexei shrugs, wearing his latest promotional gear: Avengers headphones with little guinea pig ears. He claims it's all the rage with the youths and people like cute things in general. “Technically, we did not lose him.”

“What the fuck are you wearing? I’ve told you, we have people for marketing.” Valentina gestures at him, phone in hand. 

“It is for the ka-wa-ii. We are very popular in Japan. They have nice Bob keychain.”

She rolls her eyes and gets back to the topic in hand. “The only reason I let you,” she sucks her teeth, swallowing back choice words when she meets the unimpressed gazes of her Avengers. “ People keep him is because you’re clearly the only ones he listens to. I thought at least one of you would have the brain functions to keep the living weapon inside.”

“First off, Valentina, Bob does whatever he wants. You do not let us do anything.” Yelena leans against the wall, arms folded and watching Valentina, deadeyed. “Second, we’re all weapons here. You just misunderstand who holds the switch.”

Frustration radiates off their corporate figurehead, but none of the Avengers break formation. While they might agree that getting Bob back is important, they’ll never be on her side.

“Tell me you have a tracking device on him, at least.”

“He didn’t take it with him.” Bucky taps on his ‘ A ’ pin, a built-in tracker for everyone during their missions. It’s easier to keep track of them this way, but Bucky makes no effort in controlling their personal lives.

“Trackers are best used inside assets! Especially ones that can swallow up New York!” Valentina hisses at them, throwing her hands up in the air. “You all have the next hour to find him or I’m having my people conduct a search and you won’t like it.” She turns on her heel towards the elevator. They watch her tap her foot, purse her lips and vanish behind the closing doors.

The moment she’s gone, they all exhale.

“We have to find Bob now,” Bucky says calmly, scrubbing his face.

“Why Bob of all people? They should have just taken John.” Ava waves at the disgraced hero.

“Hey!”

“We have two other people who can do what you do. I also like you less than the others. Sorry,” she says, not sounding sorry at all.

“Whatever. We need to find him. I should have gone with him.” After all, Bob did ask John. Everyone asks something of John, and for some fucking reason, John can’t get it through his thick helmeted skull to just do it. Just get up and walk with Bob. It’s not like he’s never spent time alone with Bob. Fuck, he doesn’t even dislike Bob. Bob is fine. John glances away, chewing on his lip guiltily. “They probably thought Bob was our errand boy or something. It’s not like anyone knows who he really is.”

“It is pretty funny, though,” Yelena snorts. “Of all the people they could take. Bob.”

“Someone is going to have a very bad day,” Alexei nods.

“Why aren’t you guys freaking out? You realize we could lose New York again in the next couple of minutes. It was horrible the first time. Can we not do it again?” John throws his hands up in the air, his shield on one arm moving with it.

“What? We brought him back once, we can bring him back again. We can time it. Do it faster every time.” Ava has walked through hell once, and she has no doubt about doing it again and again, and again —however many times are needed. It’s an unspoken agreement between all of them, even John. Bob may carry nightmares incarnate inside him, but that’s their nightmare.

“Focus up, guys. You guys,” Bucky points at Ava and John. “Go to Brito’s and see if you can pick up a trail. Yelena, see what you can pick up on surveillance feeds. Alexei, you’re with me. We’ll talk to people who might know some people.”

“Team cheer, yeah?” Alexei grins, putting his hand in the middle of them all. John joins in, but the rest of them roll their eyes and head on their way.

***

“You sure this guy’s got information on the Avengers ? He just looks like some normal ass dude.”

“Yeah, dude, haven’t you been reading the papers? That's Bob.”

“Sounds like a normal ass name for a normal ass dude. What does he do?”

“I dunno. He doesn’t really… I’ve actually never seen him out with them.”

“See. He’s just some guy. Yo, Bob.”

The car ride was a relatively pleasant one. They’d threatened him with a gun, and no matter how many times he told them this was a bad idea, they seemed pretty set on kidnapping him. He’d sat there listening and speaking when spoken to. The bag remains on his head, and aside from getting really humid from his breathing, it’s not entirely unpleasant. He knows he should be worried, but he’s not. These guys don’t feel as dangerous as Valentina’s private security, and he’s sure it’s just a mix up.

“Yeah?”

“Are you on the Avengers?”

“Not really.”

“Why are you on the merch, then?”

“Oh, are you looking for freebies? ‘Cause I can get you some. Signed and all. We’ve got a whole room full, so if you wanna let me go. That would be cool.” 

“Told you,” one of the captors says to the other. He snaps his fingers. “Oh, you know what this is? It’s like that thing. You know? Where they say we should start putting normal people in the Olympics for comparison?”

“The New Avengers are normal people, except Ghost. Super-soldiers shouldn’t count. That’s like roids for roids.”

“Right, as if anyone could take the serum and do…” The conversation fades into unimportance. Background noise to Bob’s quiet pondering. “Failed Cap…”

For what it’s worth, Bob doesn’t think that his captors are any threat at all. It seems like a small-time job, if he can make that assessment with all his inexperience, and he’s confident that they can get out of this with little to no harm done to anyone. As long as he keeps his cool, and ignores the errant bouncing of his foot which means his anxiety is blooming (against his will). His kidnapping could be a bait for the others. Someone bigger and badder could be hiding around the corner.

“What is this anyway? The Avengers don’t get their groceries delivered? In 2025?” They rifle through his bag, and he recognizes the paper crumble of Mrs. Brito’s take-home gift. “Ugh, smells like indigestion. Did I tell you I tried this new portuguese place and it was terrible ?”

“Just throw it out. It’s not like he’ll need it. The milk’s gonna go bad anyway.”

Bob throws his head forward and the bag on his head slips off. He looks between the strangers, not really paying attention to their faces. “Please don’t throw that out. It was a gift!” 

His hands are still tied behind his back, and the discomfort in his back is from the pillar he’s been tied to. Bob doesn’t mind being captured, really. The last couple of times are locked behind hazy memories, and so far, this has been pleasant—really! If they can just grant him this one request.

“I also just wanna re-emphasize that you guys don’t wanna do this. If I don’t come home by, wait, what time is it?” He shakes his head. “I’m supposed to be back by dinner.” Everyone will notice he’s gone. The others never let him skip a meal, whether it’s a nibble of popcorn, a spoonful of canned soup or whatever meal they’re willing to share. (All of it, they always save portions for Bob.) “I’m not even  gonna tell anyone this happened!”

The leader—Bob assumes—approaches him and squats to get to Bob’s eye level. The other one behind him is still rifling through his groceries and tossing them on the table carelessly. It might seem meaningless to them, but they are important to Bob. 

“Look here, you fuck. You should have a hole blown through your head just for taking that bag off your head. You’ve seen our faces. The chances of you getting out alive have just dropped by a lot.” He waves the gun in Bob’s face. Very scary. Very intimidating.

Bob’s focus is on making sure his stuff makes it out of here alright. “Can you tell him to stop?” He jerks his chin towards the second kidnapper.

“You think this is a joke? I’m talking to you.” The gun is raised, and his captor backhands Bob with it. 

Clonk. The weapon bends.

“What the fuck ?”

Pop. The chips meant for Yelena are opened.

Kidnapper #2 gets up, dropping the bag and smacking the rest of his groceries as he grabs his own weapon. It all happens in slow motion. Horror fills Bob, watching the food plummet off the makeshift metal table down, down, towards the ground. What once was a great day is slowly taking a miserable turn, and Bob can only just watch? No, no, no.

His body moves of its own accord. He shrugs off his bindings, snapping and tearing with little effort. Bob extends his hand, and his eyes glow gold. “No!”

Groceries float in the air. Bob sighs with relief.

“Stop what you’re doing!” The second kidnapper’s hands shake. They’re clearly out of their depth. His partner scrambles to text (?) whoever they’re working with and finds more (?) guns. Bob has no idea where they’re pulling out weaponry from, and it kind of feels like a magic trick.

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re doing some freaky thing!”

“I’m not!” Not purposely, at least.

The lights shut off mid argument. Darkness should scare Bob, but this is the good kind of darkness. The kind that means his friends are here (and he’s not alone). Bob sighs, focused only on keeping his purchases from hitting the ground and getting ruined. Sounds of fists against flesh have Bob flinching and trying to tip-toe out of the way. Screams, grunts of pain and the crack of bones are still… a lot for him. 

