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eulalielatibule · 5 months

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Pine-ing For You

Pairing: Soft!Roommate!Ransom x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Fluff, Christmas, some swearing, fake dating, there was only one bed.

Summary: You bring your roommate, Ransom, to your family's Christmas celebration.

A/N: This is a repost from my old account, @/hevans-angel. It's probably my favorite Ransom fic I've written so I wanted to get it out for this holiday season! Merry Christmas everyone!

You had known Ransom Drysdale for many years, since you both were in diapers. It was safe to say you two were good friends, despite Ransom being… Well, Ransom. You practically knew everything about him.

Practically.

Since letting him move in with you after he was cut from Harlan’s inheritance, however, you discovered the biggest plot twist of all plot twists:

Hugh Ransom Drysdale loved Christmas.

Like, love loved.

As in, the man who gagged at those commercials of families getting together and being wholesome was also the person that put up the Christmas decorations at 12 am on November 1st.

You didn’t mind though, it was nice seeing him enjoy himself for a change; you had never seen him smile so much before, it was sweet. You almost told him he should smile more often but you didn’t want to run the risk of getting him all embarrassed so he’d stop.

Instead, you listened as he sang Christmas songs- his favorite was Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, and he changed the lyrics so that Walt got run over- and helped him bake those little sugar cookies that had Christmas trees and snowmen on them.

You even put up with him whenever you just so happened to be standing underneath the mistletoe. He'd kissed your cheek and you’d kiss his, and when you'd pull back he'd be smirking.

One time when you both were drunkenly singing All I Want for Christmas is You, he pulled you over to the plant hanging from the ceiling and kissed you straight on the mouth. It was a chaste, puckered lips type of kiss and yet it still made your heart flutter from excitement. You both carried on as if nothing happened, never brought it up when you were sober.

You eventually decided the incident was merely drunken shenanigans and nothing more, although a part of you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours again.

When you asked him to join you at your family’s annual Christmas party, you weren’t surprised that he said yes. In fact, he seemed excited to go. He had told you that Harlan always threw these big holiday parties at his mansion, but they always ended in fights and Ransom running off to the nearest bar so he could drown his issues in the first woman he saw.

Not this year, though. This year you promised him it was going to be good. You had a small family, so really it was only going to be you, your mom, your dad, and your siblings. Maybe grandparents too if they could stop by.

“The only thing is,” you started, “I kinda need to lie and say we’re dating.” Ransom’s eyebrow quirked up, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted to go out with me all you had to do was ask,” he quipped, causing you to scoff playfully and lightly shove his shoulder.

“No, it’s just that if my grandparents show up they’re going to bug me about how I’m ‘getting too old’ and I need to settle down. I'd rather not deal with it this year." Ransom dropped a heavy arm across your shoulder and squeezed in reassurance; you felt like a ragdoll compared to his strength.

"Don't worry, I'll help you out."

🎄

Christmas Eve came along, and you and Ransom drove to your parent’s house. He insisted on taking his Beamer, but of course he had to drive even though he didn’t know the directions. It was in the next town over in a nice gated community. You were the youngest of the family, so when you moved out to pursue your career they moved from one really big and fancy house to a different really big and fancy house.

The man at the gate let you in and Ransom drove by each neatly decorated house; some had only lights, some lawn decorations, a few had next to nothing. It was to be expected though, seeing that mostly elderly people lived in the neighborhood. You figured it was probably hard for them to decorate given their old ages.

When he got to the destination, you both got out of the warmth of the car and into the cold Boston air. Your parents- or perhaps someone they hired- made their house look like a fairytale; Hundreds of white lights covered every inch of the house, giant candy canes acted as a faux fence around the front lawn and two nutcrackers stood guard at the base of the porch. It looked even more magical with the light dusting of snow covering the ground.

“Wow, do they do this every year?” Ransom asked as he carefully climbed the stairs. He extended his hand to you, and when you didn’t take it he glanced over his shoulder. “C’mon, we're dating. Couples hold hands, sweetheart.” He smirked and you huffed a laugh, taking his gloved hand as he helped you up the stairs.

“Thank you. Yeah, they love decorating for the holidays. The inside is probably going to be even better.” After a knock to the door, you heard some busting from inside before your dad opened it with a big smile.

"Hey you two! Merry Christmas!" He hugged you and kissed your head before turning to Ransom. "How are you feeling being away from your family for Christmas?" Ransom shrugged, taking his sunglasses off.

"Honestly? Relieved. I don't have to deal with their bullshit. Thank you for letting me join you guys." Your family, parents in particular, loved Ransom. They found him charming and his comments on his family always made them laugh, because who could disagree? The Drysdales and the Thrombeys were horrible. Everyone that knew them would say that. Ransom had his moments, but since moving in with you he had improved a lot.

“Don’t mention it. Come on it,” your dad stepped aside and you and Ransom went into the house. Just as you expected, it was decorated beautifully. A giant Christmas tree stood in the corner next to the fireplace, said fireplace lit up and had stockings already hung up. There were dozens of presents underneath the tree, and sparkling multi-colored lights adorned the entire room.

“The turkey should be ready in an hour. You two get comfy.” Ransom went over to the fireplace and blinked in surprise.

“One of these has my name on it.”

“Well yeah. Seeing that we’re spending the night here, why wouldn’t they get you a stocking?” You stood beside him. Ransom’s was knitted with red yarn and on the white, fluffy cuff was embroidered “Hugh” in gold colored thread. They never liked calling him Ransom, your mom said the name “sounded too mean.” Yours was next to his, all white. The yarn had silver threads laced in it, and your name was embroidered in silver.

“Do they get stockings for anyone who comes over?” He didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, in fact he was the opposite of that. He just couldn’t believe someone would go through the trouble of doing that. As if you could sense that, you wrapped your arms around his torso from behind and hugged him.

“Face it, Ransom. We love you.” You grinned and he offered a small smile back.

