#this turned out longer than i was expecting lol

[sabertoothwalrus]

I'm going to think out loud about the dungeon meshi ages for a sec

I'm going to preface this by saying that this is based on my existing knowledge, and fact checking is difficult because there is A LOT of contentious research out there.

First of all, I think a lot of people come at this from a modern lens, forgetting the context that this is fantasy medieval era. this is fiction. on top of that, this is specifically Ryoko Kui's understanding of medieval era aging. plus fantasy. So before anyone comes at me with a bunch of 'ermmmm actualy's just consider that I don't really care and also it might not matter in this context lol

as far as the "age of maturity" assigned for each race, something I don't see many people talk about is that "teenagers" are a fairly recent concept. For a long time, you were either considered A Kid or Not A Kid. but this doesn't necessarily mean kids were more/less developed then, just our cultural expectations for certain age groups have changed.

Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen is 16. I don't think that means 16 year olds in the dungeon meshi universe are necessarily "more mature" than modern 16 year olds, but moreso that they have more responsibilities. However, things like medicine, smoking, drinking, sun exposure, physical activity, etc all affect age, so it's possible that developmentally they're closer to modern 18 year olds? Izutsumi is 17 (less than two weeks from turning 18, actually), and very much acts like a modern 17 year old.

The age of maturity for half-foots is 14. Chilchuck was 13 when he got married and had his first two children. Even though, at age 29, he's the equivalent of a modern 50 year old, I don't think he was That much more developed at 13 than a tallman. I think if half-foot 14 is equal to tallman 16, then Chilchuck was Pretty Damn Young for a parent LMAO. Even if you're generous and say tallman 16 is a modern 18, he still would've been younger than that.

The long-lived races are interesting. Marcille is obviously a unique case, and not a lot of this applies to her. We do know what Senshi was like as a minor (miner, lol), and he seemed like a modern 15ish, considering he was 36 and dwarf maturity is 40. I think it'd be really interesting to delve into how a culture functions with people being developmentally adolescent for soooooo long. Imagine middle school lasting 20 years. that would fucking suck. I suppose it makes sense why long-lived races are so patronizing.

Moving onto lifespans, I want to emphasize that they're average lifespans. Even in the manga, they say some half-foots live to 100, it's just rare. So it's less that a tallman 60 year old is "older" than a modern 60 year old, it's that it's easier to keep people alive for longer nowadays. Modern medicine is a BIG contributor. Dental health as well, considering how much your health is affected by your diet (and how much the action of chewing alone aids in digestion). Curious to know what the FUCK elven dentistry is like.

It also makes me wonder if half-foots would have a longer average lifespan if they weren't like, used for bait and treated so poorly, but half-foot 29 does seem to be middle-aged for half-foots. so who knows!

In that vein, I don't know if I can see Mithrun quite making it to 400 😬 like, his experience as a dungeon lord took a lot out of him quite literally, and he's doing exceptionally well despite it! I imagine he'd eventually start to develop a lot of heart problems if he doesn't have them already. Perhaps early-onset dementia. His memory seems still quite intact (he corrects Kabru on his story's accuracy) and he doesn't act like, lobotomized. He doesn't seem forgetful or confused, and he has a sense of humor/sarcasm still. It's mostly his task initiation that's been affected.

I almost want to say that mana affinity could affect long-lived races' lifespans, except dwarves have very poor tolerance for mana, so it's probably not that.

okay anyway I didn't really have a point to this post so I'm just gonna end my rambling here

[s-4pphics]

A/N: me vs writing what i’m supposed to aka moth aka vampire possession aka anyway here’s post santa barbara angst don’t ask questions im not really sure LOL

“You’re back.” 

Determined hands freeze in the dirt, the freshly watered daisies glistening under the beaming sun rays. Your soiled fingers halt all movement at the soft acknowledgment from behind. A sigh leaves your lips. 

“… I am.” 

An exhausted one, and it’s not from your strenuous labor in the garden. Your body refuses to turn, but holes burn in your spine, leaving behind lasered streaks of green. 

“Can you look at me?” Ellie pleads gently. The softest you’ve heard her be in months. 

What she doesn’t know is that you’ve been back. For a week actually, hiding out in other people’s homes throughout Jackson, assisting in places where Ellie’s least likely to go. The garden in particular; Pollen makes her sneeze. 

Time is vital and interesting; Dina left her and Ellie’s farmhouse with her son when you fled Jackson. She sought you out, but you weren’t there. You spent most of your time alone, walking, running, killing what you had to. Searched for peace, internal and external. The sight of the waterfall was worth the months-long trip. Your home is different now. Eerily quiet. The kids you helped teached to read don't play outside or laugh as often anymore. You hardly see Tommy or Maria around. Jesse is dead. Joel is dead. Dina isolates with JJ. Hugs him like she’ll die if she lets go. 

Ellie’s forever changed. The town’s forever changed, and you’ve finally accepted that it’s for the worse. 

“Is listening not enough?” 

Cordiality is beyond you. Spite is evident. Even the flowers can feel it. 

You tried to be patient, to coddle, to mourn and aid and tend. Sacrifice your own wellbeing for the sake of hers. You tried, Dina tried, Tommy didn’t but he did at the same time. Oddly, destructively, but in his own way. You blame him and don’t. Hate him and don’t. He’s violently and permanently scorned, but so are you. So is Ellie. She says nothing from behind you. You rise with a pop in your knees and an upturned lip. 

When you face Ellie, your knees wobble. Scarred: emotionally, physically, mentally. Permanently. Her eyes are more breakable than glass, the shattered hand that displays defeat hid shamefully behind her back. But her cheeks are fuller, no longer the hollow vacancies they were before she left. Maria was always on her back about finishing her meals. 

Grief is complicated. Hurt. Anger. The flowers wilt. Listening isn’t enough, and neither is sacrifice.

Ellie’s nose always twitches when she thinks. Your heart gives a sporadic pulse, but not enough to revive the shell you're trapped in. 

“I don’t want an apology from you.” 

She shakes her head, “I know.” 

“Then why are we talking?” 

Another twitch of her nose. She searches for something. “I—“

But then she flinches away from you, a bent arm coming up to cover her nose and mouth when she sneezes. A painful jerk thrums through your chest, but still not enough. 

“Bless you.” 

One more sneeze, but softer. A bit squeaky. Remnant of when you first met her at 13 and she followed you out to the greenhouse to watch you water the orange trees. 

“Thanks.” 

You nod stiffly. When she doesn’t say anything, you move to leave. Your work is done and she knows you’re back; There’s no point in being alone with her. 

Ellie doesn’t follow, but she does speak. 

“I’m trying.” 

You pause, one foot in front of the other. A doe learning how to walk for the first time. 

“I’m trying to be normal. I’m trying to be okay but it’s not working.” Her voice trembles.

You weren’t expecting a confession. Normal. An interesting use of the word. No one feels that anymore. 

“It probably won’t for a long time.” You state, just as quietly as she, “But if you stop trying, you’ll rot from the inside. If that’s what you want, then fine. But if not… That's all you can do now.” 

“Will we ever be okay?” 

‘We’ means many. ‘We’ means two. Your back’s to Ellie, but you can see her. Unmoving, but frantic. Her mind cranks at a million miles a minute. You feel her eyes on you. Too familiar. 

You’re not sure how to answer, so you don’t. You take one last look at her before you walk away. 

Flowers never look the same the next day. 

[doctorbitchcrxft]

The Benders | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: people are crazy, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 2370

A/N: I'm scheduling two of these today since this one's so short!! The Benders episode makes me really uncomfortable, tbh, so I kinda sped through it... lol

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and the boys sniffed out a case in Hibbing, Minnesota. A child had watched a neighbor get dragged under his car. When you spoke to the young boy, his mother didn’t seem to believe him at all. You decided to head to a bar to collect your thoughts and grab a beer. 

You and Dean played darts while Sam explained to you that his dad had earmarked this area due to the insane number of disappearances in this area. In the midst of his explanation, you realized you needed to change your tampon and hadn’t brought any into the bar with you.

“Dean, keys?” you asked.

He tossed them at you. "Why, you stealin' my car?"

“Gotta go get some girl stuff,” you responded.

“Gross. Don’t wanna know.” You knew he was kidding by the smirk on his face.

You scoffed. “It’s not gross, it’s natural! Asshole.” You shoved his shoulder playfully and headed out of the bar. On your way out, you heard a noise and stopped. You turned over your shoulder to the other cars lining the gravel parking lot, feeling uneasy. You pushed through it, deciding that it wouldn’t take you longer than two seconds to get back inside after you’d grabbed your products. 

You turned at another sound, hurrying over to the Impala. You reached into the trunk and grabbed what you needed. Before you could even turn back around, you were lying on the gravel out cold.

***

The next thing you knew, you jerked up in a metal cage covered with hay at the bottom. Your hair felt a mess, and the back of your head was tender from your fall. You looked to your left and noticed the guy you’d originally come to investigate the disappearance of asleep in the cage next to you. You scrambled to your feet, trying to kick the cage door open. Nothing was working.