Just… think about pulling the stuff towards you. Bob squats on the ground, hugging his knees with one hand and calling his grocery bag to him with his abilities. C’mon, you can do it. He feels the fabric and clutches it. He did it! He did it.

A body hits the ground beside him and he flinches again.

“Bob?!” Yelena’s voice echoes through the warehouse from afar. The lights come on soon after.

His eyes adjust to the change and land on red boots. Bob trails his gaze upwards, over the not-Red-Guardian-red outfit. No, the smaller man is dressed in blood red. Even his eyes are coloured that way, and it’s terrifying. The two horns on his head have Bob twisting his face in horror.

“Oh, god, did I die? Of course, I’d be in hell.”

The rooms—The rooms of shame, hate and pain are back. His new taskmaster is the Devil himself, come to reap his soul for all the harm he caused in his life. Bob takes hurt and amplifies it, that’s all he’s ever been good for. That’s all he’ll ever be—

“Get away from him!”

John’s shield soars across the vast space, and the Red Devil flips over it easily. The Avengers attack him, and he holds his own as well as he can. For a circle of Hell, this feels a little too close to reality.

“Wait!” Bob shouts. He holds his hands out, grocery bag swinging on his arm. “He saved me! I think!”

“Stand down!” Bucky lowers his gun, and he repeats the order to John who has his hand on his firearm. “That’s the devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“My vote’s no,” John says suddenly. The others turn to look at him questioningly. “What? We’ve already got people who can do flips and a guy in red.”

“I wouldn’t join your team even if you asked me to,” Daredevil deadpans. “You should probably keep an eye on your… your Bob.”

“First off, you can reject us when we’ve already rejected you.”

“Thanks for coming guys,” Bob waves at them. “I have snacks?”

Yeah, today was a great day, he decides, but the thought sounds more like a plea riddled in darkness.

[sereves]

Tsubaki and Lawless Sibling Headcanons

After reading that meme about what woulda happened if Lawless and Tsubaki were on good terms I had to make these headcanons

This. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought about this-  Allow me to do a small rant/analysis-

Lawless is canonically referred to as having a family root according to Gear in this panel

Yall no one can change my mind Lawless got fat daddy issues that run deeper than a black hole

As shown in these panels he has a deep respect and gratitude to Saint germaine for reviving him, and even goes as far as to lecture Kuro for being "rude"

I also find it interesting how of all the siblings Lawless is pretty much the only one that was happy to be revived, aside from Ildio who was more or so neutral on his new life. Lawless pretty much took his new life and appreciated his second chance-

Personally in my opinion, I believed because he was a lower-ranking prince who was killed in a conspiracy he may have never gotten a chance to live life? He looks like he died pretty young and since he was a lower ranking prince, he may have lived with a silver spoon in his mouth, but likely was never able to go out to much and was probably very lonely. He probably only had Guil by his side which is why I love and adore their father/brother dynamic 😭

SPEAKING OF BROTHER DYNAMICS- KURO I GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU-

dAWG- WHYD KURO DO HIM SO DIRTY 😭Bro straight up just lost Ophelia, is about to lose his "second father", then gets dumped by his own god damn brother- Like Kuro pretty much told him "we shouldn't have been born". Like bruh lawless got done so dirty in a span of like a week, like even after this he goes back home  Ophelia's kingdom was destroyed 💀

Also he had to walk to the meeting stop for about 10 days+ and then walked back on his hedgehog stubby legs like is this man okay, IMAGINE WALKING ALL THE WAY ON FOOT AND JUST BEING DUMPED LIKE THAT- no wonder bro held such a fatass grudge against Kuro. Centuries later they meet again and  Kuro really had the audacity to be like, "why u mad at me" as if he didnt kill Saint and told Lawless they shouldn't really exist 😭

Anyways, moving onto the actual Tsubaki and Lawless siblings headcanons-

Lawless desperately wanted a family and tried seeking that through his new found Servamp siblings, but sadly none of them really wanted it aside from Ildio and Freya. Love the headcanon that Freya canonically thinks of Lawless as her "dear brother"🥺

Tsubaki later down the road looks like he craved that too? In fact it looks like he went to every sibling and tried asking them who he was and none of them knew. But what Im curious is about is this

Lawless already knew about Tsubaki? When we got Lily's POV, he stated that he was visited by Tsubaki, and Tsubaki started laughing because none of his siblings knew about him. Now Im curious, because if Lawless had met Tsubaki in the past, what was it like? Did he just know of Tsubaki from C3? Given the fact that Lawless has spied on them sometimes when he was bored, is that how he found it? But I have a weak heart, so lets make some headcanons on had they met earlier and actually became close.

In a perfect world, Id had pictured Lawless helped Tsubaki escape from C3 and they both became close since both craved familial love. Its been revealed that Tsubaki is trying to protect his little sister so for sure, bros in the same boat as Lawless trying to make found family

There was also an old book called, "The Hedgehog and the Fox" where a quote is stated, "The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing." Reference: https://www.jimcarrollsblog.com/blog/2018/5/23/are-you-a-hedgehog-or-a-fox#:~:text='The%20fox%20knows%20many%20things,various%20wiles%20of%20the%20fox.

I like to think this very similar to Lawless and Tsubaki. Tsubaki, is likely one of the strongest siblings and can clap cheeks instantly. He has many skills and is canonically the only one that can "kill" his siblings, but Lawless is older, so I believe the "the hedgehog knows one big thing" is really cute, but it feeds into the dynamic that, yes although Tsubaki is superior to Lawless in terms of power, he has a lot more to learn.

Considering Tsubaki was locked up in C3 for a while I would like to think Lawless took him out and immediately tried getting him situated in the modern era. Thats my perspective on "hedgehog knows one big thing" like imagine being locked up and experimented for ages, and finally being introduced the modern day, like when was the last time Tsubaki saw the sun 💀

I also headcanon Lawless is probably pretty well off considering hes greed and judging from the fact hes constantly wearing rings and bracelets like I doubt those are fake, and he literally shops at Shibuya. Lawless is canonically a bougie bitch 💀

Please give me cute shopping montage of Lawless dripping out Tsubaki in modern Japanese styled clothing LIKE I WANNA SEE HIM WEARING THIS

Anyways thats all I have for now, but TLDR: I love servamp sibling interactions, strike please stop depriving us

[breelandwalker]

not sure if anyone else has asked this recently but my internet is too slow to do a deep dive in the archives rn so - do you have any advice for avoiding/preventing/dealing with a lot of 'backsnap' from spells? i.e. the wave of exhaustion/general physical and emotional crumminess after doing some heavy work. it's entirely possible that this specific instance i'm experiencing could be allergies or an oncoming cold, but since it hit me right after i spent an evening doing the first serious amount of spell-casting i've expended effort on in months, i'm inclined to connect it at least a little bit. now i'm wondering how best to bounce back or prevent it from hitting so hard in the future (aside from obvious health-boosting things like rest, water, vitamin c, etc). is it just a matter of exercise makes the muscle stronger or should i really not be neglecting to ward up first in my impatience to get to the fun part?

Good question!

This is something I hear about frequently enough that I feel comfortable calling it a common occurrence. Doing heavy, involved, or prolonged spellwork is taxing in the same way that any other task requiring a lot of focus or mental or emotional energy might be. I don't know that there's a way of wholesale avoiding it, per se, but you can mitigate it in a few ways with a little bit of preparation. You've got the right idea here, so allow me to offer just a few additional tips.

Set up your workspace ahead of time and make sure you have all your materials ready to go and within easy reach. Try to eliminate distractions and as many potentials for interruption as you can. The less frustration, distractions, or derailment you have during a casting, the easier it is and the less exhausted you'll be afterward.

Make sure you're rested, hydrated, and not running on empty or heading for a caffeine crash or the tail end of a medication cycle if you take dailies. Take a few minutes to calm yourself and focus on the task at hand before you begin. If you have any preferred grounding and centering techniques, definitely employ those. I've found that just taking a moment to bring myself into the present and sort of zoom in on what I'm doing has helped more than casting extra wards just for the sake of one spell.

If you're feeling ill or overtired or like you're on your last spoon, maybe do your spell another day. I know magical timing is a thing some witches rely upon, but there's almost always a way to spin timing to your benefit, and spellcasting should NEVER take precedence over your health.