“Finally admitting it, huh?” He turned around in your grasp. You felt your face heat up just a little as you shrugged nonchalantly.

“You know how I feel about you. You’re my best friend.” Ransom looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he kissed your forehead and sighed.

“You’re mine too.”

🎄

The party ended up going very well. Turns out pretending to be Ransom’s girlfriend wasn’t all that hard. You two pretty much acted normally, but there was extra hand holding, snuggling, and kissing. Lots more kissing. Whether it was on the cheek, forehead, even the back of your hand. He never kissed your lips, which in all honesty disappointed you. But you figured it was probably for the best, seeing that you were already so in your feelings about him.

Everyone in the family loved him, as usual. Your grandparents said they were happy you finally settled down with a nice boy. They even asked if you two would get married. You told them to quit it, but Ransom butted in.

“I can say with 100% certainty that I don’t see myself ever leaving her side.” Everyone at the table aww’d. You looked at Ransom, both confused but you also felt like your heart would burst from the sweetness of it. He winked and took another bite of turkey.

After dinner you all played games and watched a movie. It was tradition in your household to watch A Christmas Story every year on Christmas Eve. By bedtime, your parents told you that you and Ransom would be sharing the guest room.

Of course, there was only one bed.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whined, laying down on the plush comforter beneath you. You had already changed into your pajamas, and Ransom was about to change into his.

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” He said, even though he was clearly smirking. You glared at him and he laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m kidding. C’mon, this isn’t a big deal. We’ve fallen asleep on the couch together before.” He tried to reason with you.

“I know, but this is… Different.” You avoided his gaze and traced the stitching on a suddenly interesting throw blanket. Ransom sat on the bed in front of you and took your hand, making you look up at him.

“Do you want me to sleep on the ground?” He offered, but you shook your head.

“No, I don’t want you sleeping uncomfortably. You can sleep up here, but… No funny business.” You pointed a finger at him, and he nodded.

“You got it. No funny business.”

He went to the bathroom and changed into his pajamas, which was apparently sweatpants and no shirt. Lovely. You groaned and rolled over so you were facing away from him. You felt the bed shift as he laid down next to you.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Ransom.”

🎄

Christmas morning, everyone gathered around the tree to open presents. You sat next to Ransom on the sofa, his arm resting on the cushions behind you. The position was all too familiar, and your face heated; see, when you had woken up, you found yourself snuggled up to Ransom. You were nuzzled in his side, his arm draped protectively around you. You had managed to wiggle out of his grip without him noticing.

Gifts were passed out, "thank yous" and hugs as well. You had gotten a lot this time around, and your family even got Ransom gifts as well. That made him tear up, and you teased him for being such a sap.

Your gifts to him were simple but you hoped it showed you cared. It was a few new sweaters- you knew he lived in them practically all year long- a cookbook so he finally had no excuse to help you in the kitchen, and a writing set.

You had found this beautiful leather-bound notebook and fountain pen set online and ordered it immediately. Ransom had been talking about wanting to get into writing, whether it was novels like his Grandad or something else. You also mentioned to him that journalling was a good way to get one's feelings out in a healthy and constructive way. He seemed keen about the idea.

"Y/N, thank you so much," he pulled you into a hug and kissed your head. "I love this. I'll write you little messages every day." He said it in a joking way, but the way his eyes lit up made you think differently.

He went over to the tree and brought back a candy cane striped gift bag, placing it in your lap.

"Open mine now."

You untied the string handles and took the multi-colored tissue paper out. Inside was a set of three glass self watering globes- the top was a sphere and it had a long stem extending from it that had a hole at the tip, which allowed water in and out; perfect for watering plants.

The best part? The globe part was decorated to look like a cat’s face. It even had little ears. You gasped and looked at Ransom, who was looking pretty proud of himself.

“These are so cute! I… Can’t believe you got me a genuinely nice gift?” He scoffed and looked offended, but you knew he was just teasing.

“Oh wow, thanks a lot. As if you don’t go around our house talking to your plants as if they were real-”

“They are real.”

“As if they could understand you,” he offered, to which you nodded and he continued. “Besides, ever since you made me take care of them-”

“I didn’t make you, you insisted on it. And it wasn’t all of them, it was one. And it was fake.”

“Would you stop interrupting me? Could you do that?” He poked your side, to which you squealed and wiggled away from him.

“Okay! Okay. Continue, please.” You raised your hands in surrender, making Ransom laugh.

“Thank you. As I was saying, I know this is a hobby you love and…" he shrugged as he trailed off. You grinned and hugged him.

"Thank you, it's amazing. Now, what else did you get me?" He chuckled and squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

"The rest is at our place. It's a surprise."

Once all the gifts were opened and breakfast (and about half the candy in your stocking) was eaten you all said your goodbyes and headed your separate ways. On the way home, you and Ransom stopped by a coffee shop. You got tea and he got hot chocolate.

As you got out of his Beamer you saw something sitting at the front door. As you got closer you noticed it was a little cactus that had reddish-pink flowers growing on it. The way the flowers were growing made it look like it had a flower crown on. Your mouth hung open and Ransom hummed.

“Looks like the delivery made it on time.”

“Oh my god! I love it,” you enthusiastically picked up the potted plant and held it in outstretched arms so you could admire it. Meanwhile, Ransom unlocked and opened the door, an eyebrow raised.

“Are you actually crying right now?”

“Shut up, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” you stuck your tongue out at him, running to the living room to add your newest baby to the collection. He rolled his eyes lightheartedly as he sat down in his recliner.

“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart. I would have gotten you something more but seeing that I’m running out of money that wasn’t an option.” You scoffed and shook your head, ridding yourself of your jacket and mittens.

“Are you kidding? This was perfect. /You were perfect. Thank you for being so great at the party. It really means a lot.”

