#someone needs to tell my grandma she can't fucking say shit like that

[cas-coding]

tagvent bc yeah

[waitingforminjae]

not my mom being a kirk cameron stan

[hunterbunter3000]

I'm thinking of sweetheart being the mother of task force 141 when laswell isn't there like in the middle of the night when sweetheart is sleeping and just wakes up when she hears the door creaking and looks at the door and sees one of the boys looking like they were crying and they ask if they could cuddle with then because they had a nightmare and sweetheart just coos at them pats the empty spot so they can lay on and sweetheart spoons them making on of the boys feel safe and falls asleep immediately while sweetheart is slowly scratching their head

And then sweetheart falls asleep and when she wakes up of the cod boys are in her room, asleep and she just laughs and gets out of bed and go make some breakfast and coffee or tea for them

Like AHHODHDHEBR like if ghost was the one he would have slight tears in his eyes or konig I know damn well he would be holding a tiger teddy-

Fucking sobbing on the floor for this shit

I AM TOOOOO WTF THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭😭😭 König holding a tiger teddy that he's had ever since he was a kid is making me ferallLLLLLLAAHHHH

LIKE MY MATERNAL INSTINCTS ARE JUST KICKING INNNNN

And I'm sorry- all I saw was König and tiger stuffy and now this whole thing is just about him AHAHANA

Brown Palace and Grey Oceans

--

(Help this got so long-- it always starts off funny and then i try to be an actual writer smh YOU'LL SEE WHAT I MEAN)

(I honestly don't know what König looks like... even the wiki lore isn't saying anything so I kinda just made him up myself 😅 like how everyone does LOL)

Süße Torte = Sweet Pie

Cw.: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFY FLUFF

Word count: long. (IDK HOW TO DO A WORD COUNT)

Yk damn WELL König would open her door as quietly as possible and tip toe to her. He would second guess waking her up cause she looks so damn peaceful sleeping. Her eyelashes laying gently on her soft cheeks, the moonlight shining on her brown skin, making her look ethereal. But he needs comfort right now. The nightmare he had, he can't deal with that by himself.

So he would gently shake Sweetheart's shoulder. And she would SO wake up like a parent would: gasping for air, wide eyed and jerking back. He would step back and apologize. He thinks this was a bad idea but Sweetheart stops him.

Sweetheart, wiping her eyes and sleep in her voice: What's wrong hun?

König, holding his tiger to his side: Uhm... I had a bad... very bad dream.

He breathes in deep, tears welling in his eyes.

König, voice shaking: Can I please sleep with you...?

Sweetheart could hear her heart break. Seeing such a unit of a man be dwindled down to this... (I WANNA HUG HIM)

Her eyebrows knit together, sad that he feels this way. She scoots over and pats her bed. König sniffs, hand rubbing his nose under his home hood. (The brown embroidered hood Sweetheart made him for the base)

He squeezes in there, both of them getting situated in her already small bed. Sweetheart has most of the blanket, but König doesn't care. As long as he's with someone. (Sweetheart specifically)

He turns to her body, face now in her bosom. His eyes go wide, and he looks up at her. She smiles warmly at him. Her eyes go to the little tiger teddy he's holding in his hands. She coos at him.

Sweetheart: How long have you had that?

König feels embarrassed. He kinda forgot he even brought it with him, as it's his comfort companion. (His grandma found it in the attic and sent it to him)

He curses as he hides it behind his back, but Sweetheart grabs his arm. She holds the stuffed tiger, a cute tiny smile and round ears with stripes loosely sewn on the fading base. A big black button for the eye, but the other one is missing, it's just an opening. It's missing a tail, and some tears are on the body. A very old stuffed animal, but Sweetheart can tell it's loved.

Sweetheart: it's so cute... what's the name?

She's not judging him. A grown man, standing at a whopping 6'10, owns an old tiger stuffed animal that he has had ever since he was a child. And she's not judging him. Not laughing in his face and kicking him out. She's asking what his name is, with curiosity in her eyes. How is she real?

König, whispering: ....Hobbes.

Sweetheart: Pardon?

König, speaking a bit louder: His name is-- is Hobbes.

Sweetheart, gasps: Like from Calvin and Hobbes?

König, perks up: You know of those comics?

Sweetheart, giggling: Hell yeah! I used to read them constantly when I was younger. I still have them actually at my home! You could read some if you want when I go back.

König, getting excited and feeling better: I would love that, Süße Torte. Thank you.

Sweetheart, smiling and giving Hobbes back to him: No problem. Are you feeling tired?

He nods his head, about to take off his hood but stops himself. He looks at Sweetheart, eyes asking 'Should I take this off? Will you be uncomfortable?' She looks back him. 'The real question is, will You be uncomfortable if you take it off?'

König thinks on this. He looks back at her brown eyes. Her soft, dark eyes. Eyes that suck him every time he looks at them, entering the smoky quartz palace he would stay in forever. Eyes that always make him feel safe, wrapping him in the darkest color of silk. Eyes that hold many stories and love. Sensual, trustworthy eyes. He can trust her.

König: I trust you.

He takes it off and places it on the floor, face bare and open to the world. He could have sworn Sweetheart's eyes sparkled with actual stars when they got wide. His messy, auburn brown hair is swept back. Thick, soft angeled eyebrows nervously twitch under the hard stare from the woman.

And his eyes, oh, his round, gentle eyes. The ones that light up and shine when she looks at them. The grayish green tint reminded her of clear ocean water, wanting to swim in them forever. Eyes that hold many stories and many secrets. Beautiful eyes. He's beautiful to her.

With his crooked and scarred nose, he has broken many times over the years. Pink downturned lips, curtained over with a thin brown beard on a sharp jaw.

König gulps, eyes still focused on hers. They're staring into each other's color, too far gone to come back to reality. Sweetheart breaks it after what it felt like hours. She starts to laugh quietly, making König confused and a bit self-conscious. She looks back up at him.

Sweetheart, scoffing in disbelief: Who would've thought you were so pretty under those hoods...

He can't breathe.

Sweetheart, still shocked: I mean I never would've guessed. You're... wow.

She places her hand on his sharp cheek. Skin on skin. Warmth. He can feel it. Finally.

Sweetheart: You're really beautiful, Y'know that König?

He can't-- this- it's too much. Overwhelming. Her warm hand, the soft awe look in her eye, her scent, her words, her eyes-- it's too much.

He dips into her neck, hiding his face as his hands wrap around her.

König, beet red: Can we please just- go to sleep? My heart... my heart can't take much more of this.

Sweetheart giggles, wrapping her hands on his head.

Sweetheart: of course.

Her long nails scratch the nape of his neck, almost making König purr. He relaxes into her, molding his body against hers, as they finally give themselves to the night.

König woke up on an empty bed. The sunlight poked at his eyes, telling him to start his day. His hand feels the cozy sheets, where Sweetheart's supposed to be. Sweetheart. Where is she?

He rolls over but falls on the floor with a huge thud and a yelp, and her items shudder from his clumsiness. He grabs his hood as he gets up, stretching his sleepy body. How long was he asleep? It felt like a coma. But nonetheless, he feels extremely well rested, with Sweetheart in his arms and Hobbes-- wait a minute...

Where's Hobbes?

His heart rate picks up as he speeds walk out of her room. Are the others awake? Is she showing them? Making fun of him? No, no please no.

He gets out of his head when he Sweetheart in the living area alone, repairing Hobbes. She hums as she works with a smile, bonnet still on her head, wearing a big sweater and leggings with her legs crossed. She ticks up and sees König.

Sweetheart, waving at him: Good morning, baby! How'd ya sleep?

Baby?

Baby. She called him baby.

König stumbles back a bit. He shakes his head and clears his throat, an overwhelming feeling replacing the over-thinking.

König: yeah. I mean- fine! Good. Wonderful. I slept wonderfully. It was... I needed that. Thank you.

Sweetheart, chuckling: Of course! By the way, there's coffee and some eggs I made you in the kitchen. If you want it.

König, feeling his heart melt: Oh, thank you Süße Torte. I appreciate it.

She nods her head, continuing back to repairing Hobbes with her needle and thread. König relishes this feeling. The feeling of them being the only ones awake, the feeling of having breakfast made, the feeling of enjoying one's presence. It felt right. It felt domesticated. It felt...

Like they were together. In a relationship. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Husband and wife.

He shakes his head, almost spilling the sugar he was pouring for his coffee. He looks back at Sweetheart, still in her own world, being her. Being perfect.

Boyfriend and girlfriend. He scoffs, mixing his coffee. Please, that will never happen.

You're really beautiful, y'know that König?

He stops.

You're... wow.

His heart beating fast yet sinking at the same time. A small sick feeling in his stomach but butterflies in his chest. He collects his eggs and coffee and places it on the table before heading to Sweetheart on the couch. He sits across from her, watching her working hands, nimble and caring to Hobbes' tears. She sees him and smiles, showing her work.

Sweetheart: Look! I'm almost done sewing up his little scars. I also fixed his eye and tightened his ears and limbs! I need to wash and refill him, though.

She went on and on, rambling on what to do for Hobbes. König smiles. He hasn't done that in so long. He takes off his hood and places his hand on her knee. Their eyes meet, hers sparkling again from seeing his face.

König, sincerely smiling: I thank you for all that you have done for me. In just a short time... I feel like I found myself again.

Sweetheart beams. She's so glad she could help him out. Seeing König in that state last night makes her heart feel heavy, but none of that. He's happy. He's relaxed. He's grateful.

Her hand rests on top of his, and he moves his into hers, Sweetheart's now perched atop of his. The sun smiles on their eyes, their different colored crystals gleam bright.

Sweetheart: You're welcome.

They stayed like that, enjoying each other's company until they were sucked in.

Her Brown Palace and His Grey Oceans.

--

Lil Bonus.!

Sweetheart: Have you noticed that Hobbes doesn't have a tail?

König, snickering: Yes, I know. When I was little, Krueger would fight me over Hobbes. And one day, he pulled on it so hard that he ripped off the tail. I cried for days.

Sweetheart:

Sweetheart, getting up: Imma choke him out.

König: Sweetheart no that was years ago!

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank ya for reading ♡🙏

[purpletrashcans]

I am so fucking annoyed and here is why

I recently made the discovery that i'm probably aromantic and i would like to do what i did when i discoverd that i'm trans which is go and watch/read everything that even has the tiniest bit of trans representation in it, but i can't because there is no aromantic representation

now obviously that's nothing new, i was aware of this problem before and it pissed me right off then as much as it does now

it’s honestly just such bullshit that whenever there is an asexual character in media, basically the first thing they say after coming out as ace is that "they still want to fall in love" like not wanting, not being able to feel romantic love, would make them less human or something like that and of course there are ace people who are not aro, i'm not saying that and i'm not trying to shit on anybodys identity, if you are ace and not aro you are just as valid as anybody else and this lack of aro rep is obviously not your fault, we also need more ace rep while we're on it, that's not the point i'm trying to make, what i mean is that media always tells us that romance makes us human and if you don’t experience that you are either immature, unstable or not human and that's just bullshit

also it is no wonder that when i told my grandma about Loveless by Alice Oseman and how much i love this book, she was worried that i was like Georgia because i never like anyone romantically, she has never heard of aromanticism before, when she thinks of adult people that have never been in a relationship and don't have children she thinks of lonely, sad people and she doesn't want that for me

it is no wonder that when i see my greataunt and -uncle once a year they ask if i have a partner and when i say that no, i don't have a partner, they tell me that i have time and i'll meet someone eventually

and it is no wonder that so, so many people think that they're broken, that they enter relationships and situations that they don't want to be in, that fucking therapist try to cure people, that it took me 21 years, almost losing my friends, actually losing 8 kg in two months do to disordered eating and reading Loveless two times to figure out that i might just be aro, when there is barely any representation whatsoever, when most people haven't even heard of aromanticism

we need more representation and we need it desperately, that way not only will aro people discover their identity sooner and safe themselves a whole lot of trouble, but allo people can also learn how to react to someone being aro and we can all learn that being aro isn't sad or inhumane or weird or lonely

and because i'm a fancy-schmancy college student (who wrote "collage" instead of "college" first because i can not spell)(and have watched too much criminal minds) i would like to end this with a quote by Mariah Wright Edelman (tho the quotes are the worst part of criminal minds, they are so cringe istg):

“You can’t be what you can’t see”

[desicanary]

Some thoughts after finishing the double that I need to expel from my consciousness:

