#but I’m keeping it in the tags as to not clutter up the information with more of my senseless yapping

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

Hiiii I have a community question I wanted to ask!!

Abed mentions all sorts of movies and tv shows through out Community, but I just wanted to know if maybe you have like a list of which ones are real and which ones he seemed to like more than others.

I can only think of the dark knight because of the dvd Annie broke, and the Star Wars movies (except he apparently hates the prequels) and cougar town!

great question! sorry for the delay on a response.

so, he mentions/references an insane number of movies and tv shows throughout the series, and I unfortunately do not have a list of every single one. although, I am (VERY slowly) working on an in-depth episode-by-episode analysis of the entire series, and listing every pop culture reference is a subsection in that. but that's not helpful right now. moving on

I don't have the picture, but there's this questionnaire abed filled out (outside of the show, it must have been uploaded to a website as promotional material for the show). he says his favorite movie is a tie between:

ghostbusters (1984, comedy/horror)

an american werewolf in london (1981, horror)

back to the future (1985, sci-fi/comedy)

blade runner (1982, sci-fi/action)

stand by me (1986, adventure/comedy)

stripes (1981, comedy/war)

star wars (1977, sci-fi/fantasy, also called "a new hope")

star wars: the empire strikes back (1980, sci-fi/fantasy)

star wars: the return of the jedi (1983, sci-fi/fantasy)

ferris bueller's day off (1986, comedy/drama)

jaws (1975, thriller/adventure)

raising arizona (1987, comedy/crime)

jurassic park (1993, adventure/sci-fi)

seven (1995, crime/mystery)

the matrix (1999, action/sci-fi)

the goonies (1985, adventure/comedy)

the breakfast club (1985, comedy/romance)

real genius (1985, comedy/sci-fi)

better off dead (1985, comedy/romance)

the fog of war (2003, documentary/war)

pulp fiction (1994, crime/thriller)

(btw if anyone knows what I’m talking about and has the screenshot please rb with it! I cannot for the life of me find it lmao)

I believe this is a list he apparently made in 2009, either in the first few weeks of school or right before the school year started. so it's possible he would answer differently as the series progressed. also, I do take some of these extra-canon things with a grain of salt, as on the same form he said his favorite place on campus was study room D or something, when obviously they definitely meant to write study room F. so, the credibility of my source for this information isn't exactly rock-solid. although, he does mention a lot of these movies on screen, and expresses love for many of them (the most notable ones probably being star wars episodes IV-VI, the breakfast club, and pulp fiction)

as you can see from the list, abed particularly loves american movies from the 80's. just a trend I thought I’d point out.

here's a few others he mentions loving, or just pretty notably references:

the dark night (2008, action/crime, as you mentioned)

rudolph the red-nosed reindeer (1964, musical/animated, is the whole basis of 2x11 abed's uncontrollable christmas)

the shawshank redemption (1994, horror/crime, is the basis for his plot with troy, annie, and shirley in 4x05 cooperative escapism in familial relations)

freaky friday (I believe it's the original one from 1976 specifically, but it's been remade a bunch. comedy/fantasy. it's the basis of abed and troy's story in 4x11 basic human anatomy)

rambo/first blood (series starting in 1982, action/thriller. abed talks about how messy the progressive series titles are in 3x14 pillows and blankets)

ocean's eleven (2001, crime/thriller, the basis for the heist scene from 3x21 the first chang dynasty)

hearts of darkness (1991, documentary/war, abed mentions it while pointedly filming dean pelton's production of his greendale commercial rather than helping with the commercial itself. similarly, hearts of darkness filmed the making of apocalypse now)

apocalypse now (1979, war/action, see the above explanation)

die hard (series starting in 1988, action/thriller, abed mentions wanting to do a die hard homage for christmas multiple times throughout season 4)

good will hunting (1997, thriller/romance, troy and abed's story in 1x24 english as a second language is filled with references to this movie. abed is doing homages on purpose, troy is not)

my dinner with andre (1981, comedy/drama, abed does a very elaborate homage at jeff's accidental expense in 2x19 critical film studies)

indiana jones (raiders of the lost ark, temple of doom, and the last cruscade only. he mentions loving the first three indiana jones movies in 1x04 social psychology)

aliens (1986, action/adventure/sci-fi, he and troy dress up as an alien and ripley in 2x06 epidemiology) (side note, I believe they're specifically referencing aliens, which is a sequel to alien. could be wrong though)

blade (1998, horror/action, they watch it over the course of 3x15 origins of vampire mythology after troy and abed assert multiple times that it is an amazing movie)

I think he generally talks about movies more than he talks about tv shows, but he does mention quite a few of them. some notable mentions are:

friends (1994, sitcom, mentions at least twice)

m*a*s*h (1972, sitcom, mentions in passing in 1x05 advanced criminal law, and references throughout 1x13 investigative journalism)

the cape (2011, action, mentions throughout 4x13 advanced introduction to finality)

who's the boss (1984, sitcom, is the premise of his whole storyline in 2x20 competitive wine tasting)

LOST (2004, sci-fi, mentions at least twice)

obviously there are a LOT more, but I just tried to list some of the most important ones, plot-wise and for understanding of his character. hopefully I’ll be able to get back to everyone with a super long list of every tv show and movie he ever mentions lmao, but that'll take a while. (there are lists online that say they list every movie and tv show abed has ever mentioned, but ngl I don't 100% trust those, so I’ll make my own lmao. but I put the link to one of them if you're curious. here's another one too)

at this point anyone who has seen community knows there are some really really big ones that I haven’t mentioned yet. pieces of media that are INTEGRAL to abed as a character. I was saving them for last lmfao. they are:

kickpuncher

inspector spacetime

cougar town

if I had to pick a holy trinity of media for abed, it would be these three things. these are EASILY the things he talks about the most, which is interesting, as both the kickpuncher movie franchise and the inspector spacetime series are completely fictional, and only exist in the community universe. (this is probably so they can show abed actually watching some of the shows/movies he talks about, without the obvious copyright issues that come with playing clips from an already existing movie/tv show on your screen. they kind of do that with blade in 3x15, but they only play vague fighting sounds, and never show their tv on our screen. anyway. not relevant.) to answer one of your questions from the ask, I believe those two are the ONLY fictional pieces of media abed talks about. as far as I know, everything else he mentions is real, including cougar town.

kickpuncher is obviously reminiscent of sci-fi/action films from the 80's, like robocop. like I said earlier, taking their place so that they could have a more substantial role in abed's on-screen life without any copywrite worries. it's a whole franchise, so there are multiple movies: kickpuncher, kickpuncher 2: codename: punchkicker, kickpuncher 3: the final kickening, kickpuncher: detroit, kickpuncher: miami (?), and kicksplasher (?). kicksplasher is apparently shown as a poster on abed's wall, and I’m assuming it's from the same franchise, although that could be wrong. the point is there's a very elaborate universe for kickpuncher, and it's a big part of abed's, and later troy's, film taste. the first time they mention it is in 1x15 romantic expressionism, when abed, troy, shirley, pierce, and chang all get together in abed's dorm room to make fun of stupid movies together. it's funny that it was introduced as a stupid movie to watch ironically, then troy and abed both end up genuinely loving it lmao. classic

inspector spacetime is obviously reminiscent of doctor who. they're both british sci-fi series that have been running for decades. doctor who uses a police box to travel the multiverse, while doctor who uses a telephone box. doctor who has malicious daleks who chant "exterminate," while inspector spacetime has blorgons who shout "eradicate." the concepts of the shows are obviously the same, with the actor for the doctor changing every season, etc etc. they're essentially the same exact show, but, like I said before, changed slightly so they can world-build without getting copywrited. there is something a little bit silly about this, though. it's definitely a continuity error and it's up to everyone whether they want to accept it as canon or not, I guess, but there's an episode where abed is actually wearing a doctor who t-shirt. (it also references bill and ted, but the doctor who part is what's relevant.) here's some pictures:

awesome shirt tbh, but it is a little bit funny that is essentially makes it true that doctor who and inspector spacetime both exist in the community universe. and, these pictures are from the cold open of 4x11 basic human anatomy, which is way after inspector spacetime is introduced to the show (3x01 biology 101). so, is inspector spacetime just a rip-off of doctor who? is abed a fan of both shows? if he is, clearly he likes inspector spacetime better. anyway. I would guess that this wasn't intentional. but that is definitely a tardis on that shirt. maybe it's just a classic season 4 continuity mistake. oh well. I guess that's just how the cookie crumbles. anyway.

cougar town time! yes, it's a real show. I didn't think it was but it is. what's not real is cougarton abbey, the short-lived british remake that britta gets abed into in 3x01 biology 101. but yeah. it has 6 seasons and is streaming on hulu, if you're interested. I’ve heard it's not good but who knows for sure. something cool about cougar town is that abed is actually in an episode. let me be clear: not danny pudi. ABED. it's similar to the story abed tells about being invited to the cougar town set and shitting his pants while having an existential crisis about the layers of reality. here is a youtube clip of the scene. I found out about it while stalking danny pudi's wikipedia page months ago, you know, a typical sunday afternoon activity, and I saw a cougar town credit on there. I didn't even know it was a real show at that point so you can imagine my surprise lmao. anyway. idk if you knew that already but it's one of my favorite community easter eggs. so funny.

okay! I hope this is enough information to suit your needs, and I am once again opening the floor to anyone who wants to add anything 💯 this was fun, thanks for the ask, and stay fresh everyone ✌️

#classic sadquickchristmassnowman blunder of writing an entire goddamn essay to answer a simple fucking question #also just to be clear george lucas went back and fucked with the original star wars trilogy #so unless you really put some work in to find the original versions of the original trilogy #you won’t be watching the versions that abed loves the most #sorry my indoctrinated me into his elitist star wars opinions #but I’m keeping it in the tags as to not clutter up the information with more of my senseless yapping #anyway #community #nbc community #community nbc #abed nadir #media analysis #community encyclopedia

[dw-writes]

Angelic Rip Off - Chapter One

Summary: It didn't take much for you to be kicked from Heaven. Ask the wrong question, see the wrong person, bad place, bad time, etc. Heaven as a paradise sounded like a scam when you factored in how easy it was to fall. What a rip. Word Count: 9,649 Chapter Summary: You're booted from Heaven because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Genre: Fantasy, Romance. Slow Burn. Eventual Lucifer x Reader Warnings: Angst, swearing, mild body horror, screaming, violence. A/N: I'm actually really excited for this story!! And I'm really hoping that you guys are going to enjoy it :) Tag list at the end. Using a read more because it's very long and i dont like cluttering the tag :) Enjoy.

Chapter One

There weren’t rules about being out so late in Heaven, but it wasn’t common.

You always were a weird one.

You brushed off the thought as you walked, wings tucked close, following the winding road through the center of Humility Square. It wasn’t silent, far from it – the hum of the elevator in the distance, the quiet chatter in the Prayer Palace, the buzz of electricity, and the few people that always walked during the night.

It almost didn’t surprise you to see Adam and Lute out walking, either. They often did – claimed that it was to ‘patrol’ and ‘keep Heaven safe’ but you had a feeling it was a weird kind of date for the two of them. You almost waved but stopped yourself at the sight of Sera walking with them. The three of them were making a beeline for the Angelic Council building behind you, whispering amongst themselves.

You waved for Sera’s attention and flew to close the distance.

“Shit,” Adam muttered. Lute stiffened.

Man cannot school his features for anything.

“Is there an emergency council meeting?” you asked Sera as you approached, pulling your phone from your pocket to check. The only thing you saw was a notification from FaithBook, and no text about a council meeting.

Sera waved for the two Exorcists to go ahead, and they left with uncharacteristically little preamble. She waited until they were inside, and you watched them push the doors open. Inside the building were two figures, one drastically taller than the other, who turned when the doors opened. You tilted your head, hoping to see more details, but the doors closed before you could.

“What are you doing out so late?” Sera asked.

You frowned. “I normally take a walk this late,” you replied, crossing your arms, “It’s nice. It’s relaxing.” You glanced at the Council building again. “Should I ring the Council? Do you need anything?”

“I need you to go home,” she firmly stated.

You paused, laughed a little, frowned. “I’m a senior member of the Council, same as you. If there’s a meeting, I should be informed of it,” you said. You squeezed your arms, watching her as her eyes darted for the doors. “Not Adam, certainly not Lute. You know as well as I do that the leniency he’s gotten with his ragtag para-military group is getting dangerous, and allowing him—”

“It doesn’t involve you,” Sera cut in, holding up a hand.

You reeled back.

She flew past you, positioning herself between you and the door. “You need to leave.” You watched her turn and head inside, and she was quick to shut the doors behind her. But you could have sworn you saw two familiar faces inside.

Impossible. They can’t ever come home.

Your nightmares started that night and continued for weeks: of the brightest star in creation falling from the Heavens and taking a third of the sky with him. Lucifer’s fall was a real nightmare for you; a friend from the start, someone you made the universe with, who told you all his dreams and things he could change; who told you about Lilith, and Eve, and the apple, and what he did in a flurry of fearful tears when talks of “expulsion” first started.

Lucifer, whose brothers dragged him down silent streets in the middle of the night for an emergency council, who you followed with promises that you would help him, that you’d make sure nothing happened to him.

Lucifer, who fell from Heaven and past Earth with the woman he loved wrapped in his arms. You remembered the smell of his flesh burning as he kept her safe through the fall. You remembered your stars clinging to the edges of his feathers as he dragged them out of sight.

The whole ordeal plagued you, and it had taken centuries for the nightmares to stop.

And then, as if out of nowhere…

You walked the streets while attempting to rid the remnants of your most recent nightmare from your mind. You passed peaceful homes, the Prayer Palace, and the empty Angelic Council building, trying to rid Lucifer’s pained face from your eyes.

You turned a corner and almost ran right into Sera. You swallowed a swear, apologizing profusely, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you—”

“Why are you out?” she demanded, her voice sharp, uneven, the eyes of her hair cracking open, “Again.”

“Just out for a walk,” you slowly replied. Familiar faces walked around the corner behind her, heading back the way you’d come from, towards the Heavenly Elevator – Adam, Lilith, Lute, then Sera following behind them.

You turned around, eyes wide, staring at the familiar tall blonde.

“Lilith?” you weakly asked. She turned, her eyes flat and blank as she met your gaze. She had to have known who you were, right? You stepped closer, feeling the panic rising in your throat like sticky acid. “Lilith, what’re you—”

“Go home,” demanded Sera.

The first woman still watched you, her eyes darting over your face, familiarity slowly rising from the depths of her irises. She closed the gap between you both, grasping your hands tight between hers, pleading, “Take care of them.”

Lute’s hand pressed flat against your chest and shoved you back. Hands were torn from yours, and the four of them were gone. You stared down the road where they disappeared, your lungs seeming to shrink in your chest until your vision tunneled at the edges.

Abandoned.

You couldn’t remember how you got home, or when you fell asleep, but you were shaken away by the Exorcists breaking down your door. They dragged you out of bed with little warning and flew down the busy morning streets with you locked between their arms until they kicked down the doors of the Angelic Council and threw you inside.

You remembered being on the other end of your situation – when you stormed in after Lucifer, watching them sling accusations that had no merit – and you trembled when the same words were shouted down at you from the Council.

“Traitor!”

“Snake!”

“Liar!”

You rose to your feet, holding your hands out in front of you as your wings lifted you to be level with the Council. “Wait, what’s going on!” you demanded, “What are my charges?! Why am I here!?” You tilted your head back to look up at Sera in the top bench. “Sera?”

She folded her hands in front of her, declaring your name for the Council to hear. “You’ve been accused of treason, and of conspiring with Hell to lead a rebellion against Heaven,” she stated, “How do you plea?”

You dropped your arms, watching her, your chest tightening all over again as you whimpered out a faint, “What?” Your eyes darted across the familiar faces of the Council as your face tingled with adrenaline.

“How do you plea?” Sera demanded again.

You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry. Your ears rang. You couldn’t think. You shook your head. “Not guilty, you know that!”

“Do we?” hissed a voice on your left, one pushed through an Exorcist mask you couldn’t recognize.