“You know I’d do anything for you, babe,” he spoke so softly you almost missed it. You turned to him and reminisced on the past month, all the fun you two had. It was the most fun you had ever had with Ransom, the most fun you had ever even seen him have. Growing up he pretty much avoided anyone and everyone during the holidays, which is why you assumed he hated it. Now you realized he just didn’t have anyone that he could actually celebrate with in a meaningful way.

Now you realized that you didn’t want him to feel that way ever again.

“What are you thinking about?” You heard him ask, voice low and face soft. You broke out of your trance before gesturing for him to stand up. With a groan he did.

“Follow me.” You led him to the fireplace and stopped directly in front of it. Ransom’s forehead was wrinkled in confusion before he followed your eye line to the mistletoe hanging above you. He chuckled gently.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one to drag you over to the mistletoe,” he put his hands on your shoulders, gently letting them run down your arms and settle at your hips.

“Do you remember a few weeks ago, when we were drunk and you kissed me?” You felt him squeeze your hips lightly before nodding.

“That rings a bell.”

Your hands ventured up his chest, feeling all the defined muscles underneath the maroon sweater he was wearing. One hand rested on his shoulder, the other the back of his neck.

“I kind of want to do it again.”

“To get drunk or to kiss?” Ransom spoke softly. He licked his lips as his eyes roamed over your face.

You answered him by pulling his face towards your own and finally letting your two lips meet once more.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x woc!reader #ransom drysdale fluff #my writing

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teyamsatan · 8 months

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ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ɪ - ʜᴀɴᴅᴊᴏʙ

pairing: Neteyam x avatar!reader

a/n: hi and welcome to kinktober x if this first work seems familiar, that's bc it is lol. i have been so so busy and so i have decided that for prompts that fit some of my previous work, i'd give myself a little grace and use those instead. now, i think this works great because there's a lot of new besties here, so this way people get to read some of my earlier work and (hopefully) enjoy it for the first time!! i can't wait to go on this journey with you 🎃🧡 smooches x

words: 1,3k

warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: oral - male receiving, inexperienced Neteyam.

taglist (x)

Being a human had its perks, and being an avatar, well, that goes without saying. One of the perks, turns out, was the wealth of information available to you at the touch of the button. Say what you want about the Sky People, but they were informed in things you could barely even conceive, and well, you've always loved to learn. You spent your whole life learning everything you could get your hands on, from more useful things, like how to patch a wound or how to treat an infection to... less useful things for day to day endeavours, but definitely intriguing to you.

There was a lot in Hell's Gate that the Na'vi and the scientists that were granted leave to stay were unaware of, and you were glad. Your research led you to unearth some... unsightly discoveries, that you were more than happy to have to put to good use right now, after a relaxing swim in the nearby lake, with your best friend that... has some questions. Well, you were nothing if not a good friend, and a dutiful teacher.

His eyes were wide as you smile and push him until he falls to the ground with a small thud. It was quiet in the forest, only the small chirps and trills of the animals living peacefully could be heard over the sounds of both your laboured breaths. He was anxious, you noted, based on his fluttering ears and his erratic tail wags.

"Are you nervous, Tay?" you couldn't help the teasing tone of your voice, as you traced your fingers down his body, from his collarbone, to his chest, down his defined abs, until you hooked your fingers in the band of his loincloth, tugging at it gently.

"Let me make you feel good, Tay. Let me show you what it feels like to be human for a little while."

With that, you untied his tewng and let it fall to the floor, and you gasped a little at his size. He was bigger than you expected, and the sight aroused you beyond belief, beyond words and comprehension, because if before this was just supposed to be a learning experience, now you knew that while he would get his, you would definitely get yours, too.

Almost inquisitively, with a tinge of wonder and awe, you run your fingers over the patterned stars of his length, from the base to the cotton candy pink tip, marvelling at his beauty and how nothing you've ever seen before in movies or magazines could ever compare to it. You tighten your grip and smirk when a sudden inhale broke through the silence and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes, that were tightly shut as his head was pushed back, and you knew then you wanted to see this face, see how he reacts to you, to your lessons, every day of your life.

"...f-fuck!"

You slowly start pumping him, taking your time, analysing each contraction of his facial muscles, thrilled at how he's falling apart around you and you haven't even properly started yet. When the tip becomes covered in pre-cum, you can't resist the need anymore, and you slowly inch your lips towards it, a little startled when Neteyam gets up suddenly, concern deeply embedded in his features.

"W-what are you doing?"

A hand still pumping him, you placed the other on his chest, pushing him back, willing him back in the same position he was in before.

"Shh, relax, tay. you wanted to learn, right?"

With that, you placed a small, gentle kiss on the tip, licking every drop of pre-cum, and you were shocked at how sweet it was, how you wouldn't mind having it coat your tongue, and your mouth, and your throat, until it was all you could taste. You shuffled uncomfortably at the ache that took over you, and how good you knew his cock would feel filling you, how just the stretch itself would bring you to the brink of orgasm. Maybe next lesson.

You couldn't help taking more of him in, your tongue pushed flat against his length as it went further down your throat until you gagged slightly around it. The groan that escaped Neteyam, low and uninhibited, emboldened you as you started a steady bob of your head up and down his length, one hand continuing to pump what you couldn't reach otherwise, while the other rubbed circles into his thigh, hoping this way he wouldn't overthink this and just relax. After all, what were friends for if not to help each other... learn and unwind?

His hand finds your hair and you purr against his cock when he starts petting you, the little gesture enough to make you excited for when he'd be experienced enough to take charge, the way you knew he had it in him.

"You feel so good. S-so good, fuck."

His hips buck against you and you moan as he slips further down your throat, as he starts thrusting in your mouth, and you let him, impressed about how quickly he seems to catch on and turned on about how his first instinct was to immediately take control. This would be easier than you thought.

"I'm gonna, i'm cu-"

Ropes of cum shoot down your throat as his cock throbs in your mouth, and the noises he makes, carnal and primal, make you slowly start grinding against the ground to find some of your own release. You make sure to suck him dry as he pulls out with a small pop, and you smirk as you lick your lips, watching him trying to catch his breath, watching him panting and slowly regaining him composure.