1. I haven't enjoyed a show so much in a while. It had all the drama, and it didn't sacrifice it for the romance

2. Princess Wanning! She killed her dad and I think that was queen shit. She should have killed more people, frankly. She deserves to do so much murder

3. Shen Yurong how I hate you. This man is not only a murderer and a coward, he's also incompetent. None of his plans have ever worked. Mans couldn't manage to successfully kill his wife even if every god were on his side. I loved every time Xue Fangfei did psychic damage to him simply by existing

4. Xue Fangfei! Xue Li! Jiang Li! Xiao Limao! A'Li! Many other terms of address I've missed! She truly is that girl. She is gaslight gatekeep girl boss. She's a girl's girl. She stabbed a man in the dick 7 times. She has the man who once called her a pawn wrapped around her pinkie. When her man tells her he has to get into a political marriage for the nation she says do it then, and then he has to admit he was never gonna. She inflicted +9999999999999 damage on those who wronged her and Jiang Li. She can't fight to save her life (as evident) but can and will confuse her opponent into tripping over their own nonexistent shoelaces

5. I loved the progression of the relationship between A'Li and Xiao Heng. They weren't immediately lovers or friends. They fully used each other until they were willing to be used. The chemistry, the flirting, it's too much and too good. Also, Xiao Heng serves. See: the fans, the fucking gold plated murder fan, a walk-in closet full of capes, the most dramatic entrances known to cdramas, and all the audacity

6. BUT what were the last 20 minutes! They don't exist to me! My buddies Wen Ji and Lu Ji are watching their boss embarass himself at Duke Su's mansion and sharing in the hot goss, to me

7. Plus, I've gotta be missing something about the Longwu army. I do not understand them at all. Not a single one of them would survive the Nuremberg precedent. Not only are they not guided by ethics and morals, they're also not guided by loyalty or revenge or anger or hate or any understandable motivation. Instead, they're guided by a rock carving of a fish. wut. They find out the dude holding the fish works for the guy who betrayed and killed their general, their comrades, and even some of their family. And their response is: "How could they?!?!?! But we still have to listen to them because they have the fish!" Truly what. Someone explain this all-powerful rock fish to me

8. I do think that the Jiangs deserved more. And by more I mean worse. I think Xue Li should have told Jiang Yuanbai exactly how Jiang Li lived and died, and that she hated him for his negligence. I think she should have told the grandma too. They had their hand in this and they deserve to feel the full weight of Jiang Li's life and death and hatred

9. Also Jiang Yuanbai being like "It's not that I didn't know what was going on at home it's just that I was so busy working for the nation uwu". Sir, disrespectfully, no. You had not a clue. And if you did, that makes it worse. Like "Oh no! I'm so busy working that I have no choice but to let my wife frame my 8 yr old for her own attempted murder! The murder of the same stepmom that she, until yesterday, adored! Oh well, I gotta go to work so I'll just let that happen and abandon her for 10 years until politics makes it necessary for me to bring her home! And I'll feel really bad about abandoning her now, but I'll also never believe a single word out her mouth!" Actually, I think he should be hunted for sport

10. Anyway, that got off track! But I love this show, and how even the antagonists have arcs and backstories and aren't countering our girl just cuz. I love the fleshed out characters, all the looks it serves, the drama, and the adorable Wen Ji and Lu Ji and Jiang Jingrui

[goodluckclove]

Storytime: Holy Shit Going No Contact Was A Really Good Idea, Actually

TW: offhanded mentions for abuse and neglect, general parental bullshit

Okay so people were saying they're down for this so here I go.

A little context for those who don't know: I'm an adult child of pretty severe emotional and psychological abuse, as well as like comical degrees of neglect that I've been making up for over the course of the past year for so. I say "comical" not because it's funny, but because if it was depicted in like a YA novel critics would pan it for being unrealistic. My mom convinced me that doctors don't actually like it when you get checkups and get mad at you for "wasting their time", so I didn't see a doctor for like eight or so years. That's on the low end of how fucked these people are. My parents are both alcoholics and my mom is a diagnosed narcissist (she doesn't know this, but I do because my long-time psychologist was her psychologist first before she decided she was "done with therapy". He told me this after like four years as a part of his attempt to get me to realize I was in a deeply fucked situation, ultimately saving my life in a very literal sense - but that's another story). I'm not saying you can't be both of those things and not be a good person, but I am saying she did not choose to go down that particular path.

I went no contact shortly after I got married to a person who was able to see that my parents were both pretty mean to me most of the time in ways I forced myself to process as humor. They sent like one weird card before we moved and now they don't have my new address or phone number.

Unfortunately I'll still occasionally hear random updates about them - mainly from my older sister, who was the object of my mom's obsessive, manipulative, parent-ifying "love" before she left home at 18 and I became the new Golden Goose. I don't like this. I wish she would stop doing this. I asked her before, but I guess she forgot. Or maybe part of the shell shock from the damage of our childhood is that she just needs to tell someone who would understand in a more primal way than her fiancee. I don't know. She pretty much raised me when I was younger so I guess this is what I'm giving her in return.

A couple of days ago she called me and casually mentioned the latest scrambling my parents are doing. They're moving in with my grandma so she can keep living in the home she raised her family in. They're not kicking out my autistic brother anymore, they're actually bringing him with them. I don't think he has a choice. They're also bringing the family dog they've neglected even worse than they did me, despite how my grandma absolutely insisted she would never want a pet. They're going to turn my kind of run-down childhood home into a rental for extra income. My parents are landlords to be. Cool cool cool.

A lot of this is about money. I have never been comfortable talking about money - probably more so than other people. I never had it explained to me. It wasn't displayed or handled in a way that made sense in my mind. My mom complained and lamented about bills to me all the time but she also had maybe four Prada purses. It didn't make sense.

Something she told me a lot about were the details of my grandmother's will - like, from as young as maybe 16. My grandma is indeterminately wealthy in a way I don't really understand and can barely even guesstimate. She owns her own house, remodeled it, bought my uncle a house, bought my childhood home when my parents almost got kicked out and they paid her the mortgage ever since. She paid for all my siblings (except for me since I dropped out) to go to college. She has an amount of money. I have no idea how much since she's pretty buttoned up - loving, but reserved - which I was told is just a generational thing for some Japanese people. I mean she has the right. She spent like a year or two in a concentration camp as a little girl, she has the fucking right.

But yeah I was told more than a few times that I have a big inheritance for after grandma dies. My mom never told me how much but stressed that it was a lot. I didn't really know why she was telling me this. I actually felt like she shouldn't be telling me this. It made me feel sad and dirty to hear her describe it as something I should be excited for. She also mentioned a lot that I was the only grandchild in the will, and not my three step-siblings that I've known since birth.

Once again - this was NOT something I wanted to know. I had no idea what to do with that information. I tried not to think about it.

Fast forward a couple of years and I'm married and we just bought a house. So before you officially buy a house there's a point where an inspector looks everything over and gives you the details - you know, so you can make an informed decision. The inspection we got for the first house we almost bought informed us that the whole thing was hand-renovated and pretty much fucked to the point where if we bought it we'd have to replace the walls. We didn't buy that house.

The inspector for the second house we loved confirmed it was old. Most of the houses in Portland are old. But it seemed pretty much fine. The only issue was some moss on the roof and a few loose shingles, he said. So we bought it.

Turns out the roof is not good. It's very not good. And we have to replace it before October or else we'll lose our home insurance, and ultimately the home itself. Stressful! I found a pretty knowledgeable roofer and he quotes 14k for the treatment. Add that to the 10k we were already planning on spending on refinancing - a separate financial obstacle course for home owners that Riley was pursuing, since the fiances are their domain - and we were both at a loss as to what to do.

Ultimately I reluctantly decide to see if my grandma would give me part of my inheritance early. Or all of it? I debate how to phrase it for a night. I didnt want to assume how much she was planning on leaving me. I didn't really like to think about how she left specifically me anything in terms of money.

But that didn't end up being an issue! Because when I called my grandma and explained the situation, how we were hit with like three major financial blows back to back and were just hoping to get some aid until things stabilized in a few months, she casually mentioned that I'm actually not in her will. None of the grandkids are!

I immediately stammered out a series of no no nevermind then, but she stopped me and explained how she has a "small emergency fund" for situations like this and asks how much I needed. I say I'm not comfortable with that, but she won't drop the subject. She says the roof is 14k so she'll just give me that. She says 14k won't be a dent in her "small emergency fund". I have absolutely no idea what my grandma's financial situation is.

Did you know if you're given only Goodwill clothes for all of your formative years you're likely to be unable to buy new clothes at even a Target without feeling lost and sick to your stomach? Did you know that if you take Lithium they won't let you sell your blood? Do you know the easiest ways to shoplift food?

I don't think my grandma knows any of that and at this point I don't want to tell her.

I accept the check. I thank her. Riley thanks her. We both cry a lot for a lot of the morning because this is just a lot and it's very confusing. Riley says they've never accepted that amount of money before and would never imagine it coming from a family member. I say my grandma has been doing shit like this for my whole life.

But in the back of my head I'm reeling. I don't consider myself a materialistic person, but I can't help but ask why did my mom lie to me? Why did she lie, and continue to push the lie even when she saw it made me uncomfortable? Why did she bring it up when I'd get mad at my siblings as a way to force me to put aside my feelings?

It's just such a random thing to make up and double down on. Triple down, even. And I understand this whole mess comes from a pretty lucky position - we were able to buy a house and get financial aid to keep the house at a crucial time. That's lucky. We're really lucky. But why the fuck was she keeping up this bit for so long?

She could've never mentioned it and I wouldn't be upset about not being in the will. Frankly I probably wouldn't notice. But holy shit I carried so much stress for years over being the one grandchildren in the will that I had no clue how to navigate. I debated telling my siblings but after all of us were told that we should consider ourselves blood-related, hearing that our own grandmother drew a distinction sounded devastating.

I can't think of a reason why my mom would push a lie this random but so big for so long. It wasn't for me, clearly. I'm not upset that I'm not going to get a fucking jackpot when my grandma dies. I was never really able to wrap my mind around that being a thing. I'm just fucking baffled that my mom was so completely delusional for my whole life and I just followed along for so long.

So long! I was so unbelievably loyal to her despite every attempt she made to drag me into the void. The day before I got married I was telling her over video call that I didn't have a right to be unhappy not working while I recovered from my first major medication shift in years. She said, even though I am the only child of four to pay rent in their own apartment, that I should be grateful for my soon-to-be wife because "without them I'd be homeless".

Fuck that. Fuck that and fuck her. With the stories I have I could ruin my parents in my extended family's eyes forever. The only thing that keeps me from doing that is knowing that it would hurt my Grandma more to know that she wasn't able to step in while it was actually happening. And she's done so much for me and our family that I don't want her to carry that in the end of her life.

It was one lie that really made me realize some things, though. The best thing I ever did for myself was cut contact with my parents. If I didn't cut contact - if I didn't move states - I would almost guaranteed be dead. This is not an exaggeration. It was fucking messy.

But I got out. I have a wife and a few close friends, a roof over my head and some cats darting around my feet. Before we moved I was terrified of my parents showing up at our old apartment. I used to spiral imagining mom screaming outside the door. I tried to plan with Riley what we'd do if that happened. One night I claimed I wanted to take a boxing class "so I can know what it feels like to get really hit and I won't be afraid of it anymore".

I'm not scared now. These are sick people and I've spent more than enough time lamenting how awful my life would be if I continued not noticing that. I was thinking my mom was unable to perceive me as my own person, and now I'm convinced she never saw me or my sister as people at all. We were just little dollies she could whisper all her traumas to.

I hope my sister cuts contact too. I told her about the will thing and said that I'm pretty sure my parents would use that as a way to keep relationships with their remaining children. I said she should probably consider that if she decides to cut ties.

Honestly, I won't blame her if she does that and decides to stay in contact. It's a hard world out there. But I hope she does anyway. She just bought a house too and is about to get married to a man with a family infinitely more loving than ours ever was. I tell her to consider them her family. After the shit she's seen that's the least she deserves.