Keep in mind, all of this is to MITIGATE the post-casting crash, not prevent it. It's still a good idea to rest afterward, maybe have a snack and hydrate again. Just make sure you clean up anything that needs cleaning, extinguish all fire hazards, and put up any materials that you don't want kids or pets getting into or that might be a trip hazard. (You do NOT want to skip this step and end up cracking a toe on your cauldron the next morning, TRUST ME.)

It does get easier as you go on. There's a reason we call witchcraft a practice - it takes PRACTICE. Doing small-to-medium spells and periodic exercises may help things go more smoothly, since you don't have to think about it as much once you've got the hang of things. (I try to do a little something every day and I have easy charms built into my schedule for this purpose.) Large, involved castings will still wear you out, not much to be done about that.

I have some other tips for battling inspirational slumps and blockages and helpful hints for your spellwork here:

My Intuitive Spark Feels Low - How Do I Get It Back?

I’m In A Slump - How Do I Get Out Of It?

I’ve Reached A Stopping Point - What Do I Do Next?

How Do I Make A Magic Circle For Spellcasting?

What Happens If I Get Interrupted While Casting A Spell?

Do I Need To Maintain Positive Vibes For My Spells To Work?

Hope this helps! 😊

[poetry-i-live-for]

Lyrics of Starseed by Catie Trainor

I don′t know how to be anything other than honest

I have lived in Nashville four years now come this summer

Which means I have not spoken to my brother in almost six

Time sure does fly while rearranging kitchen drawers to make new spoons fit

I Venmo'd my dealer last week for some weed to help finish this poem

How many licks to the center of a hypocrite

All the same, I have been dropping masterpiece after masterpiece

I put out three over the course of one year

When California asks, I tell her I′ve been stitching together poems so big

They could be thrown over entire countries to keep them warm

And I could give a fuck about a trend

I want to be the word so universally healing

That generation after generation will keep running back to them

Because ever since I was a child

I had always felt like there was somewhere I needed to be

So when I'm feeling burnt out in an industry that is anything but gentle

I think back to my youth

Libraries as lunchrooms

I throw my soul to her fountain and wash, rinse, repeat

And I've been told some of you are wondering, and yes

I just keep on getting better at resuscitating memories with words that run like water

twenty years inside the books, now I shall never be alone again

By noon I′m ruling Rome, I built my own up from the ashes

They mistake me for the apple without knowing I′m the seed

As in which any earth I'm planted, fruit is harvested around me

And it′s funny the way they will treat you once they realize your mind is worth money

Sand dollars are found out past the break of every wave, but that is also where the sharks are

Cracking under pressure, too much liquor, forgetting all my words at slam

I promise you this, I will never again allow that shit to happen

But after all, I'm only human, only flesh and blood imperfection

And you′re bound to hit some turbulence when a bad bitch is about to shatter through a glass ceiling

Keep your eyes on the credits of the rock charts, your girls' name is about to be all over them

That′s why I never tell them what I'm doing till it's done

And the only name you′ll ever catch me dropping is my own

They say imitation is flattery, but I say it′s thievery

And sympathy is bitter depending on which pair of fangs you taste it from

If you sip on my stars, I will swallow the sun

You are limited only to what I have already done

Some see me as competition, but I see them as all my children

Because as writers, we must hold our immortality with the greatest reverence

The holy crack in the spines of our books, forever embedded in their memory

Just like Stephen said, approaching every pen in any way but lightly

So your cadence may be mildly entertaining, but what are you actually saying

That's the thing about the quiet of a page. you can′t hide from it

Strip away the smoke and mirrors of performance, let us see the quality of your sentences

So mark my words, my children and my children's children

Will never again know the weight of this brokenness

It ends with me here, so let us be this

A love letter etched into an old notebook

Tucked away on a bookcase

A collection of soul rearranged, inked into words

In hope that someone may read them

Find healing in the shape on a page

Memories found in palms I will never trace

Once I finally lay at the feet of rest

We will soon be an echo, so

Let this page be proof that I have lived

And I have loved, so good

[chipped-chimera]

WIP WEDNESDAY - 12/07/23

AND IT'S ACTUALLY ON A WEDNESDAY! Thanks @theviridianbunny for the tag <3 I regret to inform you ... it's more hair again @.@ (this one is actually different, I swear)

More under the cut, as usual~

Soooo if you've been following me you probably know I've done a few things since my last WIP Wednesday, namely more tattoo stuff, and more recently ... more hair stuff.

After a LOT of agonising over it I finally consider the neck 'done' ... or done enough (vaguely ... thinking about doing something more in the transition between the tattoo and the jaw but I probably should stop honestly or I'll never stop). This means I probably have enough done to get away with taking screenshots while I work on the rest of it. Been pondering drawing up an actual plan for the rest beyond what I've been doing so far - mostly winging it and smashing things together. Might get stuff done faster, who knows.

Anyway I am back on my hair shit, yet again that's going just about ... as well as you'd expect ...

Okay okay, I'll be honest, this has been fixed but I gotta say after spending a whole 12 hrs staring at lines of code, changing entries and having to redo them several times because I'd fucked up some file name or changed my mind or found out 'no that is not where you should be putting that folder you absolute dingus' and this was the best I could do was kind of hilarious. 😂

The important part was I'd gotten it IN, which was a process and a half, considering THIS time I'm using a custom made 2048px hair texture (alpha is 4k) and a higher poly mesh - which means yeah, this is the same hair rebuilt from scratch.

After some additional fiddling ...

... and a very unamused Ven (I'm sorry hun) ...

I got it in. All of it. No missing textures, no hair cards in the hair cap slot. The physics look janky but it's somewhat intentional - this is a minimal effort rigging job based on the alt rig, the priority was to get this hair texture IN so I could see how it looked in game and how everything sat before I dug myself further into a sunk cost fallacy over this second version of the hair.

And I'm actually pretty happy with it? There is some curl distortion yeah but it's not as bad as it was last time - and considering I'd rigged that one PROPERLY is saying something. Higher poly + textures are making a big difference here. It's pretty obvious in the comparison -

Also yes I am aware this one is WAY too shiny, but that one is a considerably easy fix now I know how Vertex Paint actually affects this value. I was a bit too generous on the highlight gradient so I've already repainted what I have so far, using side-by-side references with existing game meshes to try and get it 'equal' but it's likely gonna be a lot of back and forth calibrating with that one.

Excessive shiny-ness aside I'm actually REALLY happy with how the side curl is sitting nice and neat in her jacket collar this time! Also man ... doesn't that look silky ... (ok maybe some shine is good lmao)

I guess that's kind of it on the mod front. I've got other projects in a very initial stage (it's fanfic. Ofc it's fanfic) but work on both the tattoo bodysuit + hair is eating up a lot of my daily spoon allowance so that one will happen when it happens I guess (and probably when at minimum, this goddamn hair is done).

Oh and this hair is using UUH4V. I GOT IT TO WORK. Which means I'll be able to use multiple rigs which will hopefully prevent these carefully crafted curls from getting minced beyond recognition, fingers crossed.

Anyways until next time!

(Uh, I tag anyone who read all of this. Yes you. sorry I don't know many people yet and I'm shyyy)

p.s. yes hair tutorial. soon. In the case you are similarly frustrated and desperate as I was and working on hair please note I AM VERY OPEN TO TELLING YOU ALL THE INFO just ask me. Cause tutorial might take time unfortunately. But it's in the works.

[autistic-sidestep]

🧿 and 💋 for Sura, please!

🧿Do they have a superstition or belief? Such as "black cats bring bad luck", belief in ghosts, tarot, crystals, meditation, etc.

yep! there's a reason why eyes are a central motif to argos' design (and in general just being rife with symbolism. im linking the posts i wrote up a while back bc i don't really have the spoons to add anything new). they've picked up a lot of things from other people, baby sura was a bit like a sponge absorbing other peoples' belief systems from people they liked (so some of stuff of ortega's or elena's from the time spent with them).

like they used to wear a nazar bracelet/pendant (which ricardo kept) and prayed. both were things they picked up from the various people sura met during their first escape, since they'd observed cultural things were something you could find common interests and community. ("these people look like me, therefore, maybe i should do that to fit in?").

sura was still willing to learn even if it never fully understood the customs, but it was really the communal aspect to it that they found so appealing, the connection and unified purpose that they didn't really get to experience at the farm (seeing, but never being able to participate). similar reasons for the draw to vigilantism and becoming sidestep, i think. so sura picked up a bunch of different customs, (including avoiding pork, up until the nanosurge at which point they went basically pescetarian if not vegetarian, (raw) meat made sura nauseous after that).

i think post hb they're a bit less superstitious now. but there's still some traditions sura will still keep up, like prayer (and using an accompanying mat/cushion), or using tealights and incense. it doesn't really believes in higher beings anymore (or at least not in benevolent ones. what was that quote in nitw? "a universe that doesn't care, but people that do." feels kinda fitting. entropy and forces that aren't really personified, that just are for fate motive? although i might swap it to anger/justice and have it as a secondary motive.), but just for the routine and comfort of it (autism). also i think it factors well into sura's outsider scar and attempting to heal it.

not to mention sura's had some habits in the past like. letting the microwave timer go off is not only bad, the whole day's ruined now. when they used to hang out in the rangers hq breakroom sura would just. stop the timer a second before it was done. even if it wasn't their food. no beeping allowed. >:( (i'd hesitate to call this a compulsion but it certainly was one of sura's eccentricities.)