"Enjoy yourself, friend?"

"So... when's the next lesson?"

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @

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desideriumwriter · 8 months

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hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on fred weasley where the reader is a pureblood slytherin (introverted, stubborn, etc) and they're in a secret relationship. one day their differences lead them to having a huge argument where their pride gets the best of them and they insult each other (about their hogwarts houses stereotypes, their families, blood status) saying the worst things.

thank you <33

this is my first request ever and i’m so excited! im not rlly sure how i feel abt it but i do hope this fits what you wanted! (900 words)

“I’m tired of us being a secret. I’m tired of being a secret.” Fred said as he closed the door behind him, locking you both in the potions classroom that was now abandoned and empty.

“What?” You scoffed.

“I can’t keep doing this. Hiding our relationship from everyone. Why can’t we just tell them?” He sighed.

“My family, they wouldn’t approve of it, you know that.” Your voice was small.

Your family’s views were strict and old fashioned. They were against wizards or witches and muggles being together, especially getting married and having children. They called anyone They saw and they’ve pushed those views on you ever since you were small.

It hurts to say but if they found out you were in a relationship with the type of person they weren’t fond of, someone like Fred Weasley. You’d be shamed and disowned in less than a minute.

“I don’t care what your family thinks! Why do you care so much about what they think?” Fred groaned. “We don’t have to tell them directly, we can tell other people, let your parents figure it out on their own. They can deal with it.”

“Fred. Our families are-”

“My family has said nothing but good things about you! Hell, George cares about you as much as I do! Yours can’t even return the favor.”

“What? You told your family about me?” Your face slightly dropped.

“Only George…” He trailed off.

“That wasn’t part of the deal.” You spat, the awkward look on Fred's face was wiped off and replaced with anger.

“Deal? What bloody deal? You’re making it sound like this is some bet you took.” He scoffed.

“No! You know what I mean, we promised not to tell anybody.”

“That’s what I’m tired of! How many more times do I have to say it?”

“Fred..don’t you know what they’ll say about me?”

“You won’t be the only one getting talked about. This isn’t just about you!” Fred rubbed his face with his hands. “I should’ve listened to George. He was right.” He mumbled to himself. Your face slowly dropped.

“What?” You spoke quietly, all the volume in your voice had been washed away.

“When I first told George about you, he seemed offended that I could be in love with someone like you.” He spat.

“Someone like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You were taken aback by his sudden change of tone.

“A slytherin. He didn’t think someone as bitter and stubborn and vile as you could love me.” His words stung like acid.

“And you’re not? Don’t you see how reckless and narrow-minded you can be with the things you do?”

The next few minutes were just the both of you taking stabs at each other. Insulting anything you could find one another. You both began to sound like broken records, repeating the same cruel things at each other.

“I’m choosing my own path in life, I’m not letting myself get pushed into something I don’t want to do.” At this point he was just spewing things out, biting back at you, you decided to do the same.

“You mean that little shop you want to open? With all your stupid trick candies? Have you even thought about how you’re going to get it, if you’ll even be allowed to sell things like that?”

“Well, it’s better than being like you and following in the footsteps of your mother.” He shook his head. You scoffed in disbelief.

“Don’t you dare compare me to her. You don’t know how hard it’s been for me. You don’t know what I’ve dealt with.”

“Oh of course, it must be so hard living in that giant mansion, getting everything you want handed on a silver plate.” He fake pouted and mocked a sad voice.

“I’ve worked for everything I have and I'm grateful for it. Have you ever?” He pointed a threatening finger at you.

“Working for it? By stealing and lying? At least I tell the truth.” You shot back.

“Then tell me why you refuse to let us be together in public.” Fred blurted out, you went silent.

“I’ve told you a million times, it’s my family-“

“No it isn’t! It isn’t about them anymore!” He shouted. “Are you embarrassed of me? You can’t be seen with a Weasley?”

“No! It’s not about you, it has nothing to do with you.” Your voice crackled, Fred only stepped back and sighed.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, Y/N.” He ran his hands through his hair.

“I love you.” You blurted out, eyes beginning to water, tears filling them up. Fred was already crying, his teardrops hitting his robes and the floor.

“If you truly do, then you don’t in a way that I can understand.” He sniffled and began to turn away, heading for the door.

“Please don’t go. We can fix this, alright?” You cried as you clinged onto his wrist.

“Either you can stop being afraid and walk out there with your hand in mine,” Fred’s voice was stern as he began to give you his ultimatum. “Or I can leave, alone. And we’ll choose to believe nothing has ever happened between us.”

He stood there quietly while you searched to find the words, hot tears began to stream down your face. Freds eyes were only red and puffy now, his cheeks tearstained.

“I don’t…I don’t know. I can’t.” Your voice crackled as you shook your head weakly, giving an answer that you weren’t even sure of. He nodded weakly and tucked in his lips.

“Alright.” His voice was small. Defeated. Fred looked down for a moment, then brought his head back up and sniffled.

Fred gave you a pained smile. Then left, he didn’t even dare to look at you one last time. Shutting the door quietly.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley blurb #blurb #oneshot #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x gn!reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley angst #requests

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glitteryinknotes · 9 months

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Okay, but what kind of person would Astarion be most attracted to?

I have the image of Astarion softly confessing to Tav "you're incredible" stuck on a loop in my mind, but other than that, it actually got me thinking, just the simple way he says that and the look and yearning behind his eyes. What kind of person would he most likely perceive as such, for reasons he himself might not even understand at the beginning, couldn't resist falling in love with and be most happy & pushed to grow in an eventual relationship with? Here are some my instinctive thoughts.

(please do not get discouraged if you're basing the relationship of your MC & Astarion on different attributes & different ideas; those are only my own thoughts, propably influenced by the kind of character I'm planning to make on my Baldur's Gate playthrough.