[l0sercat]

how about how some of the dbd cast would react to stuff you baked? (i like most of the characters, i think that ghostface or meg would be interesting for a couple examples)

(this is for the one writing request thingy ? :D

HELLOOOOO can do!!! Thanks for requesting <333

DBD CHARACTERS REACTION TO YOU BAKING SOMETHING FOR THEM

Ghostface

He was in awe and thought it was cute

Someone actually baked something for him

"Aww thanks sweetheart" he says and kisses you softly on your lips

He would only comment once on it if it tasted bad but otherwise would shower you in complements

He would also be teasing you constantly in a loving way of course

Meg

Blushes and gives you a hug

"Awww thanks hun" squeezes you tighter till you tell her to quit it

She would love whatever you made for her and would share with her grandma (mom?can't remember lore T-T)

She especially loves brownies...*wink wink*

Albert Wesker

"Oh you made something for me? How cute..." He gives a charming smile

He caresses your chin softly and places his thumb on your lips

He takes the chocolate chip cookie you made him and pops it into his mouth and chews slowly to savor the flavor

He gives a small hum and nods "These are wonderful dearheart but I would recommend to let them cook more so they are a bit crunchy"

He takes another cookie and puts it in his mouth and chews a little and then connects his mouth with yours and kisses you to where you both have some cookie

When you guys pull away for air and swallow he licks his lips and smirks

The Trickster

"I'm not surprised you baked something for someone as talented as me"

He's so fucking cocky like that was not a good move, he's so fucking full of it

He's used to being given this kinda stuff

It means a little bit more to him since it's from you...

Don't expect much that just a quick kiss and no knives in your back :)

Steve

"Thanks but why?"

He's flattered and appreciates it but is confused

He will pick you up and hug you and flash you a big smile showing off his pearly white teeth

Will brag to the other survivors (especially Nancy and Jonathan)

"My girlfriend baked me something did yours?" He says in a snarky tone and a shit eating grin

Yui

She swings an arm around your neck and kisses your cheek

"Thank you love" she says as she pulls some hair out of you face

She smiles at you lovingly and takes the cupcake you made her

She takes a bite, icing gets in the tip of her nose

She tries to lick it off but fails so you grab her face gently and lick it off yourself

You pull away and giggle while she's tries to say something

She blushes and looks away and smiles bashfully

Kate

"Aw thank you darlin'"

She pinches your cheek and pulls a bit

She takes a macaroon and eats it slowly, savoring the flavor

She lets out a satisfied moan

"Soo~ good darlin' you need to make more"

She envelopes you into a bear hug with your face smashed between her boobs

Billy

(platonic! I headcannon him as Ace and Aro so everything for him is strictly platonic!!)

*Happy noises*

Someone made something for him?!

How wonderful! He's so happy!!

He had a hard time talking so he will show you how much he appreciates it

Whatever you make he will love

He will give you things too!!

He can't bake or cook but it's okay! He's trying:')

[golbrocklovely]

guys i am genuinely angry at snc right now lol

i need to vent about this bc i feel like i'm the only one not on crazy pills while everyone else is enjoying their time sksksk

snc have a constantly moving chat on xplrclub now. it has caused MULTIPLE issues within the couple weeks it has been up. prime example being that snc had to make RULES, one being NOT TO SEXUALIZE THEM. yes. that happened, within the first 72 hours of the chat being a thing. they had to tell ppl "hey, maybe don't talk about our dicks in a public chat we can see."

and many other things have happened too. some of which i can't even mention on here. and ppl on xplrclub have been asking snc to get mods or do something to help fix things.

and boy oh boy did snc make a choice lol

they made a post asking for fans to apply to become VOLUNTEER MODS. they said that those that get chosen will get perks and merch and shit like that for being a mod.

the amount of annoyance i have rn is astronomical. i literally have a headache from being so annoyed sksks

first and foremost THEY NEED TO HIRE PPL. snc make WAY TOO MUCH MONEY to be asking for volunteers. that's just the reality of the situation. they own two mansions, but are asking for volunteers on an app they CHARGE FOR? you have to be kidding me with that one lol

not to mention, you're asking for ppl to volunteer their free time on an app they are paying for to "make sure it's safe for everyone". yall got me ABSOLUTELY FUCKED UP if you think i'm gonna lose money basically burning my free time away just to mod a chat full of ppl i have blocked on twitter. PAY ME BITCH. life is expensive. how about you volunteer eating this ass lmao

secondly, whoever they end up picking is gonna have a complex. that's inevitable. even if they choose exclusively grandmas that aren't in fandom drama AT ALL, those fans would think "obviously snc love me so much and i am one of their favorites", and that's the best case scenario. reality is they are gonna pick ppl that will BRAG on other platforms and then get big headed bc they will have a direct line to snc. and then on top of that, you are gonna cause fans to feel bad for not getting chosen, or think that snc don't love them. that ALONE should be enough for snc to know "hey maybe we shouldn't do this bc it's gonna cause favoritism in this fandom that already has a MIRADE OF ISSUES".

not only is all of this an issue, but then on top of that fans are asking for MULTIPLE CHATS to exist, one being an 18+ chat. and look, i don't like talking to minors either (even tho i know i have probably gotten asks from quite a few on here over the years). that being said, i ALSO know how to keep things age appropriate when talking to someone that's a kid compared to my big ass age. and that's what chat SHOULD be for. an 18+ chat will just become a gross spot for fans to sexualize snc, or say weird shit and think they can get away with it just bc it's 18+. yall should be able to talk to ppl underage without it getting weird. they only thing yall have in common is liking snc. stick to that topic and it shouldn't go south fast. or you know, DON'T ENGAGE WITH MINORS???? it's that simple too lol

yall know i love snc. but this is the dumbest, greediest, laziest "solution" to a problem they have ever created. i am genuinely so upset at them. not only that, but some of the ppl that have said they already applied to be a mod……………… this is gonna go south so fast it's not funny.

i mean literally one person that applied i have blocked on everything bc she's fucking weird and constantly sexualizes colby and basically begs for him to dick her down, and another one that applied is TRANSPHOBIC. make it make sense yall.

[themagnusbane]

GAP The Series Episode 11 Thoughts

So, did I cancel all my Saturday appointments for the next two weeks, so I can see watch the last few episodes of this beloved series, the minute they drop? Yes. Yes I did. Do I feel guilty about this choice, even a little bit?

And we kick things off directly where we left off. With Sam coming to see her grandmother, wearing those gorgeous pearls in the house that is as cold and empty as her soul! Urgh. Why can't she just accidentally fall down those stairs??? It would be doing us all a favour!!! But no. Sam has to sit there, looking uncomfortable AF whilst dishonourable Grandmother sits there, talking about wedding dates with I-hope-he-soon-becomes-roadkill Kirk! And I am SCREAMING with all the frustration Sam is feeling right now. Urgh!!! This woman stays being the worst!!!!

2. Honestly, I really NEED Sam to at some point, to tell Dishonorable grandmother that since she "likes" Kirk so much, and believes that he is the only one capable of creating a perfect family and life with the woman he chooses to marry, then grandma should marry him herself. Kirk with his ingratiating ass probably won't say "no", and grandma can experience that perfect family and life that she so desperately wants, for herself!

3. Good on Sam!! Ask her the questions. It's so easy for grandma to give orders, and Sam obeys cuz she loves the old witch. But what about the other way round? From what position is Dishonorable grandmother giving all these orders disguised as "advice"?

4. Aaaaaaand of course she's claiming that she does so because she "loves" Sam. Is it really love, when you're not actually listening to what your granddaughter wants? Is it love when you're running roughshod over her wishes and forcing her to a life of unwanted heterosexuality with a backstabbing piece of shit like Kirk? Someone who's already shown very little regard for Sam's wishes, and shown that he's quite capable of going behind her back to arrange a deal with a rival company without telling her because somewhere in that big brain of his that he doesn't use, he thinks that Sam would for some reason be happy to be led by the nose to a decision she didn't ask for, and certainly doesn't want? Is that what love looks like to you Dishonourable liar? What a fucking lie!!!!

5. Of course all she cares about is reputation. Not the happiness of her grandchildren. It's why one left home and never looked back. And while the second one is dead. And now you have dearest Sam, buckling under all the weight and expectations that Dishonorable grandmother has put on her poor shoulders and I really wish I could enter this show and scream at her grandmother on her behalf.

6. Atta girl! Call her out Sam! Call her out for her homophobia and her shitty parenting! Let her see that she's already lost two grandchildren, and she's about to lose a third. Of course, she can always make the decision to adopt Kirk and have him as her grandson. With the way he jumps to her commands like the spineless lapdog he is, he definitely fits all the criteria she wants in a grandchild.

7. And now she's trying to emotionally manipulate Sam into going along with her wishes; which I totally expected, because truly there's no level Dishonourable grandmother wouldn't sink to, to get her wishes. It is clear that she has plotted out a course for her grandchildren's lives, and just one step outside of those coloured lines, has her losing her shit. Which is infuriating. Children do not exist to help you find fulfillment or to live out your dreams for you. They are independent beings, here in this world to have their own experiences, live their lives and chart their own course. Your job as a parent/guardian is to give them the tools and knowledge they need to survive in the world, and then let them go, to go live their lives and make those choices. And all you can do is hope that they make the right ones. All of this just further reiterates how horrible of a parental figure Dishonourable grandmother truly is, and that the only reason her granddaughters turned out to be decent, is because they are by their own nature, good people. Grandmother though... She is absolute trash. Gods I hate this woman so much!!

8. And this is why we push for marriage equality and queer people to be allowed to marry. Because if you live in a country where you do not have that protection, your partner can't legally be allowed to do anything for you. They can't sign forms. They can't make medical decisions on your behalf. They can't do shit. And because of the heteronormative, patriarchal society that a lot of us live in, that power is instead given to relatives who are often homophobic and don't have your best interests at heart. Add to the pain of being the partner who can't do anything for the one you love, because society insists on its bullshit and loves is so attached to the concept of heterosexuality, and they've put that power in the hands of everybody else but you, and FUCK!!! I am screaming in rage and pain because Ice doesn't deserve this. Song doesn't deserve this. We don't deserve this. FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!

9. This fucking bitch. This failed excuse of a parental figure. This absolute waste of fucking space. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???? Your granddaughter is in the ICU, dying!!! There is a consent form that needs YOUR signature so the doctors can operate on her to save her life. But all your brain can think of is to attack her lover? Seriously???? SERIOUSLY??? Trash. Absolute fucking trash. What in the rage-inducing bullshit of a behaviour is this????? Why are you not asking about Song right now??? How is it her fault that your granddaughter was involved in an accident you witch!!! The person who's to blame for the emotional state Song was in, is YOU! You Blame-shifting-energy-sucking-vampire-masquerading as a grandmother bitch!

10. A part of me wonders if Dishonourable grandmother really lacks any form of self-awareness. The fact that even after all this time, she is so quick to remove herself from the role SHE played in Song's death is infuriating to me. The reason why Song is dead isn't because she was gay you failed excuse of a parent! It's because you were toxic as fuck, and in separating from you, the parental figure who was meant to show her unconditional love, but instead wanted neat little dolls whose lives you could dictate, turned on her. YOU are the reason she is dead. Not Ice. Not her being gay. YOU!!!! And I swear, if this show tries to hurt Sam in any way, to get this witch to get her head out of her FUCKING ass to see how much she is killing the one granddaughter she has left, I WILL FUCKING SCREAM!!!!!

11. This emotional manipulation of "everything I do is for you. I've raised you since you were a kid. Won't you do this for me" is taking some many pages out of the abusive parent textbook, and Sam is so vulnerable, I just know she is buying this bullshit and URGH!!! I AM SO PISSED!!!! She's deliberately mixing her false concern with the homophobia to disguise the fact that what she really wants is to control you. Don't fall for it Sam. DO NOT LISTEN TO HER!!!!

12. Fuck! Now she's hiding from Mon. Grandmother's toxin has gotten to her. Fuck!! What's the use of having a spouse who will "protect you" when they can't ensure your joy, or protect your peace? All you will be in that marriage is miserable. You deserve better Sam. You deserve better. My poor baby.

13. Sam really does have the best friends. Look at them in Mon's house, comforting her girl. Mon my darling. There is so much you do not know about Dishonourable grandmother. Your mother has more honour in her little pinky that that witch has in her entire body.

14 But I am thankful to Idol Factory for giving me some TeeYuki fluff to help with the pain. Look at my secondary ship being so sweet. Tee keeps asking Yuki to get her things, to help preserve Sam's privacy so it's only Mon they are revealing all these secrets about Sam's family life to, and I am happy that they are respecting Sam's privacy whilst also giving us hints of TeeYuki's relationship in the same breath. And Yuki sweetheart. I don't blame you. If Tee asks me to go get water for the baby, I'm bringing a full-on tank for her! If she asks me to cut fruits, I'm bringing in the whole fucking orchard. My queen deserves ONLY the best. And she's getting it. Tee. Mommy. Have mercy. Please.