Stirring in the cage next to you caught your attention. “You’re alive! You okay?” you asked.

Mr. Jenkins groaned. “Does it look like I’m doin’ okay?”

You stretched your neck. “Touché. Where are we?’

“I don’t know. The country, I think. Smells like the country,” the man responded.

“You’re Alvin Jenkins, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

“I was lookin’ for you,” you told him.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Well, no offense, but this is a piss-poor rescue.”

You kept up your plucky attitude in spite of the sinking feeling in your stomach. “Well, my friends are out there right now, too. They’re lookin’ for us. So—”

“So, they’re not gonna find us. We’re in the middle of nowhere.” He nodded at the door of the building you were in. “Waiting for them to come back and do god-knows-what to us.”

“What are they? Have you seen them?” you asked.

He looked at you confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever’s got us, what’d they look like?”

“See for yourself,” he said.

At that moment, the door opened and two men wearing black hats and coats walked in. One walked over to Alvin’s cage and kicked the side of it. Alvin moved back into the corner, yelling at them not to touch him as they entered the cage. Instead of doing anything to him, they just left a plate of food on the floor and left.

“I’ll be damned,” you said more to yourself than your fellow kidnappee. “They’re just people.”

Alvin looked at you like you were stupid. “Yeah. What’d you expect?”

You paused a moment. “How often do they feed you?”

“Once a day. And they use that thing over there to open the cage.” The man pointed at a panel on a post a few feet away.

“And that’s the only time you see ‘em?”

He shrugged. “So far. But I’m waitin’.”

“Waitin’ for what?”

“Ned Beatty time.”

“That's fucking gross, dude.”

“What do you think they want, then?”

You began trying to climb the walls of your cage to grab a long metal wire stretching from the top of the pole next to you to the ground. You got hold of it and began pulling down the wire. “Depends on who they are.”

“They’re a bunch of psycho hillbilly rednecks, if you ask me. Lookin’ for love in all the wrong places.”

You continued to pull on the wire, doing your best to hold yourself up, and it gradually began to detach from the pole.

***

Hours had gone by. You were still trying to pull the wire off; climbing back up and continuously slipping down the cage’s metal bars.

“Why don’t you give it up, sweetheart, there’s no way out,” Alvin told you.

“Don’t call me that!” You used your anger and frustration to finally tear the wire down. A piece of metal fell with it. “It’s a bracket.”

Alvin scoffed. “Well, thank God, a bracket. Now we’ve got ‘em, huh?” 

His cage suddenly swung open on its own. He scrambled out of it. “Maybe you knocked somethin’ loose.”

Your heart rate began to pick up. “I think you should get back in there, Jenkins. This isn’t right.”

“Don’t you wanna get out of here?” 

“Of course, I do. But that was too easy.” Your mind was going a million miles per minute.

“Look, I’m gonna get out of here, and I’m gonna send help, okay, don’t worry,” he assured you, turning for the door.

“I’m serious, dude! This might be a trap!”

“Bye, sweetheart.” He pushed the door open and left. 

“Jenkins!” you called. “Alvin! Dude! Come back!”

Moments later, Alvin’s former cage slammed shut. 

You shivered on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest in the center of the cage. You began to count the minutes going by. You counted all the way up to twenty minutes before you heard a distant scream from a voice that sounded a lot like Alvin.

Not even an hour later, another woman was dragged unconscious into another cage next to you. You watched her carefully until she woke up.

“You alright?” you asked her once she’d gotten a glimpse of her surroundings.

She turned her head to you. “Are you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at her. “Yeah…?”

“Your friends are looking for you.”

You laughed, relieved. “Thank god. Where are they?

“I, uh, I cuffed ‘em to my car,” the woman explained.

You sighed. 

Moments later, the door of the barn burst open. You couldn’t see who the figures were, but you backed up into the corner of your cage. Finally, Dean’s face came into view.

“(Y/N)?” 

You scrambled to your feet and grabbed onto the bars in front of him. “Dean!”

“Are you hurt?” Sam asked, looking you over.

You shook your head.

“Damn, it’s good to see you," Dean breathed out.

You smiled at him and ignored the way your heart fluttered in your chest.

“How did you get out of the cuffs?” the woman in the other cage asked.

The older brother turned toward her. “Oh, I know a trick or two. Alright. These locks look like they’re gonna be a bitch.” 

“Try that box over there,” you suggested, pointing to the control panel.

“Have you seen ‘em?”

“Yeah, dude, they’re just people.”

“And they jumped you? Must be gettin’ a little rusty there, sweetheart.” 

“Shut up, asshole.”

Sam walked over to the control panel and started trying different buttons. “What do they want?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. They let Jenkins go, but that was some sort of trap. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Well, that’s the point. You know, with our usual playmates, there’s rules, there’s patterns. But with people, they’re just crazy,” Dean responded. He was still sizing up your cage, occasionally looking to the door to see if they’d been followed.

“See anything else out there?” you asked.

“Uh, he has about a dozen junked cars hidden out back. Plates from all over, so I’m thinkin’ when they take someone, they take their car, too.”

“Did you see a black Mustang out there? About ten years old?” the woman in the other cage asked.

“Yeah, actually, I did.”

She seemed sad.

“Your brother’s?” Sam asked her, looking upset when she nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Let’s get you guys out of here, then we’ll take care of those bastards,” Dean jumped back in. “This thing takes a key. Key?”

You shook your head, and the brothers set off to find it.

“Guys?”

They turned back to you. 

“Be careful.”

Dean nodded and left with Sam.

***

You abandoned your jacket and looked over to the woman in the cage next to you. “You hurt? Your face is all scratched.”

She shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Kathleen.”

“I’d shake your hand, but, uh—”

She laughed at your joke. 

“How’d you meet the guys?” you questioned after a moment’s silence.

“They came runnin’ up into my station. The pretty boy nicked an ID off another cop and was raving about some girl he needed to find. That was kinda my first hint that he wasn’t really a cop.”

Your stomach did a somersault. “He seemed worried about me?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Huh.” A silence settled over the two of you before you spoke again. “You said you had a brother?”

Kathleen nodded. “Riley. Disappeared about ten years ago. I’ve been looking for him ever since.”

“I’m sorry,” you told her.

She didn’t answer. The two of you sat in silence again for quite some time until the door reopened. You could tell it wasn’t the two brothers, though. This man was wearing a hat and a puffer vest and inserted the key into the panel.

‘Fuck,’ you thought and grabbed at the bracket that had fallen to the ground. The door to your cage unlocked and you backed up against the far wall.

The man in the cap opened the door and aimed his gun straight at you. You threw the bracket at his gun, knocking it off-kilter, and used that opportunity to lunge at the man. You tackled him to the floor and began fighting with him for his gun. Shots rang out three times as he attempted to shoot you in the midst of the struggle.

“You son of a bitch, let go!” you screamed. You twisted your body to where your foot was on his throat and leveraged yourself that way. You pushed your foot in one direction and pulled the gun in the other, finally managing to get the gun away from him. You hit him with the but of the shotgun thrice in the head, knocking him out cold. You tried to fire the gun at him, but it didn’t work

“Fuck.”

You quickly took the key from the man on the floor and unlocked Kathleen’s cage. She helped you drag the unconscious man into the cage and relock him inside. You then smashed the control panel with the gun to disable it and keep the man locked inside. 

You heard footsteps approaching the barn and ducked behind a bale of hay. You hadn’t been able to see where Kathleen had gone, and held your breath when you heard the door open.

“Lee!”

‘Oh, that was his name.’

“Where are ya? Lee!” A rough voice called again. “Damn it, Jared, get the lights!” 

The barn stayed dark despite the switch you could hear being flipped.

“They must have blown the fuse,” a second male voice said.

You could hear the men running in separate directions; one clambering up the ladder and the other going in the opposite direction of your hiding place. You suddenly heard Kathleen grunting and fighting one of the men before hearing a gun cock.

“Hey!” you called, jumping up from your hiding spot. You ducked quickly when the man fighting Kathleen turned to shoot you. A voice behind you groaned in pain after you’d ducked and you ran over to Kathleen and the man she was fighting. You jumped on his back and began strangling him in the crook of your elbow. Kathleen wrestled the gun away from him while he fumbled through fighting you. 

“(Y/N), drop!” Kathleen told you, and you listened just before she hit the man with the but of the shotgun. He collapsed to the ground and the two of you turned your attention to the older man on the floor behind you. 

You dragged the man over to Kathleen’s cage and locked him inside. Out of breath from lugging his heavy body, you turned back to Kathleen who was aiming her gun at the older man on the ground.

“I’ll watch this one. You go ahead.” 

You stared at her, motionless.

“Go ahead,” she urged you.

You sprinted out of the barn, trying to make sense of your surroundings. You found nothing but trees, dirt, and old cars. “Motherfucker.” You then heard a snapping twig coming from the woods before you.