Those are both headcanons for the first act, as well as for the official relationship parts.

And please share your thoughts if you have any, i'd be glad to compare my ideas to other people's impressions of this beautiful spawn)

Alas;

Someone joyful, proud & full of life. Astarion yearns to live and taste life on his own terms, having been denied any kind of autonomy & free will for the last two hundreds years, like he himself admits in the spawn ending; presence of someone genuinely full of life, shining, cheerful, dedicated to every small & great bliss the world can offer AND proud of it, despite their precarious situation about the whole tadpole business, would be intoxicating to him. That kind of person around would, for him, be an embodiment of everything he's been deprived of i'm Cazador's slavery; a being so fascinating in their pure, unabashed lust for joy in life, he wouldn't be able to keep them off his mind despite his best efforts.

Someone self - assured. For similar reasons as above. His trauma pushed him to depend entirely on himself & forever be in defense, from a place of terror, insecurity and loathing his past deeds. And so, I believe anyone carrying themselves with their head up high, with true confidence and class, not just masquarading bravado to mask their fear, facing everything fate throws at them with the same unrelenting attitude, would be something irresistible for him on some level. No matter if that very person was luckily spared from harsher life experiences, or traumatised as much as he had been. He would wish with all his soul he could be more like them and learn from them, perhaps even hide behind them to some degree.

Someone with fine taste. It's no surprise Astarion enjoys fine things; it would be his pleasure to be matched in his love for comfort & luxury.

Someone open, yet respectful in their everyday affections. Someone who would proudly peck him on the cheek or neck in the presence of everyone in the camp, but won't be aggressively throwing themselves into his arms each second; someone who would greet him each day with the most blissful smile or a warm embrace, but not too overly dramatic. Someone who wouldn't shy from openly referring to him in front of others in his own renditions of "my love", "my sweet" and "my darling" and who'd always keep an eye on him from the distance at camp ground to smile whenever your eyes met, but wouldn't publicly boast about every single detail between the two of you and allow him to keep his space & secrets. Somene playful, yet incredibly authentic in their feelings. All of that would provide him the so desired feeling of safety, love & genuineness, keep him amused and most importantly, provide him with a trusted learning example of how to act, express feelings & treat the other in a relationship. He might & absolutely will try to publicly brush all those affections off and go his usual suave way about it, but inside, or even openly on his face when taken off guard? His undead heart is singing with joy

Someone gentle & considerate. He surely enjoys someone with fantasy, a playful side and some art in lovemaking, but what he craves more than anything is tenderness & love. Anything you do with him in his mind delights him, and over the time he'd learn to accept it without shielding himself with sarcasm. From some minor gifts, asking for his opinion on matters he wouldn't expect to be asked about, to being considerate & delicate in intimacy, everything is such a gift to him even if he doesn't even know how to receive it & respond properly

Someone with wit. I think he would feel quite at home with someone who would at least partially share his gift for words; maybe in an entirely different manner than him, but even so someone to understand, match and carry on a conversation with him along his suave mannerism and irony.

[Thank you for your attention, might edit or add up later]

#baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion #astarion headcanons #baldur's gate astarion x oc

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robotsandramblings · 3 months

Text

me reading the "new" "canon" heights for the Bad Batch on starwars.com:

nooo thank you, don't like those, i'll stick to the wookiepedia + my headcanons version lol ✌️

i'll save my overall analysis & ramblings for under the readmore

(here's the og thread that brought it to my attention. make sure to read op's corrected version!)

(p.s. the height chart was done by me on heightcomparison.com, it's not an official star wars image -- but the data matches starwars.com)

first off, i will acknowledge that visually, in the show, their heights are always a tricky thing. i've been referencing a bajillion screenshots since i came upon this thread. their comparative heights change in like every screenshot, due to camera angles and/or where they're standing relative to each other. we never get to see all five (5) of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side, in a single straight line, with an eye-level camera shot*.

i'll also acknowledge that i've always just gone off of what wookiepedia says, because it's the closest to an 'official' source that we've ever had -- but it's still not the official source. Here's the wookiepedia version, btw:

and you know what? depending on what screenshot you look at, these can both seem right. sometimes, Tech looks as tall as Crosshair; other times, Tech looks close to Echo's height. (Tech is also rarely at full height -- he's usually got his head and shoulders bent down to read his datapad. i think he slouches too.) i also find Hunter's height varies a lot too, depending on the shot.

Personally, i will be following the wookiepedia version. i think the starwars.com numbers are way, way off. (Warning: here's where the ranting part begins lol)

Wrecker has never, ever been a full head taller than Tech, Echo, or Hunter. what the actual fuck lmaooo

and 7 inches taller than Crosshair?? i don't think so lads

they're tryin' to tell me Echo is shorter than reg height??? bullshit lol. and Tech too??? also bullshit lmao

i refuse to believe Tech is only 2cm taller than Hunter; Tech should be, at minimum, 2 inches taller than Hunter.

i feel Omega's height can vary in the show, like Tech or Hunter as i mentioned. sometimes she seems very small, sometimes she seems taller than i remember.

that all said, i think the height for Omega is correct... for Season 1**. but S2? and now in S3? she's definitely grown a bit.

so i guess if i had to come up with my own numbers, i'd go primarily with the wookiepedia data, with a few tweaks...

Omega**: at least 140cm / 4' 7''

Hunter: 180-181cm / 5' 11''

Echo: 185cm / 6' 1''

Tech: 190-193cm / 6' 3'' - 6' 4''

Crosshair: 193cm / 6' 4''

Wrecker: 198-200cm max / 6' 6''

(i will hold onto Short King Hunter with a death grip until i die. even though i'll admit he looks reg/Echo height in a lot of shots. but i just really love the idea that's he's juuuust under 6' !)