15. Awwwww. Look at our brave Mon, still going back to ring the doorbell. She's like "I will never give up on us Khun Sam", and I LOVE THAT!!!! I love LOVE that from the start of the show, we have established that Mon is quite stubborn, and has never given up even when Sam was being an absolute bitch to her! That tenacity is going to serve you well now Mon. You will need to tap into that and hold on with your bloody fingers, cuz Dishonourable grandmother will try pulling Sam over to on Comphet shenanigans. Resist!! Be the stubborn lovable Mon that we all know. DO NOT GIVE UP ON OUR GIRL!!!

16. Their interlocked fingers!!! Be still my heart!! I know there's a ton of pain coming over the next episode and a half (until we get our happy ending in episode 12), so I'm holding onto this moment of sweetness to tide me over!!!

17. I knew she was going to say she would marry Kirk. Like, we all saw the trailer. We saw her in the wedding dress. We KNEW this was coming. But shit! This still FUCKING HURTS!!! Mon's face is killing me. Looking at the pain. All that pain!!!! Becky's acting in this scene. Her tears. Sam's powerlessness. This scene is breaking my heart. Smashing it into smithereens. My poor babies. Fuuuuuuuuuck. Have I said it enough today? But I really REALLY hate that fucking grandmother. Dishonourable witch!

18. I can't deal with this!!! Like, don't get me wrong. I'm grateful that this is happening in episode 11. Cuz we know we only have to deal with this for one episode and that we will get our happy ending in the next episode. But shit. This hurts. This fucking hurts. My heart!!!

19. And now, they are saying their "i love you's" and having their goodbye sex. And this fucking hurts. This fucking hurts so much. Even down to the doggy pet name. Why does this show want to break me. I can't handle this. I can't handle this. Someone send help. FUck!!!!!!!!!!!

20. Hold up. I think my brain is only just catching up to this. But hold up. Did Mon just agree to be Sam's side-piece? Like Sam is going to marry Kirk, but still be secretly dating Mon? Cuz um... My girl Mon deserves better than to be the other woman. If there should be any othering in this drama, it should be Kirk. And by that I mean he should other himself out of the room, out of the picture, out of the fucking drama. Damn twat!

21. Aaaaaand it's fucking Kirk at the door. Urgh! His face. I really really hate seeing his face. Why do I have to suffer this injustice. Fucking Kirk!!!

22. Self-righteous deceitful prick! You are not sorry that she has to leave the company. Don't come with your bullshit lies. You know that Sam won't give you the time of the day with Mon around, and you're trying everything to keep our two girls apart. I see right through your deceitful little face!!! You can't lie to me.

23. Urgh!!! Will it be other people that will see Mon as a home wrecker, or are you talking about yourself Kirk? Because the person who is wrecking a home filled with love right now, is you!!! And I know, I already mentioned earlier that my girl Mon, deserves better than being a side-piece, but I don't want this shit coming from Kirk. You have no room to talk, or leg to stand on. Fuck you. And fuck off!

24. The soft tones with which Kirk is making this statement and asking that Mon stay away from Sam; him having the audacity to say that if not for Mon, he and Sam would already be married, is grating on my nerves. Keep fucking yourself Kirk. Piece of shit!!!

25. I briefly interrupt our moment of pain to make this very important announcement: Neung is sooooo fine!!! I swear, the amount of face candy that Gap's served us through these many episodes.Add the fact that I have a weakness for older artistic women, who work with their hands and are quite good at their craft and I've been swooning ever since. That smile as she gets for Mon's number????

26. Neung straight out calling Dishonourable grandmother a witch! I knew I loved her for a reason. She has zero fucks to give about that woman, and I desperately need Sam to get to that point before the show ends. But I doubt if this show is going to address that. They're probably going to have Sam reconcile with Dishonourable grandmother at some point, and try and mend the rift between her and Neung. When that happens, y'all can bet, I will be watching my TV, seething at the screen!

27. You go Neung! Call your baby sis and talk some sense into her. Don't let her fall into Dishonourable grandmother's clutches. Give her gorgeous tush the push she needs to walk away from the woman!!!

28. Fuck!!! Mon's packing up all her pink dresses. My heart. This pain!!!! And all the flashbacks!!! Gap!!!!!! Why do you hurt me so???? Why are you breaking me? Do you feed off my pain??? Do my tears make you happy????

29. Aaaaaand she's all packed up and leaving. Sam!! Where are you? Your girl's leaving!!

30. Ha! She made it home. Not like it would help anything though. You're choosing to follow your grandmother and marry Kirk the human trash heap. Mon's going to leave. It will break both your hearts, but you need to choose YOU. Not your grandmother, and her bullshit words and manipulations. You need to choose YOUR happiness. YOUR safety. YOUR Joy. YOUR love. I hope Sam realizes it early enough. I don't want to have to wait till the last 5mins of episode 12 before we get our happy ending. Cuz that shit would hurt!!!!

31. Mon's not saying it, but her eyes are doing that Meredith thing; asking Sam to choose her, and I am in so much pain!!!!

32. I know Sam's saying that she's going to find a solution for them, and fight back. But with Dishonourable grandmother, and human trash heap Kirk, my expectations are low. Cuz I don't think those two will give up without a fight. And Sam's too vulnerable to their bullshit to resist.

33. Ha!!! She's calling the calvary! That's actually a pretty smart move on her part. She knows that she will fold like a wet noodle in front of her grandmother and Kirk. But Neung? Neung will give as good as she gets. And she's spent enough time away from their grandmother to be able to pull it off. But honestly, I hope both Sam and Neung both tell her Dishonourable grandmother the truth, and let her know of the consequences of the bullshit she keeps pulling: that she would end up alone. In that big empty house. With Kirk as company. Which honestly, when you think about it, is exactly what she deserves.

34. Dishonourable grandmother asking if Sam wants her dead

Everyone who is currently watching this show, and especially this episode:

35. And of course she's having heart palpitations. Sam. Don't fall for it. She's trying to manipulate you into doing what she wants. It's all part of her plan. Resist it! Don't fall for her, or human trash heap Kirk's face guilt tripping face! Stand strong!!!

36. Thank God! Neung is here!!! Help Sam resist. Don't let her fall for the bullshit that Dishonourable grandmother is saying. Come save your sister. Hurry!!! She's starting to fall for the tears and bullshit.

37. And look at that entrance!!! YESSSSSSS NEUNG!!! CALL HER OUT!!! CALL HER OUT ON THE BULLSHIT!!!!!

38. Also, anyone else noticed how Dishonourable grandmother suddenly got all "better" and wasn't looking as weak or frail the minute Neung walked in, and called out her ass???? Fucking lying bitch!!! Keep calling her out Neung. Be the voice for the audience!!!!

39. Sam girl. Neung is trying to help you. Her words might be harsh, but she's saying the truth. Your grandmother is trying to take advantage of your soft heart and love for her. Listen to your sister!!!

40. The verbal lashing!!! The verbal lashing that Neung is giving Dishonourable grandmother is EVERYTHING I WANTED!!! EVERYTHING!!! Oh my God!!! I didn't think this show was going to question to what extent filial piety turns into abuse, and how our elders can in turn wield it as a tool to have us cater to their selfish whims. Neung my heart. Keep going. EVISCERATE HER!!! SPEAK ALL THAT TRUTH!!! Break that house of cards, made of emotional manipulation that Dishonorable grandmother has built. Have it come crashing down!! Some truths are hard to swallow, but please shove them down her selfish throat!!!

41. I love that Neung is the catalyst. The turning point that Sam needs to make her decision. She's the one that walked away, stay away, and thrived on her own terms. Song didn't get that chance because she was killed just before she could. But Neung, who represents what it means to walk away from the wealth, and privilege and prestige that their grandmother holds, being on one side of the divide, and her grandmother being on the other side, is such a nice contrast. And of course, grandmother is trying to hold Sam back by stating that she would cut her off. But let's be honest. What exactly would Sam be losing if she does that? Sam's built her own business outside of her grandmother, so it's not like she needs the woman's money. The one thing that her grandmother can offer her is the love of an older relative, which she wasn't giving her anyway. Sam, honey. Walk away. WALK AWAY!!!

42. You can hear the pain in Neung's voice. She's so desperate to save Sam; to get her to walk away from their grandmother. I think a part of that is rooted in the guilt she feels. That she left her siblings with her, and Song died, whilst Sam became this girl, so terrified to grasp her happiness with her two hands if it would displease their grandmother. She so wants Sam to choose herself. To choose her own happiness, and love. And I am rooting for all three of them (Sam, Mon and Neung). I'm hoping that Sam makes the right choice. But with how deep grandmother's sunk her talons into my girl, I doubt if she would break free this episode. But still, I can't stop hoping because fuck! THIS EPISODE IS PAIN!!!!!

43. OMG!!! OMG!!! OMG!!!! She did it!! She actually walked away from Dishonourable grandmother and chose her own happiness, and love with Mon? OMG!!! OMG!!! Sam!!! My girl. My brilliant, brilliant girl. She did it! She did it!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!

44. Neung is so proud. I'm so proud. She did it!!! Our baby girl did it!!!! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!

Aaaaaaaaand I just saw the preview for episode 12. What. The. FUCK?!!!!!!!!!

[aswho1estuff]

I'm the baddest series

Series overview: An early 2000s rapper gets involved with a business man that's notorious on the street too.

Ep 2. "A boot?"

Ep 2. Overview: Trina and Antonio meet for the 2nd time

Masterlist

"Hey babe why your car got a big shoe on? I tried to call the tow truck but they acting kinda scared, you think it's them people?" "whatcha you mean my car got a boot how he find it?, we bouta go find him put yo shoes on" I tell Britney reaching for my purse "alright call me when you pull up" she responds ending the call.

_________

"you wanna pick up yo jewelry while we right here, help you not pull a joker on this man" Britney says trying to lighten the mood "I'd laugh but I don't know that joke hoe" I say flatly "he slams his eye into a pencil on the table" she explains back just as flat making me laugh "you dumbass, thanks for the idea".

"Your staff came and paid for your diamonds in full, did you not get a message?" The owner asks me starting to panic. "Ohh I did don't worry, they sent one earlier this morning so I'll see them thank you" I respond, a boot straight to my shit was the message. "They left a card with me" the owner hands me it "thanks, and next time don't give em nothing call me cause they ain't do they job right".

you got something I want and you know I've got yours, come see me - Antonio

(XXX)XXX-XXXX

6737 Cesar Ave

______

Getting in the elevator with Britney I push the top floor. "What's the game plan?" Britney asks "cuss him out" I respond obviously. Britney giggles "period, alright" she tells me holding the elevator.

Walking to the receptionist desk "hello....hello...Hello?" I repeat raising my voice every time I know she ignoring me. Walking towards the two main doors she runs to stand infont of me "you can't do that" she's rushes out "ain't seem like you was gone help us so" I'm already irritated.

"I'm Trina" I say motioning to her lil clip board. "Don't I know you from somewhere.." where you going with this girl "...oh right Little Miss rapper-" that's where the hoe was going "-Little Miss Im worth more than your house, and I'm finna be little miss fuck you up if you don't move".

"I was wondering why there was so much commotion out here, you must be Trina" his friend from before says walking in "how you - nevermind can I talk to him" I ask someone who seems more incharge than her.

"of course, he's been waiting on you" he opens the door for me and as it close I hear a faint "and you must be Britney, beautiful" attacks from all sides is all I can think.

_______

why my car got a boot?" I ask furious " Just want my car" he looks up from his computer motioning to a seat but I remain standing "you need to wanna focus that energy on yo little girlfriend give her some boots so she stop rocking them shoes my grandma don't even wear those" he laughs "who are you talking about?, I don't have a girlfriend" "who got the ugliest shoes on this floor" I montion towards the door.

"you jealous?" He says smiling, pissing me off more "man I don't even know you" I say sitting down now tired from all the run around I'm getting. "Do you want to?" You thought you was smooth "fix my boot" I respond flatly. "Listen pretty girl I need the car" "for what" " look it's my mama car and.. she has some thing in there for me but I gotta tear the car apart" ...."just have it, here damn" I fish the key out my purse.