(does this make sense lol. i am so exhausted)

💋Do they kiss first? And do they bite their lips if they're mischievous or aroused? And do they bite their partner's lips when they try and pull away?

kissing first depends on the context, but Probably yes if they know the other party is interested. sura's not really one to presume on that front, since their orientation stuff makes figuring that out little wonky. i think sura's puppet/ace/juno is allo so that makes things extra confusing flipping from her body to itself and the fact it's less confident dealing with "romantic" stuff as itself. sura can fake it well enough as juno since she's meant to be attractive and deal with the stuff that comes with (dating, flirting, etc.)

sura? less so. even with argos, there's a degree of separation between that persona and its civilian self. but yes to lip biting, probably a big tell lol. biting partners lips…. i could see it, yeah, just to tease as long as they can tell there's nothing wrong? all comes down to how comfortable they are with the other party, ig

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

The Trial by Franz Kafka

Chapter Four

Miss Bürstner's Friend

For some time after this, K. found it impossible to exchange even just a few words with Miss Bürstner. He tried to reach her in many and various ways but she always found a way to avoid it. He would come straight home from the office, remain in her room without the light on, and sit on the sofa with nothing more to distract him than keeping watch on the empty hallway. If the maid went by and closed the door of the apparently empty room he would get up after a while and open it again. He got up an hour earlier than usual in the morning so that he might perhaps find Miss Bürstner alone as she went to the office. But none of these efforts brought any success. Then he wrote her a letter, both to the office and the flat, attempting once more to justify his behaviour, offered to make whatever amends he could, promised never to cross whatever boundary she might set him and begged merely to have the chance to speak to her some time, especially as he was unable to do anything with Mrs. Grubach either until he had spoken with Miss Bürstner, he finally informed her that the following Sunday he would stay in his room all day waiting for a sign from her that there was some hope of his request being fulfilled, or at least that she would explain to him why she could not fulfil it even though he had promised to observe whatever stipulations she might make. The letters were not returned, but there was no answer either. However, on the following Sunday there was a sign that seemed clear enough. It was still early when K. noticed, through the keyhole, that there was an unusual level of activity in the hallway which soon abated. A French teacher, although she was German and called Montag, a pale and febrile girl with a slight limp who had previously occupied a room of her own, was moving into Miss Bürstner's room. She could be seen shuffling through the hallway for several hours, there was always another piece of clothing or a blanket or a book that she had forgotten and had to be fetched specially and brought into the new home.

When Mrs. Grubach brought K. his breakfast—ever since the time when she had made K. so cross she didn't trust the maid to do the slightest job—he had no choice but to speak to her, for the first time in five days. "Why is there so much noise in the hallway today?" he asked as she poured his coffee out, "Can't something be done about it? Does this clearing out have to be done on a Sunday?" K. did not look up at Mrs. Grubach, but he saw nonetheless that she seemed to feel some relief as she breathed in. Even sharp questions like this from Mr. K. she perceived as forgiveness, or as the beginning of forgiveness. "We're not clearing anything out, Mr. K.," she said, "it's just that Miss Montag is moving in with Miss Bürstner and is moving her things across." She said nothing more, but just waited to see how K. would take it and whether he would allow her to carry on speaking. But K. kept her in uncertainty, took the spoon and pensively stirred his coffee while he remained silent. Then he looked up at her and said, "What about the suspicions you had earlier about Miss Bürstner, have you given them up?" "Mr. K.," called Mrs. Grubach, who had been waiting for this very question, as she put her hands together and held them out towards him. "I just made a chance remark and you took it so badly. I didn't have the slightest intention of offending anyone, not you or anyone else. You've known me for long enough, Mr. K., I'm sure you're convinced of that. You don't know how I've been suffering for the past few days! That I should tell lies about my tenants! And you, Mr. K., you believed it! And said I should give you notice! Give you notice!" At this last outcry, Mrs. Grubach was already choking back her tears, she raised her apron to her face and blubbered out loud.

"Oh, don't cry Mrs. Grubach," said K., looking out the window, he was thinking only of Miss Bürstner and how she was accepting an unknown girl into her room. "Now don't cry," he said again as he turned his look back into the room where Mrs. Grubach was still crying. "I meant no harm either when I said that. It was simply a misunderstanding between us. That can happen even between old friends sometimes." Mrs. Grubach pulled her apron down to below her eyes to see whether K. really was attempting a reconciliation. "Well, yes, that's how it is," said K., and as Mrs. Grubach's behaviour indicated that the captain had said nothing he dared to add, "Do you really think, then, that I'd want to make an enemy of you for the sake of a girl we hardly know?" "Yes, you're quite right, Mr. K.," said Mrs. Grubach, and then, to her misfortune, as soon as she felt just a little freer to speak, she added something rather inept. "I kept asking myself why it was that Mr. K. took such an interest in Miss Bürstner. Why does he quarrel with me over her when he knows that any cross word from him and I can't sleep that night? And I didn't say anything about Miss Bürstner that I hadn't seen with my own eyes." K. said nothing in reply, he should have chased her from the room as soon as she had opened her mouth, and he didn't want to do that. He contented himself with merely drinking his coffee and letting Mrs. Grubach feel that she was superfluous. Outside, the dragging steps of Miss Montag could still be heard as she went from one side of the hallway to the other. "Do you hear that?" asked K. pointing his hand at the door. "Yes," said Mrs. Grubach with a sigh, "I wanted to give her some help and I wanted the maid to help her too but she's stubborn, she wants to move everything in herself. I wonder at Miss Bürstner. I often feel it's a burden for me to have Miss Montag as a tenant but Miss Bürstner accepts her into her room with herself." "There's nothing there for you to worry about," said K., crushing the remains of a sugar lump in his cup. "Does she cause you any trouble?" "No," said Mrs. Grubach, "in itself it's very good to have her there, it makes another room free for me and I can let my nephew, the captain, occupy it. I began to worry he might be disturbing you when I had to let him live in the living room next to you over the last few days. He's not very considerate." "What an idea!" said K. standing up, "there's no question of that. You seem to think that because I can't stand this to-ing and fro-ing of Miss Montag that I'm over-sensitive—and there she goes back again." Mrs. Grubach appeared quite powerless. "Should I tell her to leave moving the rest of her things over till later, then, Mr. K.? If that's what you want I'll do it immediately." "But she has to move in with Miss Bürstner!" said K. "Yes," said Mrs. Grubach, without quite understanding what K. meant. "So she has to take her things over there." Mrs. Grubach just nodded. K. was irritated all the more by this dumb helplessness which, seen from the outside, could have seemed like a kind of defiance on her part. He began to walk up and down the room between the window and the door, thus depriving Mrs. Grubach of the chance to leave, which she otherwise probably would have done.

Just as K. once more reached the door, someone knocked at it. It was the maid, to say that Miss Montag would like to have a few words with Mr. K., and therefore requested that he come to the dining room where she was waiting for him. K. heard the maid out thoughtfully, and then looked back at the shocked Mrs. Grubach in a way that was almost contemptuous. His look seemed to be saying that K. had been expecting this invitation for Miss Montag for a long time, and that it was confirmation of the suffering he had been made to endure that Sunday morning from Mrs. Grubach's tenants. He sent the maid back with the reply that he was on his way, then he went to the wardrobe to change his coat, and in answer to Mrs. Grubach's gentle whining about the nuisance Miss Montag was causing merely asked her to clear away the breakfast things. "But you've hardly touched it," said Mrs. Grubach. "Oh just take it away!" shouted K. It seemed to him that Miss Montag was mixed up in everything and made it repulsive to him.