**My headcanon is that in S1, Omega was approximately 10 years old. (which would match with starwars.com data, since average height for a 10-yr-old = 127-137cm.) i'm assuming we're at least 2 years later by S3, so she should be 12, which should put her height at 140-162cm.

i think in the show, they're keeping her closer to 140cm, but i'm equally onboard with her being on the taller side, closer to 162cm. i like the idea that she will eventually grow to reg clone height of 6 feet, thus she'd be on the taller end of "average" child height.

*there is one singular screenshot i came across which might be the closest. however, it's only properly showing the OG four -- Echo is in the shot, but disproportionately in front of them. it's also from their pilot in Clone Wars S7, which arguably was just a beginning stage for them, and changes were made before their own show aired, including the animation style/models.

it would explain where many of us got our idea of Tech = Crosshair same height. but Hunter is also nearly as tall as them?? certainly not 180cm lmao. so idk. take that as you will.

#the bad batch #crosshair #tech #hunter #echo #wrecker #omega #star wars #analyzingsw #sw headcanons #i spent WAYYY too long on this doign research and looking at screenshots lmaooooooooo 😅

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faeriefully · 1 year

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I don’t know if I agree with homeschooling. I always found it doesn’t really expose kids to the real world and kind of teaches them to bubble wrap themselves from the rest of the world. Did you have a good experience being homeschooled and feel differently? (PS. This isn’t supposed to be an argument or a jab, just thinking about stuff!)

Well, in one sense, you are correct.

Homeschooling does not expose children to the evils of the real world before they are ready to comprehend them.

As a child, I was not exposed to porn, sex, drugs, bullying, verbal abuse from my peers, physical or sexual abuse from others, or authoritative abuse from adults.

Now, I'm not saying these things cannot/don't happen within the home. They do, and it's evil. However, there is a far lesser chance of them happening when you, the parent, are actively engaged in your child's life and education.

Instead, my childhood was one of love and support and growth. My interests were fed and developed, and my needs met both emotionally and intellectually by my parents who were both fully invested in my education and development.

My experience with homeschooling (as well as the majority of my friends') is that we were educated at a pace that was our own, many times a faster rate and higher level than our peers within public school. I normally finished all my "in the books" schooling for the day from 10am-1pm. Even so, when compared to my peers, I tested one to two "grades" higher than my age range.

My exposure to "real world" issues was monitored by my parents. I had discussions about what sex, marriage, racism, politics, government, abuse, and various other "real world" topics were at an age appropriate level that gradually advanced until I was about 17 yeas old.

As far as "real world" experiences go:

I volunteered at a hospital during my teenage years. I knew how to work and how to manage my money from the time I was fifteen. (First babysitting, then eventually retail.) I was in soccer as a kid and later did martial arts for ten years. I learned and talked politics with my family and other home schooled kids from the time I was fifteen. I had a class specifically titled "worldviews" in which I learned not only my Christian worldview, but about other religions and politics and current cultural events happening around us. I learned about puberty in a safe environment with all my questions answered and the comfort of understanding what was happening. I never had to deal with crude comments or abuse as a young girl.

I consumed media that was age appropriate and anything I encountered that I questioned or was unfamiliar with, I brought to my parents whom I trusted and would always discuss things with me in a mature manner.

I grew up with a consistent friend group that I trusted and still have to this day, though time has changed our dynamics and relationships. Currently, I'm quite content with my ability to make friends, socialize, and the number of friends I have.

My relationship with my parents was strong and held mutual trust. I was monitored as a small child, but gradually gained more independence as I got older and understood more about the world. If I had questions, I would bring them to my parents with no hesitation, embarrassment, nor fear. That relationship still remains, though now I'm a good number of years into adulthood.

Every challenge I faced growing up, I felt prepared for-- because my parents had taken the time to prepare me for it. In my education, work life, social life. If it was unfamiliar, I would bring it to them, but I rarely had to. I knew how to problem solve and think critically. I knew how to think things through and address adults and those in authority even if I was in an unfamiliar place. I could find my way around situations with little anxiety.

When it came time for college, I tested higher than average and was asked if I'd graduated in the top 5% of my class. I am now in an honors program and recently accepted into the highest ranked honors society across all majors in the country.

What real world experience does a child need that their parents cannot provide them when they actually invest in their children?

Society trains us into believing that a parent cannot provide their child with the education, development, and "experiences" they need. But what are these "experiences"?

Our media is flooded with horror stories and abuse victims of the public school system-- from burnt out teens, to abuse, to drugs and pregnancy, to anxiety attacks, to bullying, to pornography exposure.

What benefit does it give you as a parent or your child to hand them over into the hands of strangers (whom you're told to trust) for 8+ hours a day to sit in a chair and be lectured to with little to no expression or socialization with anyone outside of the classroom environment? They may sit in the same room as other peers (not allowed to move or talk), walk the same halls, eat in the same places, but they are not learning to properly engage with the world around them.

Children primarily interact with others their age during the day, and in what way is their conversations developing life skills that they need? Yes, they have friends and that is good. People need healthy friends. But a majority of the people they engage with are not their friends and they are not learning how to handle tough situations with individuals.

They are learning to judge one another, to morph and fit in, to avoid being bullied, to become the cutout that the government appointed educator approves of.

I always remind parents, schools don't just teach "abcs" and "123s". Schools form your children's entire foundation and worldview. The internet indoctrinates kids more than anything else once you let them have access to it.

Do you trust over 100 other children to have your child's well being and best interests at heart? Do you trust the government appointed official? Do you trust the internet?

Either you raise your kids; or someone else will.

You teach your child; or someone else will.

#homeschool your kids #homeschooling #homeschooled #homeschool #home school #anon #on homeschooling #hall of fame

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nartml · 9 months

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Your misogyny is showing. Get your shit together

(First and last time I'll ever bother with such a rude ask, but I'll use this oh so sugary sweet statement to get some things out the way )

CW: Rant ahead, not Sakura or Hinata friendly, if you disagree and won't be nice about sharing your opinions fucking DNI, this isn't for you.