________

"I've got things to do call my people and send my jewelry off, okay" "what?" "What" "what you got planned?" "Damn you in my business, nail appointment" I respond flashing my nails.

"I'll join" "don't talk to me about no damn car when we get in here I'm already stressed" " likewise so nothing about that jewelry" "oh you think you cute huh?"

_______

"Since yo friend stole Britney which ones do you think I should get?" I ask breaking the silence showing him the pictures "Think the pink ones look good on you" good choice. "What are you gonna get?" I ask out of habit "Just a clean up really" "predictable" I respond without thinking "think you cute, yeah?" Oh wow "Why you stealing my shit?".

_______

"what's this about a nail appointment I hear?" Tony asks "grow up tony" laughing I hang my jacket up. "She's a pretty lady, so is her friend" tony adds on and he isn't wrong Trina's alluring one of the reasons I didn't do business with her like other 'clients'.

<- ep 1. ep 3. ->

[bloodnikki]

Ophelia making a deal with Adam to protect her town from harm. Adam agreeing so long as she agrees to have dinner with him once every two years. It’s a very awkward dinner. He’s talking about how awesome he is and she’s just wondering when she can go home.

Some people think it’s a date and she has to tell them “no, he’s my grandpa.”

“I just look super good for my age.” He flirts with everyone and she hates it all.

When he dies, she goes out to dinner alone. She can’t say she misses him but it feels weird he’s gone. He was still her grandfather and he did try. She wonders how’d he react to her dating the devil. “Here’s to you grandpa. May you finally find peace.”

“Fuck that shit!” He rolls his shoulders. “Do you know how many places I had to check out to find you? And what are you doing at that shitty hotel?”

“Holy shit! You’re alive!”

“Ugh, I would’ve come sooner but I saw you at that fucking hotel and your dad was around. Fuck that guy.”

“You mean your son?”

“Anyway, how’ve you been bitch?”

“I… I… I think I need to call someone. Heaven mourned you ass.”

“Yea, best let them keep going. I don’t want them to see me like this.” Adam frowns over his demon form. "Please, I don't want Eve to be proven right. She thinks so low of me."

"Grandma is going to kill you for being alive!"

"That's why I need to stay dead until I get back to Heaven where I'll change my name, hair and look so that she'll never know a thing."

"That's stupid. No one is going to fall for that but Raphael because he's just that dumb."

"You need to have more faith." Adam shook his head. "You really don't know how to trust people. I've failed you as a grandfather." Ophelia can't believe she has to deal with this. She wishes he was still dead.

[princessconsuela120]

❃ FEZCO ❃

Chapter twenty-three: This Side of Paradise—❃

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: foul language, everything with teotfw and with euphoria

Authors note: Enjoy guys! All rights reserved to the show the end of the f*cking world.

—❃

Normally, alyssa always kissed me first.

“Are you okay?” I asked, pulling away from the kiss as she sighed. I could tell she was somewhere else.

“Can we wait?” She asked, her voice full of worry as she spoke to me.

“Just for a bit, like, I don't know, for a few days, is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course.

I think it is okay. We've got, like, our whole lives. Plus, she might feel like it tomorrow.

“What?”

“Nothing. I can't believe I've got a brother. I've probably got, like, loads of them. All over the place. I know he's traveled. I've probably got family in Vietnam or some shit. I think I hate my dad more than I hate my mum.” She explained, making me nod.

“Me, too. I hate both of mine, but definitely hate my dad more.” 

It was true, I hated both my parents for leaving. I grew up when I was a kid, it wasn’t fair. My dad was a gangster, a bad one too. I never saw either of them ever again. Atleast my mom had the curtesy to leave me.

“Why?”

“'Cause she died and he didn't.” 

“What was she like?”

“I don’t know, I never met her. I lived with my grandma since I was a kid. She left when I was really young, so did my dad.” Alyssa sighed, smiling at me as she grabbed my hand. We sat next to each other on the beach, staring out at the water as she leaned her head against my shoulder.

“Fez?” She said softly, god I loved when she said my name.

“Yeah?”

“It wasn't your fault.” She reassured, squeezinng my hand with a smile. I smiled back, leaning my head against her with a sigh, a relieving one that seemed to let out all the stress I had been holding all my life. Somehow hearing her say that just made everything really simple. Like I knew I was gonna be okay because I had her. It's like we're at the edge of the world. Like we're safe. Only... we're not.

“We can't stay here.” She called out, seeming to think exactly what I did.

“Nope.”

“We can't go home.”

“No.”

“We should go away. Properly away. Like, somewhere foreign.”

Anywhere sounded perfect with Alyssa.

“Yeah.”

“Somewhere else completely new and start again.” She explained, pulling away from my embrace with an eager look.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to do that, too?” She asked, making me nod.

“Yes.” I really did want that. “Shit ma id follow you anywhere.” She smiled at me and I smiled back. “We could take your dad's boat. We just need the keys.” 

It's much easier to think someone's the answer if you haven't seen them for years. Because they're not really real. People can't be answers. They're just more questions. Questions like: "Why are you such a fucking useless dad?" I could tell Alyssa was regretting coming here. I could tell that by the way she chucked beer cans at her dads sleeping body.

“Ah, fuck! Ah, Alyssa! Ah! You came back! Oh, thank God. I was worried about you.” Alyssa raised an eyebrow at him as he ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I was. I went looking for you everywhere.”

“No, you didn't. You ran over a dog, killed it, then fucked off and left me.” She hissed, making him sigh.

“Yeah, but after that. After all that. Wait, I killed the dog? Fucking hell!” Then he laughed, he fucking laughed. I was about 10 words away from kicking this man’s ass.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I was shit-faced. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm laughing because it's bad, you know? I'm–“

“Can we go out on the boat?” Alyssa asked, catching her dad off guard.

“What?

“Your boat. Me and Fezco want to go out on it.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. Now.”

“Okay. Fine. Give me, like, ten minutes. I need a shit and a Berocca.

“You don't have to come with us.

“What do you mean?

“Just mean, it's cool, we'll manage. Fez is a good driver. We'll have it back by lunchtime.” 

That’s where we knew we were fucked, because instead of handing us the keys, he just chuckled. It made my skin crawl.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I'm having a lot of thoughts of family and family values with the death of Sean's grandmother. Sean's family is conservative. At his grandma's funeral, I went to the bathroom in the church his grandmother had been a member of for 52 years, and in the stalls, there were brochures about how you can be forgiven for an abortion.

And here's the thing: Fuck that. Fuck that entirely. I find that gross and awful.

But here's the other thing: Sean's family has never presented me any version of themselves that would be part of a church that wouldn't do that.

Do I think they're wrong? Yes. Am I going to bring it up? No. Because the only family member I need to understand my position on something like abortion is the guy I married. We were the only two who had to make that decision should we need to make it, and we've been in agreement since we started fucking.

Meanwhile, my mother claims she signed up for the Republican party in the county because it was the only way to get elected. Which. Yes. I agree.

But also. She is now a lame duck candidate. She has no plans to run for another term. But she still fully participates in the Republican party activities in the county, but most notably, the Republican WOMEN events.

Sean's mom and I had an early head butt when she said she was anti-abortion, and I said I was pro-choice. It was awkward, but we agreed to disagree and have never discussed it again. She has literally never brought it up again, and so I have never brought it up again. She is showing me, through not talking about it, that she is respecting that we wildly disagree and will never agree, and she is not trying to light a match under my feet.

Meanwhile, my mother painted her participation in the Republican party like a means to an end, yet continues to support with her time and effort, which tells a very different story.

When Sean was a teenager, his parents taught him that abortion was wrong, and that if he got someone pregnant, they expected him to take responsibility and care for the child.

When I was a teenager, my mother looked me in the eye and said, "I am pro-choice, but if you're old enough to get pregnant, you're old enough to take care of it."

And when I tell you that was a fucked up view of the world, I can't emphasize it enough. Sean got a very clear rule (don't fuck). I got a very mixed message (abortion is fine unless it's you).

I don't agree with his family on a lot of things, and none of them have ever gotten my pronouns right, but my own parents have claimed they never had expectations for me (hah!), and the pile of bullshit is so high I'm surprised they can see over it.

Do I wish my in-laws matched me more politically? Do I wish they didn't mutter shit about queer people and undocumented workers? Yes. But it's a passing conversation amongst many hours of positive experience vs. my own parents' bringing up drag queens and intentionally saying "HE" when I literally did not say anything about drag queens because I didn't want shit to start, and they swear they're not starting shit, and yet. They know I'm queer as fuck. Same as Sean's mom, in fact. She flatly ignores it, and I don't like that, but I prefer it over my parents claiming they love me as I am and clearly ignoring every chance to prove it through a slight change to their vocabulary.

"Gayle, why do you put up with any of it??"

Because someone can love you and want you happy while not having their shit together about the whole of you. Sean's mom has no idea of his queerness, and he's comfortable with that. He gives zero shits. And so do I, frankly. His mother loves us and wants us to be happy and successful, and I would LOVE if it meant accepting us being queer, but that's not going to happen. Fine. Fuck it. We can all watch movies together and make each other laugh.

My parents, on the other side, think they are beyond that. They don't have expectations, they think. They only want us to be happy. But they have never gotten my pronouns or vocabulary (child vs. daughter for example) correct even though I wrote them a detailed email explaining it all. They're full of shit. They have expectations, one of them being that I am female.

Someone asked me recently, "Why do you still talk to your parents if they so obviously hate you?" And I answered it, and I think my answer now stays the same: I am careful about how much I give them and how much I expect of them. I am aware of how they fail me, but being aware makes it easier to decide how much I tell them.

Do my parents hate me? They don't think so. That's the best answer I have.

Does my MIL hate me? No. She knows what my pronouns are and has never used them, but also, I didn't expect her to. I told her to give her a chance to try something new, and she refused. But frankly, my enby shit does not affect her in any way that matters. I would LOVE to hear her call me 'they'. But I have plenty of people who WILL use my pronouns without pause, and I'd rather focus on the ways my MIL does do her best for Sean and I.

The way I handle it isn't for everyone, but I also think it's important to think about because family shit is fucky, and people assume "just cut them off!" is an easy answer when it really isn't.

I have found a level of acceptance with my parents shittery, and I have found a comfortable acceptance in what my MIL and Sean's other family just won't accept, and I'm comfortable. I'm happy. I am glad when Sean's family went through the death of the matriarch, I was there to support and show true affection because they've shown the same to me.

It's not simple or perfect, but it's family, and I'm grateful to have them imperfect as they are.

[moobloom-mention]

Heart-To-Heart (What Heart?)

BINGO Post

It's said you can feel your soulmate's heartbeat. In the quietest of moments, when you're completely alone, during your darkest times.

Char A wants to believe there's someone out there for them. That there is a light at the very end of the tunnel.

If there isn't...then what really is the point?

OR

Tommy's not that butt-hurt he doesn't have a soulmate. After all, who needs the comforting knowledge that there's someone out there meant for him? That someone will always wish that he survives the next encounter with the Syndicate?

Pfft, big men don’t, that's for sure.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Violence. Near-death experiences.

Word Count: 5704

----------

"What does it mean to have a soulmate?"

It was a question that'd always been flung around the city of Manberg, closely followed by entourages of cameras and influencers subjecting the public to their latest attempts at becoming famous.

"Work" - April 14th, 5056

"It's coming home after a long day of work," one person had grinned, a fond expression on their face. "And being able to tell the moment your soulmate knows you're home, their heartbeat getting faster and faster until you open the door to their smiling face."

"Cute Comparisons" - April 9th, 2057 

"To be an animal who's too young to see anything," another confessed, abashed they'd yet to meet their soulmate. "You can't see them, but the drum of their heartbeat is enough to know they're still there, just waiting for the moment you can finally open your eyes."

But to Tommy? To Tommy, it was all bullshit.

Even still he's shocked how much the public swoons over each response, eager to judge whether someone's response was too dull or far too poetic to be original. He'd lost faith in humanity the moment he noticed the uptick in influencers bothering the elderly, hopeful for a story about a soulmate they'd outlived.

Sorrowful speeches paid the bills- the sheer amount of views proved that -even at the expense of morality.

The only interaction that seemed to perform better than tearful grandmas were the "Bitter Ones": people who were heartbroken, pissed, and milked endlessly by the media for clickbait titles.

"Influencer Assaulted by a Bitter One!" - June 17th, 2058

The video opened on a two-minute chase sequence between some prick of an interviewer and a well-dressed man. Even the editor's choice to blur the man's face didn't stop the sheer amount of hatred radiating off the man's expression, waving the young girl off in spite of her never-ending, "Sir! Excuse me, sir!"