As he went through the hallway he looked at the closed door of Miss Bürstner's room. But it wasn't there that he was invited, but the dining room, to which he yanked the door open without knocking.

The room was long but narrow with one window. There was only enough space available to put two cupboards at an angle in the corner by the door, and the rest of the room was entirely taken up with the long dining table which started by the door and reached all the way to the great window, which was thus made almost inaccessible. The table was already laid for a large number of people, as on Sundays almost all the tenants ate their dinner here at midday.

When K. entered, Miss Montag came towards him from the window along one side of the table. They greeted each other in silence. Then Miss Montag, her head unusually erect as always, said, "I'm not sure whether you know me." K. looked at her with a frown. "Of course I do," he said, "you've been living here with Mrs. Grubach for quite some time now." "But I get the impression you don't pay much attention to what's going on in the lodging house," said Miss Montag. "No," said K. "Would you not like to sit down?" said Miss Montag. In silence, the two of them drew chairs out from the farthest end of the table and sat down facing each other. But Miss Montag stood straight up again as she had left her handbag on the window sill and went to fetch it; she shuffled down the whole length of the room. When she came back, the handbag lightly swinging, she said, "I'd like just to have a few words with you on behalf of my friend. She would have come herself, but she's feeling a little unwell today. Perhaps you'll be kind enough to forgive her and listen to me instead. There's anyway nothing that she could have said that I won't. On the contrary, in fact, I think I can say even more than her because I'm relatively impartial. Would you not agree?" "What is there to say, then?" answered K., who was tired of Miss Montag continuously watching his lips. In that way she took control of what he wanted to say before he said it. "Miss Bürstner clearly refuses to grant me the personal meeting that I asked her for." "That's how it is," said Miss Montag, "or rather, that's not at all how it is, the way you put it is remarkably severe. Generally speaking, meetings are neither granted nor the opposite. But it can be that meetings are considered unnecessary, and that's how it is here. Now, after your comment, I can speak openly. You asked my friend, verbally or in writing, for the chance to speak with her. Now my friend is aware of your reasons for asking for this meeting—or at least I suppose she is—and so, for reasons I know nothing about, she is quite sure that it would be of no benefit to anyone if this meeting actually took place. Moreover, it was only yesterday, and only very briefly, that she made it clear to me that such a meeting could be of no benefit for yourself either, she feels that it can only have been a matter of chance that such an idea came to you, and that even without any explanations from her, you will very soon come to realise yourself, if you have not done so already, the futility of your idea. My answer to that is that although it may be quite right, I consider it advantageous, if the matter is to be made perfectly clear, to give you an explicit answer. I offered my services in taking on the task, and after some hesitation my friend conceded. I hope, however, also to have acted in your interests, as even the slightest uncertainty in the least significant of matters will always remain a cause of suffering and if, as in this case, it can be removed without substantial effort, then it is better if that is done without delay." "I thank you," said K. as soon as Miss Montag had finished. He stood slowly up, looked at her, then across the table, then out the window—the house opposite stood there in the sun—and went to the door. Miss Montag followed him a few paces, as if she did not quite trust him. At the door, however, both of them had to step back as it opened and Captain Lanz entered. This was the first time that K. had seen him close up. He was a large man of about forty with a tanned, fleshy face. He bowed slightly, intending it also for K., and then went over to Miss Montag and deferentially kissed her hand. He was very elegant in the way he moved.

The courtesy he showed towards Miss Montag made a striking contrast with the way she had been treated by K. Nonetheless, Miss Montag did not seem to be cross with K. as it even seemed to him that she wanted to introduce the captain. K. however, did not want to be introduced, he would not have been able to show any sort of friendliness either to Miss Montag or to the captain, the kiss on the hand had, for K., bound them into a group which would keep him at a distance from Miss Bürstner whilst at the same time seeming to be totally harmless and unselfish. K. thought, however, that he saw more than that, he thought he also saw that Miss Montag had chosen a means of doing it that was good, but two-edged. She exaggerated the importance of the relationship between K. and Miss Bürstner, and above all she exaggerated the importance of asking to speak with her and she tried at the same time to make out that K. was exaggerating everything. She would be disappointed, K. did not want to exaggerate anything, he was aware that Miss Bürstner was a little typist who would not offer him much resistance for long. In doing so he deliberately took no account of what Mrs. Grubach had told him about Miss Bürstner. All these things were going through his mind as he left the room with hardly a polite word. He wanted to go straight to his room, but a little laugh from Miss Montag that he heard from the dining room behind him brought him to the idea that he might prepare a surprise for the two of them, the captain and Miss Montag. He looked round and listened to find out if there might be any disturbance from any of the surrounding rooms, everywhere was quiet, the only thing to be heard was the conversation from the dining room and Mrs. Grubach's voice from the passage leading to the kitchen. This seemed an opportune time, K. went to Miss Bürstner's room and knocked gently. There was no sound so he knocked again but there was still no answer in reply. Was she asleep? Or was she really unwell? Or was she just pretending as she realised it could only be K. knocking so gently? K. assumed she was pretending and knocked harder, eventually, when the knocking brought no result, he carefully opened the door with the sense of doing something that was not only improper but also pointless. In the room there was no-one. What's more, it looked hardly at all like the room K. had known before. Against the wall there were now two beds behind one another, there were clothes piled up on three chairs near the door, a wardrobe stood open. Miss Bürstner must have gone out while Miss Montag was speaking to him in the dining room. K. was not greatly bothered by this, he had hardly expected to be able to find Miss Bürstner so easily and had made this attempt for little more reason than to spite Miss Montag. But that made it all the more embarrassing for him when, as he was closing the door again, he saw Miss Montag and the captain talking in the open doorway of the dining room. They had probably been standing there ever since K. had opened the door, they avoided seeming to observe K. but chatted lightly and followed his movements with glances, the absent minded glances to the side such as you make during a conversation. But these glances were heavy for K., and he rushed alongside the wall back into his own room.

[thexbox]

I thought I made all this because when I find cool stuff, I like to share it with others. Now I'm thinking it was my own form of therapy to process and transmute deep wounds without any support. It allowed me to engage in a two-way conversation with myself.

It's funny that talking to yourself is seen as crazy but it actually is a practice of reflection that maintains sanity. Its like Journaling.

I've thought about having a private blog, but I don't think it would be the same. Part of it is owning the journey and releasing the fear of being seen. I always think if someone can relate or enjoys the music, then it's worth it to be an open book. It's a practice in vulnerability and letting go of self judgements. A private blog wouldn't push me in those ways.

《 you need to go respond to messages now. That is going to push you more than this ever will.》

《 Ok but I really dont want to. I really want to hide under the covers longer. 》

《I know. Will you ever be ready though? Like a bandaid.》

*Hits snooze*

I've been so cringe in the past and of course I regret things from time to time. That's just life. I suppose it's easier to hide from my mistakes if I never have to talk about them.

Whats better? Laughing at myself for being a fucking freakshow. Hey it entertains.

Accepting those mistakes and not letting them define me is how I have found greater inner peace with myself. It's a process and I'm working on it as I write this. It's why I'm writing it.

It's a practice of self-love to defend your own heart as you would for a friend. Being unashamed of my flaws, failures, and madness because I deserve to give myself a break. I've been through a lot these past couple of years, and I've done a lot of work on my heart to find strength and self compassion in some really difficult circumstances.

Self compassion is not something I grew up with. It's something I learned much later in life through a lot of therapy. Retraining the mind to notice when I'm being hard on myself and redirect to another voice, one that is more conscious, more understanding and forgiving.

I find these days my anxieties dont come from analyzing my mistakes, but more from fears or dis-ease about the future.

《Aaaand here we are. Time to put your big girl panties on and message people back》

It's weird that it's such a mental block for me. I've never been comfortable on Facebook. Apparently avoidance just makes anxiety worse though.

Update: I cried the whole time reading your messages. You guys are so sweet. It's really nice.

Demons aren't so bad if you sit with them and give them space. Turning a blind eye to them and letting them run the show is when they get ya. I definitely worked that up to something big when it was really quite small.

Life goes on. Forever. Consciousness never ends. My soul chose this life with all its major struggles and points of loneliness and despair because I wanted to heal my heart above all. I think so I can heal other people too.