My misogyny 💀

Because I don't like Sakura and Hinata, I assume? Why is it always misogyny's fault with y'all?

Respectfully, I don't really care about Sakura and Hinata. I'm mostly indifferent to them, but they're fun to criticize, considering there's so many flaws to talk about.

Maybe I was harsh with my words when respectively bashing them, but what I said still objectively stands. Sometimes, not liking a female character has less to do with misogyny and more to do with the fact that they're really, really not that good.

But alas, I sincerely apologize for my just so disgustingly misogynistic words (in case you don't get it, I'm being 100% sarcastic)

In a bit less harsh, more analytical manner, allow me to rephrase:

Sakura is someone who doesn't fit in the Shinobi world. She's too delusional about her romantic fantasies regarding Sasuke to be able to properly advance in such a harsh environment. And Hinata, with or without her infatuation with Naruto, is an incapable kunoichi. She's far too timid and hesitant to be a warrior.

Now, those are not necessarily bad things. Not having what it takes to be a Shinobi can easily be considered positive; be it because you're a hopeless romantic and that hinders your ability to maximize your potential or because you just don't have the spine or endurance necessary to be a badass ninja. Those aren't reasons to violently hate on someone. Specifically about Sakura and Hinata, those aren't even the reasons why so many people dislike them.

Or at least I hope not. I'd understand the point of your ask better if I had said anything derogatory about their appearance, for example. Those types of haters are annoying, and I manage to turn into both Sakura and Hinata's biggest defenders the moment someone says shit that degrades Sakura for her chest or some other bs, and/or fetishizes Hinata in any way. Rest assured, I'm anything but misogynistic.

But oh shit, it's time we realized that Sakura's "feelings" for Sasuke were simply a shallow school girl crush. And that would've been okay, understandable, maybe even a little cute, if it weren't for the way she constantly pushed herself onto him, consistently referred to him as hers in her head, saw him as a trophy, a blank canvas to project her fantasies onto. She was disrespectful, and her confessions were sickening.

Because how dare you compare your loneliness to that of a genocide survivor? How could you make your supposed love's pain all about you? How could you be so ready to abandon your friends, family, life, and future just to follow him to someone who you know would cause him harm, when you so clearly don't even know or understand him? How could you try to minimize everything he went through, try to diminish all he's suffered in the name of "laughing and having fun like the good old times"? "What about me, Sasuke? I'll be in so much pain if you leave. Please, if there's even a small part of you that cares about me, stay". "I can't get close to you, I can't exchange blows with you, I can only whine and beg, it's pretty pathetic. There's nothing I can do for you".

These are all things she's said and/or done paraphrased. There's so much more I don't care to recall. And they're all very annoying.

Her sole motivation was Sasuke; he's the reason she talks about how she'll get stronger to catch up to him and Naruto, about how she wants to "save" him, or "protect" him, about how she wants to be able to "fight for herself next time".

But she never managed to really do any of it, because it was all so surface level. Her aspirations for life began and ended with Sasuke, a guy she ultimately doesn't know a single thing about. That's objectively pathetic.

I don't like her because of the way she treats Sasuke, because of the way she views him, because of the way she's so pretentious about her "undying love" for him.

I don't like anti-sasusakus who come at it from a "Sakura deserves better" perspective, because she got exactly what she asked for; now she even gets to parade around wearing that Uchiha crest like the trophy it is to her, while having done nothing to earn it!!!

But.

Honestly? They're not exactly wrong. Maybe she doesn't deserve better. But her character would, at least if Kishimoto even wanted to write that story.

What do I mean by that? I mean that Sakura, as a main character, does not benefit from her feelings for Sasuke. It's not that Sasuke isn't good for her, it's that her "feelings" for him aren't.

I'll use Naruto as a comparison. His feelings for Sasuke [No, I don't care how you interpret their relationship. If you want, they can be platonic feelings or familial feelings (you'd be wrong but who am I to judge), or romantic feelings] actually serve as his basis for self improvement.

Usually, in media, love is something that drives characters to be better.

Naruto's love for Sasuke is his greatest strength.

Naruto kept getting stronger, with Sasuke as his motivator. Naruto kept trying to understand him, to see things from his perspective, never held any sort of idealistic "Sasuke would never do that" train of thought.

Naruto got to better understand the injustice of the system through Sasuke and his love for him. Naruto initially fought to bring him back to Konoha, not because he wanted to play house with him, or because he wanted Sasuke to cater to Konoha's every whim, but because in Naruto's mind, Konoha is home and it's safe, away from Orochimaru's dirty hands.

But then once he finally understood Sasuke better, once they fought and he carried Sasuke's burdensome hatred with him, he let him go. He let him travel, leave Konoha, without ever asking for him to stay, because he gets it (Unlike Sakura, who still didn't get it, and did the exact opposite)

In Sakura's case, however, her "feelings" for Sasuke hold her back. Though that's a bit of conundrum, seeing as any sort of achievements she's made are directly linked back to her crush. Like I said before, he's her motive. No, it's specifically the shallowness of her love, the half-heartedness in her convictions to improve that holds her back. Her "feelings" aren't as genuine as she –or any of you– likes to think they are, and that keeps her from growing, from seeing clearly (i.e: in the long run, they hold her back)

They're proof of her superficiality. She's too caught up in romanticizing the absolute shit out of Sasuke, too caught up in using him to live out her fairytale dreams, too caught up in asking others to bring him back to her, or whatever. She's too caught up in whether Sasuke looks at her or worries about her to fight properly. And I mean "fight" both literally and metaphorically here.

So yeah, her "feelings" for him aren't good for her. It would've been a much better character arc, in my opinion, something that could be actually empowering that would give her depth, if she had ended up with Lee instead.