It was almost disappointing when the interviewer got what she wanted, the man whipping around to furiously shout at her.

"Could you fucking stop? Some people don't want to talk about how, 'Oh, my soulmate? Mine was a piece of shit that cheated on me with my own best friend-'!"

What wasn't disappointing was the girl being shoved aside as the cameras faded to black.

It'd been a well-deserved response if Tommy had anything to say about it.

Just about anyone would grow pissed over being harassed, let alone being demanded to broadcast their pitiful story to the world. The icing on the cake, however, was the implication that the poor bloke could still hear the heartbeat of his cheating soulmate.

Shit like that was just another reason as to why everyone had grown to favor platonic soulmates in place of romantic ones. It was easier to venture through life's bipolar mess with a best mate versus a partner you felt obligated to marry.

At least, that'd been the opinion of one of Dream's shitty magazines.

"Prime's Attempts at Arranging Marriages is Soooooo Last Decade..."

Tommy had just barely poked his head into his mentor's office when he noticed the headline, eyes wide as he found Dream at his desk and engrossed by an article some poor writer had probably killed to get a spot on the front page.

The scene was more interesting than awkward, especially considering Dream's original hesitance over divulging in anything soulmate-related. Tommy had practically had to strangle the name "George" from Dream's throat when he'd first started his apprenticeship at the Tower.

Shame Dream's attempts at secrecy failed the moment Tommy knew their Number-One-Hero's guilty pleasure was cheesy gossip meant for preteens.

"Trouble in paradise?"

The room had burst into chaos, Dream flinging the magazine into an adjacent wall as mindless paperwork made its home back in the man's hands. If the magazine hadn't practically framed itself on the wall, Tommy would've assumed he imagined the whole ordeal.

"Y'know, usually we get offices only for shit like paperwork."

It'd been hilarious to watch Manberg's Number-One-Hero burrow his face into his desk with a muffled plea of, "Don't tell Schlatt."

It wasn't like Dream would get fired over a little bit of soulmate talk, but the fear was well-deserved considering the Tower's manager would never let Dream live it down.

"I dunno, Big D. He'd give me an office for finding out about this one."

Dream's head lifted, faux hurt in his expression. "Tommy, c'mon-"

"An office, Big-Man."

Dream's eyebrows pinched.

"I can't fucking believe this- done."

Tommy grinned.

"Aaaaand an invite to you and Gogy's wedding?"

"We're not having a- y'know what. Fine. But this-"

The magazine flopped uselessly to the ground.

"-this never happened."

"I don't even know what you're talking about," he agreed with ease.

Life wasn't quite the same following the "Magazine Incident Circa 2060". Yeah, life would never be the same after getting his own office, but something changed in the way Dream progressed their trust in one another, training sessions interrupted by Tommy's curiosity over George and Dream's sudden willingness to let details about his soulmate slip.

Trust had already become mandatory when Tommy first became Dream's apprentice- it demanded they their life in one another's hands amidst combat for fucks sake- but this crawled beneath the surface of contractual agreements.

Dream had once coined it as "friendship", a thought which instantly earned the hero teasing remarks over how George would be jealous.

There'd only been a handful of times Dream had tried to dip into the subject of Tommy's own soulmate, attempts that'd been dismissed with a shrug of "I haven't met 'em yet."

Not everyone was lucky enough to meet their soulmate in second grade, Dream.

It wasn't long before even other heroes amidst the Towers warmed up to the idea of discussing their soulmates. Even in spite of Schlatt's decade-long policy prohibiting it, it seemed the strict dickhead grew to agree that passing comments and stories were more beneficial in trust-building amidst coworkers.

"Long as media shit-heads don't find out, it's fine."

It was an easy catch.

Not so easy for Fundy, apparently.

The hero had barely been around for a couple months before he took his first interview, selecting TMZ of all fucking media outlets. Sure, the network did well to spark publicity for new heroes, but if Tommy noticed anything about the redhead amidst their first battles with one another, it's that the man can't see a trap to save his life.

"Soulmates in the Tower?" - August 8th, 2060

"Well," the interviewer had begun, quick to soothe her previous bout of laughter. "I'm sure you've heard the trends going about in regards to soulmates."

To give credit where it was due, Fundy did hesitate before shaking his head. "Ah, no. Soulmate business has never been a strong suit."

The woman's smile twisted into that of a shark's as she leaned forward. "You must have at least some input when it comes to the big question on the streets. 'What does it mean to have a soulmate'?"

There'd been a beat of silence, one that'd originally elicited hope that Fundy hadn't fucked up and instead cut the interview there and then.

But there's a reason the holler of reporters had changed from, "Hey, Karma! Karma! How'd you manage to evade the Angel of Death?" to irritating parrots of "-soulmate? How do you feel about them? Surely the Big-Man himself wants to speak about his soulmate-"

"To finally feel complete," Fundy replied lamely. "To rush into battle with your heart racing, and feeling the pound of theirs following."

Tommy's phone slipped back into his pocket.

(It didn't matter how much his mind screamed to correct such a careless response. To mutter, you feel cared for, dickhead. You know that every time you put yourself in danger, you know damn-well your soulmate's praying for your safe return.)

Prime knows how the fuck Fundy only received a slap on the wrist for his stunt. Schlatt's screams following the interview still haunt his nightmares, with words over how Fundy barely managed to follow the bare minimum of his contract.

Apparently, the policy was meant to stop identifiable details from coming into light, and considering Fundy's lame-ass response had been, well, lame, the hero kept his job after acknowledging the severity of the situation.

Even the careless mention of blonde hair could've put citizens matching the vague description under the surveillance of villains. Killing a hero's soulmate was a one-way ticket to solving a life-long rivalry, a chance that as Tommy mulled over it, explained Dream's original concern for discussing George.

There isn't room for trusting the wrong person when a single soulmate is all someone gets, especially when said someone has an iconic rivalry with the Blade himself.

He definitely didn't preen after putting together that thought, every mindless reciting of George's antics now found to be another support beam added to their undefeated bridge of trust. The bridge's completion arrived only six months following Fundy's fuck-up, when Dream hesitantly invited Tommy out to dinner with him and George.

"Gogy finally get tired of hearing all about me? Don't worry, king; I'll even get my suit dry-cleaned."

First impressions considered: George was an odd fellow. Short, blunt, and- in spite of the very nice restaurant Dream had selected -dressed in pajamas. Tommy can still recall the moment he noticed Dream's limo pull up, the hero stepping out in a suit and dark green tie whilst George stumbled about in a grey t-shirt and plaid-blue sweatpants.

With the apologetic expression on Dream's face, Tommy could imagine this was less of a prank and more-so a typical outing for the duo.

It'd been admittedly odd to be seated in front of Manberg's Number-One-Hero and his soulmate. He tried not to compare himself to nosy influencers the whole night, even in spite of how the answer to the media's, "What does it mean to have a soulmate?" sat mere feet away, etched into reality.

It was written in the way they offered fleeting glances toward one another amidst conversation. How they sat there, endeared by one another's attire as they dined beneath diamond chandeliers. How they laughed and snorted at jokes undeserving of being found humorous, amused only because the other had uttered it.

When the night eventually came to an end, Tommy found himself trapped with an odd pit in his stomach that definitely wasn't jealousy.

If it was jealousy, then why would Tommy go the lengths to torture himself and ask for more stories about George's antics? Why would Dream then fall into a habit of talking about his soulmate unprompted whenever patrol nights got a touch too quiet.

"It's funny," Dream had commented one night, kind enough not to mention the way Tommy's eyes lit up. "How good his poker-face is. His heartbeat will grow erratic, even though his expression never betrays anything-"

Still, Tommy elbowed the hero aside with a groan. "I don't want to hear about your make-out sessions, prick."

"You know it's not like that," Dream laughed. "Besides, you'll have to put up with it 'til you get the balls to talk about yours."

Damn, a rare L for Big D.

Tommy scrambled to dismiss the sudden tension. It was all in vein, attempts vanishing the moment Dream noticed it.

"You don't have to," he back-peddled, almost frantically. "This was never an info-for-info arrangement, I'm more than happy to just talk about George-"

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't considered the offer.

Dream had opened a door that night, one demanding payment of complete vulnerability should Tommy walk through it. He'd have to share the only thing the blonde could truly claim as his secret to own- something that Dream had been openly sharing for over a year at the time.

It was...enticing.

Tommy's mother tongue might be that of a sailor, but there'd always existed an undesirable itch to spout metaphors like Dream did about George. He is, in spite of Dream's shock, a poet at heart. It was his pride that prohibited the publishing of his thoughts.

Well, his pride and the fact he was nothing if not the spitting image of stubbornness. The moment he'd soul his soul on a lie was the moment he refused to depart from it.

"Fuckin' rude," he huffed. "Maybe Schlatt should hear of that magazine incident-"

The topic was dropped in favor of teasing laughter, and Dream never learned that Tommy had spent the following morning pacing his apartment with a question in mind.

What does it mean to have a soulmate?

To influencers, it was to milk them for all their worth, to regard them as winning lottery tickets and divulge in profit.

To Fundy, it was to matter, to seek comfort and validation in his life meaning something in the eyes of another.

To Dream, it was to hold them in the space between his heart and lungs, to immortalize them in the minds of others through childish stories.

And to Tommy-

To Tommy it wasn't just bullshit.

It was to sit on his shitty excuse for a couch, to strangle a notebook and pencil within his hand.

(To etch amidst blurring blue lines:

It is to ask a mentor about theirs,

And for a moment, pretend you have the same.)

It'd been easy to smother the notebook beneath shopping lists and nervous chants of "Just kidding, just kidding-" as though it were someone else he were attempting to convince instead of the lonesome thud of his own heartbeat.

It never mattered how how many times the mantra filled Tommy's empty apartment. He'd always been destined to retire beneath the covers of his bed, an old pair of white headphones glued to his ears as though they could heal the song of mourning that'd torn his heart to shreds.

And they could, ever-so-eager to echo the soft, rhythmic thump of a looped heartbeat not meant for him to listen to.

A part of him hopes the original owner of the audio has long been put to rest, unable to handle the guilt that he'd intruded on two soulmate's heartbeats for the sake of curing his loneliness.

It's pathetic.

But being pathetic wasn't as lame considering how much easier the routine made going about his day without a second heartbeat to contrast with his own.

It was a tiny secret he'd kept hidden beneath the covers of his bed, harmless and easy enough to contain within the walls of the apartment.

But of course, Prime loved fuck-all if not ruining a good system.

Hero work had always been dangerous- hell, he had his own set of previously broken bones to prove it.

Having a brush with Death was bound to happen sooner or later.

Dream and him had been roaming about when a report came in, spouting of how two members of the Syndicate- Manberg's most effective group of organized villainy -were stalking the streets. It hadn't raised too many red flags; with so many members amidst the Syndicate's ranks, hearing only two of them running errands wasn't unheard of.

Especially when the two were Phantom and Blade, names that'd proven they could defend themselves quite well.

It was dumb-luck alone Tommy eventually managed to successfully pin Phantom in place whilst Dream was distracting Blade, his arm pressed against the villain's throat as he attempted to wrestle Phantom's freezing cold hands into a pair of power dampeners.

He'd nearly jolted over the sudden realization he couldn't feel a pulse against his arm, Phantom still very much alive and struggling in spite of the revelation.

"No heartbeat? That's creepy as fuck," Tommy muttered, as though he wasn't panicking feeling Phantom's hands warm in his grasp. He really didn't need the villain dematerializing right as he was this close to success.

"Don't tell me you heroes hold grudges against dead people," Phantom grinned. As if he wasn't about to be sent to Pandora's vault for a CVS receipt of crimes.

"Prime do I have bad news for you, king-"

There'd been the soft sound of scrapping metal before he found himself stumbling onto concrete, Phantom long forgotten as his fingers instinctively grasped the metal feather that'd embedded itself in his chest.

Somewhere to his left Phantom scrambled upright.

Even nowadays he can't grasp together a cohesive description of the events that followed, only recalling how quiet the atmosphere had grown. Phantom and the Angel of Death had to of been talking, right? Shouting if what little of what Tommy could see explained.

But there'd only been the deafening crash of silence, interrupted only by the head-ache inducing pound of his heart.

Suddenly, Fundy's fondness over the racing of his soulmate's heartbeat made sense. Dying alone was terrifying.