It's why I share.

This track helped me so so much. Whenever I felt utterly alone and unappreciated late at night, I'd listen to it and feel loved again.

Hive mind.

That is the dark side of the spoon under the Easter chick

[jannyincanada]

How the 5 mins change my life

Growing up, I wasnt keen on working overseas. I am a born Filipino and I believe that we should just be staying with our roots. But the years passed, I would see my parents leave the Philippines, my relatives to work in a foreign country and that scared me. I told myself I would stay home, make a career that would fulfill my dreams and life would be easy. But you see, life proved me wrong. I grew up with the knowledge I was not born with a golden spoon. I have learned the struggles of the middle working class families in the Philippines. There’s no way out but to take a leap of faith. Although that thought was there I was determined to stay. Why should I leave my comfort zone? I am already contented with my life. I finish college with the only thought of why do I only get a small amount of allowance. Other than that, I was happy, I was contented with what I got. Until I realized I couldn’t get a job with the degree I finished. Political Science was somehow irrelevant with the job on demand. Either you run for office or work for the government that’s just how you can use the degree that you worked hard for four years. And with the challenge to get a job without sucking up to the higher ranks or be in a Political dynasty. I was screwed. So the best step to do was go to the city, where jobs were offered. But the things, it was somehow unrelated to the one you want to pursue. I found myself working in a finance company. To think the only Political Science degree holder working with accounting and finance would be a confusing mix, however it turned out great.

So how did that five minutes changed my life? Let’s go back a little bit before I worked for a F&A company. After I finished my degree, my aunt who’s working in Canada told me that I need to study Caregiving because she’s planning to get me to work there. Of course I didn’t want to. As I said, I was already happy with what I have. But with a few more nudge, I gave in. To be honest, I wasn’t really happy. I detest medical things. I don’t like caring for other people. I was ashamed to tell even my friends that I was going through all this stuff. There’s a stigma in the Philippines that if you worked as a Nanny, you’re a maid. A low class family would only go for that. It’s the worst but it’s the truth. I don’t want anyone to know I was doing this because I’m already a degree holder. It was the pride talking. Still I went with it to please my family. When I was done with the course, I got to work in the city because I was in the impression that I wouldn’t make it. I was literally doing a bad job so I don’t need to leave. But as weeks passed, I felt alive. It was my first time leaving the town I grew up in. I could feel that i’m stepping out of my comfort zone. I could do whatever I want since i’m already earning money. It was surreal. I have never felt more alive.

Since I was a fresh graduate, I saw some of my batch mates taking the PhilSat ( an entrance exam for law school). Since I was already in Manila. I decided to take the Philsat without anyone knowing I took it. I was just testing the waters, if I passed great. If I fail, still great since no one will know. After 6 weeks, I was so surprised, I passed. Still, I didn’t tell anyone, not even my boyfriend. I wanted to try to apply for law school. That was really my dream. So I took an entrance exam at San Beda And UST. They were my dream Universities. And there was no disappointments again if ever I fail. It was just a maybe. So after taking it, I went back to my usual routines, forgetting that I took them. By that time, I was already fixing my papers going to Canada. So I was really distracted. On March 4, 2018, I was on my way to our locker room at work to stow away my stuff when suddenly my phone pop a notification. It was one of the emails I was really scared to check. I was already set to go to Canada and my aunt was always telling me to not get my hopes up especially since it was gonna be a long shot. I opened my email and lo and behold, my working visa arrived. My heart was racing, I was literally numb that time. Was it time to send my resignation I was so lost and confused, happy at the same time too when suddenly my phone rang. It was an unknown number and when I answered it, It was from San Beda Law office. I am being scheduled for an interview since I passed the entrance exam. I was so shocked I complete forgot about the exam I took. And now it got me confused. I was crying and don’t know what to do. It was a spun of exactly five minutes when a decision was needed to be decided. Canada or Law school.

And now I am currently writing this, tolerating -40. Well we know how it end up. If Law school hadn’t waited for 5 minutes, I wouldn’t have realized the change I needed to have. It was those 5 minutes that made me thinking, I am destined to be right where I am now.

[briamichellewrites]

36

Brad told Bria the truth about the situation with Rob. He expected her to get upset since she had a bad breakup with him. Instead, she surprised him by saying she already knew about it. How did she find out? She told him about her dream. He didn’t know what to think or what to say. She finished by saying that Rob was an asshole and she wanted nothing to do with him. They didn’t know that he was listening to their entire conversation.

Until he made his presence known to them. Mike and Phoenix joined them shortly, as they expected a fight and they wanted to be ready to act as backup or to pull them apart. Mike asked what was going on. Brad explained that he was just telling her about Rob, but she already knew. He had them all come into the living room with him because he was worried about them fighting.

They sat down. Rob asked her how the hell she found out. She told them about her dream, where she fell into a coma after drinking with Brad Pitt. They all visited her at the hospital. Right before she woke up, they were told by the doctor that if or when she woke up from her coma, she would be in a vegetative state and they were deciding what to do. She was pissed off with Rob because Brad was her boyfriend. Not his. He was a dick.

“Is this because I broke up with you”, he asked.

“That’s part of it.”

Phoenix asked her to stop. Neither he nor Mike wanted them fighting over Brad. The guys mentally thanked him. She got up and walked out to the kitchen. If she wasn’t allowed to speak, she was going to get started making dinner. Mike told them to let her be. He would talk to her later. They agreed. He did excuse himself to see what she was doing and to make sure she wasn’t hurting herself.

No, she was just making dinner. That was fine. Phoenix asked what she was doing and he answered. Okay. After sitting down, they went back to the conversation. Rob felt like they hated him and they didn’t want him to be in the band anymore. Like, they were pushing him out. No, they didn’t hate him. They were worried about him. It felt like he was being ignored and judged. They listened as he expressed his emotions. He shouldn’t have said anything about it to Brad.

That was his fault and he regretted that every day. But, he wasn’t psychotic or whatever. He just had a crush and he spoke without thinking. During their conversation, he thought he could be open and honest. Then, when he saw him getting freaked out, he wished he never said anything. He thought that by giving him time, they could talk about it and go back to normal.

Mike took responsibility for telling Brad to stay away from him because he was freaked out and he thought it was for the best. He didn’t know how much that hurt him. Now, he did and he was sorry. Phoenix also took responsibility and apologized. He wasn’t a monster or a creep, but that was what they made him out to feel like. Thank you. He appreciated their apologies. Brad. He also wanted to go back to how things were before.

Enough time had passed that he was able to work through everything and he was ready to move on. He never hated him. Rob told him he was fine with being friends. He would always love him, but he refused to let it take over his life. Thank you. They got up and hugged.

“What the hell did Bria say about her dream”, Phoenix asked.

“I have no idea. She just told me it randomly. If it happened, could we sue Brad for negligence”, Mike jokingly asked.

“He’s done a lot of shit. That might just be the worst. He would be lucky to leave the hospital with a full set of teeth”, Phoenix joked.

Mike called for Bria. She came back in holding a wooden spoon. They asked her what happened to Brad Pitt in her dream. Nothing. He stayed for a while and then left. They were the ones who took turns staying with her. For how long? Three weeks. Damn, that was a long time! She went back to the kitchen.

They decided to join her. The animals were eating dinner together, as she stirred whatever was cooking on the stove. What was she making? It was just cut-up pieces of sausage and vegetables with Worcestershire sauce. She was feeling lazy, so she wanted something quick and easy. They all knew it was going to be delicious! Brad let her know that the four of them were getting along.

“Good because I’m not in the mood to kick your ass!”

They laughed. Brad asked her questions about her dream, so she gave them more information about what happened. First, she started from the beginning. She had been hanging out with them and drinking Mountain Dew. Ok. Then, she went over to Brad’s because he invited her over. They were drinking a strong drink, she couldn’t remember what kind it was. Whiskey. It was whiskey.

They were doing shots. She got drunk, so he put her on the couch and she fell asleep. He checked on her around ten minutes later and found her unresponsive. Before she fell asleep, he gave her a glass of water. Anyway, she woke up after the paramedics did CPR on her. She fell into a coma for about three weeks and was supposed to wake up. What happened after three weeks? The doctor pulled them into a meeting. He told them if or when she woke up, she would be in a vegetative state.