“Hey!” you yelled. “Come out, motherfucker!”

“Whoa, whoa, (Y/N), calm down,” Dean told you, appearing with Sam from behind you.

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Dean!” You threw yourself into his arms and squeezed tightly. He hesitated for a moment, but hugged you back strongly. You reveled in the feeling of his touch before forcing yourself to break away. You turned to Sam and hugged him, thanking the boys for coming to find you.

A gunshot sounded before Kathleen emerged from the barn. “Where’s the girl?”

“Locked her in a closet,” Dean chuckled. “What about the dad?”

“Shot. Trying to escape.” She looked uncomfortable, but you took her word for it.

Later after you’d said your goodbyes to Kathleen, the three of you were walking back to the police station to get the car.

Sam walked a little in front of you and Dean.

“Never do that again,” the older brother told you.

“Do what?”

Dean muttered, “Go missin’ like that.”

“Aw, look at you.” You playfully pinched his cheek. “You were worried about me.”

“All I’m sayin’ is, you vanish like that again, I’m not lookin’ for ya,” he grumbled.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, you won’t.”

“I’m not.”

You giggled. “So, you got sidelined by a thirteen-year-old girl, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Just sayin’, gettin’ rusty there, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm

[arctickat2400]

Take Care Of You ∞ Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill x F!Reader

Warnings: talks of detailed period stuff, negative self talk, normal repetition (*annoyed eye roll*), overall fluff and Henry taking care of Reader (as in the title lol), Henry being literally the best boyfriend ever (as per usual)

A/N: I’ve had notes for this imagine in my Notes app for a while and the day before I started to write it was the second day of my period and it was kicking my ass. So I thought it was finally a good time to write it. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3,448 (aka much longer than it needed to be)

* * * *

Henry had gone to work on his new movie a month ago and he was finally coming home. You wanted to do something special for him, knowing he’s going to be exhausted, and you just wanted to take care of him. Besides, he’s always taking care of you, so why not give him a break every once in a while if he’d let you?

However, your plans hadn’t turned out the way you wanted them to. Your period had come in the middle of the night, resulting in very little sleep. You had things you needed to do, but it was kicking your ass and all you wanted to do was curl up and not get up for the next several days. That wasn’t an option, though.

Your apartment was a mess, and although Henry doesn’t live with you permanently, he’s at your apartment a majority of his time when he’s not away filming for a movie or show, so it might as well be his home. You’d prefer it to be clean for him. But your body had different plans - you didn’t want to get out of bed.

When you finally did, you headed to the bathroom to take some Advil for the pain, but you did a double take when you looked in the mirror. Your face was all broken out, your hair was a mess, and you were feeling a bit more insecure about yourself and your body now that you were on your period, although that’s not saying much. You wanted to take a shower, but you could hardly stand due to your raging cramps, the Advil not having kicked in yet, and you decided it best to go back to bed, cleaning yourself up before doing so.

You couldn’t let Henry see you this way. Yes, he’s seen you on your period before. You’ve been together almost two years and he’s always told you how beautiful he thinks you are, on or off your period, clean or dirty hair, acne or no acne (even though no acne was quite rare). Either way, he’s always told you how gorgeous you are no matter how you look.

But your mind was telling you it’s different this time. In the past, Henry’s always been there to help you through it all, to take care of you, if it was at home or while you were on trips with him. But, he’s never come home to you this way, and the fact that it’s hard for you to take care of yourself makes matters worse. He’s coming home expecting one thing, but will come home to something completely different, and quite unattractive (at least in your mind).

So, to take care of matters to the best of your ability, you picked up your phone from your bedside table and texted Henry.

Y/N: Hey, babe. Just wanted to let you know I’m not feeling well and that maybe it’s best for you to head straight to your place when you get home. I should be feeling better in the next couple of days, so I hope to see you soon. 

The original plan was always for him to come see you when he comes home from trips. You wanted so bad to see him, more than anything. You missed him dearly when he was gone, especially for so long. If it wasn’t for your insecurities, you wouldn’t possibly care if you saw you this way. But, that wasn’t the case this time around. 

You placed your phone back on your bedside table, curling up on Henry’s side of the bed, and falling asleep almost instantly.

When Henry got the text right after his place had landed, he knew something wasn’t right. He couldn’t remember the last time he went to his house first before going to see you after a trip. He would always go straight to you and you’d never told him not to come over. 

As an idea popped into his head, Henry opened his calendar on his phone to see what day it was, and surely enough, just as he’d predicted, it was your time of month. That’s what was so great about him, it was his real life super power: Henry knew every little thing about you.

Henry couldn’t possibly just leave you alone in your time of need. He wants to come and take care of you if you want him to or not. So, he texts you back.

Henry: My beautiful baby, I’m so sorry you’re not feeling well. Let me come take care of you. I’ll be there shortly, my love.

But, by the time he’d texted back, you’d already passed out again from exhaustion, missing his text. 

Henry decided to stop by the store on his way home to pick up a few things for you. He didn’t want to make you mad by coming over when you told him not to, but he knew the reason why, and therefore he’s justified because he just wants to take care of his baby. Plus, he hasn’t seen you in a month and he hates being away from you for long periods of time. If he’s able to see you, he won’t hesitate to do so. He prefers for you to go with him on trips, and you feel the same way, but you both know you had your job and responsibilities at home that prevented you from going with him. Henry was grateful, though, for the times you are able to go with him. 

Finally pulling up to your complex, Henry took all of the grocery bags and his suitcase from the trunk and made his way up to your loft. Using his key to get in, all the bags in one hand, he set his suitcase by the door and toeing off his shoes before guiding himself into the kitchen and quietly setting the grocery bags on the island, knowing you had to have been asleep after not having texted him back. You were usually very efficient in texting people back. 

Making his way upstairs, Henry spotted your sleeping body on his side of the bed. He knew you loved sleeping on his side when he was gone because it smelled like him. He knelt down beside you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and brushing his thumb over your cheek before placing a sweet kiss to your temple. He stood to go back downstairs, putting away some of the groceries, keeping the stuff for you out on the counter. Henry, then, decided to make you something to eat for when you wake up, knowing you probably forgot to eat before going back to sleep. 

Meanwhile, still half asleep, you hear some clanging of dishes downstairs and your eyes pop open wide. Quickly, you rush out of bed and downstairs, only to find Henry in the kitchen with an apron on (you would laugh if it wasn’t for the adrenaline pumping through your veins), food on the stove, groceries on the counter, and no dishes in the sink (which you’d meant to wash before but now they were gone). The kitchen was clean, and, unless you cleaned in your sleep, Henry had done it all for you and you felt even worse now than before. 

“Henry, what in God’s name are you doing here?” You startled him as he whipped his head around, his eyes wide in surprise. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I was trying to be quiet and trying so hard not to wake you. I know it’s your time of the month and I know you said not to come over, but,” Henry walked up to you, placing his hands on your waist, brushing his thumbs over your tummy. “I just couldn’t go home knowing I could be here taking care of my precious girl. I couldn’t stand by and leave you to deal with the pain all alone,” Henry finished, a sweet smile on his lips.

You loved Henry with all your heart and loved that he wanted to take care of you despite more than likely being extremely tired from filming and his trip home. But the fact that you knew how you looked right now made tears well up in your eyes as you stared into his. The other fact, unknown to you, was that all Henry could see was his magnificent girlfriend who would never cease to look anything short of stunning to him no matter what. 

“Honey, what’s wrong? Does your stomach hurt? What can I do?” He panicked. If you weren’t so aware of your mind going haywire, you would have chuckled at his absolute need to take care of you. 

You fell into tears, turning away from him and heading back up the stairs. Henry took his apron off, hanging it on the back of a chair at the island before chasing after you. “It’s just that I looked absolutely horrendous. I’m still in my pjs, I haven’t had it in me to shower, I feel and look disgusting, I’m all broken out, and I’m just feeling all out insecure.” You say, sitting on the recliner in the corner of the room, placing your face in your hands, hiding from Henry who knelt down in front of you, his hands on either of your thighs. “And I was supposed to wake up this morning and clean, and I had a plan to take care of you today for once ‘cause I know you’ve got to be exhausted, but I ended up just falling asleep again, and you’re just so amazing and you’re always taking care of me. I just feel like such a bad girlfriend, and I… I…”

Henry took your hands from your face, holding them in his, making you look at him. “Baby, it’s okay. I don’t need anything more than to come home to you. And if that means being able to take care of you when you’re having a hard time, I’m more than happy to do so ‘cause I love you and I love more than anything to take care of you,” Henry smiles up at you as you sniffle. “And as for your comment about how you look, you know how I feel about that and you saying those things about yourself. It is impossible for you to ever look anything less than stunning to me. So don’t ever hide away from me. That would just deprive me of your beauty and we can’t have that now, can we?” Henry chuckled, pulling a short snicker from you, as he brushed his finger over your cheek to catch a tear. 