“There’s evidence,” came another voice on your right, from another mask and another nameless Exorcist.

You’ve failed.

You couldn’t argue as the evidence was read. Weeks and weeks of incidents, of things you know you never did, would never do, could never do, and yet there was evidence being read and being played and being presented that made you out to be the next Great Rebel of Heaven.

Weeks of them.

What a coincidence.

You looked up at Sera, your eyes pricking with tears. “Is this because of who I saw?” you whispered.

She didn’t move.

“Are you framing me?” you rasped.

“Hard to frame you when there’s so much evidence, babe,” Adam commented from his box seat.

Sera rose from her seat. “Is this all you have to say in your defense?” she asked, “That this is a ‘frame job’?”

You swallowed, then nodded.

She waved her hand. “Then this court finds you guilty and moves for immediate exile.”

It was a blur – the streets were cleared as you were dragged from the Council building, limp in the arms of the Exorcists, trembling harder as the gate grew closer and closer.

“Sera, you know this isn’t true!” you begged as you were led to the expulsion point of Heaven. You glanced down through the hole, your throat closing at the distance between you and Earth and the pinpoint that would be Hell further past it. You turned back to Sera, your eyes burning. “Sera, please—”

“Shut your mouth, traitor!” the familiar voice of Lute cut through Sera’s loud silence. Her hand shoved hard against your chest and sent you over the edge. Gravity sucked you through and sent you careening through existence.

It hurt. The heat against your back, the yanking of your feathers from your wings, the cutting of the wind and the dirt and ice as you passed Earth and entered the atmosphere of Hell.

The last thing you saw before you hit the ground were the few stars that you dragged from the skies with you.

Stolas thought the light that flashed in the sky was just those pesky Exorcists leaving Hell again, after their most recent attack on the Sinners of the Pride ring. It was enough for him to consider moving – it would be safer for Octavia, at the very least.

However, his feathers ruffled as the light grew closer and closer to his manor, and he threw his hand in front of his face as it became too blinding to look at.

The ground rumbled, and he lost his footing. He was quick to stand, running from the room and peaking in on an equally startled Octavia to ensure she was alright. A screeching from the upper floors informed him that Stella was, at the very least, unharmed. The Prince slowed his travels through the manor until he opened the front door.

His yard was destroyed – it would take months of work to get it back to its pristine landscaping – by the massive crater that sat in the middle. It smoldered, and something sharp assaulted his senses as he crept closer.

Wings peeked out at odd angles from the crater.

“Octavia?” he called as he quickly descended upon the crater, “Call for a medic!”

Word spread, and quickly, once a private medical team had been dispatched to the manor. Asmodeus was the first to arrive – a concerned friend, of course, but one who couldn’t stop talking when he had rung Satan up. He called Bee, who called Mammon, who bribed Bel to show up at the gates of the manor.

“Why’re we here?” asked the sin of Sloth, who yawned and stretched, smacking his lips together, “Woke me from a nap.”

“Like you have anything better to do,” Mammon argued, leaning over the smaller man. He leaned back after a moment. “Actually, you have any outstanding bills? Anything from your patients that I can kindly take care of?” he asked with a slimy grin.

Bel eyed him for a moment, then pulled out his phone. “Yeah. We’ve got a list. You pay ‘em, I can help more people, and you can do as you please to get your money back,” he said with a sigh, “If you want.”

“Why’re we here, Ozzie?” Bee asked.

Asmodeus waved to a van parked inside of the manor gate. “Heard from F—” He coughed, thumping his chest with his fist, “Heard from a friend of a friend that there was private doctor called.”

Bee arched an eyebrow. “Friend of a friend?” she questioned.

“Yes,” Ozzie hissed back. He turned, waving at an approaching figure, “Anyone call Levi?”

“She can’t make it, apparently,” replied the last sin, Satan, causing Mammon to jump. He grinned a familiar pointed grin, tilting his head. “What? Scare you?”

“Fuckin’ hate that you look like Lucifer, you know,” swore Greed, scooting away from him, “You might not be blonde, but doesn’t make a fuckin’ difference from the side.”

“Speaking of, is he comin’?’ asked Satan.

“Sent me to voice mail,” replied Bee, “Twice.”

“So, why we here?” asked Bel, rubbing his neck, “Seriously.”

“Well—”

“Why,” cut in the high screech of the Lady Stella, “Are there people LINGERING at my GATE?”

The door of the manor opened not one moment later, a frazzled Prince looking out, and making eye contact with the Sins at his stoop. He stepped out, rubbing his hands together, frowning. “Not that I don’t mind visitors,” he said, “But you’ve impeccable timing with something fragile.”

“Ozzie called us here,” Bee tattled, pointing to the mammoth man closest to the gates, “Said a friend told him that a doctor was called?”

Stolas stopped short of the gate, closing his eyes to an ache that grew behind them. He’d hung up on Blitzø when the doctors had arrived, and he’d said as much. He wasn’t surprised that the news somehow made its way back to Ozzie. Most probably through a one-off frantic phone call to Fizz. Or an attempt one.

While it warmed him from beak to talon, it caused too many issues.

“Well?” asked Mammon, stepping closer to the gates, craning his neck to and fro, “What happened? You finally kill the bitch?”

“Really?” sighed Bel.

Stolas pulled open a smaller door to the side of the grandiose wrought iron entrance. “Well, since you’re here,” he tittered, “I could use advice.”

Advice appeared in the form of being ushered through the winding halls of the Goetia manor, to a small back room meant to serve as servant’s quarters.

And to you.

Carefully laid upon a threadbare mattress was you. You were face down on a series of already stained towels, your leg set in a hasty cast, and your arms wrapped in splotchy bandages. The biggest concern, which made the Sins fall silent, were the six wings that the paramedics were quickly working to stabilize and bandage. One of them, a siren, would occasionally stop and rub your shoulder, whispering a song in his low bass that quieted your whimpers. The second paramedic, a lanky spider demon with needle sharp fingers, expertly wove your bandages in place with medical grade silk slung over her shoulder.

“What happened?” murmured Satan, shoving his hands deep into his pockets to hide his tightening fists.

“A star fell from Heaven, could you believe it?” Stolas sighed. He rubbed his temple, his eyes following the intricate webbing of your bandages.

“Cut the shit with the metaphors, Stolas,” huffed Bel, “What happened?” He stepped closer to keep an eye on the medics.

“Would you believe me if I said I was serious?” Stolas replied. He turned to them, blocking your form with a lift of his caped shoulders. “An angel fell in my front yard,” he hissed.

He blinked when a flash went off next to his face, squeezing them shut and rubbing them with his fists. “Wha—”

“We need to tell Lucifer,” Satan said as he stepped away, sending the picture he’d taken through a message that Stolas couldn’t see.

“Wait a moment, this is a delicate situation,” Stolas argued.

Ozzie held up a hand, hesitated, then gently placed it on the Prince’s shoulder. “How many fallen angels have you heard of landing in Hell?” he asked.

“O-One, Ozzie, but—”

“Augh, fuck!” Satan snapped, dropping his head back, “Fuckin’ message won’t go through. Can someone’s inbox be full? I haven’t ever heard of that!”

“Someone’s gotta go over there,” Bel sighed, rubbing his neck.

The Sins exchanged looks. Bee raised a hand. “I vote Levi,” she said.

“I also vote Levi,” seconded Mammon, “Bitch avoids us, she gets to go meet with the big guy.”

“First thing is the angel needs to heal,” cut in the siren medic, wandering over as his partner finished with your wings, “Anyone attempts to move our patient, and I will personally come after them, do you understand?”

Bee tilted her head, nodding, then patted Ozzie’s shoulder and headed for the door.

Mammon sneered at the siren, “Are you threatening a Sin?”

“Protecting a patient,” Bel argued absently, trailing after Bee.

“Calm down, Mammon, it’s not that deep,” interrupted Ozzie. He ushered the King of Greed out of the room and after the rest of the Sins. “Stolas,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “What do you need?”

Stolas looked between him and the medics that were finishing aligning your wings in a way that would allow them to heal properly, then at the Sin he could almost call a friend. “Would you like to explain to my wife what’s happening?” he drawled.

Ozzie clapped the Prince’s shoulder so hard he stumbled forward. “Perks of marriage, my feathered friend!” Ozzie crowed, grinning as he turned away, “Anything else, though, and you know how to find me.”

Stolas sighed, turning back to watch the medics finish their job. “If you manage to get a meeting with the King of Pride, Asmodeous,” Stolas called over his shoulder.

The door leading out into the hall creaked. Stolas squeezed his elbows and turned, watching Ozzie’s shoulders sag with a sigh. “You’ll be the first I call,” replied the King of Lust. He nodded to Stolas and left the room.

Taking a breath, the Prince turned back to the medics for information on your condition. They explained that you would need assistance with everything while you were healing, until they returned in a few weeks to check the base of your wings for stability. After that, you could move on your own, then they’d remove your casts and you could work on getting your wings in order.

“I trust that silence is something we could trust on this matter?” Stolas asked, eyeing your prone body as the medics shuffled past him.

“Of course,” replied the spider demon, “Boss would kill us if we breeched oath.”

Stolas felt a thread unravel in his back as he sighed. “Thank you.” Then, he turned before they left. “I’ll ensure payment is sent to you before day’s out.”

As the weeks passed, you slept, dreaming of the fall, of the trial, of the memories of creation that came before.

You had all of that, and you let it go.

A memory swam up to meet the voice of doubt, as though summoned from the depths.

You pulled yourself up to the edge of the gate surrounding Eden, eyes darting around the trees in search of movement that wasn’t an animal. “Did Michael say what a human was?” you asked, setting your chin on your arms.

You folded your wings against your back as your partner in crime hauled himself up next to you, grunting as he leaned on the top of the gate. “No,” Lucifer answered, huffing, “Just that Dad was making them soon. Two, he said, so they wouldn’t be alone.”

“Wonder if they’ll have tails?” you asked, “Or, wings!”

Lucifer snorted, burying his mouth in his arms to muffle his laughter. “He said they were like the monkeys,” he said, setting his chin on his fist, watching you with a smile, “But he didn’t say anything else beside that.”

“That doesn’t mean much, there’s so many monkeys and monkey adjacent creatures. Michael even made a few, you know, so I don’t trust his opinion on this,” you muttered, “You convince him to let you add the ducks?”

“It’s so difficult!” Lucifer hissed, dropping his hand, “He said Dad has to approve of them being added to the Garden!”

“And?”

“And I haven’t seen him in a while, so I can’t ask,” he huffed.

You kicked your feet behind you, setting your cheek on your arms as you watched him. “Is that why you wanted to come with me? To see if you could ask him yourself?” you asked.

He pursed his lips, looking anywhere but you, and finally smiled. “Maybe.”

“Luci, you used me!” you gasped, pushing away from the gate, your wings fluttering behind you. “I’m wounded! My heart is broken!” He laughed at your dramatics, catching your arms as you drifted past him.

“Stop that, you know that’s not the only reason why,” he said, pulling you back up to the top of the gate, “You gotta be quiet. If the guard catches us, we’ll be in trouble with Michael.”

You leaned on the gate as you watched him. “Because we’re not supposed to be spying on the little Earth project, right?” you muttered. You returned to your previous position, staring out into the vast array of trees that creaked and groaned as they grew. “I’m making a new constellation today. Do you wanna help?”

“Of course.” A hand slapped against your shoulder, pointing through the trees to a familiar tall figure near the center of the garden. He molded the dirt at his feet, building it up and up and up, sculpting features into it until, once satisfied, he breathed into the figure’s molded mouth.

Lilith.

You opened your eyes.

Wide red eyes were inches from your face, partially hidden beneath a dark fringe of styled feathers. The owner choked on a squawk and scrambled back, knocking over a tray that clattered noisily in the silent room.

“Via? Are you alright?” came a voice from somewhere past your feet. The young owlet scrambled away and disappeared out of sight, leaving you alone for a moment to regain your boundaries.

“Angel’s awake,” replied a smaller voice.

You shifted your arm beneath you and pushed yourself up, gasping as weight pressed against your back unkindly. Your eyes pricked with tears as you dropped back onto the bed. The skin around your wings seared with white hot pain.

Thin arms looped around your front and readjusted you. “Careful, my dear, you’ve suffered terrible injuries,” whispered the first voice. A cool rag dabbed your face and neck and trailed down to sooth the burn between your wings. “Octavia! Call the medics please. Inform them our patient is awake.”

“Where am I?” you rasped.

A hand brushed over your face and fixed a straw against your lips. “Drink. You’ve been unconscious for a long time, you need to drink properly,” he said.

You did as you were told. The first few swallows hurt, but you quickly finished the glass and waited for him to fetch you another. “Who are you?”

You watched the tall owl man hesitate as he refilled your glass at the edge of your vision. He stirred the ice in the glass with the straw as he moved back to your side. “My name is Stolas,” he said slowly as he sat again, “I am a Prince of the Ars Goetia, and you are in my manor in Hell.” He held the straw up to your lips again. “Specifically, the Pride Ring,” he added.

Your eyes burned for another reason. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your cheek against the pillow.

“I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear,” Stolas whispered as he smoothed a hand over your hair and down your neck.

Fell all the way to Hell. Broken. Rock bottom. You deserve it.

He set the glass aside and picked up a tissue from the table, dabbing your eyes. “You’re alright. I know the best doctors – they’ve been keeping an eye on you and they’re on their way now that you’re awake,” he murmured.

“I don’t understand,” you hiccupped, shifting to rub your tears on the pillow, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Stolas squeezed your neck lightly, leaning back out of your view for a moment. “Oh,” he gasped, a smile in his voice, “Here, this is my daughter, Octavia.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you looked up. The owlet from before stood next to Stolas, fidgeting with her sleeves. You tried to keep the burning tears from crowding your eyes as you gave her a smile. “Hi.”

It wasn’t long before the medics arrived, and they ushered Stolas and Octavia out of the room to tend to you. They carefully removed your wings from the contraption they’d set up to let them heal, then removed the bandages to check your burns and injuries. They dressed your wounds in freshly spun wraps and gave you instructions on how to stretch your wings and gain strength back in all your limbs. Stolas lingered, being sure to listen to any instructions.

“If you need anything, give us a call,” said the siren demon, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“There’s medication left with the Prince, to assist with your pain,” added the spider demon as she tied the last of your bandages, “It’s all you get, alright?”

You nodded, wrapping a blanket around your back to squeeze your wings against you. It ached, like trying to shake feeling back into your arm, but you needed it. The two accepted a roll of cash, then paused at the door before disappearing out of sight.

Bel rounded the corner, leaning on the door frame.

Stolas stiffened as he sat next to you but waved a hand. “This is Belphegor,” he murmured, “King of Sloth.”

You were quiet in your introduction, and Bel nodded.

“Heard you were awake,” he said, tilting his head, “Good. I overheard them tell you everything about your condition, and that you need to be careful.” He pushed away from the door and held out a small bottle of pills. “For the pain,” he said when you stared at it, “A little better than what they gave you, Stolas.” You gingerly accepted the bottle and nodded.

“Not that the house call isn’t appreciated, Sir,” Stolas murmured, “But what brings you by?”

Bel smiled. “Letting you know personally that I couldn’t get a meeting,” he said, shrugging one shoulder, “Figured, but I thought I’d try.”

The Prince nodded, and stood to show him out, then returned to your side with a sigh.

The following months were rough. Stella glared at you every time she saw you limping around the manor, so you kept to the three halls that led to the servant’s quarters where you slept. You often heard her and Stolas in screaming matches about why you were there, that he was keeping you as some sex toy, and he would bring up your physical state multiple times. It was frustrating. It made you angry that someone’s kindness could be taken in such a way. It sat in your chest and kept you up at night long after the screaming stopped.

When you were able to start putting more weight on your leg and test your wings, Octavia would follow you like a shadow. She’d ask you questions as you practiced your steps and carried her books to regain a modicum of strength, both from curiosity at the fact that an angel crashed into her home and about what you did in Heaven.

“I made stars,” you said as you sat on the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you.