That meant needing a feeding tube, diapers, and a breathing tube. They were talking about how they would help her and if they would hire someone to come in and help them. Did they do that? She didn’t know because she woke up from a dream.

“I could literally hear everything you guys were saying to me. It was bizarre, like watching a movie but also being in the movie. I also got to talk to my mother.”

“What did she say”, Mike asked.

“She said she loved you guys and how proud she was of me. Then, she apologized for not being there for me. She also told me it wasn’t my time yet.”

Wow. She was so beautiful and she looked exactly like her! That happened right before she woke up from her dream. Good for her for getting to meet her. When dinner was ready, she served up six plates for them. Three had meat. Three only had vegetables. Like always, it tasted delicious! Since she didn’t know that Brad and Rob were joining them for dinner, she didn’t plan on making anything vegan.

That was fine. Her phone went off. It was Brad inviting her over.

I’m eating dinner, dude. – Bria

What the hell was he talking about? After asking for clarification, he responded that he had Jon Bon Jovi over. She called him and he again, told her that he had Jon over. You’re an asshole. She then asked him to give her an hour to finish eating and drive over. He laughed and said they would be waiting for her. She told her friends she was ditching them for Jon Bon Jovi. Don’t get drunk! She would try not to! They laughed.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog

[mistralxsoul]

Flynn was a bit grateful that Yuri seemed to revert back to normal for the time being. Flynn did want to talk more with Yuri about everything but at the dinner table in front of Karol, and to some extent Repede, was not the place to do so. So when Yuri returned and began to pass around the drinks and serve the food, Flynn allowed him to continue on as normal. 

He couldn’t help but smile as he watched his friend, the nostalgia of the situation hitting him at full force. How many times had Yuri and Flynn sat at a table together with the children back in the Lower Quarter? Simply just living life together before things got so complicated? Flynn would never regret the path he took, though he was certain that there were some things he would gladly do differently. But he knew that Yuri also never regretted the path he took. 

But if he had the choice to go back to those times for at least a day? He would probably take it, no hesitation. 

“You’re not as bad anymore.” Karol decides, after a long moment of thought. “It’s just that you and Judy like fighting too much and the monsters are tougher to fight now without the Blastia and you guys stress me out sometimes.” 

Flynn laughed a bit at Karol’s pout as he let his eyes dart back over to meet Yuri’s. “To be fair, we’ve been fighting monsters since long before we had our Bodhi Blastia. So it’s not impossible for us. It’s just an adjustment…” 

“You only say that just cause you like fighting too, Flynn!” Karol exclaims, shoving a spoonful of the pork stew into his mouth with a huff, only to flinch back when it burns his tongue. “Ow– Ow– Too Hot–” 

“Hey, let it cool first. It won’t run away before you can eat it.” Flynn snorted, shaking his head. It seemed even the boss of a guild could be impatient when it came to eating food. He remembered all of the times he had likely done the same growing up. 

As Flynn waited for his own bowl to cool, he paused to consider Yuri’s question. He could feel the earlier stress begin to slip back into his shoulders as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “The Noble Quarter is finding every reason in the world to complain about the cold but they’re fine.” He glanced over the topic of the Noble Quarter so quickly that he was sure it was obvious that he didn’t really feel like talking about them at the moment. Which worked out just fine, because he was certain Yuri couldn’t care less about the Noble Quarter either.

“Master Ioder has put a plan in place to start building a new water filtering system, that’s true.” Flynn’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m backing it as much as possible but the Council… they’re fighting it for some ungodly reason. Stating it’s a waste of resources. But if we can get past them, we’ll be good to get that project started.” 

Flynn could never understand the politics of these kinds of situations. Water should be a basic human right and yet the Council kept trying to argue that the citizens would survive without it. That was exactly how people got sick. Flynn, and Yuri, would know that from experience. He really didn’t want to have to go down the sympathy route in order to appeal to the council but it was starting to seem like he would have to write an entire book on the reasons why having non filtered water was dangerous.

“...In slightly better news, the inn in the Lower Quarter was approved for a remodel. That’ll likely be started in a couple of months. The innkeeper still has your room in tact, Yuri, so if you decide to come by, you can collect your things long enough for the remodel. If not, I suppose I can do it for you and just hold whatever’s left over there in my room for the time being.” He admittedly found himself visiting that room whenever he had the time to do so. To just help dust it and have it ready for Yuri if he were to drop by surprise. He wanted to have a place waiting for Yuri to return to if he wanted to, after all. 

Not permanently, of course but… He figured it would be a nice gesture at any rate.

He was at least able to let out a short, amused breath at Karol's reaction. "No Karol, it wasn't literally a deep dark secret." Sometimes the kid could be so unaware, just trudging along as any child would. It was easy to forget sometimes that he still had that side of him, but honestly, it was better that he did. A kid his age had already seen too much. He didn't need to mature for his age more than he did. He needed to put a hold on that and enjoy what was life of his childhood.

When he switched to grabbing their drinks, he pointedly took longer than usual. Flynn was talking to Karol instead of him on purpose - Yuri could tell what he was doing. Could tell he was trying to level this out for Yuri who didn't know what to say in this situation. He was grateful for it though, because thinking on it now, he hadn't ever really had time to properly address emotion himself. His life hadn't had time to pause for a while now since they had gotten rid of the blastia. There had scarcely been moments he could reserve for himself.

But he wasn't going to risk ruining a perfectly good dinner with two of his most important people - even less so when it wasn't something that happened regularly. It wasn't Karol's fault - it wasn't anyone's fault really. It was just a chunk of complicated feelings in a person who struggled to work them out. Putting other people first outside of basic survival had always been his priority. It was only once that was settled in the moment that he gave himself a thought.

Sometimes Karol and Judith had to almost literally pull him out to hang out with them as just people and not just as a guild. Ever since he'd left Zaphias in the first place, he'd gotten used to not really slowing down. In a way, he was almost afraid of slowing down - that once he did so, he'd fall right back to his old routines and hardly be assed to do anything. Things were better now and he was mostly out of that low, depressive state, but he damn near feared that if he stopped being everywhere all at once now that he would just end up regressing right back to where he started.

Maybe he wouldn't, but he didn't want to take the chance. It occurred to him as he picked up the drinks, three in his hands and arms instead of the usual two, that he still had the instinct of carrying multiple drinks at once. He'd done it plenty with the orphans in the Lower Quarter, but that part of him had never seemed to leave him. That... had probably been the best point of his life, actually. Before the feeling of uselessness hit, and before the time he and Flynn had started to grow apart. If Flynn was open to stopping that from ever happening again, Yuri would fight for it not to.

So he took a deep breath and gave himself a moment to adjust. He just had to switch back and not think about that stuff. Well, that was the initial intention... but it took a minute to process when he returned to the two of them and saw Karol listening with interest while Flynn had his attention on him. At this point Karol was basically an orphan Yuri had taken in regardless of the more literal circumstance of Karol effectively taking him in.

It was like seeing something from years ago - Yuri preparing the table and seeing Flynn engaging the orphans back at Zaphias. They had always worked as a team in that way, and even if Karol amount to only one, for a second he could have forgotten they weren't still the older kids at the orphanage looking out for their collective younger siblings. Those kids... had all grown up now. Some of them were adults now, and some would be getting damn close.

Right. Rebooting brain. He was not still a fifteen year old orphan in the Lower Quarter.

As he set the drinks down on the table in each of their spots, he half raised an eyebrow at Karol's statement. "I can't still be that bad about it, can I? I mean sure, I rush in first if something is time sensitive, but I'd like to think I'm not as bad as I was. I might have been scolded so much for that that it might finally have sunk in." Yeah, everyone could serve themselves, but having more than two people in the room usually kicked his instincts in and he was already filling the other bowls before his own.

Actually sitting down though was somewhat relieving. Guild business aside, the past week was busier just trying to deal with the other guilds trying to figure themselves out still, finding new ways to handle old blastia functions, making sure people were getting back on track... Natz had even visited only days ago to check on Dahngrest and keep up with relations to prevent them from falling back into any tension. Sometimes Yuri's input was requested, but thankfully most of the people around him recognized he didn't want to be seen as an authority figure. Changing things for the better was fine, but he still preferred to be an average citizen when it came down to it.

"What about the people in Zaphias?" He directed his attention back to Flynn. "Are they getting by okay still without the blastia? I had heard something from Raven about them wanting to try a new water filtering system in the Lower Quarter, but I don't know if they've progressed beyond just talks of it."