“Now, please let me take care of my baby girl. I bought you a few things from the store that I hope will make you feel better,” Henry smiled, taking your hands in his and lifting you from the chair. “Didn’t know what you needed so I just got you some extra supplies, as well as a bunch of chocolate and some food you crave around this time. Plus a little something special,” Henry turned to you as he led you down the stairs and winked at you, making a red blush rise to your cheeks. To this day, even after two years of being together, he never ceases to make you blush. 

Leading you to the island and lifting you up by the waist to sit on top, Henry pulled a bouquet of red roses from the pile of groceries, handing them to you. How you didn’t notice them before, you didn’t know. But they were so beautiful and he was so sweet for the precious gift. 

Henry stood between your legs, his hands on either side of your hips. “Henry, they’re gorgeous. Thank you,” You placed the flowers down beside you as you pulled Henry in for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling him in for a much needed hug.

“Welcome home, my love. I’m sorry that’s not the first thing I said to you,” You smiled, pulling away to look him in the eyes. “I was just very surprised to see you and I was too in my head. Didn’t realize what really mattered was right in front of me.”

“That’s quite alright, my darling. Never need to apologize. I’m just happy to be back home with you in my arms,” Henry pulled you in for another kiss. “Now, I made you lunch and your favorite dessert - brownies,” He winked at you. How you didn’t smell them before either was beyond you, but the sparkle in your widened eyes and smile sent Henry into laughter as you licked your lips. 

“Let’s get some food and water into that adorable belly of yours, shall we?” Henry placed his hands on your waist as he bent down to press a kiss to the sliver of belly beneath your tank top, making you giggle, your hand brushing through his hair. 

Henry was obsessed with your belly. You never understood why, but you guessed it might have something to do with that fact that you’ve never been a big fan of it yourself, always being insecure about it and the extra fat that’s accumulated there. He just wanted to love the parts of you that you didn’t like so that you may learn to love it all like he does. And his love for it and the constant attention has allowed you to hate it just a bit less and you were grateful for him and his love for you, not just your body.

“Then, I’ll get to taking care of my beautiful baby,” Henry smiled and kissed your forehead. And he did just that. After eating, Henry picked you up koala style (your favorite way to be held by him) and carried you upstairs and into the bathroom. Setting you down on the countertop again, he went to turn on the shower to the temperature of your liking. 

Henry came back to help you undress, lifting your tank top over your head and sliding you off the counter before taking off your underwear.

Just then, tears stung your eyes as a wave of pain struck your lower stomach and your insecurities started to come back again.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on, baby? Are you okay?” Henry questioned, his hands cupping your cheeks to lift your face to look into his concerned eyes. But you couldn’t meet his eyes as you let out a cry, your arms covering your stomach. 

“I’m so sorry. It just hurts and all of this is just so disgusting and your shouldn’t have to deal with this…” You cried and Henry followed your line of sight to your blood filled pad. He knew what you were talking about, but he didn’t understand why you were so upset about it. 

“Baby, look at me,” He placed his finger under your chin to make you look at him. “I’m here for it all. There is nothing to be sorry about. This is all normal and I know that. There is nothing disgusting about it and nothing to be embarrassed about. I hate that you’re in pain and I wish that I could take it from you. That’s why I want to be here to help you and I will be here to help you in any way I can. I will do all the heavy lifting. Just let me take care of you and it will all be okay.” Henry explained to you so it would be ingrained in your head, sympathy in his eyes. You nodded and let out a whispered thank you, not trusting your voice just yet after the tears. Henry offered a sweet smile and a kiss to your head before you went to take care of your female things while he undressed himself, ready to join you in the shower, wanting to wash off his flight. 

Henry took your brush and started running it through your hair gently, getting all the tangles out. He, then, followed you into the shower, closing the glass door behind him. Your body instantly relaxed once the hot water hit your back and shoulders. It was even better when Henry came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You leaned back against him, reveling in the warmth and safety of his embrace. 

“You’re so wonderful, Henry. I hope you know how much I appreciate you. You never cease to show me just how much you love me and I love you so much, darling.” You look up over your shoulder at him, one of his arms wrapped around your waist and the other coming up to stroke your cheek. 

“And I love you, my precious girl. I hope you know I will never stop. I can’t imagine a world where I could ever stop loving you. There is not a single thing that could take my love away from you. And that is how it will always be,” Henry smiled a small smile, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, crading your head in his hand. 

After Henry washed your hair and body and helped you shave your legs (this man’s a freaking saint), he got out first to allow you to enjoy a few more moments of warm water on your tense muscles. Meanwhile, he went to get you and him some comfy clothes while also running downstairs to grab your supplies from the kitchen. 

You opened the glass door to be met with Henry, his towel tied around his waist, holding your own fluffy towel out for you to walk into as he wrapped it around your body. He helped you dry off before getting himself dressed while you went to put in a tampon. Turning to see him shirtless and in a pair of gray sweatpants, just as you like him, you meet Henry in the middle. He knelt down to pull your underwear up your legs, a pad already set up inside, and pulled his Royal Marines hoodie over your head. It was your favorite hoodie because it was his. It always smelled like him and felt like his hugs for whenever he couldn’t be there to hold you.

Henry took your towel and ruffled it through your hair to dry it a bit, making you laugh. He loved your laugh and it never ceased to make him smile. Twisting your hair and clipping it at the top of your head, Henry picked you up in his arms and carried you to bed. Laying you down gently against the pillows, “Get comfy, sweetheart. I’ll be right back,” Henry leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, smoothing the hair back from your forehead, before leaving to go downstairs. You took the remote from your bedside table and turned on the tv to Man of Steel. It was your favorite comfort movie. What could you say? Did it have to do with the impossibly handsome man currently in your kitchen? Maybe. 

Soon enough, Henry came back upstairs with a tray of items in his hands - a plate of four generously sized brownies, your Owala water bottle, two Advil pills, and a bowl of cut up strawberries. You smiled at just the sight of such a spectacular man (in more ways than one) coming toward you as he placed the tray on your right side before climbing into bed on your left (you sleep on the right and Henry sleeps on the left). Henry pulled the covers over your legs and pulled you into his side. 

He made sure you drink plenty of water, always making sure you were properly hydrated, and ate the snacks he brought up, having heard your tummy make noises just after getting out of the shower. You took the Advil as well, hoping to keep the cramps at bay if you kept on the medicine. 

Once you were done with the brownies (two for you and two for Henry), you slid down to lay your head on Henry’s chest, your legs pulled up over his. He held you tight against him, one arm around your back and the other rubbing your belly. Being back in Henry’s arms made you feel so safe and secure, and you were so comfortable, you began to drift off. Your eyes became heavy, the toil of your emotions and hormones getting the best of your.

Henry looked down to see you struggling to stay awake. “Sleep, my love. It’s alright. I’ll be here when you wake,” He brushed his fingers through your hair, soothing you into a deep sleep in the warm embrace of the love of your life.

[woozification]

the art of staying calm (until you're not)

[re-bee-key]

People who are confused about Bowuigi (Bowser x Luigi) make me chuckle.

Like... the ship features quite a few tropes found in straight women romance novels. So its not like this is coming out of no where.

You have the obvious monster with damsel trope. Which pairs with size difference, a hallmark in many ships. There's the power imbalance aspect, with bowser having both brute strength and is literally a King. Being captured and falling for your capture is a VERY common trope. Luigi being actually pretty competent and having latent magic abilities (lighting powers and ghost sensitivity) adds a "secretly capable magical main girl" energy. (Magical main girls often have a non-human love interest.) You've got opposites attract, sunshine and grumpy, shy and loud, and overly nice meets single dad. And dont even get me started on how often putting a finger or dangerous object under someone's throat is used in a sexual manner.

Like, if you are familiar with any of these tropes, then the ship shouldn't be a surprise. My theory is the only reasons anyone is shocked by it are because its a gay ship with typically feminine tropes and because Bowser is an actual monster. (Most of these tropes are used in straight ships and typically straight monster stories has the (typically male) monster character be mostly human, with only minor monster traits or turns Into a monster. Think any vampire or werewolf ship, or even most dragon ships.)

Anyways, if you open your hearts and minds, you will find that not only is the Bowuigi ship not surprising but is the most logical outcome for these characters. -bows- Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[schibi12]

I am in like a weird/gray area when it comes to the mcyt fandom and i don't mean that morally o ethically but knowledge wise.

Because i come from the old guard of Minecraft YouTube, CaptainSparklez, DanTDM, Thinknoodles, SkydoesMinecraft, IHasCupquake, PopularMMO's, to name a few, and back in the day Minecraft YouTube was nothing like it is today it was very simple back then, lets play, mod showcases, building games, modded series or smps, that does mean lore didnt happen they where a few instances when it happened, the CrazyCraft war.