He learned two things that day:

The Angel was not a force to fuck with, and maybe therapy was a good thing to invest in.

Tommy would've been back on the battlefield the moment the hospital discharged him if it wasn't for Dream. The man had been relentless, convincing Schlatt to force Tommy on two weeks of paid leave.

Day 18 of being out of commission and Tommy found himself walking through the Tower's lobby, white headphones secured to his ears.

Only Dream questioned it, convinced it was a joke.

"You're not actually taking them into the field, are you?" the man had asked, frowning over Tommy's shockingly serious expression. "Tommy, you just got back from dying. You seriously expect me to let you go out there with these things?"

"Mhm."

A sigh.

"Can you at least let Sam downsize them-?"

"Nope."

Tommy loved nothing if not giving Dream a heart-attack.

"How the hell are you going to hear our call-outs then?"

He shrugged. "I will."

And Tommy had done well with that promise.

Unlike Dream's suspicion that he was blasting music amidst life-threatening confrontations, the soft echo of a heartbeat never did much to phase out barked commands and shouts for backup.

"Tommy- for fuck's sake!"

Said hero can't help but wince as Dream suddenly flies down the street, the man just barely catching himself before his face can greet pavement.

Tommy jerks back, confusion echoing within his brain when a fist doesn't appear to knock him back a few feet as well. Blade and Dream's rivalry might be iconic, but Tommy would be an idiot if he wasn't at least slightly aware how quickly he could become Blade's newest target.

He's only a little wounded that Blade pays him no mind, the villain following Dream's footsteps to land unwavering blow after blow. Tommy's shoulders sag with relief, a grin on his face even as he watches Dream's desperate attempts to avoid getting knocked out.

There'll be a riot if they're both not awarded raises following this shit-show. He'd like to see Schlatt try and fight the Syndicate himself.

"What was that? Sorry, can't hear you over my headphones!"

Despite his words, Tommy finds himself naturally falling into a defensive stance, a knife primed in his hand as he tracks Blade's movements with caution. It's almost comical how much he feels like a dog, prepared to lung into action the moment Dream deems it necessary.

What's even funnier is the fact that this has to be the eighth time they've doomed 180th Street to Syndicate shenanigans.

"Well, isn't that a pity?"

His knife slices through the air at an instant, eyes searching valiantly for the source of the new voice.

The tone hit all the wrong notes- playful, yet screaming of imminent danger.

He'll die before he lets Phantom of all people get an easy hit.

As much as he wants to call the ghost a massive bitch for hiding in plain sight, his mouth feels like cotton, mind far too focused on the steady rise of his heartbeat.

Thump-thump-thump-thumpthump-

A scoff erupts by his ear once more.

Tommy nearly shouts at the asshole who'd managed to sneak up on him again, forcing down the terror that'd begun to creep into his veins.

Panic was never a good mix when trying to locate an essential ghost.

Fuck Prime for giving a villain such an overpowered ability. "Recall" might not be among the worst powers to have, but even Dream's manipulation over gravity is nothing in comparison to walking through fucking walls.

"I thought you would've loved to hear Dream nearly get a face-full of pavement."

Well now that you mention it-

Tommy's joints lock as the distinct of metal on metal returns, a sound that'd only just begun to disappear from his nightmares.

Phantom's sudden lack of continuous banter only confirms his suspicions that this isn't just a typical Blade and Phantom scenario.

The teenager ducks just in time for a handful of metal feathers to imbed themselves into the alleyway wall instead of his back, breath hitching at the sight of the Angel of Death staring down at him in amusement.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump-

"Th-That's hardly fair, you fuckin' prick!"

He feels drunk on the adrenaline rush that flows through him, his knife thrown toward the son of a bitch with practiced ease.

There's disappointment in the way his weapon never finds a home, effortlessly batted away and making a near-perfect arch back into Tommy's hand as his power wills it to return.

It's fantastic that he has his weapon back.

Terrible that it'd came whizzing toward his heart point-first.

Shadows loom as Angel's metal wings extend, creating a barricade between them and Dream's ongoing struggle.

Ha, as if two dangerously sharp wings are going to stop him.

"'Fair' isn't exactly in my vocabulary, mate."

"Almost forgot," Tommy grunts. "Blade's the dictionary fuck."

There's a flash of light before Tommy dives forward, metal clashing as his knife meets Angel's wrist-guard.

Satisfaction bleeds into the villain's cruel smile.

It almost makes him miss Phantom. At least with him Tommy isn't forced to look too hard at the bastard's ugly face.

Tommy wrestles the yelp from his throat as Angel's wings fling forward, boots digging into the ground to counteract the sudden powerful gust of wind.

An uproar of debris greets his attempts to stand firm against the violent force, triumph igniting as Tommy stands his ground.

Apparently, his success is a crime straight out of Phantom's book.

The dust barely settled when the heel of the ghost's boot meets his chest, lungs squeezing as he's sent flying onto the pavement of Ox Avenue.

He's unable to swallow back a totally-manly noise of pain- head pounding as the world roars back to life.

It's far too loud, overwhelming at this point.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump.

He can faintly hear Dream's distinct grunts from the street over.

Fuck, that means-

Tommy's eyes widen as he locks onto his headphones a few feet away, split damn-near perfectly down the middle.

"What a shame, folks," Phantom's voice sings, the villain in all his vintage-glory appearing not far from Tommy.

If he wasn't so pissed, he would've asked whose dead grandpa Phantom stole the trench coat from.

"Looks like Karma's headphones are officially down for the count!"

Live now. Mourn later.

Sweat drips down his forehead as Tommy lurches backward, Phantom's fists connecting with the pavement Tommy had laid upon only a second before.

"Oo, but Karma makes a shocking return!" Phantom cheers. His form flickers once before it returns full-force, much less passive than the ghost's usually fighting stance.

Tommy's teeth grit.

The saying isn't "Karma's a bitch" for nothing.

"You're gonna regret that, fucker."

Phantom flickers back into existence, and Tommy takes kindly to the way their fight falls into hand-to-hand combat.

It's a dance he'd practiced for years, the consistent art of feigning left and dodging right.

The meticulous thoughts firing every time Phantom leans a little too much on his left-side.

Tommy's leg sweeps beneath the villain, fury forever caught in Phantom's eyes as the villain stumbles to the ground.

His power surges as he calls upon his knife, hand reaching out to snag the handle as per usual.

Tommy's grin drops the moment his hands grab something, something that ignites the nerves in his hand aflame.

That...that is not his knife.

He groans as the metal feather rips itself from his grasp, snapping back into position on Angel's wings.

"You mother-"

The world turns.

Tommy flails as his feet leave the ground, eyes widening amidst his attempts to twist mid-air. A quick glance proves that Phantom and Angel have joined his non-consensual ascent to the sky- a very black sky that totally isn't scary as fuck in the middle of the day.

Blinding white strips creep along the avenue's road like veins, the sidewalk now a pale shade of black.

Well, that's never happened before.

Tommy's heart stalls as gravity takes reign once more, the world flashing back to normal in time for the trio to crash onto pavement.

True to his luck, he doesn't land on his feet like Dream always does.

Instead he's left in a tangle of limbs, and silence that definitely should not be there.

"What the fuck-"

Tommy forces himself to his feet as his gaze fires on instinct.

White concrete.

Black roads.

Kicked dust settling.

Still Angel of Death-

Woah, woah, slow that down a bit.

Tommy's brows furrow.

Dust should not be settling whilst two supervillains stand tall.

Oh, and the Angel of Death probably shouldn't be standing in place either.

Tommy almost wilts beneath the odd storm crashing in Angel's eyes as the villain gazes toward 180th Street. If he didn't know any better he would've deemed it an odd mix between panic and possessiveness.

It can't be panic over Dream's abilities, Tommy had spent way too much time combing through his mentor's files to of missed such a crucial detail in the man's powers.

The Angel takes a step back, pupils blown wide.

Oh.

This isn't a Dream problem.

This is a Blade problem.

For once, it seems their Number-One-Hero might just have the upper hand.

How the turn-tables.

Tommy's powers howl as he throws his knife, pride unaffected as the Angel's wings once-more deflect the blade without so much of a glance.

The air freezes as the villain slowly turns his head toward Tommy, leveling the hero with a death-glare.

If this wasn't a such an opportunity, he would've fled the scene in an instant.

But Dream needs time, and Prime will Tommy buy him some.

"Oi, dick'ead! I wasn't finished with you."

Gone are the grins, the playful woes of battle.

This is personal.

"Phantom."

A hand appears to his left and Tommy's lunges.

He barely makes contact with Angel's left wing before Angel staggers back, landing a solid punch against Tommy's cheek in the hopes it'd dismantle him.

Like hell he's giving up this easily.

"Reca-!"

His power dims as a hand clamps around his mouth, the eye-watering scent of gunpowder flooding his senses.

"Oh no you fucking don't gremlin," Phantom grunts, voice heavy with the sheer amount of effort it takes to wrangle Tommy against his chest.

Good, nothing should come easy to that prick.

He definitely doesn't flinch as the wing in his hand dissembles, the feathers following in Angel's hurried footsteps as the villain takes off toward 180th.

Fuck.

Dream better hope Angel and Blade just have an extremely beneficial partnership and aren't two extremely dangerous soulmates.

Tommy's teeth sink into Phantom's hand.

Y'know, for being a classified ghost, Phantom's hand tastes grossly similar to normal flesh.

And like a human, the ghost's hand snaps away at an instant.

Tommy doesn't give Phantom the time to register his fuck-up, the metal feather he'd managed to snag oddly light as he digs it straight into the villain's thigh.

There's a hiss before Phantom disappears, the bloodied feather falling to the ground.

His chest erupts with triumph.

"Haha, bitch! How does it feel to get stabbed-?"

A fist connects with his face.

He's just barely able make out the familiar blur Vintage Road's boutiques as he's sent flying, his hands providing a sufficient block in time for Phantom's next incoming hit.

It's evident that they're moving farther from Dream, Tommy forced backward with every punch Phantom lands.

The ghost really shouldn't be holding this well after being stabbed.

Tommy yanks on his powers, desperation lining his features as he prays for his knife's arrival.

It never comes.

Fuck- this is the last time he tries to recall something on impulse.

He won't even get another chance to recall anything if Phantom's brutality says anything.

A hand grabs his shirt and yanks, pulling the duo onto the unforgiving ground.

Phantom's hands find a home at his neck, squeezing in spite of Tommy's flailing limbs.

"Just stop- struggling!"

You're trying to fucking kill me!

Tommy's breath comes out in wheezes, eyes wide as his mind struggles for some plan.

Phantom isn't supposed to be a lethal threat and the tension lining the ghost's stance proves it. There's an ongoing battle told in the way Phantom's eyebrows furrow with discontent.

His foot kicks out, choking as his feeble attempt only gives Phantom an excuse to add pressure to his throat.

His vision tunnels.

Damn, what a shitty way to go.

"Fuck!"

Instinctively he cringes away from Phantom's hiss, flinching as he expects his small struggle to be reprimanded.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump-

The hands on his neck disappear, replaced by the violent mantra of, "Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-"

Tommy gasps, rolling onto his side as he forces air into his lungs.

Boots and nervous laughter echo as Phantom circles him. The villain's mouth moves, Tommy straining to comprehend the words.

"Of all people," Phantom was muttering. "Of all people, it's the biggest fucking pain in my ass."

His throat aches at the thought of speaking, and he can't tell if it's from being choked out or being completely helpless should Phantom decide to do something.

Tommy whines as fists tighten at his uniform, briefly registering the fact that they're moving. If the two building rising into his vision say anything, his deathbed is going to be in some dingy-ass alleyway.

It'll be poetic, if he thinks hard about it. Phantom finishing what the Angel of Death couldn't.

Dream isn't around to save him, nor is there a secondary heartbeat to care.

A hand knocks at his skull.

"-hello? Anyone home?"

Tommy forces himself back into reality, petrified as he meets Phantom's irritated expression and neon green eyes so inhuman that his mind prays they're only contacts.

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

Ironic coming from a ghost.

Damn, what a shame he can't deliver that zinger.

"Stop zoning out," Phantom huffs, kneeling at Tommy's side.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump-

Tommy isn't sure how long they stand there for, his heart slowly beginning to calm in spit of the clear danger still in front of him.

Phantom's mouth is still moving- the villain ever liked shutting up anyway.