Her already wide eyes grew, and she sat cross legged across from you. “Can you tell me?” she whispered, pulling her knees up to hug them. “You know, my dad’s specialty is astronomy. It’s what a lot of his magic focuses on.”

“Really?” You smiled. “Funny that I crashed here, then.”

“Can you tell me a story about them?” she asked.

So many stories.

You nodded.

There was one story you knew you wanted to tell. It was you and Lucifer, leaning over the parchment and trying to decide which stars needed to go over the Garden.

“What do you think will be the best?” he asked as he flipped through the designs, “It’s gotta be perfect.”

“For Lilith?” you teased.

His eyes snapped up to yours, his cheeks glowing pink. You scrunched your nose at him, trying not to smile too large at his embarrassment. “She’s pretty,” you said.

He swooned, rolling onto his back. “She’s beautiful,” he sighed.

You tapped his forehead with your finger. “C’mon. We have to decide on these constellations and you can pick the one that goes right over the Garden,” you said.

Lucifer sat up. “I know which one!”

“The duck?” you asked with a smile.

“The—” he pouted at you, “Not now.” You laughed. “Besides, I messed up that design, remember? Its neck is too long,” he said.

You flipped through the pages until you found it, tilting your head at the layout of the very specific stars you both had picked for it. “A swan is what Michael called it,” you commented.

Lucifer snorted, waving his hand, rolling onto his back again, his wings spread wide beneath him. “Stupid name,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes and took the papers, rolling next to him. His swings folded into his back, as did yours, and you laid shoulder to shoulder with him as you threw the papers into the air. The many constellations you’d made stuck to the space above your heads. “Okay, which one,” you asked, looking between them, “Which ones would you want to see if you got to star gaze with her?”

He choked next to you, sitting up to cough, and you watched him. He met your gaze eventually.

You were stupid.

It wasn’t hard to read his intentions in his eyes. You’d known him long enough to be able to read every single thought that lingered in his stare no matter how long you watched him. You knew every plan he had to head down to the garden, and you did nothing.

You smiled, instead.

“Which ones?” you asked again.

He flopped back, sighing, and finally grinned. He guided stars into place where they’d be brightest above Eden, and you pulled him from the ground to fill in the rest, until the two of you were surrounded by a globe of light.

“What were the stars above Eden?” Octavia asked.

You blinked the memory of Lucifer’s smile out of your eyes and looked over. She still sat in front of you, where you stretched your legs, watching you a wide and curious stare.

You smiled. “Depends on the time of year, time of day,” you said, “Scorpio rises in the morning, along with Taurus, and Leo. And Aquarius marks the winter solstice.

“Via?” came Stolas’s voice from around the corner. You looked up, waving as Octavia scrambled to her feet and jogged towards his voice. “Oh, you didn’t have to…” He trailed off as he appeared in the hall. He was quick to meet you, kneeling as he held out his hands. “Do you need help?”

“No,” you said, “I was hurting, actually. Wanted to stretch.”

Stolas sat just behind your toes, stretching his own legs on either side of yours, and offered you his hands. You smiled, taking them, and he gently pulled you forward. “Should we call the medics back?” he asked as he pulled you carefully, “I can. Bel is rather good about making sure they come with everything they need for you.”

“King of Sloth,” you said, nodding, “Right. I remember him.” You tilted your head as you stretched towards your legs, relaxing the tension in your back. “He mentioned a meeting?” you asked.

Stolas squeezed your hands. “Uh, right,” he said, clearing his throat, “A meeting with the King of Pride.” He waved a hand towards you and coughed again, “Considering what happened, we thought it was important that he know.”

“Luci,” you whispered after a long moment. You released his hands and sighed. “Lucifer,” you repeated.

“Right,” he agreed with a curious tilt of his head, “Strange to hear him referred to in such a casual manner, of course.”

You smiled. You drew your legs up as you leaned on them, and felt the weight of your wings slowly sinking into your back. Stolas sat up, a bright look on his face. “Look at that,” he pointed out, “You’re making pro—”

“Have you been able to set up a meeting with him?” you cut in. Your face warmed at you interrupting him, and you apologized. “Sorry,” you murmured.

The prince’s excitement shrank into a faint smile. “Sorry,” he apologized in kind, “I haven’t. Rather difficult to even get in contact with him.”

You shook your head. “It’s alright.” Then, you sighed. “I’ll do my best to get out of your hair soon enough, Stolas,” you commented, “I’d hate to keep causing problems.”

“Nonsense,” he said, shaking his head. He stood and offered his hand, which you took, and hauled you off the floor. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to,” he continued, “Stella be dammed.”

He helped you piece together a proper identity in Hell over the many weeks that followed – worked through the proper paperwork a new denizen would need when they arrived, got you a phone, clothes, and even said he could find you a job, if you wanted it.

You laughed a little as you programed Octavia’s number into your phone. She leaned over to make sure you got the picture of her and her dad to use as her contact photo. You even showed her to approve it. “What happened to taking it slow?” you asked as you handed Stolas your phone.

He was quick to add his own number, and continued to add Bel, and a few other numbers you were unsure of. “Well, you’ve been making such progress, I almost forgot you were hurt,” he mused. He handed the phone back. You scrolled through the names. Bel, Levi, Ozzie, Luci with a star next to it, Satan, Via, Stolas, Bee, Blitzy. You didn’t know half of them, but he must have had a reason to include them in your phone.

“Thank you,” you said, tapping the phone on the table, then stood. “I’m gonna go for a walk? Via, you wanna join me?”

“Su—”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Stolas asked nervously. Via wilted next to you. “I-I mean…”

You patted her head and smiled. “It’s okay. We can do something later, okay, V?” you asked.

She smiled at that, nodding, and you picked up the phone. “I’m going for a walk then,” you said, shoving it in your pocket.

Stolas’s feathers bristled. “Be careful then, if you don’t want to stay,” he said, “And be safe, and call—”

“I’ll be okay,” you hurried to say. You patted Octavia’s head as you walked past her.

You were quick to leave the study, sticking to the back halls and waving at the butler when you saw him, until you slipped out through the back door that was almost always unlocked. You pulled your phone back out of your pocket once you were outside, and searched for a map of the Pride Ring, then of Pentagram City, and you started to walk. The light from your screen hurt your eyes the longer you stared at the tiny image, and mixed with the low red ambient light of the sky and the yellow-white glow from the distant portal to Heaven made it worse. You adjusted your map once you were done messing with your eyes, following the streets out of the east section of the map and looking around.

You lowered your arm, gripping your phone as you stared at the Heaven Embassy a few blocks away.

They framed you.

You rubbed your neck, swallowing down the rage that boiled in your throat, looking down as your phone buzzed.

You could push it. Fight back.

A text appeared at your notification bar.

“It’s Satan,” it read, “Wanna talk?”

“How’d you get my number?” you asked as you followed the road away from the Embassy.

“All that rage you got is like a beacon,” he quickly replied, “And I asked Stolas.”

“Right.” You shouldered past a few Sinners as they talked on a corner, and watched a car zoom past to go down towards the southern exit of the Pentagram.

“Want company?” came the next message.

You stopped at a light, staring at it, then hit the automated reply of, “Yes” before shoving the phone in your pocket.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” said a man to your right.

You looked up, blinking at the man next to you. He smiled, tilting his head. His brown hair wasn’t styled in the same slicked back way, but more relaxed, with pieces hanging in his golden eyes. He wore a red suit jacket, opened to show the black and grey pinstripe shirt that was partially unbuttoned beneath it, and black slacks that matched his shirt. He had the same relaxed smile, and the same tilt to his head, and you had to rub your eyes to finish taking him in without seeing a blonde standing in his place.

“Satan, right?” you asked when you finally dropped your hands.

“Right on one,” he replied. He waved a hand ahead when the light turned green, and the two of you walked across the street. “You’ve been the talk of the town, angel,” he mused.

You gave him your name. He repeated it.

Sounds just like him.

“Get it out,” he teased as he led you down the street.

“You look just like Luci,” you blurted. He laughed, throwing his head back with the sound. “It’s unnerving!”

“It’s an evolution, actually,” he said when his laughter passed, “Since we get mistaken all the time up there.”

“But you’re the King of Wrath?” you asked.

“The one and only,” he answered with a smile, “And, I figured, I’m the best one to keep you from losing out to those thoughts.”

You tilted your head. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s not productive to give in to them,” he mused, “You lose every other thought, and you lose your sense of self.” He arched an eyebrow. “It’s okay to give in when it allows you to propel yourself forward.”

“You’re awfully introspective for a King of Sin,” you said.

“I will try not to take offense to that,” he laughed.

You smiled, hugging your sides as you walked. “You said I was the talk of the town?” you asked.

Satan motioned for you to turn a corner, and you did. “Oh, yeah. When you crash landed in Stolas’s front yard, we all saw you. Well, most, Levi and Luci weren’t there for some reason.” He tilted his head, “Ozzie’s fuckin’ thrilled to meet you. Same with Bee. Bel already had the pleasure, and Mammon is on the fence.”

“And Levi and Luci?”

Satan’s pace slowed. “Levi’s a hard sell. She’s not really fond of anyone, if I’m being honest,” he replied, “And no one’s seen Lucifer for about a year.”

You frowned.

Maybe he’s dead.

“Why’s that?” you asked.

He hummed, keeping a leisurely pace as the two of you walked. “Rumor is because his wife disappeared,” he quietly answered, “No one knows for sure, though.”

Lilith. In heaven. She’s in heaven.

You stopped. “Hey, uh, you’re above the Goetia, right?” you suddenly asked.

Satan turned to you, brow furrowed. “Yeah. Why?”

“So, it’d be easier for you to set up a meeting with Lucifer if you needed it?” you continued.

He rocked back on his heels, nodding with a slow smile. “That I can,” he said, “I’ll even escort you myself.”

“You would?”

“Absolutely,” he said, winking. His smile turned wicked and he hooked his arm through yours. “C’mon. We’ll go now.”

“What!” You tugged your arm free, stumbling off the curb, “No! I—I cannot see him right now, but I—”

“Why not?” Satan stared down at you, sliding his hands into his pockets as he watched you, “‘s not like you did something wrong to get here, right?”

Traitor.

“No,” you answered, rubbing your arms, “Just not ready.” You swallowed, squeezing your elbows, then sighed. “Thanks for walking with me. I’m going home.”

“Want me to—”

You held up a hand. “I can walk myself, thank you, Satan,” you replied with a smile. He nodded. “Have a good night.”

“Hey,” he called before you got too far. You looked back. “Find me in the Wrath Ring if you wanna talk, alright?” He waved a hand. “Elevator’s out the southern gate. We can hit Luci’s on the way back,” he said with a sly smile.

You nodded. “Yeah. Alright.”

Your phone beeped before you got too far, and you glanced at the screen. A text from Satan flashed across the top, with an address disappearing in the tiny message field. You opened it as pulled it up on the map to see it was the address for a gym in the Wrath Ring.

You smiled, shoved your phone into your pocket, and went home.

It took you a while before you contacted him again – weeks of testing your wings around the cramped halls, sitting in the library with Stolas while he gossiped, hiding in the study with Via when her parents started screaming again.

When one particular screaming match got too loud, you asked if she wanted to head out of the house with you.

She shook her head. “No,” she mumbled, “I’ll be alright here. I’ve got the new VoxTek headphones, they work wonders.”

You nodded. “You call me if it gets too bad, alright?”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

You stood, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “Uh,” you trailed off, staring at it, then gave her a small smile, “I’m gonna go see a friend.”

She nodded. “Alright,” then she sighed and tried to smile, too, “Be careful.”

You hugged her gently and made sure she knew to call you if she needed you before you left.

Leaving a babe to the wolves.

You slowed as you walked away from the house, glancing back with second thoughts, but kept heading for the closest bus station. It didn’t cost much to catch a bus out of Pentagram City – you had to show your I.D., prove you weren’t a sinner before you were allowed on the bus – and it was a short ride to the Elevator. A ticket down was another small price, as was the ticket in the Wrath Ring to get where you were going, but it wasn’t terrible.

You would have to thank Stolas later for allowing you to use his card places. And think of a way to pay him back.

Once you were close to the address of the gym, you sent a text to Satan.

He was at the stop when your bus pulled up. His suit was burgundy. You had to rub your eyes to clear the image of his blonde twin from them.

“Coulda told me you were on your way,” he mused as you approached.

You shrugged and took his offered arm. “It was kind of a whim,” you said, “Needed to get out of the house.”

“Not all great in paradise?” he asked.

You snorted. “Paradise doesn’t exist anymore, Satan,” you murmured.

He squeezed your arm and steered you towards a squat building between two high rises. “You know how to fight?” Satan asked as he held the door open for you.

You ducked under his arm, glancing around the dingy gym, then up at him. “A little. But I’m pretty rusty.”

“Oh, we can get you back into tip top shape here,” Satan mused. He stepped past you, whistling as he led you through the gym. You passed a few rings, some with groups that were teaching each other, some with sparing matches, and one with someone fighting with a robot jester. You paused at that, staring curiously, and hurried after Satan before he got too far.

There was a bag hanging in a back corner, next to an office, and he stopped there, shedding his coat and rolling up his sleeves.

He looks so much like him.

“Do you need to change?” Satan asked as he wrapped an arm around the bag, watching you, “Or did you come ready?”

You flapped your hands, looking down at your sweatshirt and shorts, then back up at him. “Ready?” you asked.

He grinned, then slapped the bag. “Alright!” he exclaimed, “Here’s the thing about anger, there’s not one correct way to redirect it. But, giving in and just going into a blind rage doesn’t benefit anyone.” He leaned around the bag, slowly circling you. “Take it from me. Or you, you’ve had those moments, haven’t you?”

“Is that why you asked me to come here?” you asked.

“Oh, no, that’s not the only reason,” he said with a shrug, “We also needed another pretty face around here besides Sizzler.”

You would have been flattered if you weren’t confused. “Sizzler?”

He threw an arm around your shoulder and turned you, pointing to the robot jester. “Satan’s Fizzbot, A.K.A. my Fizzbot, A.K.A Sizzler,” he explained.

The jester, Sizzler, looked up and waved. You waved back.

Satan squeezed your shoulders and turned you back towards the bag. “So,” he said, his voice dropping into a familiar tone that threw you off, “I can tell you’re holding back something.” He curled his hand towards his chest like he was holding water. “It’s boiling in there. Or freezing. Hard to pinpoint with you. But you’re angry.” He whispered the last voice in your ear.

Traitor.

You swallowed the words.

“What is it, hm? What’s the thing that’s got you rocking on the edge of a completely red black-out?” he cooed.

Traitor.

Your eyes fluttered as a memory snuck up from the back of your mind, one that set your teeth together and hurt your jaw.

You remembered Gabriel flying around Heaven to find you, and barreling into your back when he did. He was babbling, squeezing your arms and pulling you down a road.

“Gabriel, what’s happening?” you finally managed to get in.

He was teary, and ichor dotted his face. “Michael’s beating the shit out of Lucifer,” he whispered, panting, “Dad’s busy and Luci did something and Dad told Michael to take care of it and Michael’s beating the shit out of him!”

“Where.”

Gabriel hauled you after him, flying far faster than you could keep up with, until he brought you to a group of angels. You shoved your way through them and caught a panting Lucifer as he was thrown to the side. You both collapsed, you holding Luci up as his legs buckled under him.

Michael towered over the both of you, chest heaving, his right hand clenched tight at his side. His knuckles dripped gold.

“Do you understand what you’ve done?” Michael hissed, bending at the waist to stare into his brother’s face. “Do you understand?” he breathlessly repeated.

Lucifer swallowed, bracing a hand against your forearm as he tried to get his feet under him.

“Father has restart with a new first woman for Adam because you can’t keep your hands to yourself!” Michael’s voice rose until he was screaming.

“Luci, what did you do?” you whispered.

He glanced at you for a split second, then returned his gaze to Michael. “She doesn’t want to be with him,” he rasped.

“And who told her that she has another choice?!”

“She shouldn’t have to be with him if she doesn’t want to!” Lucifer shouted back.