Even though i don't watch much Minecraft YouTube as i did when i was younger but there is one Youtube that i still watch till this day from when i was a child and that is Ldshadowlady, without a doubt my favorite mcytuber, and by watching her i started watching other youtubers Smallishbeans, Scott, LaurenZSide, Joey Graceffa, TheOrionSound and some more.

And then Empires SMP happened, and everything changed, lore, ships and a musical and it was the first i wanted to see fancontent of it, heck i even made my own fanart of it, i wanted to talk with peeps about it and i did (shoutout to the empires hype house discord server appreciate all of ya), but if you watch/follow any mcyt series wether you want to or not you are aware of the Hermit of all. Hermitcraft is everywhere in mcytblr and the Life series is a close second.

I have not seen a single episode of Hermitcraft and for the Life series ive only seen Lizzie's perspective in Last Life (and some episodes of Joel), but unlike the Life series where i know some stuff, Hermitcraft i know nothing like i know some of the creators like Grian because i used to watch his build/design showcases, Pearl because of Empires and a few others.

But there are some terms/things that people say or make fanart of that just leave me utterly confused for example

Why is Grian sometimes drawn with bird features?

Why is Pearl sometimes drawn with moth features?

What is Boatem???

Soup? What the heck is soup, like actual soup?

And that brings me too gemcyt which i know it's mainly based on the Life series but they are still works which are inspired by Hermitcraft that just makes me say "Your art is amazing even though i don't get the context."

And that's where i am in my self-proclaimed gray area of knowledge in the Mcytblr.

[chisutofu]

**link click spoilers ahead**

it's just funny how after season 2 wrapped up, both opening soundtracks finally make perfect fucking sense in both LG & CXS's pov

dive back in time

LG's pov: "time no longer flew like it was when the flash froze everything before. without you, i don't know if I could take this road" (we all know that LG painstakingly went back in time over and over again in hopes to create a timeline where CXS does'nt d*e. we don't know how many times he has done this but for him it doesn't even matter anymore bc he can't see a world without CXS in it)

CXS's pov: "every minute that I dialed back in time, every single existence rewinds, something secretive hidden inside your mind" (CXS to his seemingly rational partner. yes, he trusts him fully but maybe deep down there's a nagging feeling that there's something about LG he just couldn't figure out---and now we know why)

vortex (has both CXS & LG's pov but mainly LG's)

CXS: "where do we end up when we save the world, truth in the shadows so brightened in gold. place our fate into the ones aren't in control" (CXS' moral dilemma every single time he goes back to the past but really can't change anything no matter how bad it is bc this is the number one rule they've established w/ LG)

LG: "i guess that there was never such a thing like everything's meant to be. but i'mma win this silly game, until then I will never leave" (LG's evident determination to keep trying and gambling until he can win CXS's life back in the game of fate)

LG: "wasn't it hard to follow? i'd do it again tomorrow. it drag me down and drag me down. maybe we'll never leave" (LG knows he is a hypocrite and the guilt was probably eating away at him for the longest time, but at this point he is way past wrestling with his morality that it is no longer a question of how he saves cxs but "when"...in which timeline...and he will keep trying until then)

CXS: "i've held promises unbroken, even when the night has fallen" (referring to all the times he kept LG's reminder to try not to change the past no matter what happens and no matter how fcked up it gets. there may be times when he gets impulsive and tries to save everyone but in the end he know he has to accept whatever may come)

LG: "shattered mirrors our reflection, should you keep the light on reason" (referring to himself. he basically lost his mind when he loses CXS the first time that it doesn't even matter if he keeps on gambling away the fate of everyone else. what only matters to him is that he can get to an ending where he saves CXS)

idk if i am reaching but this is just me and my mental gymnastics after s2. i rest my case

[youngpettyqueen]

Hi!!! You wanted fic requests from that prompt list right?

For the prompts, I think 5 and 65 go well together, so maybe something with those two and Julian/garak, if you want?

YES THANK YOU youre so right those do work really well together... love me some hurt/comfort time to inflict it on these two

“I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Look at me—just breathe, okay?”

Julian comes to smelling nothing but smoke and tasting nothing but blood.

He tries to open his eyes. Only one does. The other isn't cooperating- feels like it's glued shut. He finds himself looking out over the floor of the promenade. He's on the floor, then. On his stomach, from the feel of it, one arm caught underneath him.

Smell of smoke. Flickering lights. Everything's bathed in orange light. He can see flames, flickering in the corner of his vision.

Julian squeezes his eye shut again, trying to think. His head's pounding like a drum. He was on the promenade, he remembers that much. And he was... he was sitting. He was having lunch. But try as he might, he can't remember how he got to the floor. One second he was sitting, the next he was here.

The context clues make it easy to figure out. Smoke, fire, the vicious hammering in his skull. There must've been an explosion. Which means he's hurt. Which means a lot of other people are probably hurt. Which means he needs to get up, and get to work.

He starts pushing himself up to do just that, but he doesn't get very far. The arm that's caught under him doesn't want to cooperate, and trying to force the issue makes pain rip through his nerves like fire. He ends up buckling onto his side, gasping painfully. The pain centres at his shoulder, white-hot and stabbing- there's something stuck there, right under his collarbone.

Julian opens his eye again. This time, staring out across the smoking promenade, he can see somebody. He tries to call out, but his voice doesn't come, and the attempt leaves him coughing up a lungful of smoke. This does his injured shoulder no favours, and makes him aware of a deep ache in his ribs. He manages to roll himself onto his back to minimize how much he's jostling himself, bracing his ribs with his good arm, still coughing up ash and grit.

This is bad. This is very, very bad.

"Doctor!"

A voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. A familiar voice, only his head is too scrambled to remember who it belongs to. He looks over, and sees the person he'd spotted hurrying towards him.

"Doctor!" They call again. And he realizes who it is, right as his beautiful face comes into view.

Garak drops to his knees beside him. His eyes are wide with alarm, while Julian can only look up at him and smile weakly. Maybe it's sappy, but seeing Garak makes things feel a little less awful.

"G-Garak..." He manages to get out, sounding and feeling like he's talking around a throat full of sand. He coughs uncomfortably, wincing slightly. Then, he remembers just why he was sitting at lunch, and his weak little smile grows as he throws out the accusation, "You're late."

Garak looks like he's on the verge of three different panic attacks. "Yes, well, how fortunate that I was," He says, his tone and his eyes not at all matching his joking words, "Otherwise I might have been caught in this, and then where would you be?" His eyes keep flicking to Julian's injured shoulder, confirming what he already knows.

Julian manages a weak nod. "There's something in my shoulder." He acknowledges.

"A sizeable piece of metal," Garak supplies him, since Julian can't see it, "And you've got a nasty cut on your forehead."

"I'm concussed," Julian adds, "And I've got some bruised ribs. Can't tell how many. They may be broken. Hard to judge the pain with... you know." He nods weakly to his shoulder.

"Oh, is that all?" Garak asks, his sarcasm sounding genuine, of course, "Any other injuries I should know about, Doctor?"

"I'll let you know if any make themselves known," Julian rasps, "Now, could you be a dear and- and hit my comm badge? I can't really move all that much." He admits.

"There's no point," Garak tells him, "Comms are down. So are transporters. From what I can tell, several bombs have gone off. Here, ops, at least one in the habitat ring, and maybe one in the infirmary," He gives Julian a grim look, "We seem to be in quite the dire situation, Doctor." He observes.

Julian huffs something that might be a laugh. "I'd noticed," He puffs out, "So, just you and me, then. Tell me, Mr. Garak..." He hopes his nerves aren't showing as he asks, "How are your medical skills?"

Garak's expression gives nothing away. "Subpar, compared to yours," He replies, "Though I suspect we have no other choice."

"None at all," Julian agrees, "Either you stop all this bleeding I'm currently doing, or I'm going to be in... quite a bit of trouble." He's already lightheaded. He hopes that's just the concussion.

"Alright," Garak nods, "Alright, yes. Yes. Stop the bleeding," He nods again, and leans back to start tearing at his tunic, "I can certainly do that." He continues, sounding like he's talking to himself more than he's talking to Julian.

Julian manages to raise a brow at him. "Garak."

"Yes, Doctor?" Garak doesn't look up.

"Try to sound a bit more confident," Julian suggests, "Makes patients feel... at ease."

Despite everything, Garak still manages to give him an unimpressed look as he tears a sizeable chunk of fabric away from his tunic. "I'll keep that in mind," He replies flatly, shifting in closer. His expression softens as his eyes return to what Julian is sure must be a grisly wound, "Now, I'm going to take care of you, ok? And I need you to advise me on the best way to do that."

Julian nods. "Of course," He agrees, "My shoulder needs immediate attention. You have to stop the bleeding there, but don't... don't remove the piece of metal," He advises, "Sort of... wrap that fabric around it, and press down on the wound. Try not to move the metal," He adds, "It might make the bleeding worse."

Garak listens intently, eyeing his task up. "Seems simple enough," He says. Then, with an almost... sympathetic look to Julian, he tells him, "I will have to hold you down, Doctor."