[arcielee]

Alone, Together

Pairing: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader   Summary: You did not mean to get tipsy, but Aegon takes care of you.   Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of rehab, but this is purely fluff.   Word Count:  1619 Author’s Note: This was inspired by my muse @f4ll-for-you​, thank you for being my beta reader and helping me find structure to this. ♥ This was kind of foreshadowed with an exchanged look between Jace and Cregan in Wait So Long.  Just another continuation to my not-really-a-series series about modern Aegon. I write him as more of a golden retriever bf after he has successfully completely the rehabilitation and therapy that poor bb desperately needed. Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond​ @sirenofavalon​ @annikin-im-panicin​ @watercolorskyy​ @schniiipsel​ @sylas-the-grim​ @aemondx​ @fan-goddess​ @babygirlyofthevale​ @httpsdoll​ @theromanticegoist​

“How drunk do you think they will be?”

Aegon assumed very, especially after Baela took charge for the bachelorette celebration. Though you never really drank often, if ever, as you found the taste of alcohol to be too much unless craftily mixed to hide the liquor entirely, Baela would be well aware and nothing would stop her from celebrating her dear friend getting engaged. You felt hesitant, but Aegon smiled and gave you a kiss with the simple instruction, “Go, have fun.” 

You left with your friends and Cregan, Jace, the Cargylls and his brothers all came over to the apartment, an informal hang out while Baela sent updates throughout the night: the drag show you went to, the meal at your favorite restaurant, the farewell toast of fruity beverages to your single life. 

The proposal had been unexpected for only you. Aegon had purchased the ring when he left the center, knowing full well that life was done for him and that you, with absolute certainty, were his future. He hoped to create a romantic moment, but instead it came when he had opened the door one evening and saw you in the kitchen. You were wearing one of his shirts and mismatched socks, your hair mostly pulled back with your bangs framing your rosy complexion as you focused on the task at hand. 

“It’s pasta,” you called over your shoulder, before turning and allowing him to see the apron you wore over his shirt, how it cinched your slender waist and the access fabric that spilled over. “The sauce is simmering, but do you mind tasting it and seeing if it needs more–”

“Marry me.”

You met with his eyes and he closed the space between you, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest for a kiss that drew the breath from your lungs. When he broke away, you were stunned and still had your hand wrapped around the spoon you used to stir the sauce. “Aegon, what…?” 

“We should get married,” his smile stretched across his jawline, his eyes bright with his words. “If you will have me, I want you to be my wife.”

You stammered your response. “A-are you sure about this?” It was a subject you left alone, mostly because of the torment he carried from the dysfunctional relationship between his mother and father when his father was still alive, but you did not mind. You loved him, you always had, and you knew he was yours.

Aegon burned for you. “I am sure,” and he pulled out a velvet box to reveal a ring, taking your hand into his own and slipping it onto your finger. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Your friend group was thrilled that Aegon had asked, that it finally was happening, and Baela threw herself into preparations, while Aegon and the boys had a more relaxed approach to their evening. He enjoyed having everyone at the apartment, with the retro console Jace brought that refueled a rivalry since their childhood. 

Even Aemond came that night, bringing his usual quiet reserve; as they watched Daeron and Jace needle at one another, with Cregan trying his best to referee, Aemond pulled Aegon aside. “You seem really happy,” his voice low with the congratulations.

His smile beamed in response and he showed Aemond the latest photo sent of you laughing, gleeful. “I am,” and he wrapped his arm around his brother.

“She brings out the best in you,” Aemond added, his brow raised. 

“I like to think so,” Aegon wet his lips. “Be my best man?”

His lips curled slightly, the hint of a smile that Aegon always searched for and cherished. “Of course.” 

The night waned away and Aegon noticed his phone screen lit up with a text message, we have arrived. He announced it to his friends and they filed out of the apartment, in search of the drunken return of the girls, bounding down the flight of stairs. 

Out front he saw Baela and Rhaena trying to coax you from the car.

“Sweetie, we are home,” Rhaena kneeled in front of the open door, her tone honeyed. Aegon peered over to see how you were sitting crossed legged, holding your shoes and purse against your chest, your eyes wide and glassy. “Don’t you want to go upstairs?”

“I can’t,” your voice was small, tear laced, and Aegon watched you carefully, perched behind Rhaena’s shoulder. “I am so drunk, I cannot walk. I cannot…Aeg cannot see me like this.”

Aegon smiled to himself, touching Rhaena’s elbow, who graciously stepped aside. “Hey, pretty girl,” his low timbre was a balm to your boozed soul, your cheeks warming from his voice. “Come out of the car and let me take you back to our bed.”

You were embarrassed, shy almost, but reached for his hand and he turned around. “Be my backpack, hm?” he called over his shoulder and you wrapped your limbs around him like he was your lifeline. Baela gave a quick kiss to Jace, grabbing your purse and shoes to follow, with her promise to be right back. 

Aegon was careful with you, as always, and you nestled your face between his shoulder blades, enjoying the smell of fresh laundry and that cologne you had gotten for him. Baela grabbed each door and deposited your belongings on the kitchen counter, petting your golden retriever on top of his head, and calling goodbye over her shoulder when she left.

He placed you onto the couch and you giggled as Sunfyre tried to lick your toes; Aegon returned from the kitchen, shooing Sunfyre from your side and handing you a glass of water. “Hydrate,” he said, sinking next to you and watching as you took the glass, gripping it with both hands.

“Are you mad at me?”

His brow quirked with your question. “No, why would I be? Actually,” he gently touched beneath the glass and lifted it towards your lips, “please drink this and then answer me.” 

You took a comically large gulp and he could not help but smile again, but it faded quickly when he noticed your glassy eyes. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he asked as he took the half full glass from your hands and set it on the coffee table. 

“I did not want to be so drunk, Aeg, but they had strawberry,” your words babbled like a brook with your confessions, spilling from your red stained lips. “I only wanted to hang out with my friends and celebrate, but the strawberries were so tasty…”

Strawberry jello shots, Baela had warned him in the texts along with the following, my bad. 

The strawberry jello stained your lips, your tongue exceptionally pink as you continued, “I did not want to be drunk and come home…you have been amazing, Aeg, truly, and I feel like I am throwing it in your face!”

“Hey,” his voice was low, soothing, as he cupped your cheeks to bring your focus to him. “I’m fine, I promise you,” he smiled with his words, his thumbs wiping the large tears that spilled from the corners of your eyes. “I am 3 years sober and I have you to thank for that. You have seen me at my absolute worst and helped me through it. Now I have a moment where I can take care of you and your strawberry, giggling, crying mess–this is the least I could do.” 

You hiccupped again. “I’m a mess?”

You sounded childlike and Aegon could not help but laugh, bringing your face in and kissing you softly. “Yes, but you are my beautiful mess,” he paused for a moment, a playful grin curling on his lips. “Mrs. Mess, actually.”

You groaned but smiled, “Gods, Aeg, you are so cheesy.” 

“Ah, fair, but you remember that you said yes,” he reminded you, “so, you cannot take it back now.”

Your expression is almost somber when you look at him, your eyes wet and wide to take him in. “I never would.” 

The genuineness in your tone made him blush and his throat bobbed with a swallow as he pulled away to stand, reaching his hand back to take your own. “Come on, pretty girl,” and he pulled you to stand up, his other hand on your hip as you found your balance. 

You glowed with your smile towards him and he felt it permeate through his rib cage, curling with its warmth in his chest. He placed a hand on each hip bone and helped guide you towards the bed; there was a struggle to remove the dress that poured over your curves, but only after Aegon agreed to give you the shirt he was currently wearing. “It smells like you,” you explained as he peeled it off. 

You tried to kiss him, a deep kiss that would taste like strawberries, and as much as he wished to melt into you, he remained chaste with your advances, the inkling in the back of his mind that he would rather you be sober. Instead, he retrieved the glass of water, which you finished and then immediately announced that you had to use the restroom, and he waited outside the door to bring you back to the bed. 

He crawled beneath the covers and you curled against his chest, Sunfyre bouncing up and laying on your legs. Aegon drew small circles on your back until your breathing was steady, and he continued still; his eyes fell to your sleeping form, your features highlighted by the city lights that spilled through the blinds, and he could not stop the smile that curled on his lips with the thought, Mrs. Mess.

modern Aegon masterlist // Arcie’s masterlist