Michael grabbed the front of Luci’s robes and hauled him off you. “She won’t be allowed here because she directly disobeyed Father’s rules!!” Michael’s voice boomed around the crowd, “And you’ve dammed her to roam or be anywhere else but here!”

“How is that fair!?” Lucifer snapped, “She doesn’t want to be with Adam and now she can’t even fucking leave?!”

He was dropped at your feet. The ring of angels around you all stepped back. Michael stared down at his brother with barely contained frustration. “There is no fair, Lucifer,” he flatly replied, “There’s Father’s rule, and it is not to be broken.”

He proved him wrong, didn’t he?

“Well?” Satan’s teasing growl snapped you back to the gym, “What is it?” He tapped your temple and moved around to the bag. “C’mon,” he sang, “I can feel it brewing in there.”

You swallowed. Your back and shoulders ached and it took you a minute to realize you were tensing at the memory. You rubbed your neck with both hands. “What do I do to deal with it?” you asked.

Satan braced against the back of the bag and smacked a worn section of it with a grin. “Hit it. Hard as you can. And we’ll go from there.”

The last few months of your first year in Hell were spent in a pattern – wake up, talk with Via, talk with Stolas, go for a walk, head to Wrath, avoid thinking about how you still weren’t able to see Lucifer, listen to the nagging thoughts continue to echo in your head until they manifested in gold stains on your hand wraps.

Traitor.

Liar.

How cowardly you must be to hide what happened from him.

You stared at your swollen knuckles as you shuffled to the library one evening, rubbing an ache from between your fingers that you pretended wasn’t also building behind your eyes. Meeting Stolas in the library was a change from your spiraling pattern – he’d asked you to meet him once you’d returned from Wrath, and you were quick to clean yourself up before joining him.

He perked up as you entered the room, standing and waving you over to the large window behind his desk. It was covered in pillows and soft blankets, and a tray of tea was waiting on the desk nearby.

“Oh, you’re in time,” he cooed, his smile dropping as he took your hands. “What is that Satan doing to you?”

You wiggled your fingers in his grasp. “I’m doing it to myself,” you muttered. You cleared your throat and waved towards the window. “What’s this?” you asked.

Stolas skittered past you, waving at the set up. “Oh, this!” he chirped, “I thought we could sit through the extermination together.” He smiled, his shoulders hunching up hopefully. “Try to pass it as best as friends are able,” he added.

You watched him, tearing up a little, and finally smiled. “I’d like that,” you whispered.

He ushered you to the window and lifted the blanket for you to sit. You took it from him and covered your legs, sinking back into the plush pillows behind you. He picked up the tea and hurried back to you with a cheerful smile. “You know, it’s been one year since you’ve arrived in Hell.”

You looked up and took the cup of tea he offered you. “Has it?”

“That it has,” he cooed. He sat next to you, lifting the edge of the blanket to tuck his legs next to yours. He filled the opposite corner and looked out the window. “Well, almost. You arrived after it was over.”

“So, not quite a year,” you teased.

Stolas smiled. “We could count it down,” he mused. His smile faltered when you looked away. “Sorry,” he was quick to apologize.

“Don’t be,” you murmured. You sipped your tea slowly and watched the portal open in the distance. “I don’t understand,” you whispered, “I really don’t understand.”

“The exterminations?” he asked. You nodded. “I’m not too knowledgeable of them myself,” he sighed, adjusting his feet, tucking his knees up and his feet next to your thigh. “From what I understand, they’ve been going on for centuries, indiscriminate. Only recently did people notice that they went from killing everyone they could in an hour to only killing Sinners.”

“Recently?” you asked.

He nodded. “It was actually the extermination that occurred when you arrived,” he said, tilting his head, “That was the first that had been exclusive to the Pride Ring.”

There was a silence as you stared at him, trying to piece together what he was saying.

What did you do?

“Luci let this happen?” you quietly asked, “Just let people die?”

Stolas didn’t speak. He stood up, instead, folding the blanket into your lap, and padded over to his desk in the library. He tugged open the bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of amber alcohol from it. He returned to his spot, wiggled the cork out with his beak, and tipped a little into your tea.

“I don’t think he had much of a choice, dear,” he whispered. He topped his own tea off and set the bottle on the ground, tucking his legs back under the blanket. “From my position, and this is just a guess, of course, I don’t think even Hell has the power to argue when a Heavenly platoon drops from the sky, armed to the teeth, and killing anyone they can while avoiding my front yard.” He sipped the tea. “Would you? If you were in Lucifer’s position?”

“Would I what?” you asked.

“Fight back,” he clarified.

Beaten down for centuries.

You stared at your boozy tea. “No,” you finally rasped, taking a sip, “He probably thinks he deserves it. Probably thinks his brothers commanded it to happen.”

A light flashed in the distance, and the portal to Heaven opened.

Stolas held out his cup for a toast, swallowing down his sadness as he watched you. “To your one-year anniversary, my angel,” he said with a faint smile.

You snorted, clinking your cup against his. “Your angel?”

“Ah, well, it’s a better nickname than others I could think of,” he replied, “And it’s not wrong.” He wiggled back into the corner of the seat. “Now. Come morning, I have a lot planned – we’ll go shopping, have a nice lunch. We can bring Via.”

“And Stella?”

“Fuck no.”

You laughed a little. The sound died in your throat as the first scream of the extermination reached the window. Stolas scrunched into himself at the sound.

“You know,” you whispered, “I miss him.” You sniffed and took a long drink of your tea, then picked up the bottle and filled it with alcohol. You vaguely recognized Bel’s label on the side. “I’ve missed him for a very, very long time.”

“Lucifer?” he asked. You nodded. “Well,” he trailed off as he finished his own tea, and took the bottle fill his cup, then placed it on the floor by his hip. “Tell me about him?” he asked.

You squeezed your cup between your hands and leaned your head on the cool window. “I uh,” you cleared your throat, “I wasn’t part of the first angels that were made. I think the third? And I was a part of the Dominion that made the cosmos. Michael said that Lucifer wanted to learn a little bit of everything when it came to creation, so after I’d gotten used to it, he said that I would have a student.”

You remembered it fondly.

You spun the heavenly light you were given into a small orb, adjusting the size to fit into a larger spiral galaxy you were piecing together. There were other seraphim creating other galaxies and designing where they were fit into the great span of the universe.

Michael called your name, and you spun so fast that you scattered the stars at the tip of your galaxy.

The other angel with him caught the few stars that rolled past him.

“This is Lucifer,” Michael introduced with a smile, ushering the angel to you, “My brother.”

“Oh, hello!” you greeted with a smile, taking the stars he returned to you. “I’ve seen you, I think. You’re helping with the Earth project, right?”

Lucifer nodded, floating closer to your galaxy to place the stars you couldn’t hold around the frayed end of your spiral. “Yeah! I’m trying to learn a bit of everything.” He grinned. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“It’s my specialty,” you replied. You added your stars to fill in the last spaces of the galaxy.

“There’s been talk of adding stars to Earth,” Michael said, smoothing out the stars to finish the galaxy off, “So, I thought that the two of you could work on that while you teach Lucifer a thing or two about making stars.”

“Can we make them into things?” Lucifer asked as your galaxy was taken away to be added to the large blueprint of the universe, “Like shapes?”

“Why not?” you asked, smiling. He brightened. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yes, actually, I call it a duck,” he was quick to answer. Michael’s eyes widened a bit, and he shook his head as he turned away. “I thought we could make one with the stars?”

“Can you show me what you want it to look like?”

Stolas started to laugh as you explained details of the multiple sketches of different ducks that Lucifer had. You giggled, squeezing your knees with one arm while you waved your empty cup with the other. “Every constellation would have been a duck if he’d had his way!” you exclaimed.

“Did he make them?” Stolas asked, “Ducks?”

“He did, actually,” you admitted, nodding, “Luci had a pretty heavy hand in a lot of the birds on Earth but ducks were his creation. If I remember right, that’s actually how he first saw Lilith. She was watching a duck in the river.”

“You know, I don’t recall a duck constellation,” he said as he leaned back.

“There’s not,” you agreed, “It’s Cygnus.” Stolas choked on a drink and coughed as he tried to laugh. “He messed up the design and made its neck too long. When I looked at it after, the stars had already settled into place and we couldn’t fix it.”

You thumped your head against the window and glanced outside, finding the portal to Heaven small and closed, and the smoke from their extermination slowly rising into the air.

“Now’s your anniversary,” Stolas said. He took your cup and refilled it, then handed it back. “Tell me more stories.”

You squeezed the cup again and nodded. “I’d like that.”

~*~ Thanks for Reading ~*~ ~*~Tag List~*~

@amarokofficial @gluttonybiscuits

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #angelic rip off series

[findroleplay]

Rules: do’s & don’ts

There is almost no rule for what is or isn't allowed on this blog, we are accepting of basically all and any content. When something is not allowed there is a good reason for it, so please try not to break the rules.

What you can not post

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Generally, anything not mentioned above is allowed. However, since some things get asked often, I will make a general list of things that are allowed for your convenience.

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#I thought it was time for a complete overhaul of the rules #to make things clearer and whatnot #sorry if it's long and you've already read it #rp #roleplay #find roleplay #roleplay finder #1x1 rp

[magicshopaholic]

Near Misses

Summary: Five minutes and a near miss each, Jimin and Hoseok help two ladies in their lives set up their apartment.

Pairing: Jimin x OC, Hoseok x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Exes, brother's best friend; humour, banter, flirting

Word count: 4.2 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, kissing, references to alcohol

A/N: Takes place about three months after New Year's Eve Eve and two months after Kiss and Tell.

Tagging: @bbl32@quarter-life-crisis2@meirkive@faearchives@margopinkerton@dreaming-with-happiness@confessionsofamarshlily@jiminjhang@xjoonchildx@tarahardcore@infinitehobi@handfullofcandids@purpleseoul7

Listen to: "simple song" by the shins

jimin masterlist | hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

“Think fast!”

Jimin whips around and catches the object just before it hits him. 

“What the hell?” He examines the thing in his hand. “Sooah, I could’ve died.”

“Getting hit with a coaster? Try again, Park Jimin.”

Jimin huffs and places the coaster with the rest of the set in its stand and lines it on the coffee table. “You could be a little more grateful for my help, you know?”

Sooah chuckles, not looking up from the cardboard box she’s rummaging through. “Help? You’ve spent the last half hour critiquing every aspect of my living room.”

“Isn’t that helping?”

“Not quite. I like my living room.”

“It’s cluttered.” He gingerly picks up the quilt on the edge of her sofa. “And… mismatched. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No, I think it’s charming.”

“It’s messy.”

“So are you.” She smiles innocently at him.

“Fine, we get it. You like messy things,” he says nonchalantly, grinning and catching a stuffed toy she throws at him. “And you have a lot of crap. Sooah, this is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he informs her, holding up the stuffed white cat. 

“It has lost a lot of its allure,” she admits. “Fine, I can throw that out. I wouldn’t even know where to keep it.”

Jimin frowns. “Why are you unpacking, anyway? Isn’t Chaeyoung the one moving in?”

“Yeah, but I figured she’ll need some room for her stuff in the living room, too.” Sooah stands up and surveys the small space, hands on her hips. “And it’s a good enough reason to do some spring cleaning after a while. Apparently I have a lot of crap,” she adds.

“Kudos to Chae, then.” Jimin sits on the floor and leans back against the coffee table as Sooah tosses the empty cardboard box to the side. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Taking a shower, I think,” she answers, pulling an entire drawer out of a cabinet and rummaging through it. “She spent most of the morning sweeping and cleaning her room.”

“Are you sure you can do the roommate thing again?” Jimin asks curiously, watching as she holds up two sets of miscellaneous chargers. Her hair is tied back but loose strands of hair have escaped her ponytail. Her cheeks look pleasantly chubby and flushed; in the absence of any make-up, he can almost imagine the tiny, almost invisible smattering of freckles on her cheeks.

“Sure, why not?”

“You’ve lived alone for a while. Speaking from experience, having roommates requires a lot of sacrifice,” he says wisely.

Sooah sighs and looks up at him. “Are you going to complain about Taehyung and Jungkook finishing the last piece of hoppang again? It was three years ago, Jimin. Move on.”

“I said it was mine but they still - no.” He takes a deep breath. “Not again. I just meant that I thought you liked living alone.”

��I don’t hate it,” she agrees, going back to the drawer. “But I don’t hate having to split rent either. Plus, if I’m being honest, it’s been getting a bit lonely here lately,” she admits.

Jimin frowns. “Really?” When she simply shrugs, he bites his lip. “Why haven’t you ever called me when you’re lonely?”

It takes her a moment to meet his eyes but when she does, he’s surprised to see she’s suppressing a smile.

“That’s sweet, but… it’s not the kind of loneliness you’ve helped me out with in the past,” she ventures.

He narrows his eyes. “Wow. I’m just a hot piece of ass to you, aren’t I?”

Sooah laughs. “Your words, not mine.”

“So what kind of loneliness is Chaeyoung going to help you out with?” he demands, standing up and folding his arms across his chest. “What does she have that I don’t?”

“You really want an answer to that question?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “Chae, with her wise words and cute pajamas?”

“Oh, I get it. She’s better at sleepovers. Mixing fruity cocktails and shelling out advice about the horrible men you work with. I’m sure you follow that up with the pillow fights in your underwear.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, Chim, but girls don’t actually do that.”

Jimin clutches his chest in mock-agony. “You’re breaking my teenage boy heart.”

“It’s survived worse,” she says nonchalantly, chucking two broken halves of a candle into a trash bag.

“Chaeyoung must be a hell of a roommate if you don’t even get the pillow fights out of it,” he remarks, picking up a stray cushion and hugging it. “Or you must be the super roommate for her to snag the room the day after you decided to rent it out.”

“Actually, I asked her if she wanted to move in - but only because Hoseok asked me to,” she clarifies, shrugging. “He said she probably wanted to but she’d never listen if he suggested it. I kind of get it, though. Her old roommate was shady as hell.”

“Hoseok may have done you a service, then.”

“Oh, definitely. The first thing she did when she came in here was set up an aroma diffuser.” Sooah points to a small earthen pot at the top of the TV cabinet, with white sticks poking out of it. “I was sold.”

“Sounds like the whole package.” He claps his hands. “Guess you don’t need me, then.”

“Guess I don’t.” She flashes him a smile.

Jimin narrows his eyes. “You’re going to miss me when I’m gone, you know,” he warns her. “When you have no one to snark with over cookie dough or make you a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“You tried that once in all the time we’ve been hanging out since Taehyung’s party, Jimin,” she reminds him. “I have yet to be impressed.”

He nods and bites his lip, knowing she’s referring to more than just a sandwich. She raises an eyebrow expectantly and he chuckles, unwilling to fold.

“Fine. Can I buy you a new sofa? Would that impress you?”

Sooah frowns, visibly taken aback. “A new sofa? No way.”

“This one looks really old,” he says reasonably, going over and examining it briefly. “There’s a cigarette burn here and… is this a coffee stain?” He straightens up and tilts his head. “Don’t you sleep on this?”

“Hey, it’s a really old sofa, okay?” she replies, a little defensively. “I got it second hand because inflation hit rent pretty hard that year, so just… back off,” she adds.

Jimin raises his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to criticise. Just… can’t I gift you one? Friends do that.”

“Friends,” she repeats.

“Isn’t that what we are?”

To Jimin’s relief, her mouth twitches just a little as she rolls her eyes. “Friends don’t gift each other things like furniture,” she informs him, passing him by to gather some stray tape and bubble wrap on the floor. “Save that kind of stuff to spoil your girlfriend with.”

He sighs hugely. “If only she’d do something about it, I would.” 

Sooah scoffs as she starts to walk back, stopping slowly when he grabs her hand and tugs her a little closer, the other hand in his pocket. 

“Think of what you’d get out of it,” he insists, lowering his voice in an attempt to sound more persuasive. 

She raises her eyebrows and tilts her head. “A free sofa?”

“A free sofa, ice cream at your beck and call, and parties with a lot of expensive liquor.”

“A compelling argument.” 

“Is it working?”