"I know," Julian replies, "It's going to hurt. I'm probably going to scream bloody murder." He warns him.

"You know I'd never want to hurt you." Garak adds.

Julian manages a faint smile. "If the choice comes down to you hurting me, or me bleeding to death, I hope you don't mind if I'd much rather have you hurt me." He murmurs.

Garak takes a breath. "Very well," He says, "Brace yourself, my dear." He shifts himself into position, placing himself in such a way that he can hold Julian down against the floor as he gets his makeshift bandage ready.

Julian gets to take half a bracing breath before the pain spikes. Garak moves in quickly, clamping down on the wound with both hands, and it feels like someone's set his shoulder ablaze. Julian screams like he's just been shot, instinctively trying to jerk away, but Garak doesn't let up on him. He's trapped, pinned down, and thank god for that, but he can't help but howl again as the piece of metal buried in his shoulder jostles with the movement.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Garak gasps, continuing to hold him down and keeping steady pressure on the wound. It feels like he's also holding onto the metal, keeping it still as best he can, "Look at- look at me, Doctor, look at me- just breathe, yes?" He tries, with a smile that is not at all convincing, "Just breathe. Try to breathe."

Julian manages to still himself, gasping shallowly and painfully, black spots dancing in his vision. "I have damaged ribs!" He manages to hiss out, "This is the best I can do!"

"I'm not exactly a trained professional!" Garak reminds him, voice pitched with anxiety, "I'm just saying what you always seem to say to your patients! What else would you have me say?" He demands.

"Just- just distract me," Julian gets out between gasps, "Tell me a story. True, false, doesn't- doesn't matter, just- just anything, Elim, please-" He begs. He's tempted to ask him to bash his head off the floor and knock him out, but he doesn't think that would help Garak's current state. He can feel his hands trembling against him.

Garak's eyes search his face, the panic in them clear and unguarded. And then, almost hysterically, he asks, "Did you know one of my first jobs was as a server?"

The absurdity of that question almost makes Julian forget about his current agony. Almost. "What?"

"Yes, I was a server," Garak continues, looking and sounding like he's flying by the seat of his pants, "A waiter, as you Humans might say. It was a fine dining establishment, only for the highest of high classes. Have I truly never mentioned this?"

"Never," Julian gasps, "Do- do go on."

"Oh, gladly," Garak takes one hand away from the wound in his shoulder, and reaches over to gently brush some of Julian's hair away from his forehead- looking at his head wound, "I served some very high profile individuals, including one you're all too familiar with," He starts gingerly probing around where the wound must be, and Julian grinds his teeth as he presses on bruising, "You remember our good friend, Gul Dukat."

"I wish I didn't." Julian growls, more out of pain than anything else.

Garak manages a chuckle at that. "How rude, my dear. I seem to be rubbing off on you," He observes, "But yes, I would serve our dear Dukat often. The man can't hold his liquor," He tells him, "It's rather embarrassing, actually. One time, he..."

And Garak continues to ramble, concocting a story out of thin air that holds absolutely no truth. Still, Julian hangs onto every word, clinging to them as he desperately clings to consciousness. Garak's hand finds its way into his good one, holding tight, and it stays there until help finally finds them.

[stevebabey]

do u ever write smth and go now what the fuck was that

[cheekblush]

i'd rather be friendless than to constantly have my boundaries disrespected

[wigglywormy]

i'm 1k words into this bkdk tickle fic, and it's the first fic I've written in like 5 fuckin years lol and god it feels so good to write again i'm so happy ahhhhh

[lloydfrontera]

What is your opinion on og!Lloyd? i don't know if you ever did a character analysis of him and i vaguely know the novel talks about him in some moment. I'm just curious of what you think of him

*sigh* i,,, don't,, love him,,, to be honest 😅

just... a warning. do skip this one if you like og!lloyd. cause i'm not gonna be very nice to him akjshdka

i have very little patience for characters who are mean for no reason and have no other qualities to redeem them. which is what og!lloyd is.

Lloyd Frontera, the hooligan, was a mess. His personality. Behavior. Attitude. Not a single attribute of his was worthy of praise. He destroyed himself and those around him, slacking off and behaving recklessly at any given chance. He was always preoccupied with his thoughts about the Frontera fiefdom, a boring and hideous province. He pitied his fate of being born and rotting away in such a place. And so, he was always angry. He was enraged by the lack of his family's status and his unfulfilled greed. The anger, disappointment and frustration inside the young master were taken out on everyone around him. He hurled insults at maids and physically assaulted servants. He mistreated his parents and the rest of the family. -Chapter 236

like. man a piece of shit lmao. he was born in such a favorable position considering the setting he lived in, he was a noble, he had parents that loved and supported him, he was healthy and able bodied, he had so many opportunities of making something for himself. and he didn't.

"[...] You said I will really pull myself together and study hard this time. So please believe me and make an investment. I was happy. That was why I readily gave you the money that came from selling the villa for the academy tuition. But you completely wasted every single cent with the scoundrels you used to get along with. All the while, you shamelessly played around with women and threw grimy parties in drunken stupor" -Chapter 7

it clearly wasn't that he didn't have chances to be better. he had plenty of them. imagine having a dad that loves you so much that even after years of being an arrogant, rude, violent piece of crap still has the hope that you'll get better and gives you the resources that you need to achieve that. and then you waste them in drinking and messing around. like. god.

now let's talk about julian. his younger brother.

my god.

if anyone had any right to never ever forgive or trust lloyd again in his entire life it was julian.

"[...] Each day, he threw his drunken tantrum at all people. Breaking stuff in the house was commonplace. Sometimes, he hit people and Julian wasn't an exception. Arguably, Lloyd whacked Julian the most. When Julian was young, Lloyd beat him for not doing his errands. When Julian grew older, Lloyd beat him for hovering around when he was drinking. His violence grew worse to the point that Lloyd whacked, punched, and kicked Julian for always living an upright life." -Chapter 85

Three years ago, Julian prepared to leave the Frontera fiefdom to enroll in the academy and wanted to greet his brother before leaving. After all, he was still his brother despite how much Julian hated him. But the moment he opened the door, the pungent and acrid smell of alcohol assaulted hi nose, and then came a shout, yelling at him to get out since he's sleeping. Then, a bottle of alcohol was tossed in the air and hit the wall right beside Julian's face. The smell of liquor, the rough yelling and the shattered bottle. That marked his last interaction with Lloyd three years ago before Julian left for school. Julian stroked the corner of his left eyes by habit with his hand. There was a small scar on his skin, a burrow that looked like a mole. He had gotten it that very day three years ago from the shards of the glass bottle Lloyd threw. -Chapter 89

like. let's be clear here. lloyd isn't a child. he's not even an adolescent or a teenager. he's a grown ass man. he was 25 at the start of the novel. he's 5 years older than julian. the narration tells us that lloyd physically abused julian when he was young and then as he grew older. but julian left his home when he was 18. there was no point in their relationship where julian wasn't a minor being physically and verbally harassed by his five years older brother.

the text tells us lloyd physically assaulted the servents and it also tells us that arguably the person he hit the most was julian so. we can draw conclusions on how bad the abuse got.

so... all of that it's kind of what makes me feel so uncharitable towards og!lloyd.

he was such a,,, a shitty person. he had everything going for him and instead of making the most of it he decided it wasn't enough and grew bitter and angry that he didn't have more and decided to take it out on everyone around him. people who loved him, who worked for him, who would one day depend on him, people who simply didn't deserve the way he treated them.

and for what? because he thought his family wasn't prominent enough? cause he lived in a quiet and boring place? cause he didn't have more status? he was a noble for god sake, he was born in an aristocratic family, he wouldn't have to work a single day of his life if he so wanted! he could've gone to the capital city and studied hard like his brother and made something of himself if he wanted more prominence! he could've traveled and seen other places if he didn't want to be stuck in a small barony!

but he didn't want to work hard. he wanted everything to be handed to him from birth and not move a single finger to get what he wished for.

and y'know me, i love shitty characters, i love pathetic men, i love absolute bastards who want and take and hoard but the one thing i can't stand is spoiled, lazy and entitled brats who not only refuse to work for what they want but also dare to blame and hurt others for what they lack.

add to it that he was abusive ass to his little brother and employees and you have the perfect mix for a character that i would fight in a dennys parking lot at 3 am lmao

he eventually does come to regret the way he acted, but to me it's too little too late y'know? the damage was done and he had no way to fix it. and the thing is if he hadn't been forced out of his body and made to watch as someone else took over his life he never would've changed. he would've go on to die as the same rude, violent and incompetent person he lived as.

but, for the sake of being fair, i will acknowledge that he did come to genuinely regret his actions. to realize that he had no excuse. and it is genuinely sad to see him come to terms with the fact that the person who replaced him was a better son, a better brother, a better heir and better person than he ever was. that there was a reason his parents worried and cared for the person walking around in his body now. that the person who took over his body changed completely the reputation he'd made for himself by being a hooligan.