"Thump-thump-thump...thump-thump...thump- there you go...just calm down."

Tommy bolts upright, eyes wide as his hand rubs at his throat. Phantom's hand isn't there to stop him.

"Thump-thump-thump-thump."

Phantom's hand isn't there.

"Oh fuck," he grunts, eyes wide as he scrambles away from the villain. "You're my-"

"Took you long enough. Thanks for stabbing me, by the way."

Tommy's jaw twists open to retort, the soft crinkling of paper interrupting him as cold hands land in Tommy's own. A quick glance finds a poorly written note in his grasp.

"Niki's Bakery, 120th King's Rd. 5:55PM, don't be late."

His expression morphs into that of confusion.

Kinda odd to have that on hand.

"I- uh, had a suspicion after y'know..."

I almost died?

At least his soulmate has comprehension skills.

"Karma!"

Both of them flinch at Dream's voice, eyes wide as they scramble away from one another.

This- this would look extremely bad.

There's a soft crackle of static from Phantom's trench coat.

"Phantom?"

"All good on my end," the villain mutters into the speaker. "We may have a Code Blue on our hands, though."

"What?"

Blade.

"Mate, you better have an explanation."

Angel.

"Yeah, yeah," Phantom huffs.

Tommy winces as the villain rises, an odd grin on the ghost's face.

"Guess I'll be seeing you soon, hm Karma?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Karma!"

With a salute, Phantom's figure fades just in time for Dream to come skittering around the corner.

Tommy finds his fingers shoving the note into his pocket.

This was...big.

An opportunity to report Phantom's civilian identity. To finally land the villain a ticket to Pandora's vault.

But this meant Tommy wasn't alone anymore, that he did have a soulmate, even if he couldn't feel the secondary drum of another.

He can be selfish just this once, can't he?

"I'm fine," Tommy grunts before Dream can say anything.

"You look like you just got hit by a bus."

The teenager grins, "What if I did?"

Dreams eyebrows pinch. "Don't make me think about that- lets just...lets get you patched up and home."

"You read my mind, king."

---

Out of all the ways he'd unwilling dreamed of meeting his soulmate, standing idly in front of a café was not one of them.

It felt like the beginning of some cheesy rom-com, especially with the giant ass scarf he'd forced on himself to cover Phantom's handprints. The last thing he needed was his soulmate feeling guilty over it.

Actually, maybe that would be some decent blackmail.

Tommy forces himself to breathe as he pushes the cafe's doors open, dismissive of the anxiety stirring within his chest.

The cafe's tall-ass cashier instantly turns to the door, dark brown eyes following Tommy's approach to the counter.

It's unmistakably Phantom, with dark eyebags and a stylish mess of brown hair. A part of him sighs in relief that the ghost's green eyes had just been contacts.

Oh Prime, unless these were the contacts-

"Hey."

Not the best start to formally meeting his soulmate.

"Hey."

It's awkward, half because the cafe's dead quiet, and half because it's weird as fuck to stand in front of one of Manberg's most-wanted criminals, unmasked.

Gone is Phantom's famous black eye-mask and trench coat, exchanged for a cozy brown sweater and green apron with a weird ass nametag.

This isn't Phantom. This is-

"Wilbur, huh? You don't suppose there's still time to change that-"

"Don't push it, gremlin."

[queenofbaws]

random bits and bobs about fuck no: the movie: the au because as i'm trying to shift into finishing some wips, it keeps popping up in my head...

does that mean i have a fuck no: the wip in process?

maybe.

is it a fuck no: the oneshot?

probably.

will any of these little details ever see the light of day in actual writing?

who's to say.

but here they are anyway. reader beware, i mention some chronic medical stuff in here, so if that's not your jam, you're in for a scaaaaaare. also this IS a climbing chrash or chris/ashley/josh au, so if that's not your jam either, HOO BOY.

the little underground indie horror studio everyone's favorite garbage pail kids start gets named Hidden Basement Workshop - something that, at first blush, just seems like a sly nod to josh's whole deal during the prank...and it is that, but it's also a fun signature that includes all their initials: HBW, hartley, brown, washington.

after the whole blackwood pines fiasco, josh needs a bunch of reconstructive surgery that leaves him with some facial scarring, but what really gets him (because it's MY au and i get to project wherever i WANT) is the onset of fibromyalgia once he's out of the hospital; chris sustains a fairly rough knee injury that causes him to favor his other leg and wear a brace on and off; and ashley develops migraines and some slight vision issues that necessitate her wearing glasses. they were indoor kids before the pines...after the pines, they're even more so.

this is where the scheming begins.

when the titular movie actually comes into play, or at least an early version of it they can pitch, the gang splits up responsibilities fairly evenly: ashley is, of course, the one to write the damn thing, but josh is the one to adapt it into a screenplay before handling most of the practical effects, and chris handles sound mixing/visual effects/editing. once they blow up and hire more bodies, things change, but their core roles never shift tooooooo much.

josh and ashley simply cannot work in the same room together. it doesn't matter if they're working on different projects. it doesn't matter if they're both wearing headphones. nothing matters. they just can't do it. they're always antsy the other one is looking over their shoulder and waiting to throw their two cents in, so they have to work separately.

chris does not have this issue. in the slightest. once chris is in the zone, a category 5 hurricane could be happening behind him and he'd have literally no idea.

everyone who doesn't know better assumes that they get their OH SO CREATIVE ideas from their combined history - josh's dad being in the horror movie business for years and years, chris being chronically online and familiar with game/tech development, ashley inhaling stephen king novels even before she could walk - but everyone in the know will tell you they're just vultures, plain and simple, buying the rights to any story they sniff out through the grapevine and turning it into something terrible.

josh and conrad/julia's parents were always buddies, but they fell off for a bit after hannah and beth went missing. that is, until (surprise) josh hears a really strange story over family dinner one night and calls the conman himself to "catch up." they spend a very strange night talking about pirates and sexy, sexy grandma zombies.

barely a week later, conrad handles the pr for hbw and the rest of the gang who found themselves kidnapped from the duke that night now find themselves significantly richer than they used to be. significantly.

they don't pick up new employees every time they hear about and snatch up someone's story, but...it happens. taylor and daniel eventually join on to help with stunts and blocking. mark gets offered a position as director of photography and leaps at the opportunity.

nothing - literally N O T H I N G - supernatural/paranormal EVER happens to them again...unless you count the eerie way they're able to track down stories of weird shit happening to other people ;)c

the three of them wear converses to every. single. movie premiere of theirs. it drives conrad up the fucking wall.

the garage of their place is just used for josh to make the worst, most gruesome props mankind has ever seen, so woe betide anyone who goes in there thinking it's the door to a bathroom or the laundry room. woe. betide.

eventually they decide they need a pet and end up adopting the angriest, mangiest, most torn-up old fighting tomcat they can find at the animal shelter. he's grey (sort of), is totally blind in one eye, and will let ashley and josh pet him, but only chris is given the honor of holding him for any amount of time. he swears he even heard him purr once! they name him jack and no one can ever decide if it's a joke or a memorial. probably it's both.

[tsukidrama]

please like this post if you read the rant because im literally just screaming into rhe void and i need literally anyone to listen to me right now

the family member i was closest to for most of my life and who basically guided me through being a teenager and coming out just verbally degraded me for 10 minutes using the exact same trigger words that my abusive dad always did.

i typed out what happeneed 3 times in 3 different ways and it only makes me feel worse. there was a point in my life where she was my safe person. she was the person that i could go to whenever i didn't have anyone else to talk to or i felt like no one would listen to me. she has always gone out of her way to offer her home as a safe space for me no matter what has been going on in my life.

very very long story short, my grandma's health is declining because she has heart failure. my aunt does not take care of her own health and has had to undergo emergency surgery 3 times in the past year (2022). she is getting a knee replacement on Monday.

i don't want to give out too much information because of privacy reasons but basically my grandma is in heart failure. she's 79 years old and has a lot of other medical problems that generally make her very high risk in general.

basically my grandma has convinced herself that she absolutely needs to accompany my aunt to her knee surgery. and my aunt is just, letting it happen? even though my aunt has told me multiple times that having grandma in a car for long periods of time is very dangerous for her health. it's the reason i take an 8 hour fucking road trip to see her as often as i can.

all i said was "i gotta say that i'm really worried about grandma coming along with you when you have used the words 'very dangerous' to describe car trips for her."

these are the exact words that i used.

immediately it's like a flip switched. i didn't even have time to breathe before she started shrieking like a banshee telling me that i'm disrespecting her by saying that she can't take care of my grandma and disrespecting my grandma by saying that she can't do what she wants. she kept saying "well i'm sorry that you feel that way" a lot more shit that i'm not going to sit here and upset myself by typing out.

i've been crying on and off for almost 6 hours now. i don't know what i did wrong. i don't know what to do. i want my grandma to be a part of my life but my access to her is entirely through my aunt. i want to talk to my grandma about all of this but my aunt won't let me talk to her. i'm so fucking scared for her and i feel really helpless and triggered about things that happened with my dad.

i dont want to get into it fully but basically my dad lied to my face for years about the status of his health and instructed his doctors to reiterate those lies so i wouldn't find out. two days after my 18th birthday he signed me up as his new medical proxy and continued to lie to me about his health despite forcing me to sign legal documents that would give me power of attorney if he were to go unconscious and i had to make choices for him. i only found out that he was dying when he screamed "you need to do [whatever he was yelling about] because i'm dying!" in my face. he was.

cut to a few years later and i have now developed crippling anxiety when people tell me they're having issues with their health. there will always be a part of me that feels like i'm being lied to, or that someone is either overexaggerating or underexaggerating how bad their illness is to manipulate me. most of the time when i feel like this i can recognize it as anxiety. i really do feel like i've made a lot of progress regarding that, because i know that nobody besides my dad would lie to me like that.

she understood how i felt like the choices that my father made took that relationship away from both of us. everyone else tried to convince me to show my dad sympathy, but my aunt made a point to validate my feelings in that his "out of sight out of mind" mindset was extremely damaging and traumatic for me and my brother.

except for my aunt, now, apparently??? which really fucks me up because she knows how much it damaged me emotionally. our relationship began to deteriorate when i hit my early 20s and it became clear to me that she doesn't even try to take care of HERSELF. she knew her knees were bad but she didn't go to the doctor until she couldn't walk. she knew she had kidney and gall bladder problems but she didn't go to the doctor or attempt to change her diet until she literally went into organ failure and almost died from sepsis. sinks, bathtubs, countertops, lights, the oven. all have broken and she just, did not fix it! she and my grandma washed their hands in the bathtub for months until my brother came to visit and fixed it for her. instead of saying thank you she yelled at him that she didnt need help . just including this to help paint the picture of how bad at managing literally everything is. oh, and there was a week in the Louisiana summer heat where the AC broke and she waited a week before calling someone to fix it. A WEEK. IN THE LOUISIANA SUMMER TIME. A 79 YEAR OLD WOMAN.

now i just feel like. well who the hell is this cunt and what did she do with my aunt? why the fuck is she talking to me like this???? i haven't felt like this since i was a teenager. i'm angry that she feels comfortable putting my grandma's health at risk. i'm horrified by the way that she spoke to me. i'm disgusted that i ever thought it could emotionally connect with someone who is related to my dad.

there are more reasons that we have grown apart (including a recent interest in alt-right conspiracy theories) but overall it was important to me to have a relationship with the people in that house because they're the only one left on that side of the family. so i would bite my tongue because i knew she wasn't actually going to change. she would just brush it off. but it's different when you're letting my grandma put herself at risk. and why? "because grandma wants to come"

well personally i would rather grandma be mad than dead. but apparently expressing this is extremely rude and i am a "nasty little girl that needs to learn her place"

if it wasn't for grandma i would have already gone no contact. it would hurt me a lot to cut them off but i feel the red flags popping up more than ever. aunt won't let my grandma talk to me for more than a minute or two and when i see her in person she won't let me back into her bedroom. i have caught aunt in multiple lies concerning covid safety, hanging around meth users, and an abusive ex-husband of the woman who lives with her (don't even get me started).

it doesn't seem like a possibility for me to stay in my grandma's life when i've gone no contact with her caretaker. all i want to do is talk to her. i don't know what to do. i don't want her to die. she's the only grandparent i have left and i already rarely see her because she lives so far away. all my other family is dead.

it genuinely shocks me how well people can hide their true colors. if this bitch kills my grandma i will never let her forget about it until the day she dies.