“Not as well as you’d like,” she quips, playfully punching him in the solar plexus and slipping away when he groans. “In fact, why don’t you make yourself useful?” she continues, nudging a dusty machine at the edge of the carpet. “I dragged this out of the storage closet and almost pulled a muscle while doing it; could you help me put it back in?”

“What is it?” he asks, frowning and going over to take a closer look.

“Vacuum cleaner,” she supplies. “I bought it after four homemade margaritas.”

“So, that’s, like… ten regular margaritas?”

“Exactly.”

“So you called me over just to do all your heavy lifting?” Jimin places a hand on his hip, affronted.

Sooah frowns, a little incredulously. “Are you kidding? I didn’t even call you - you just showed up.”

“Yeah, but with beer. You know what? Fine, I’ll help.” He stretches his arms and cricks his neck for effect before bending and picking up the vacuum cleaner. “Storage closet, you said?”

Sooah beckons him to follow her and leads him to a small opening between both the bedrooms. Opening the closet door, she reaches up and taps the top shelf. “Right there.”

“Got it.” Taking care to flex his triceps, he raises the vacuum cleaner over his head, ready to place it in when she stops him.

“Wait! Um -” She slides in between him and the closet and moves some stuff to the side. “Here. You have more room now,” she says, turning around but not stepping away.

“Mhm.” Jimin doesn’t even bother suppressing his grin and heaves the vacuum cleaner into the appointed space. He grunts softly as he pushes it and tucks it in, feeling his t-shirt ride up his abdomen and cool air on his bare skin. He bravely leans forward slightly, just so her nose brushes momentarily against his collarbone, before stepping back down.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s good,” she answers, without turning around to look. Her freckles, few and far and almost the same shade as her skin, are slightly more visible now, peppered over the bridge of her nose. “I mean, it’s… fine.”

Jimin nods and places a hand behind her on one of the shelves, just above her ear. “Anything else I can do?”

She brushes some dust off the front of his t-shirt. “Stick around. I’m sure I’ll find something for you to do.”

“Aren’t you glad you called me over?”

“Again,” she says, folding her arms across her chest, “you invited yourself over. Haven’t you learnt that it’s rude to show up without calling?”

“I’ve been doing that pretty much every day since New Year’s. And you never seemed to have a problem with it,” he points out. He pinches her cheek affectionately. “Even the days I showed up empty-handed.”

She nudges his hand away but loosely locks her fingers with his, bringing both their hands now. “And yet, you still haven’t told me what it is you really want.”

Jimin sighs. “Sooah, you know what I want. What I think we both want. Why do I have to be the one to say it?” he whines.

Sooah give him a look. “Because you broke up with me.”

A beat passes and Jimin deflates. “Fine. Here goes.” He looks at the floor and then surreptitiously up at her, only to see a mildly interested expression on her face.

“Kim Sooah,” he begins, bringing his face closer to hers and knowing he isn’t imagining the slight hitch in her breathing. “Kim Sooah, I…”

Another beat; Jimin’s stomach twisting in anticipation, Sooah’s eyes wide with cautious hope. Without meaning to, their noses graze, just when the doorbell rings.

Sooah flinches while Jimin closes his eyes, partly frustrated and partly relieved.

“... will get the door.”

A little regretfully, he steps away from her and heads towards the living room, hearing the closet door loudly slam shut behind him. He opens the door to see Hoseok cradling a potted plant.

“Hyung?” he says in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I - I came to see Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung’s apartment, I mean,” he amends, holding up the plant as though to support his answer.

“Hey, Hoseok, come in.” Sooah appears from behind Jimin. “Chae didn’t tell me she’d called you over.”

“Oh, no, she didn’t,” he says immediately, shuffling inside and slipping his shoes off. “I thought I’d just pop by… see if she needed any help unpacking.”

“Huh.” She turns to Jimin. “So this is where you learnt it from. She’s in her room, probably already started,” she tells Hoseok, ignoring Jimin’s roll of the eyes. “It’s the one with the dreamcatcher hanging on the doorknob.”

Hosoek half-grins and waves to them, making his way to the aforementioned room. He’s about to knock when he sees the door swing open slightly, and he frowns. He knocks softly anyway but upon hearing no response, pushes the door open a little more.

“Hey, Chae, are you - oh, shit!”

He immediately whips around in horror, almost giving himself whiplash, while Chaeyoung scrambles to cover her torso with something. 

“Hoseok?” Chaeyoung exhales in relief. “God, oppa - can’t you knock?”

“I did knock!” he cries, back still to her. “You didn’t answer! And the door was open!”

“Oh. Sorry. I was wearing earphones.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes so hard he feels like his eyeballs could fall off. “Great job, Chae,” he says sarcastically. There’s the sound of clothes moving behind him but he still doesn’t turn around, the image burned into his retinas of her long hair down her bare back, her long and narrow waist, her pelvic bones peeking out from above her joggers… He squeezes his eyes shut, willing it to go away.

“Uh, you can turn around now.”

“I’m fine right here, actually.”

“I’m fully clothed now. God,” she exclaims, and he can almost hear her rolling her eyes.

Gingerly, opening his eyes a millimetre at a time, he turns around. He doesn’t leave anything to chance, though, placing his free hand over his eyes anyway.

“Here,” he says vaguely, extending the other arm with the plant blindly towards her. He feels her slap his hand softly and finally uncovers his eyes with a huff, relieved to see her in a full sleeved white top, a black tank top visible through the thin material.

“You’re not going to turn into stone if you accidentally see me without my shirt off, you know?” she snaps.

“I didn’t think - that’s not -” He takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose. “Here,” he repeats, handing her the plant again. “I brought you a housewarming gift.”

Chaeyoung’s expression freezes in the mildly irritated one from a moment ago before her muscles relax and her eyes widen in earnest. “Oh. That’s…” She takes the plant from him. “Wow. You didn’t have to do that.”

Hoseok shrugs noncommittally. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She opens the door wider and steps aside. “Thank you for the plant, by the way. It’s really nice of you.”

“No problem.” He glances around the room, feeling distinctly like he’s stepped into a portal to the past. It’s not exactly like the room she had at her parents’ house, but something about the purple and white bed covers, the tall lamp with half a dozen colourful scarves tied around the neck and the smell of fruity moisturiser feels so very Chaeyoung that he isn’t even sure he’s allowed to be here.  

“So?” she asks, holding the plant with both hands and in front of her abdomen. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

“Really? No opinions on which wall the bed should face or the hazards of a scented candle on a wooden desk?” she asks sceptically.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows and glances at the desk to see a white candle perched on the top shelf of her desk and chuckles. “No. I think I trust you not to burn down your desk.”

“Huh. Who are you and what have you done with my… brother’s best friend and his extreme lack of faith in me?”

“I’d almost be offended but it kind of brings me to why I’m here.” He slips his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans and rocks on the balls of his feet. “I… wanted to apologise. Sort of. I know I’ve been treating you like a bit of a kid and I just wanted to say… well, you’ve grown up, haven’t you?”

Chaeyoung nods thoughtfully. “In the last ten years? Well… maybe some, not a lot.” She shrugs sarcastically before smiling a little as though to let him know she’s just teasing. “Oppa, is this about the party at my dad’s house? Or… what we talked about that night?”

Hoseok sighs and nods, taking a seat on the chair at her desk and facing her. “Kind of. I expected a certain reaction from you but the one you actually had was… pretty mature.” He says the word a bit disbelievingly. “You’ve grown up, Chae. I guess it just took me a while to see that.”

She seems to be a bit taken aback by this confession and is - Hoseok observes in satisfaction - momentarily speechless. “Oh. Well, I - thank you,” she stutters.

“Yeah.”

“And also for the… plant.”

“You got it.”

Chaeyoung nods awkwardly and places the white ceramic pot on her bed, balancing it carefully on the quilt before straightening up. He can tell she’s thrown by his sudden admittance and is a bit awkward; she avoids his gaze and ties her long hair into a ponytail, her bangs still damp from her shower. The movement makes her shirt ride up slightly and he catches a glimpse of her pelvic bones again and immediately looks away, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Um -” He swallows and bites his lip. “I also wanted to check… you didn’t happen to mention any of that to your brother, did you?”

It’s like a switch has been turned on - or turned off. Chaeyoung’s shoulders fall and the delicate awkwardness he realises he was actually endeared by disappears, only to be replaced by an annoyance he’s much more familiar with.

“Is that what you’re really for? You know, this could’ve been a text, Hoseok,” she states sullenly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? No,” he says honestly. “I came here to see - to give you that,” he clarifies, pointing at the plant. “I just wanted to check, okay? He’s my best friend and you’re his -”

“Do you really think Chanyeol will even care?” 

“Oh, believe me, he’ll care.”

“Really? Would you be this anal about it if Jiwoo unnie dated him?”

Hoseok almost gags. “Okay, that’s disgusting. And you know what? You’re being all self-righteous about this,” he points out, turning it around on her. “Would you be okay if, like… Sooah suddenly started dating Chan?”

“Um, yes?” she answers, like it’s extremely obvious. “It’s none of my business? They’re adults!”

He stares at her incredulously before shaking his head. “Fine, maybe it’s different for sisters. Younger sisters, especially, but… you don’t get it, okay? You’re Chan’s sister and I can’t -”

“Oh, my God, is that all you think of me?” she interrupts fiercely. “Has it ever occurred to you that I have an identity outside of Chan’s sister? That not everything is about him?”

“I know you’re -”

“You come over here and give me this spiel about how I’ve grown up and everything but it doesn’t matter because I’ll always be your best friend’s little sister!” She shrugs in frustration. “You know why I don’t think Chanyeol will care? It’s because he - get this - knows I’m a person separate from him.”

“Chae,” says Hoseok, a little sternly now because why doesn’t she get it? “I hear you, okay? I know you are your own person, but Chan has been my best friend my entire life,” he explains clearly, joining his hands and punctuating every word with a movement. “So for my entire life, for better or for worse, you were just Chan’s sister.”

“I’m not -”

“And I would love to get to know you better and I want to hang out with you more, but you will always also be Chan’s sister, which makes you the one girl on the planet I cannot mess with.” He exhales, panting a little. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just… how it is.”

Chaeyoung’s gaze is trained away from him, somewhere around her bed, her jaw set and brows furrowed. “Fine,” she says eventually, shrugging. “Whatever. I didn’t tell him anything. It’s not newsworthy or anything, you know?”

Hoseok says nothing, already regretting his outburst a bit. For the first time in his life, he wishes she wasn’t just Chanyeol’s sister. He wonders briefly what it would’ve been like if he’d been nicer to her when they were kids, if she hadn’t made her schoolgirl crush so obvious, if he’d cared less about what his classmates thought. 

But they’d been four years apart; at that age, four years felt like a gulf. Right now, it feels only vaguely far away, like walking distance, enough to take her by the hand and guide her if she encounters a pothole.

Hoseok stands up and walks over to her. She still doesn’t look at him, not even when he nudges her shoulder. 

“Come on, don’t be mad,” he says softly.

“I’m not mad.”

Hesitating only for a fraction of a second, he reaches over and wraps his arms around her shoulders in a hug. “You’re kind of cute when you’re mad,” he says, a little teasingly.

For a moment he’s afraid he’s misread the situation completely, but then she begrudgingly hugs him back, her slender arms going around his waist. “Don’t lie,” she grumbles, resting her chin against her shoulder.

He chuckles softly and rubs her back, his chest feeling instantly lighter. They separate and he’s glad to see she looks at least slightly more appeased, if a little ruffled.

“You should put that somewhere,” he advises her, pointing to the plant. “You’ll spill soil on your bed.”

“Okay, dad,” she mutters, but picks it up anyway. “I’ll put it on my desk - it’s directly in the sunlight,” she adds, gesturing to the spot next to the candle. “By the way, nice work on subtly reminding me we’re nothing but platonic.”

Hoseok almost chokes. “What? I did no such thing.”

“You kind of did,” she disagrees, about the place the pot on the desk. “Could you move those papers out of the way, please?”

“Don’t twist my words around,” he tells her, reaching over from behind her and clearing the space on the top shelf of the desk.  “This was about your brother. And my life.”

“I don’t even know why you’re so bothered,” she continues, apparently not even listening to him. “It’s not like we made out. It was actually a pretty platonic kiss, ironically,” she says matter-of-factly, neatly placing the pot on the desk.

Hoseok frowns. “I wouldn’t say it was platonic.”

“Not platonic like kissing a friend, sure, but it wasn’t as scandalous as you think,” she says serenely, stepping back to admire the plant in the gentle rays of sunlight streaming in. “Looks good, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean by platonic?” he repeats. “It was… we -” He trails off, not sure what the word is. “It… lingered.”

Chaeyoung frowns slightly and turns to him. There is now less than a foot between them when she places one hand on her hip. “Kind of. I mean, we didn’t… you know…” She shrugs slowly, and he can see her cheeks pinking up slightly, “... French. Our lips… touched. That’s all.”

Without warning, Hoseok’s gaze falls to her lips. He averts it, but it takes him a second longer to do so. “It was a little more than that,” he argues weakly.

She says nothing, but something in her eye seems knowing. A ray of sunlight falls on her, making the flyaway strands of her dark brown hair appear almost auburn. A light breeze ruffles the collar of her shirt, baring her collarbone and his mind zooms back  to his arrival and the unintentional glimpse he’d caught that seems unlikely to ever leave his memory. How her eyes went wide when she turned her head around in surprise; how the rest of her body, despite mostly facing away from him, still revealed a shape he’d never considered in relation to her; how she’d covered up her breasts in record time with her shirt but the shape of her collarbones slanting down towards her chest was empty as ever.

This is Chan’s sister. But the voice in his head sounds like it’s underwater and drowning, barely audible.

“You were pretty drunk that night, oppa,” she reminds him in a murmur, and Hoseok’s stomach flips. “Do you think you need a recap of what really happened?”

It occurs to Hoseok very vaguely that his mind is absolutely blank, for no response comes to him. Chaeyoung’s mouth twists infinitesimally upwards when a sound like a gunshot makes them spring apart.

They look to see Jimin at the door, his knuckles against the wood. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. Hoseok doesn’t know if he’s imagining the slight smirk on his face. “We’re ordering lunch. Do you guys want anything?”

“Jajjangmyeon,” pipes up Chaeyoung, while Hoseok tries to slow his pulse. 

“Um - bulgogi.”

“Cool.” Flashing them an unnecessarily wide grin, Jimin saunters away, leaving the door wide open.

For a few seconds, neither of them speaks. Hoseok is too afraid to look at Chaeyoung, and even more afraid at the road his thoughts were going down when Jimin scared them half to death. 

“So, um…” He clears his throat, looking anywhere but at her. “You were, uh… unpacking?”

“Yeah,” she says immediately. “I was going to do the - the books next. Or the accessories,” she stutters, pointing to the remaining boxes under her desk.

“I got the books,” he says, reaching down and dragging the box out. “They go in the…”

“Bookshelf.”

“Right. And the accessories are…”

“In the closet,” she answers immediately, “all the way on the other side of the room.”

“Perfect.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#hoseok x oc #hoseok fanfic #jimin x fanfic #jimin x oc #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #bangtanoasis #bangtanbathhouse #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts jhope fanfic #bts jimin fanfic

[codemagister]

ooc. anon: that’s okay! i appreciate you being open to it, i didn’t want to upset anyone fndhdj and thank you to everyone in your group who is chill with it as well!

also, every time you post something ic and tag it with something like “the master”for rp, it’s going to pop up in the general tumblr tag that people might be using to search for things that are not rp related. i know personally that i just make up my own tags to keep things tidy on my blog without affecting a general tag on tumblr? if that makes sense? just something to keep in mind when you’re using the tagging system, i know it can get frustrating to go through a tag and it’s nothing but rp when that isn’t what i was looking for rip. again, thank you so much for your consideration! AND long live the master (delgado’s version) honestly 🫡 love that guy so much, i’m dreading the loss of him in the show.

ooc:

Yeah, don't worry about it, we've worked something out and it also ended up being the thing we needed to corral us all into a group chat too!