and he did ask after his parents before going into the reincarnation gate so i guess he did care for them even if he didn't show it when he was alive. also him not asking after julian because he knows his brother is smart and he's sure he's fine on his own is kinda sweet (even if i don't think it's nearly enough to make up for all the years of abuse lol)

speaking of the reincarnation gate! at first i thought og!lloyd being reborn as suho would make me like him more but?? actually it did the contrary??? it was so weird!! i thought my feelings of "💜💖💕💞<333💗💖<<3💞💜💕💜<33" for lloyd would bleed through and soften me up to og!lloyd but nope! kinda made me even more mad at him asjkhdka because like,,, it just kinda showed that he never had any reason to act like that?? and i already knew that but making a direct comparison to lloyd in canon just made it all the more clear.

suho had so many reasons to become a terrible person. he had so many reasons to stop caring for other people and become a total asshole. to stop trying so hard and give up and just take up the vice of his choice to drown out his bitterness. and he never did. he never stopped trying, he never stopped caring, he never could bring himself to not love the people around him.

and you could argue that this is because of og!lloyds resolution to be a better person in his next life but i think that ascribing everything that suho did to that would be a disservice to suho's character. he has none of og!lloyd's memories, he has no idea that was his past life, he's his own person, formed by his own experiences and feelings and environment and to act like all he is and does is because of the regrets of his previous life is taking away the strength it took for him to take all of his pain and hurt and tragedy and decide that he wanted something better, both for himself and for his new family.

so does og!lloyd's resolution for his next play a part on suho's character? yeah, almost definitely. but i don't think it's all there is to it and it certainly does not make up for all the hurt he caused in his own life.

i'm a nurture over nature kind of person, so i tend to think of suho and og!lloyd as different characters despite the whole reincarnation thing. i fully believe it is our experiences and decisions who make us, well, us, who we are as persons, so suho having his own memories and not remembering life as og!lloyd is enough to make him his own person, shared soul or not. but ymmv and all that

so... yeah aksdjka

[eveenstar]

Dating Masky would be like.... (Headcanons)

Dating Toby headcanons , Dating Hoodie headcanons

In this AU Masky and Hoodie are part of the proxies/Slenderman gang because I said so

I don't know you got yourself in this situation, but you did. Congrats? You're probably not leaving alive but hey, it's a one time experience! Literally.

There's two paths this can take; you either date Tim or you date Masky. You can't have both. I mean, you can but you can't. It's complicated.

If you dated Tim during Marble Hornets, you'll catch Masky slipping through the cracks here and there. However, if you date Masky post-MH, you'll rarely see Tim. And I mean it, very very very rarely. It's like there's no Tim there anymore, it's only the Masked Man now.

We'll focus on Masky post-MH. Like I said, I have no idea how you managed to get into a relationship with this mountain man but you did. I hope you're not a touch starved or cuddly person because this man avoids that like the plague.

He doesn't talk, at least not much. He's not full mute but he's also not the sarcastic full-of-shit you'd imagine him to be. He'll talk when he feels like it.

A little tip; his eyes. The ol' cliche of "the eyes are the gates to the soul" bs falls here. What Masky doesn't say out loud, his eyes will show. He's very expressive in that matter.

Grudges. Holy shit, please never do anything to anger this man (despite his short temper). His grudges can last a lifetime. Expect some sort of revenge for whatever you did to anger him in the first place.

But let's see the bright side of things here; you'll never get hurt. Unless he's the cause, but that's surprisingly rare. Followed close behind by Toby, Masky is on the top 3 most possessive proxies. I mean, you're not allowed to see or talk to other proxies, "creepypasta's" or strangers - but it's for your safety. He might be a huge dumbass but he won't put your safety at risk.

Speaking of safety, he'll absolutely train you. Self defense, basic fight moves, anything. He wants you to know how to defend yourself or improve on what you already know + downside, he won't go easy on you which always leads to bruises. He'll help you take care of them though.

And it's in those little moments that you might, just might, see a glimpse of Tim in his eyes or the way his actions become softer. He's still there, buried beneath all those layers of trauma and the walls Masky built. He'll avoid your gaze in those moments, no matter how much you stare at him, or call for him - in the end it'll always be Masky looking back at you.

Wholesome thing is, you end up wearing his jacket A LOT. It's just - he has a thing with you wearing his clothes. Don't ask.

Masky is the Michael Myers of the proxies. He's more like, Strode Trilogy Myers while Hoodie is OG Myers. You can't tell whether he's breathing or not because of how still he can get, but one thing he differs from Hoodie is that you can always tell if he's there or not. He can't cloak himself as good as his partner does.

There are times you won't see Masky a lot. He's the "executioner" of the group. He might not be the leader anymore, but he still carries himself around like one. Due to this, he's always the one sent to eliminate those who have come a threat.

He'll always return in a "bad" mood. He won't take it out on you but please don't try your chances by getting yourself in his way. Let him take couch for a few nights and he'll be yours again.

You'll rarely meet the other proxies, there's more than Hoodie and Toby, but you'll see them even less. Whenever they drop by, you hide yourself in the bedroom or anywhere in the house away from them. Those are the only times you'll hear Masky speak like a normal person (or whatever normal means for them).

The others, those who are not Slender's to control, you'll never see unless they so happen to walk by. But don't worry, you're not missing out on anything.

I believe it's worth to mention that you probably have the Sickness as well. It's not as bad as Masky's but it's still there.

Speaking of which, whenever Masky gets a really bad day on his coughing, only approach him if he so asks. Unless you wanna be pushed off of him in a rather aggressive way. But if you have his permit, draw circles on his back or just be there for him. Eventually his hand will find yours for comfort - but he'll never bring that up.

However, not everything is a fairytale and there shall come the day where the Big Man will decide that your time has ran out and have Masky kill you. He knows this, he knows SlenderMan would have him kill you just for fun and giggles. Because of this, he gave you a map and instructions of what to do in case that day ever comes. He only hopes the training he gave you will be enough to defend you from himself.

Until then, you live out this morbid fairytale with him, in his little hideout. :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[soursvgar]

The brothers and what they love about Christmas

demon brothers x gender neutral reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Lucifer

If confronted, he will deny it, but Lucifer's favorite during the holidays is the time spent together with his family.

For Lucifer, December is exactly the opposite of a period of tranquillity. There are permission slips, documents and arrangements to take care of for upcoming winter festivals, devil day celebrations and other seasonalities. In fact, his work would increase tenfold during the holidays and more often than not, he would spend Christmas in his study trying to catch up with all the work.

The day felt like no other, Lucifer drags himself back home from RAD at a late evening, overlooking the illuminated town as fatigue take over every cell in his body. Finally making it back, he hangs his coat on his way to his study, briefly passing by the living room as he detects a figure recumbent on the couch. Lucifer sighs at Belphegor's carelessness and carefully drapes a blanket over his sleeping body.

"Lucifer, you're finally back!" He turns towards your voice, spotting you on the floor along with Satan, Leviathan and Mammon in the middle of a heated game of cards. Beelzebub is heading back from the kitchen with snacks for everyone while Asmodeus is hanging the stockings over the fireplace.

"I apologize, but I have to hurry back and finish the rest of my work for today."

"Oh come on, it's Christmas!" You object, the rest of the brothers backing you up and call for him to join in. "Work will still be there tomorrow, we'll even let you pick the movie!"

Lucifer suppresses a grin; it's not every night he gets to see a lovely picture of his siblings happily socializing with one another, with one uniting force to bring them all together- you.

With no further retaliation, he ditches his responsibilities for one night and one night only.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Mammon

Mammon's favorite Christmas tradition is, of course, the presents.

Prior to your arrival, Mammon had attempted multiple times to convince Lucifer to celebrate Christmas at the house of lamentation. Over and over again, Lucifer refused, claiming it's a waste of their time and energy and that he has work to fulfil during the holidays regardless. But when you came along, he finally had a good enough reason to coax Lucifer into it, implying it would really impress lord Diavolo if they could arrange a proper celebration for the new human exchange student. Lucifer finally caves in to his demands, under the condition that he will be the one to take care of all the preparations.

"I'm telling ya, Christmas in this house is a blast, we'll knock your stockings off with our decor." As per usual, Mammon bluffs his way into impressing you, talking your ear off while the two of you are out holiday shopping. He detecs a hopeful gleam in your eyes and is determined to give you the best Christmas he can, despite being away from your home in the human world. After all, here in the devildom, with him, is where you belong now.

"You head home first, The Great Mammon have shady business to attend to here in sum places, not stuff ya wanna be involved in, m'kay?" Mammon pulls you closer by your hip and plants a loving peck to your forehead before releasing you on your merry way. When he's assured you're out of sight, he sneaks into the jewellery store you and him walked past earlier on your spree to get you the trinket he caught your gaze linger on.

Mammon loves presents, but not for the reason everyone will first assume. While he may be an enthusiast of all things that come free, the actual reason Mammon loves presents so much is because he is addicted the sheer joy in the eyes of his loved ones when they receive a gift he grinds at hell's kitchen for, then goes and hand pick it, specifically tailored to the person's liking.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Leviathan

Levi's discovered that he has a passion for building gingerbread houses.

It was actually you who caught onto Levi's knack for creative activities; whether it's sewing costumes for a cosplay, fixing his figurine collection whenever Henry 1.0 accidentally slithered over his belongings and knocked them over, or pitching his art in a TSL covers competition.

"So, did they ever feature Ruri-hana's house in the series?" you ask Levi during one of your game nights, already mentally preparing yourself for a lecture on the subject in case the answer is yes. He beams, then proceeds to tell you in detail about the colors of the windows in Ruri-chan's house as seen on episode two hundred and thirty-seven of volume six of the anime. From there, the road to convince him to assemble a copy of it from gingerbread and sugar cookies with you was very short.

"Woahhh! this looks just like Ruri chan's house!! And we even created an exact replica of her companion from a miniature dorayaki!" Levi babbles in excitement, proud of the work you and him input into this project. "And what's the inspiration behind yours, y/n?" He ducks his head to take a closer look at the cozy looking confectionery house on your tray.

"My inspiration is my home in the human world!" You cheerfully exclaim. Levi clamps a hand over his mouth, now realizing the intent behind your shared project. Is he, actually... touched?

"W-Well in that case, we have to make it perfect! Go ahead, tell me everything about your house in the human world so we can create a perfect mini version of it. We can even make two gingerbread people to impose as you and I. Well, I mean, i-i-if you will actually want to invite someone like me into your house..."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Satan

Satan's favorite Christmas activity is secret santa since it's a good excuse to play detective.

Satan loves solving mysteries, to top that, he's also fond of games. (though, in a very different way than Levi.) Therefore, a game of secret santa, extreme devildom version, sounds like a perfect holiday tradition for him. That is, until he gets Lucifer as the person he has to give gifts to.

"This can't be happening to me." Satan announces the minute you step inside his room. Perched on an armchair, he rocks his foot nervously while staring at a piece of paper, gaze flickering back and forth between you and the note in his hand. You carefully tread between the mountains of books on the floor in order to reach to his side, wondering what exactly was the emergency he convened you in for. You crouch to see the small print on the paper in Satan's hand, the letters clearly reading out as 'Lucifer'.

"I knew I should've refused to take part in a silly human world tradition. What am I to do now? What gift could I possibly give Lucifer apart from a cursed item that turns you into a fruit, then incorporate you in Beel's shake, ultimately dooming you to live the rest of your short life inside his stomach, where no one can hear you screaming for help." Satan's sorrowful expression suddenly changing into a malicious smile, his villain like laughter echoes through the walls when his mind fogs with more and more ideas of secret-santa-presents-gone-wrong.

"Well you could do that... or, you can actually give him something nice. Imagine how much it will mess with his brain when he finds out he received a thoughtful present from you." praying reversed psychology is by your side, you attempt to save Lucifer from the fate of accidentally turning into a door knob in Satan's room as a Christmas present.

His face lights up, what's better than to play into the most unexpected scenario? always be one step ahead of your enemies. Satan cradles your face within his grasp, peppering it with kisses before he places a peck to the crown of your head.

"You are a genius, y/n!"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Asmodeus

With his love for all things beautiful, it comes as no surprise that Asmodeus' favorite are the holiday decorations.

It's known to all that Asmo has an eye for design; from his own phonecase business to nail painting, his entrepreneurship sees no boundaries. However, it is not always easy to be the sole provider of finesse to the kingdom of hell. Whenever Asmodeus needs help, the responses often flow between disinterest to plain out repulsion, leaving him to his lonesome. Of course, he could always charm someone into helping him, but there's a difference between forcing another to engage in your passion and have them genuinely take interest in it.

Its during breakfast that you hear Asmodeus sighing more than usual, cheek resting on his palm while his utensils mindlessly playing with the food on his plate. You seem to be the only one, as the others conveniently pay no mind to his dispirited look, seemingly fed up with his flair for dramatics.

"Hey Asmo, you okay?" you question, causing the latter to reveal a pitiful gaze, lip quivering and all. He immediately gushes on and on about the fact that it's nearly Christmas and none of his brothers appreciate the beauty of an illuminated backyard, tree, and essentially every nook and cranny you can turn festive.

You make the mistake of offering your services, not paying enough attention to the alarming glances the brothers had tried to sneak towards you. Unfortunately, you only realize the weight of this decision when Asmodeus drags you to the twenty seventh ornaments store of the day, quite literally, because he made you carry all of the bags. But it's the look of pure euphoria on his face that makes you pummel through it, and you can swear you've never seen him this happy before.

At last, you're done with the day. Asmodeus requests that you go through the park, stopping at a near bench and places the bags on it, finally ridding your tired hands off of the extra weight. "I promised Beel a holiday meal at his favorite restaurant in return for him to come and help us carry all of this home." Asmodeus grins and takes your hands in his own, gently massaging them. "I know today must have been a lot... thank you for coming with me. I don't think anyone else would've done this for me."

He's aware that he might be a piece of work sometimes, but he always ensures to make up for it with a hot bubble bath, a routine of some of his finest skin care and a sleepover full of your favorite activities. If the day was all about him, it's only fair that the night will be all about you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Beelzebub

in a very predictable revelation, Beelzebub's favorite is a good, comforting holiday meal.

If there's one thing that's been said about Beel many times before, its that he inhales any food regardless of what's in it, and so he's unaware of the decadence a well prepared meal guarantees. Beel disagrees, however. Like every other person, he has delicacies he absolutely indulges in, and others which he couldn't digest even if he tried. (For instance, Solomon's cooking.)

Your eyes pick up from the book in your hand when you sense someone's presence, taking notice of Beel hunching over you, practically drooling over the picture on the cover. "Hm? Oh, the picture making you hungry huh? Barbatos suggested to host a Christmas dinner in the demon castle and asked me to pick from this human world recipe book, do you want to help?"

You did not have to ask twice, within seconds Beel places you on his lap and flips through the pages with your aid. "This one has celery and leek, so I'm sure it would turn out delicious." Beel points to a certain dish. Surprised, you turn to face him. "What? As a professional eater, I know what flavor combinations elevate a dish."

"I had no idea." You state, smiling at him. For some reason, it makes you happy to learn that detail, most likely because you feel like learning about his interests in depth brings the two of you closer.

"Everyone think I just eat a lot because I'm always hungry, but in reality, I'm kind of a foodie. Of course, I'll never turn down a mc'devil, but my palate is refined enough to properly appreciate complexed things before I swallow them to the black hole that is my stomach." Beel mindlessly speaks out as his fingers slowly turn the pages, eyes scanning eagerly over the list of ingredients in every recipe.

"This Christmas dinner is going to be so tasty if cooked by Barbatos, but..." His glance shifts from the book towards you, fluttering over your frame before smoothly traveling back to your lips. "What I'm most excited for, is dessert."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Belphegor

Being somewhat of a homebody, Belphegor's favorite Christmas tradition is an annual Christmas movie marathon.

Whenever night approaches, knowing it's almost time to go to bed puts Belphegor in high spirits. He loves sleeping, but is less fond of everyone else being awake, resulting in him missing all of the action. In other words, it gives him comfort knowing his brothers, and you, are not leaving him out of some lively adventure while he comfortably snoozes away in his bed; in fact, he feels the best recognizing the tilt of your weight sinking the bed to his side, and your arms wrapping around him, lulling him to sleep.

"Can you pick the next one? I'm getting tired." Belphegor lifts his head from your shoulder to request. Beel is passed out besides him after eating an amount of candy that could fill three Halloween buckets and experiencing a sugar crash. The rest of the family retreated back to their rooms after the celebrations, leaving you and the twins on an exciting holiday night in that includes fuzzy socks, hot chocolate with whipped cream (courtesy of Beel) and a pile of Christmas movies. Which is all you needed, really. By the first twenty minutes of the next movie, you already chuckle at the soft, hot breaths at the shell of your ear. You pull the blanket over the both of you, accidentally waking Belphegor up from his nap.

"It's pretty late, why don't we make it a party for two in the attic?" Belphegor whispers, careful not to wake up his brother. You giggle your way into a soft bed, but the arms inviting you into their embrace are even more captivating. Locking you in his grasp, Belphegor tangles your legs together to be near you in every possible way, not allowing even one inch to part you. His fingers brush through your hair as his breath ghost over your pair, leaving the slightest distance so he can smirk at you, gaze dripping with lust.

"It's your fault for making me watch all these romantic movies, making me want you all for myself. And you being in my bed gives me all kinds of ideas." He hoists your leg over his waist. "I think that with you around, Christmas might just be my favorite holiday. Promise me we'll do that every year?"