I personally will be going back and swapping out a few of the older tags for the new tags later to help remove the clutter in the tags, thank you for informing us GDSFGDSFG.

#ooc post

[fortrivmph]

rules.

THIS IS AN INDEPENDENT / SELECTIVE ROLEPLAY BLOG FOR HAYTHAM KENWAY FROM THE ASSASSIN'S CREED SERIES.

GENERAL RULES.

i. there will be nsfw content on this blog, as well as gore and mentions of historically-accurate bigotry including racism and sexism. if you need something tagged, tell me. MINORS SHOULD NOT BE FOLLOWING OR INTERACTING WITH THIS BLOG. i am a grown adult, i am not comfortable with that.

➥ do not come here to be a freak about the templars. i am a historian with a focus in early christian history, i know enough about the templars and crusades to not tolerate modern white supremacist nonsense. trying to talk to me about the templars 'being right', historically or in the games, will earn you the cold shoulder at best. do not try your crusades 'defense' on me until you read fulcher. this is non-negotiable. sorry to the normal people reading this there have been horrors. ➥ do not say haytham should have been the protagonist of iii over connor. the way people talk about connor makes me insane. the point of iii was to provide an indigenous perspective on one part of the american revolution; haytham could not serve as a conduit to that. calling connor aggressive / bloodthirsty and haytham contrastingly charming / progressive will get you blocked.

ii. i prefer para over all other methods of roleplay, but if you want to use script, that’s fine. you do not need to format to roleplay with me. i use small text - tell me if you’re having trouble reading what i’m writing so I can bump the size back up for you.

iii. in-character drama is welcome in moderation; ooc drama is not. i do not reblog callout posts. if there is some extreme problem, you can come into my dms, but this is a privilege and if people start throwing petty drama my way i will revoke it. anon works the same way.

iv. i am always open to interacting with more than one of the same character, and ocs. i enjoy crossovers. that said, i more than likely won’t interact with kenway ocs. I WILL NOT INTERACT WITH PERSONAL BLOGS. PERSONAL BLOGS SHOULDN’T BE REBLOGGING MY THREADS - THAT WILL GET YOU BLOCKED.

v. i am not mutual-exclusive! i do not need to be following you for you to interact with me. it’s a way to keep my dash free of clutter, and threading with me is the best way to convince me to follow you!

vi. i work a full-time job and have a chronic hand condition, so sometimes my activity will plummet. i'm sorry if this causes frustration, it is also frustrating for me.

vii. the mun uses he / him pronouns; you can call me samuel!

viii. if you made it this far, thank you; please jump into my ask box whenever you need me, or tag/mention me in a post & we can get started. i promise i'm friendly, i love meeting new people and try to keep it chill!

IMPORTANT CHARACTER NOTES.

i. haytham has borderline personality disorder. i will neither tolerate it being used to excuse his actions, nor it being demonised as a condition. it is a part of how he operates, but not the cause for his violence or worldview.

ii. haytham was groomed by reginald birch. this also does not excuse his treatment of connor, but it does inform it, as it helped to influence his 'parenting' style. his choice to stay with the templars post-birch was his own.

#᛭ out of patience ( ooc. ) #᛭ the creed ( essentials. )

[an-isolated-lifeboat]

Taming Paper Chaos

Something I think comes with being home more is you wind up seeing your mess more and that takes a toll when it is literally your only place to be. One thing that I struggled with for years that I finally have seemed to turn a corner on is paper clutter. While I have most things on paperless, there’s always still papers that I need to organize, whether because I have to keep a hard copy or those things that just don’t have paperless options. 

Note: If you don’t have your own place, I have options for bedroom and backpack options further down.

My System

I looked at A LOT of paper organization systems over the years and the one I’ve settled on is mostly inspired by the Minimal Mom on YouTube. One main difference is I have to keep my action items visual or I will absolutely forget them. 

I also don’t have “long term files” the way she does. I’m not sure why but it’s not really been relevant in my life. Perhaps because I don’t have kids and am not likely to be able to own a house.

A note - do not put this in your ideal place. Put this where people are dumping all their papers anyways. That’s usually going to be a flat surface, so try to find or make a vertical one right near it. 

With that in mind, here is my system. 

Pretty underwhelming right? But let’s talk about the components. The most visual part are my action items which I clip to the front of the fridge. All items get tagged with the task associated with them. This is...so key. Before I’d clip things up and it felt like it would take forever to deal with so I avoided them. Now I realize most paper items really only require one or two tasks at most to deal with and I’m keep the executive functioning of deciding what to do separate from the executive functioning of deciding when to do it. 

I also don’t fuck with due dates anymore. I just date them with the date they went up on the fridge so I can see how much time has elapsed. As you can see, this one has become a stuck task. I don’t feel too guilty about it because I know I’m working through the wall of awful around it and I’ll get to it when I can. I clear most things by the end of the week they go up. Anything that stays longer than a month - probably a stuck task. 

My items get clipped to the right side of the fridge and get green post it notes and my partner’s get clipped to the left side and get purple post it notes. That way it’s very easy to see who has what task and I don’t feel like I need to nag because it’s very clear, that’s hers and it’s her decision how to handle it. I don’t need to worry about it. 

I also use the post it notes to request her to do non routine tasks I need her to do (lifting things so I don’t throw out my back, maintenance she’s qualified to do but I’m not, etc). It cuts down on nagging because she sees it when she sees it and can decide to do it whenever she feels like it. She generally prefers to texts her requests of me which I’m fine with. 

Next is the time will tell bin. Coupons you’re not sure you’re gonna use - they go here. Catalogs you might order from - also go here. Can’t think of the next steps with an item but you figure you probably shouldn’t throw it out - put it here. 

The idea with this bin is that is that you go through it every so often, either as if gets full or at regularly scheduled intervals. You see what’s expired, what’s out of season, what’s no longer important to you and you toss those things out. At some point you’ll get tired of seeing something every time you go through it and probably toss it. Or you won’t and it’s fine because it’s contained in this little bin. 

The rule with this bin though is that you can only keep what fits in this bin. If it’s piled up to the point where it’s falling out on the sides, you gotta find something that’s less interesting or relevant to you to get rid of. 

Last is the important documents folder. This is for ID documents, legal documents, taxes, housing information like current and past leases, etc. This one was supposed to be very bright green so it would be easy to spot and direct people to in an emergency buuut the seller did not send what was pictured and I’m making do with this until I can swap it out. I sit it under the time will tell bin so it’s easy to file things when I’m sorting mail. 

If you only have a room...

If you’re in a dorm, living with roommates, or staying with family, you probably don’t have a big fridge to use to clip up action items. You could swap it for something like a bulletin board but I’m partial to wall grids like this and bulldog clips. You can attach them with removeable wall hooks so they’re very dorm/renter friendly. If you’re short on space you can even put one up on the back of a door. 

I still think it’s important to tag the paper items with the task associated with them and the date you put it up. Some grids have options for bins for pens and the like which would accommodate some post it notes as well, that way you can keep them close at hand. 

That takes care of your action items and the rest can stay the same. Find a spot on a shelf for your time will tell bin and important document folder. Set a reminder to go through it as often as you’d like to if it’s some place you will not easily see it fill up. 

If you’re very mobile...

If you’re very mobile, whether that’s for work or you don’t have a stable living situation or perhaps you’re young and you’re going between the houses of parents who’ve separated each week, you still have options. 

For your action items, I recommend a clear pocket folder with a zip so things don’t get lost and you can clearly see when it has items in it. I’d recommend putting the most urgent item at the front so it stays top of mind. You can keep some post its and a pen in the folder itself and make a rule to tag things with their action before you put it in the folder. 

For your time will tell bin, I’d probably use an opaque pocket folder with a zip. I don’t need to see what’s in it. If I need it, I’ll go looking for it and I’ll clear through it at least once a month anyways. If you get catalogs occasionally, it should be big enough to accommodate those - one of the main things that gets stuck in my time will tell bin especially in spring. It does mean you’ll have less space than a bin so you’ll probably have to churn through it quicker. 

You could also opt for a small accordion folder that isn’t brightly colored - to contrast with your important docs folder. I’d personally worry that that’d make me feel like I needed to sort things into categories which would slow me down and overwhelm me so I probably wouldn’t opt for that. But if that works better for you, go for it! 

And your important documents folder once again would stay the same - brightly colored accordion folder with tabs for personal ID docs, taxes, health records, etc. 

Since these are less visual, it’s extra important to set a reminder on your phone or calendar to nudge you to check them. I’d check the action folder at least once a week and I’d check the the time will tell bin whenever it starts getting full or monthly. Ideally whenever you’re setting up at a place, I’d keep them in a visual place, but I also get sometimes you’re moving literally everyday and that might be a hassle. Use your judgment. 

If you’ve got a backpack with a laptop pocket, consider getting a laptop sleeve for your computer and using the pocket for keeping your paper system in place. Keep it and your planner or bullet journal all in one place and you’ll always know where to look or in an emergency, where to direct people to. 

Flow

You have a document that you know isn’t trash. 

Is it important?

>>> If yes, is it urgent/requires action?

>>>>>> If yes, tag it with an action and today’s date. Put with action items.

>>>>>>If no, file in important documents folder.

>>> If no or I don’t know, put in time will tell bin. 

What About...

...school work?

Personally, depending on the amount of paper I’m getting from school, I’d probably just file it according to this system. Tag action items. Time will tell. Important docs - maybe a section for syllabi. I’d also probably use it mostly as an intermediary - digitize what needs digitized, get tasks into my task system (bullet journal; collections). 

But it really depends on what kind of school work you’re doing as to whether that would work. If you’re doing courses that are very paper heavy, an additional system for that work specifically might be needed. 

…receipts, more extensive financial files?

That is not my bag. I avoid that shit like the plague. Check out this video for mid and long term filing options. 

If you’re dealing with someone’s affairs after they’ve passed away, I highly recommend making a separate system (action, time will tell, important docs) for those items as they’re draining to see mixed in with your day to day items. Consider setting up a system like I describe for people who are very mobile and keeping it near by your main system so it’s easy put things where they need to go but you don’t have to look at it all the time. 

...children’s art work?

Memory boxes are great, for you and for kids. Check out this video. 

...schedules, papers I need to reference?

Tag schedules with a post it reminder to put the dates in your calendar, then toss (or scan and toss). For information you need to reference, use a scanner app on your phone to digitize it and attach to a calendar item if relevant or file with digital references. 

#studyblr #isolation #neurodivergent #declutter #homemaking

[studying-the-light-of-laurelin]

Using Notion helped me graduate Summa Cum Laude from University

I graduate in less than a month with my M.S. in Informatics degree after working and attending school full time for the last two years. It’s pretty crazy to think that I’m graduating with at least (since the fall semester isn’t quite done yet) a 3.94 GPA, and I still managed to work full time, get promoted, and move to a new state without dropping the ball on any of my work.

One of the ways that I was able to keep on top of all my assignments and work throughout this time was to use Notion to keep track of all my university assignments and notes in one place.  If you want to read the full piece on medium, I have linked it here. Otherwise, keep reading below for how I used Notion for the past few years.

Home Dashboard

In my personal Notion, the top portion of the dashboard contains all of the pages I regularly use and go to, as well as a top of mind to — do list and other tasks for a specific time period. While I was working towards my master’s degree, the top section looked something like the one below.

Relevant assignments were split into categories and hidden in toggle lists so that I could keep the overall dashboard cleaner. And while I can get to my class by going to my studying page and then the course, I also hyperlinked it in the header so that I can quickly get to it from the home page.

Course Dashboard

Note — Originally, I modified a free Notion template I found in late 2020/early 2021, and unfortunately, I have no idea where to find that template now — if you happen to know, comment below so others can find it! The template I use now has been modified to work for me a little bit better but it is still based on the template I used originally.

Once I click on the class page, it takes me to my central class dashboard page. I keep this particular template for all my classes as I have found it so helpful.

The top half of the page for each class contains the title, an image that is (vaguely) academic, information about the course, a to-do list for that week/month, and then a section where I have individual pages for each module and notes. I often copy the to-do list from the course dashboard into my home dashboard so I have the details on what I need to do in two places that I frequent often.

Underneath, I have a database of all the due dates, including the dates of the modules, details on the assignments, tags, and completion status. As the course went on, I filtered on incomplete status so that I knew what needed to still be done and what was yet to be completed.

Modules + Notes

For my notes, I separated them into individual modules and kept the assignments for that week in the module so I could find them later and know exactly where they were. I also linked (via Google Drive or embedded PDFs), the slides, readings, and any notes for that module so that I could find them easier.

If a particular course had labs, I created a separate page for them, and separated my lab notes by date and in toggles so that I could have them all together in one place without cluttering everything up.

Final Thoughts

Using Notion for the past couple of years has definitely been incredibly helpful in making sure that I keep track and keep up with all the assignments and work I needed to do each semester and for each class. I ended up actually upgrading to the paid version of Notion (about $40 a year) so that I could have all my classes and notes and documents saved. I also backed up them all into a Google Drive as well just in case Notion went down.

This system really worked well for me, and if you give it a try in the upcoming spring semester, or even now, I’d love to hear how it worked out for you :)

#notion #dark academia #notes #studyblr #masters degree #academia #litwtchstudies #how i use notion #studying #academichelp #informatics #study help #study aesthetic

[dawn-the-rithmatist]

Common Tumblr Myths

I’m seeing some information go around rn that’s true in spirit, but not entirely correct and I want to make a few little reminders

“Likes don’t do anything, they’re just so you can find things again later in your liked posts.” This one is usually fired off as part of encouraging people to reblog instead of/in addition to liking things. It’s a good thing to encourage, because reblogs are the most EFFECTIVE way to show support and share posts, but they’re not the ONLY way. Likes do things!! They help posts be more visible outside of people’s dashes in search results, the “for you” page, and things like “in your orbit” and “based on your likes” (assuming you have those enabled- you can turn them off in settings).

“Tumblr doesn’t have an algorithm.” Also usually seen as part of the reblog-not-like posts. Tumblr does have an algorithm- it’s just not forced on you like it is everywhere else. Your dash (the main screen when you open the app or website) is curated on follows and reblogs, but the “for you” page, search results, and anything that shows up on your dash because of tags you follow and your/your friends’ activity, that’s tumblr’s algorithm! You can avoid it completely if you want, and sometimes it does some Weird Shit, but if you’re new here and struggling to find blogs to follow, browse some tags, reblog and like a ton of things, and then check out the for you page. It’s actually a pretty good way to find new people!

“It’s rude to block/unfollow people.” Full honesty, this is maybe not a universal opinion, but on a website where your experience is almost entirely defined by who and what you follow, you need to block and unfollow people. Sometimes your interest changes and you don’t want a fandom cluttering up your dash. The “toxic side” of a fandom can be nothing but a myth to you if you block liberally. No one can know if you’ve blocked them unless they specifically go to your blog, and even then it looks the same as a loading error. The strength of tumblr is the ability to control your own experience, so take advantage!

“There’s no way to know who sent an anon ask.” That is um. Not true. There are ways to figure it out. I will not detail them here because you can Google that and I don’t want to hand people that power, but just. If you are going to be shitty to someone on anon, please keep in mind that people can figure out who you are fairly easily, even if most folks don’t know how or won’t go to the effort of doing it. Also, anon asks can be a really lovely thing, so why,, use them to be a dick

This isn’t a myth but it is related to that last bit: you can answer asks privately! If you get an ask and you want to respond but don’t want it on your blog, answer it privately so only you and the asker can see it. It’s a good way to handle asks that are maliciously targeting someone or potentially trying to start drama. Highly recommend. Don’t be a cyberbully’s platform.

That’s all I’ve got right now (whoops got a bit off topic) but if I see more going around I might reblog this with some more for the new folks. Also! Hi new folks, glad you’re here :)

#also for the old folks with misconceptions?? I guess?? #anyways if you already know all this sorry for cluttering up your dash #I see the first two a LOT and the last one is just something more people should be aware of #anon does not make you invulnerable to being accountable for your words #it just makes it a bit more effort to hold you accountable #dawn speaks

[softlyapocalytpic]

Wait omg I’m dumb, I didn’t actually press the submit button. I was GONNA ask about James Finding the File in your WIP tag game yesterday but then I didn’t lmao. Better late then never tho so: 👀

Oh lmao you're totally good!! Better late than never!! c: so happy to answer questions about this one!

This is the next part of Detective Amy shenanigans that begins like this:

Detective Lockhart’s office was tucked away in a part of the vault that few people came by, but that was fine with her. She’d never been the kind of person who thrived in the spotlight. She sat alone in a dusty room with one lamp, cluttered by the belongings of the other tenants in the building. The price of low rent. She’d rather have a place of her own, but credits were tight and she was saving up for something far more important. This was where she kept her most important case files. Out of the hands of the prying public and locked away for only her eyes to see. If only she could get that journal with the lock and key, and if only it wasn’t in pink with hearts on it… Then she’d truly have her information secure.  A knock on the door sounded as true and sure as any other. What poor soul had made their way to her doorstep today? “Come in, but only if you’re willing to do business.” Leo pushed open the door, jamming his fingers into the slit where the lamp cord came out, and mumbled, “Ammy! Give Capn pees?” Amy siged, annoyed, and got the Captain Cosmo action figure out of the toy chest next to her, “Why don’t you just keep on the nightstand? What if I was in here with a client, huh?” She handed it to him and he broke out into a happy wiggle. “Tank you, Ammy!” He kissed her cheek clumsily and toddled away giggling happily.   Amy pulled the closet door closed and sighed ruefully. She remembered when she used to be that young and free- when she spent her days running through the halls of the vault on her Mama’s shoulders. She took out a lollipop out of her dad’s old cigar case and ripped off the wrapper. It was getting harder to remember her. Each day that passed was another day away from the past, and another day away from Mama. Amy sniffed. She wasn’t about to let that happen to someone else’s mom.  The authorities Daddy and Officer Gomez didn’t want her working the Deloria case, but their explanation was lacking. It was fishy. (Or, rather, she figured it sounded fishy. The cops in the Silver Shroud were always held back by the law, so there was a lot they couldn’t say to “civilians”. Amy had tried to argue she wasn’t one, but Officer Gomez pointed out that even as a private detective or a vigilante she wasn’t the law. He had her there.)  Daddy looked like he’d had more he wanted to say, but he got called into a meeting with the Overseer. With both of them busy that put Amy home alone with with Ms. Beatrice (blech) and Leo. It was more like house arrest. They were holding her in her own home on a weekend when there was a mystery out there that needed to be solved! She was supposed to hangout with Amata today too…

And ends a little something like this:

“Sweetheart, what is this?” He’s broken. Sitting on Amy’s bed with the lamp lighting the room. Leo’s asleep in his crib/bed. Amy is scared. Scared that he’s mad at her, scared that he’ll take it away, she wants to rip it away from him. So she gets angry. She screams, “That’s not yours!” She jumps on the bed and desperately tries to claw it away from him. He keeps it out of her reach, “Sweetie- calm down-” “No! It’s not yours! Give it back! Give it back!” Amy’s hitting him, crying. James’ heart is breaking but he doesn’t give it back. He knows he needs to burn all of this. She knows so much more than she should. He has to get rid of this before she actually tells anyone about this, “I can’t sweetie. I can’t. This isn’t-” his voice falters because he’s guilty and heartbroken, “This isn’t healthy for you.” “SHE’S ALIVE! SHE’S NOT DEAD! She’s just gone! I can prove it, I can prove it!!!” Amy is so desperate, so desperate to get her mom back, to not forget. 

Amy is a little too smart for her own good. Thanks for asking <3

#tag game #sirmanmister

[cf56]

This is going to be rude and blunt, but I’m afraid I don’t know how else to say it. If you miss the point this time, it won’t be on me. You keep getting hung up thinking that people just don’t like what you’re saying. That the problem for others is your opinions on Season 3. That’s not it. You are overly invested in the show as a whole, and that has taken center stage. I’m not saying this to make you change that part, but how you use that information in the context of these discussions. Being mentally ill, neurodivergent, or anything of the sort does not mean that you or your takes are exempt from criticism. Also you’re not the only one who falls under that umbrella in the fandom. And I’m sorry, but the responses I’ve seen to your posts recently do not qualify as you being marginalized. That’s not even close. It frankly makes it look like your trying to play the victim. Bottom line is, your opinions are fine, though they could stand to be under ‘Read More’s so they don’t clutter the tag. The reasoning behind them, is what keeps throwing me for a loop. I don’t mean this maliciously, but please seek therapy. From one invested fan to another, that kind of attachment is not healthy.

Well, you were right about it being rude.

I have never made the claim that my takes are exempt from criticism. In fact, I’ve clearly said the opposite many times. My replies and askbox are always open. I’ve debated with someone, maybe even you, on this topic through my asks, and I never got angry at them for speaking up against me. I don’t care about people disagreeing with me. I care about people getting upset about me expressing my thoughts at all. I have a right to do so. Everyone does. You’re not obligated to read what I say or put any value in it at all. I’m just some random schmuck on the internet. In your other ask, you asked why I was so invested in Animaniacs. I answered. Why did you assume that I meant that to be a shield from criticism? It was just the truth.

When I browse the tag, on desktop, all the long posts are partially hidden anyway under “expand” banners. If you don’t want to see my opinions on this, all relevant posts are tagged “#animaniacs episode 8”. Block that tag. Block me for all I care. For the record, there is no way to “read more” when you make a post on mobile, which is usually how I respond to asks that don’t need pictures.

It doesn’t sound to me like you think my opinions are fine. You say the reasoning behind them throws you for a loop. Okay, that’s fine. However, I have thoroughly explained the reasoning behind all my opinions. It’s not as if I’m screeching into the void with no explanation behind it. Again, I make maybe two or three posts a day. I’ve made six total self-posts that are negative about season three. If you can’t handle that, it’s on you. Only you. You claim that I’m the one who’s too invested in this show. I would say, if reading opinions you don’t agree with on Animaniacs gets you this worked up, maybe you should take a look in the mirror first.

Bottom line, I’ll be invested in this show as I damn well please. No one had a single problem with it before I started to share opinions they didn’t like.

#animaniacs #answered ask #animaniacs fandom #cfposts

[brainshock-alpha]

hiya! i'm robert brainshock :) if you're hanging around, be aware that:

i’m an adult

i like and post about a variety of things, but one of my main interests is video games, with a special focus on the pokemon series as of late

i keep it mostly sfw and almost absolutely horny-free here. there may be a suggestive or informative post on occasion but that’s about it. this does not hold for content older than ~2019.

i tag (or at least try to) for common content/trigger warnings and i can tag for most other things on request

i type in this very casual style all the time and cuss a lot

i do not grant permission for my works to be misused, which includes posting them to other sites without my knowledge and scraping them to train AI models

black lives matter, trans rights are human rights, palestine will be free

relevant links

art sideblog: @godspeed-gay-bowser

fanfiction: solonggaybowser on ao3 & on sqwa

cohost: brainshock (main) & solonggaybowser (art)

“hey what are these weird tags you use”

brainshock artfrick is my art tag, used when i reblog from my art sideblog.

lp observation zone is for let’s plays and streams i watch. mostly these posts are just funny out-of-context quotes, which always have timestamped source links. i don’t guarantee that a source is sfw outside of the posted quote.

bshock’s self-indulgent music nonsense is for songs i like and happen to feel like posting about.

[corrupted/jokey forms of video game titles] (e.g. “#poketaboutit” for pokemon) is for talking about the games i play without cluttering up the game’s actual tag. older tags in this vein take the form [corrupted title] | gameshock-alpha.

brainshock-alfic is for the struggles of writing fanfiction. i used to have a special tag for each fandom i wrote in, but i decided that’s pointless and there’s just one tag now.

i have no tag for queued posts

“hey what does your url/etc. mean”

url: attack from EarthBound

icon: enemy from OFF

header: concept art for episode 3 of Pokémon: Twilight Wings

title: lyric from “The Geese of Beverly Road”

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢. — 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Tags: @itsnottilly

Summary : after the troubling interrogation, Y/N sets back off, possibly created contact with an ex-friend, a bully, a douche bag. Learning the conflict and grudges, tension is brought to them.

Navigation — Mixtape

“Y/N, Y/N. Y/N!” A shout flickered the girl back to the futile, cold office, accompanied by the principal, chief, and the officer, who seemed slightly worried about the girl who seemed to have dozed off into the abundance of memories and thoughts overflowing her own emotions, a sense of guilt welling up on her, “Are you listening?”

Her eyes blinked, watching the concerned adults, who were looking back at her. She shakes her head, her brittle hair moving from side to side, trying her best to hold back tears, not wanting to know of the possibilities of Will not being safe. Remembering a bit of the event that carried on last night, she spoke forward, “I-I only remember leaving early, since I had to be home by six. Will was with the party, so I don’t know much from there.”

Callahan cleared his throat, taking the seat next to her, “Do you know what street he usually takes to go home?”

”Mirkwood,” Y/N fixes her jacket, watching her dad rolls his eyes, remembering the fuss the party made while they interrogated them about a few hours ago. She looks around, the diplomas displayed on the back, tears slightly welled up in her E/C eyes, feeling a pit in her stomach, “I-I’m sorry. Is there any way I could help?”

She snapped.

Heavy streams of tears dropped onto her pale cheeks, now one of her responsibilities of whom she had promised to take care of was gone. If she should’ve stayed a little longer, just an hour more, she could’ve prevented it. It’s all her fault, all her fault. No wonder she was a failure, maybe those dorks from years ago were right. It was all her fault her mom ever divorced Hopper. It’s everything, all her fault-

“Y/N,” A large hand rubbed her back up and down, making her try to feel better, the girl that had her hands buried into her face, looked up to see her dad, sitting beside her, “You just have to keep a brave face, and no investigating okay?”

Her heavy eyes drift towards the bearded man, watching her sternly beside her, she frantically nods. Later then, she provided a bit more information about Will and his family, now that she’s been with them for five years now. Ever since that broad decision was made, it would become one of the most treasured moments in her life, the strong bond brought them together.

Excused from the staff, she strolled back to the hallway, barging through her cluttered backpack to try to find a fresh pack of cigarettes, but none were to be found. She sighed loudly, to swing her backpack to its default position and pacing along the hallway. The realization kept hitting her, her eyes burned, while she quivered, biting her lip. That same feeling inside the principal’s office, the guilt. What was there to be guilty about anyways?

“Oh, won’t you look who it is!” A cocky tone appeared from afar, Y/N gave no shit to turn to the voice but instead continue watching the shiny floor, reflecting the lights above, “I guess Hopper is weeping for her mommy. Oh right, she doesn’t have one.”

Furious at the remark, her eyes darted across to find a brunette, with ‘perfect’ hair, leaning against the metal lockers. Steve fucking Harrington. This boy had it all against the girl, ever since those harsh words being repeated over and over, like a broken cassette, threw her into the lowest state. Y/N’s expressions turned bitter, her nose wrinkled, and pursed her lips, “Stop acting like you’re ten, Steve.”

”I see you’ve been listening,” He raises his eyebrows, snarlingly commenting, shifting his hands to his pockets in his khaki jeans.

“So?” Y/N spoke back, slowing her pace down to be able to talk to him although feeling like the need to ignore back again. Why was she going to bother her time with him?

Oh right.

Steve, her old friend. Accidental friends after he was helping his mom bringing in the groceries on a cool December day, back in her elementary school years. After the kind offering Y/N gave during a small ride around town, it evolved to an odd friendship, one to which Y/N had been too attached. Steve might have found it odd that a girl, a girl, like Y/N Hopper would be around him so much. Clingy, was the word he gave her, was it offensive?

Maybe.

But due to stereotypical construct, you would’ve guessed everyone calling them annoying names, couple names, like two romantics although they were only like, twelve. From “When are you going to marry her?” and the “Where’s your girlfriend?” Honestly, no one else was surprised by Y/N’s small reoccurring crush on him. Stuck like glue, Steve didn’t like this bubbly, excited Y/N anymore, she was pushy. Sick of the repetitive comments to him and meeting new friends, who were dickheads in the girl’s eyes, he wanted to push her away, she was annoying, bratty, and clingy. He listened to those kids, these kids that Steve considered ‘friends’ were total assholes, persuading him to become sort of like them. Only the beginning of the 6th grade. They were stupid, naive, reckless, are what other parents claimed to be, couldn’t they move on.

To this day, she still reckons why she ever told Steve, why was she so dependent on someone with who she’d only been friends for months? Why Steve? Why out of all the friends she supposedly had, why him? It seemed like an utter dependency she had for him, she even knows she must’ve scared him off for being well..... her. Y/N was young, it was one mistake to tell a secret to someone you somewhat knew would tell everyone, right?

”Can I tell you a secret Steve?” Y/N crossed her legs in front of him, playing with her fingers nervously. Awaiting for a bit of truth to be let out. As everyone has supposedly known, Y/N had a supposed mother and sister who were alive, and together. Everyone believed that the Hopper’s were the happy family, her sister was alive along with her mom that was still with them. Truth was, Sarah was dead, Diane divorced Jim when the girl was eleven years old. A broken family, from papers to fighting for custody, it was all crumbled to pieces, unlike close and tight-knit families.

Steve looked up from the ground to meet the girl’s eyes. He slowly shuffled closer to her, “Yeah okay tell me.”

Y/N breathed in and out, before leaning into his left ear, “I don’t have a sister nor a mommy.”

”What?” His chocolate eyes widened, scooting away from her, getting up rapidly to avoid contact, “That’s weird! Everybody has a mom! You’re a freak!”

Frazzled, Y/N sat still, watching him running away, feeling a bit hurt due to his reaction. She thought maybe she trusted him with her life although he didn’t feel the same, she thought that he could’ve been more supportive. What if he was right? Anyways, it was ok, it was his first reaction, it’s normal, right?

Nope, it wasn’t. After finding such intimate information about this girl he wanted to get rid of due to popularity, he set off to tell every single kid at school. Maybe this was for the best, he would get her out of the way to focus on his supposed friends. Creating such influence in the school, he somehow got ahold of everyone to turn their backs on Y/N. Oh, what entirety of hurtful words that they targeted poor Y/N with. Everyone excluded her, the freak, weirdo, dumb girl that didn’t have parents and a dead sister. Everybody no longer liked the lonely Y/N, just a bit of trust would be one to ruin a life. It consequently grew worse, it wasn’t even verbal teasing, it became physical. Steve being stupid and reckless had ruined her life, and for what? Just getting rid of her. Realize, how the effect of one's words to make a benefit can create a rumble over people, they were young and stupid..... can’t that be a proper excuse to move on?

Everyone knows Y/N. Y/N Hopper, the stubborn, tired and selfless girl who held grudges against everyone. They all knew she wasn’t going to move on anytime soon. Subtle changes to herself and her personality, she became quiet, reserved yet so outspoken about her opinions. Everyone seemed to have moved on, back into high school, more mature and old enough to hold responsibilities, but Y/N. A slow hatred burned inside her, even though it was years back, everyone liked Steve. That stayed the same for sure, he was more prissy and above it all, unlike Y/N. It may have seemed like........ they never knew each other. Strange, maybe it was better that they stayed apart.

Gallantly watching her feet stay still under her, she looked back at him cheekily smiling as if nothing had happened. Why did he forget everything? “Shouldn’t you be in class, since when has the Y/N Hopper been so rebellious?”

”I was called to the office,” Y/N mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, trying to drift off into the narrow hallway, “What about you?”

”Thought I could skip, Mrs. Wyatt doesn’t do shit.”

Without spatting anything back, the annoyance of the school bell rang for the third period, students piled out of the classrooms in the crowded hallway. Girls and boys trudged along the place, like birds migrating to their destinations automatically, it may seem like a normal fall day in town, but it would be a life changing experience for some. No one knew Will Byers, why would they care anyways?

Before Steve could look back at the girl, she disappeared into thin air, never to be seen for now, back to the boring classes, but with a small change of Will’s disappearance. One disappearance that could change the whole fate of small-town Hawkins, Indiana.

#Steve Harrington #steve Harrington x reader #steve Harrington fanfic #steve harrington series #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington angst #Steve Harrington fluff #Stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #steve Harrington x you #steve Harrington smut

[writing-in-lesbian]

You wanted to sleep with a goddess but instead had to settle for a priestess

Pairing: Yelena / F!Reader

Tags: angst, fluff, happy ending, mentions of alcohol

Rating: PG-15 (I guess?)

Word count: 2.5k

Translation: Pridurok = jerk

Disclaimer: all the Marvel characters mentioned don’t belong to me (if they did, Nat would be alive and Wanda would be hugged and in therapy!)

Synopsis: Inspired on an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S “You and Yelena have been dating for almost 3 years and you plan on proposing on your anniversary, but the universe has other plans and after a game of true or dare game you have to confess who you were actually looking to hook up the night you and Yelena did it.”

AN2: English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistake. I’m also on AO3 as: writinginlesbian

~~~~~~~

The light coming through the windows is the first thing you notice, the warm sensation on your skin rousing you from your deep slumber. Groaning a little, you refuse to open your eyes, instead cuddling further into the cozy feel next to you. Now that sleeps is evasive, the second thing you notice is your bladder demanding you take a trip to the washroom.

Opening your eyes reluctantly, the third thing you notice is the mass of sand blond hair in front of you, tightening your hold on her you smile and hum contentedly, earning a little grunt from the body in front of you.

Chuckling, your lips place a kiss on her bare shoulder before you finally release her. Stretching your body, your neck and back crack a little making you moan softly at the relaxation.

“You better keep quiet y/l/n or I won’t be hold responsible if I keep you hostage in bed all day” a groggily raspy little voice informs you, her Russian accent thicker in the mornings.

Smiling and shaking your head, you get up from the bed and march to the in-suite bathroom, hearing Yelena mumble something similar to spoilsport before closing the door as quiet as possibly.

Yelena Belova. Your girlfriend.

A little angry ball on the outside but a total dorky cinnamon roll on the inside (although she would never admit this to anyone), came into your life like a hurricane. Her sarcastic side and dark humor was one of the things you noticed right away, followed by those musky green eyes, capable of grounding and keeping you in your toes with just one look. How you got her to agree to date you after hooking up one night, is still something you have troubles believing it but here you are, sharing an apartment with her, a dog named Fanny (which she got to name) and just a week away of your three year anniversary… the one where you plan on proposing.

You got the ring ready, specially custom made to your request, paid by Tony (as annoying he can be, he’s been more family to you than your blood family). He squealed (actually squealed) when you told him about your plan for proposing and insisted on being your “best man of honor”. 

Finishing your business, you wash your hands and clean your face with cold water, staring at your reflection in the mirror and smiling at the sight of Yelena’s creams and her messy side compared to the organized one of yours. You can’t wait for Saturday to get here soon enough.

The sound of the alarm from your cellphone can be heard through the door, followed by a thud and then silence. You forgot to change it last night, so of course it ringed at 7am disturbing the dreams of the beauty in your bed.

“You better not have broken my phone again Yelena” you try to be serious while walking back to the bed.

“So it’s more important a phone than my sleep time? Okey, I see how it is, pridurok” she says covered in blankets, but you know she’s pouting.

You get back to bed, picking up your phone quickly inspecting it placing it on the nightstand, kneeling in front of her and slowly you take the covers off her face. She’s looking at you with and unreadable expression and you can’t think how it’s so similar to the one her sister often gives you during training sessions.

“No, you’re more important to me love… but this would be the third phone screen you break and I doubt Tony would be happy about it” you said while bopping her nose with your finger.

Yelena looks at you and cracks a tiny smile. You kiss her forehead, standing up you try to leave but her hand at your wrist stops you. You turn to her… only to find her middle finger directed at you.

“Still that damned thing woke me up and you weren’t here, so it deserves the fall” You chuckle as you see Yelena rolls off and pretends going back to sleep.

You go downstairs and start preparing breakfast after turning on the coffee machine. You know Yelena needs a little bit of a kick to fully wake up. While you wait, you open the “just add water pancake mixture” opting to add half milk and half water with a little bit of melted butter for extra fluffiness. After getting the pancakes ready, you go to the fridge to pick some fruit before placing it at the counter to be chopped.

Hearing soft padded steps nearing the kitchen, you grab a plate and put some pancakes on it, grabbing some strawberries and quickly cutting them in four, adding it to the plate along with some blueberries. The coffee pot indicates it’s ready so you grab a blue mug and fill it with the exquisite elixir, snatching some clutter, you place everything except the cup on the table just as Yelena enters the room.

Without a word she grabs the cup form your hands inhaling it before taking a sip. A hum and nod of approval is all you receive before a peck on your lips. Smiling you gather a plate for yourself and proceed to seat with her at the table. You both make small talk while eating before she asks your plans for the day.

“I’m supposed to meet with your sister in about an hour and then lunch with Wands and Bucky. Might get to see Tony in the afternoon though, depending on how my cellphone is” you try to be serious but the smirk on your face gives you away.

“Your phone is fine pridurok, I checked it before coming downstairs”

“Okey, then I shall be back around 6ish. Wanna do something babes? Get advantage of the weekend and that?”

“Maybe”

Before you can propose a plan, Yelena’s phone sounds. She looks at the display before answering.

“Hey mama”

You wave at her and she catches your intention, passing your regards to Melina before leaving the room. You decided to send a quick text to Natasha before texting Tony telling him you’ll meet him quick before heading to your lunch date to pick up the ring.

Cleaning up the table and putting the rest of the pancakes and fruit back on the fridge, you leave the kitchen and find Yelena still talking on the living room. You finish getting ready as you don’t wanna be late with Nat. This might be the most important coffee date you have with her, you know, since you’ll be asking for her little sister hand in marriage, so you don’t want to risk it by making her angry by being late.

Of all of Yelena’s family, Nat is the one you worry must about. She’s so fierce and protective when it comes to her baby sister. Despite being reluctant at first, (she’s your BFF so she knows all your dating history) she approved of you once she saw how happy you made Yelena, not before giving you the scariest shovel talk anyone can give. Melina and Alexei both agreed immediately, both of them giving you a slightly (emphasis on slightly) less frightening talk of “you hurt my baby daughter I won’t hesitate to kill you” talk than Natasha’s. You tried to joke by saying that if you ever hurt Yelena, she would be the first one to chop your head off before them. It didn’t make them laugh.

Grabbing the keys, you check your cellphone to see Tony’s reply consisting of only a thumbs up emoji. Making your way to the living room, you wave in front of Yelena, giving her a quick peck on her lips before whispering a “see ya later babes. Love you” before leaving.

// // //

You can’t help being nervous. In all your life you never imagined thinking of getting married. You liked your space and time alone, you weren’t afraid of intimacy or commitment, but you never quite connected with your past partners in the level you connected with Yelena. Strange thing honestly, considering how you started dating: hooking up after Steve and Peggy’s wedding. You both tried to keep it casual and secret, not wanting to make a huge deal about it. And you were fine with it until one day when you were having lunch with all your friends at Natasha’s place, you saw Yelena and your breath caught in your throat and you knew, you just knew you were in love with her.

“What has you smiling like an idiot?” A raspy voice brings you back to the present.

Noticing just now, Natasha is seated in front of you cup of coffee in her hands. You must have spaced out more than you thought since there is a refilled cup where your last empty one was.

“Yelena” you said it without a doubt, a smile on your lips.

Natasha smiled amused by it. In all of the years she has known you, she never saw you this smitten and happy with someone. And honestly she was happy it was with her baby sister. You both were a cute couple, with their ups and downs, but were still going strong and you both took care of each other.

“So where did you left her? It’s weird to see you without her attached to your side”

“She’s at home. I know she wouldn’t like to be up and out this early being Saturday”

“You asked me for coffee this early on purpose”

It’s meant to be said as a joke but giving the current topic you want to talk with her you don’t laugh.

“I did actually. I wanted to talk with you about something”

Natasha sees the seriousness on your face. She stares you for a little bit before her curiosity gets the best of her.

“Okey”

Your leg stars bouncing and Nat takes notice of it. Your hands grab the cup in front of you to avoid drumming the table with your fingers, a habit you do when your nervous.

“It’s about Yelena”

Nat’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion. You were smiling a few minutes ago so it shouldn’t be nothing bad, right?

“What about her?” You can’t help to flinch a little bit with the hardness of her tone.

Your fingers drum a little on the cup, you open your mouth but no words came out. You sigh.

Nat is silently observing you, giving the benefit of the doubt and actually waiting for you to speak, but since is her little sister you wanted to talk about, she can’t help but get impatient.

You heard her huff in annoyance after what seems seconds but it has been a few minutes, you got lost in your mind again.

“Iwanttoaskforyourpermissiontomarryher” you say in one breath, taking half of your coffee in one gulp and not looking at her.

Natasha blinks in surprise, trying to decipher what you just said. Her mouth opens slightly once she process what you just dropped on her.

“You… you want to marry her. My little sister, Yelena… you want to marry her?”

Finally looking up you see Natasha is a little bit speechless. Something you haven’t seen in like never. You try to gauge her reaction but she’s a master in hiding her emotions, so you opt to answer her honestly any question she might have.

“Yeah, I do”

“Have you proposed to her though?” a fair question.

“No. I wanted to talk with you first”

“Why?”

“You’re her big sister, your blessing is important to me Tasha. I know that we both think that this tradition of asking for someone’s hand in marriage is an archaic thing and that and Yelena would probably get angry if she knew I did this, but you mean a lot to her, she adores you and respects you a lot. I know I could work around your parents but if you were to oppose, I don’t think Yelena would be as happy. Plus you’re my best friend Nat, I care about you”

Natasha stays silent thinking in what you just said. Basically, you gave her a lot of power here, if she were to say no, would you really not propose? She has seen you grow by Yelena’s side and has seen the same with her sister. She knows you never would hurt her.

“So if I would to say no?”

Your stomach hurts at hearing that. You drop your eyes to the table before answering.

“I might postpone proposing but I would still do it”

“You really love her”

“More than anything, I’m in love with her Tasha” the smile on your face and the brightness of your eyes give her all the answers to the questions she might have.

When she found out you were hooking up with Yelena she was so mad and furious with you, more so when you denied it when she confronted you about it. She was on her way to forbid you to see her sister when she caught you both asleep on the couch. Yelena had her head on your chest while you hold her securely in your arms. Both your faces were peaceful and happy.

“When are you planning on doing it?”

You looked up surprised.

“Saturday at-”

“Your dinner anniversary”

“Yeah… how-”

“It’s all I’ve been hearing Lena talk about for the last week, this big dinner plan you have for it and how you won’t tell her what it is, so she doesn’t know what to wear and is a ball of nerves, is kinda annoying actually”

You can’t help but blush at hearing that. You know the Romanoff-Belova sisters are reserved so the fact that Yelena has been gushing about your relationship to her sister has your stomach doing flops and your heart beating harder.

Natasha studies your face and can’t help but smile with you.

“Alright y/l/n, you have my blessing to marry my sister. Don’t fuck it up okey? It’s my baby sister I’m trusting you with”

You are speechless for a moment. You know deep down that she would say yes, but hearing it saying it it’s another thing. You stand up and grab her in a bone crushing hug.

“O…key… need… to breath…”

“Sorry, sorry… thank you Nat, really, you don’t know what it means to me, truly”

“So you have a ring picked yet?”

“Yes. Actually, I’m meeting Tony before lunch to pick it up, wanna come?”

“Of course, I need to make sure my baby sister gets the best of the best”

You laugh and throw the napkin at her, she catches easily but laughs with you. You’re not nervous anymore, at least for the moment.

Now, you only need to ask Yelena… easy right?

#yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #first work for this fandom #au #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #cross posted on ao3

[netheritenugget]

How To Fandom

Okay I’ve been really really wanting to write a masterpost about how to stay sane on this website for a while now, and I think it’s time.

So You Joined The Dream SMP Fandom/Basically Any Fandom.  You Feel Like You Are In Hell.  How Do You Keep Sane?

The block button is your friend.  Unless the person who has been blocked tries messaging you or interacting with your posts, then they’ll never find out they’ve been blocked.  You can also do something called “softblocking,” which is blocking and then unblocking them to make them unfollow you.  Chances are they might not even notice you’re no longer on their feed.  Block people who annoy you.  Block people who give you bad vibes.  Block everyone and anyone who makes you uncomfy.  It’s worth it.

Tag filter tag filter tag filter.  Tumblr has its own tag filtering option.  If you block the word “gore” it won’t block “gore tw” but it’s good to use because it will synch all your filtered tags between mobile and desktop.

If you use Chrome, you should install the New Xkit extension.  It has lots of different filtering options, like the option to block individual posts and all variations of them, blacklist words, hide advertisements, and more.  There’s also additional accessibility options.  Seriously I cannot reccomend being able to block posts enough, it’s extremely helpful for clearing your feed of the same annoying rants that keep popping up over and over again.

Turn off anon unless you’re comfortable with having it on.  Anon is a nice way for friendly shy people to message you, yes, but it’s not worth it if there’s people flooding your inbox with hate.  You are not a coward for wanting to see the faces of the people who felt the need to take the time out of their day to bait and harass you.  Anons harassing you this way want you to post their answers for others to see, because if it was just about making you feel bad, they’d PM you directly to tell you how much they hate you.  No, it’s about the fact that they can do it with zero repercussions.  Don’t let them get the chance.

Take breaks.  Log out of the app and have some food and water.

If you see a post that makes you angry, ask yourself if seeing the same topic in a week will make you just as angry.  Ask yourself if it’s worth it to spread that anger to others.  Is the information in the post verifiable?  Does it need repeating?  If the answer to any of these questions is “no” I suggest not spreading it.

If you’re about to argue with someone over their stupid opinions, ask yourself...  “Will this argument die out after five minutes?  Am I prepared if it goes on longer than that?  Is this person probably too stupid to comprehend that they’re a moron?” and if the answer is “yes” then just take the moral high ground and leave.

If you have a post you’re not sure about (maybe it’s controversial, or maybe you’re just feeling extra anxious today), save it to your drafts and come back to it later.  It may also help you find typos.

Posts that have already been made can be changed to “private” which will allow you to see them, but nobody else.

Alright Those Are Cool Tips!  How Do You Make Tumblr Better For Others?

Be respectful of other’s boundaries.  Unless you’re friends with a blog, do not assume they’re comfortable talking about absolutely everything with you.  The big blogs on this site don’t have social media managers, they’re not therapists, they’re just normal people who didn’t need to wake up to requests for feet pics.  Please be nice to them.

Don’t put unrelated character tags on your posts, it’s especially rude when I’m scrolling through the Eret tag and see unrelated fanart of different characters entirely.

Leave the “#m*neblr” and “#m*necraft” tags alone.  It’s not for us.  Use “#mcyt.”

When you trigger tag things like seizure warnings make sure you’re actually using the correct tag for such things.  For example if you’re tagging gifs for epilepsy warnings, “#epilepsy warning” is better than “#epilepsy” since the first tag is a warning, and the second tag is just the name of the medical condition itself. (Don’t have epilepsy, it’s just a good example)

I love it when people leave nice things on my posts!!  I love it so much!!!!! Putting things in the tags is nice if you think your comment might be cluttering, but you want others to see it don’t be shy about slapping it into the reblogs :)

Remember that there is a myriad of reasons someone might not have answered an ask you sent!  Tumblr really does eat asks sometimes for unknown reasons, the contents might not have made the recipient comfy, or they might have cleaned the inbox out, or they just might not have wanted to answer it.  The recipient might not be comfortable with you sending an ask about where the first one went, but if they are, please be polite and know they don’t have to answer you if they don’t want to!!

Sometimes fandom drama can get out of hand.  You know the author of the Dream Apologist Manifesto?  They got death threats.  Don’t contribute to harassment, no matter how much you think it’s deserved.  Don’t be that guy.

If anyone else has anything useful to add, feel free!

#long post #mcyt #dream smp