Because Lee is the exact opposite of Sasuke, in the sense that he's ugly in Sakura's eyes (I'll state here that I don't think Lee is ugly, bushy brows and all, he's very pretty to me), and so to end up with him, well. That would require Sakura to see past physical appearance.

Sakura tends to be very judgemental of other people's looks, and the way she treats them is often correlated to how beautiful she finds them.

But falling for Lee would've been a great way for her to move past the cover and read the book. Something which could then translate to her being less insensitive and judgy from then on.

[Sakura fans love to point out that she might say rude stuff, but then she regrets it, so it's okay! To that I say, it hardly matters that you regret something you say and promise that you'll be better, if you're just going to repeat the process the next day]

That said, she didn't even have to end up with anyone. She could've remained single, after realizing how wrong she was about Sasuke. She could've stopped pining after him, and gotten herself a goal that is bigger than just ending up with him.

But that's not who she is. That's actually, an entirely different character. That's not how Kishimoto wrote her, and criticizing him because of that is stupid. He knew what and why he was doing it, and the narrative some of you adopt, the one that goes "no, I'm better than so-and-so, this character should've been that way instead", is exhausting.

Sakura fans never represent her how she canonically is. Truly, 100%, the way she's depicted in the show. They nitpick which parts of her they like, and ignore the rest. You guys love the version of her that isn't shallow, that understands Sasuke, that is assertive, that is 3-dimensional; a person whose hard work actually comes to mean something, who is much more genuine about her love for Sasuke, who is by all means an independent badass. The Sakura who is selfless and understanding and a go-getter badass. And that's okay, I guess. But at least admit it.

It's always an outsider commenting on how "she's better than Tsunade" because they saw her punch one time, or "her feelings for you have matured" (something cancelled out entirely by Sakura later). It's always "I've caught up to them" after something that amounts to nothing significant. We're told she's great. We've yet to see it for ourselves, outside of those five? Six maybe? Eight is my being generous. Truly iconic scenes that she has in the entirety of the manga.

I stand by my closing line on her post.

She's foolish, and too caught up in her own romantic, fantasy world to substantially thrive in a reality as cold-blooded as the one she was born in.

And that's all she'll ever be.

As for my girl Hinata. I absolutely stand by everything I said on that post. Not taking a single word back. Maybe Sakura has a few redeeming qualities; like I said, you could explore her character outside of her crush on Sasuke and make a true badass out of her. (While still acknowledging the fact that that's not who Kishimoto wrote her to be)

But Hinata? There's no character to explore. Period. She's nice. Sweet. Kind, maybe? Sweet. Did I mention nice? I should probably not forget to say that she's sweet. Let's not omit that she's privileged and doesn't care one bit that her family is a-okay with slavery!! OH, and she can cook well. She also has those big boobs. And all her symbolism with Naruto was ripped off sns, coincidentally.

She's very passively likable, and the definition of forgettable. Like it or not.

____________________________________________

As for me, I should make it clear here and now that I am no misogynist. I like to think of myself as a very passionate intersectional feminist, who gives credit where it's due.

These two ladies? They don't deserve the aforementioned credit.

Have a great day 💞

#anti sakura fandom #anti ss #anti the last #sns #anti hinata #anti sakura haruno #anti sasusaku #anti naruhina #anti nh #naruto ramblings #my stuff #y'all need to get yourselves some of those shiny critical thinking skills #they're very useful #respectfully fuck off 💕💕#long post #pro sasuke #pro sasuke uchiha #anon #my anti ss agenda

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alexjcrowley · 1 year

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Hi, it's me, the author of the fucked everything au post, this one

I wanted to add some things, feel free to make your additions

-Sherlock is a firm believer in the Doctor, but he think Crowley is the Doctor, just disguised. He tried to nonchilantly pull his "red wig" from his head. (He has never run into the Doctor for some reason)

-Morpheus and Crowley talk shit about Lucifer when they're drunk.

-Watson and Wilson have a bet on whose partner will break the most law in a week. They're always very close wins.

-Dirk Gently and Aziraphale have become great friends, they take tea together every Thursday and they talk about all sort of stuff. Aziraphale finds Dirk captivating in his weirdness, he thinks he is a very interesting human.

-Scooby Doo is afraid of Dog (Adam's dog)

-Gregory House thinks paralibulites is made up, he steals a couple of Todd's pills to analyse them and see if they're like allucinogens but they're not. He forms an alliance with Sherlock to find out what the fuck is there in those pills.

-James Bond can imitate Benoit perfectly but Benoit can't imitate James, he can't get rid of the accent. Q finds James's impressions very amusing.

-Aziraphale and Philip talks about sweet recipes, they also exchange culinary creations, but, while Philip actually makes them, Aziraphale miracles them because he is shit at cooking. Philip always tells him that he is such a great baker and he feels like a beginner compared to him, Aziraphale smiles patting his arm and saying practice makes perfect. When Philip starts asking for details on how to make the perfect sponge cake or a mousse that won't melt, Aziraphale just miracles someone calling him because oh boy he doesn't know the first thing Philip is talking about.

-Both Sherlock and House tried to get Shaggy to sell them marijuana, unsuccessfully.

-Crowley loves to hear House going on and on about how God doesn't exist. It's hilarious for him. He has to physically stop himself from laughing. He pretends to agree with him.

-Dirk is the only one not fazed about Scooby Doo being a talking dog. When Crowley and Aziraphale are weirded out. They're trying to remember if it's one of their old miracles.

-Ascots were invented by Crowley, because they're simply an insult to style, and also he knew Aziraphale would have loved them. He is proud to see Benoit and Fred wearing them, they release a small but effective amount of evil into the world.

-I saw a post on Tumblr, I don't remember by who, that said if Benoit Blanc is with Hugh Grant it means at some point he had to choose between him and Colin Firth, you know, like in Bridget Jones Diary. This is now canon for me. Philip won Benoit Blanc's heart over Colin Firth and Philip hates talking about Colin, the idea that he could lose Benoit over him is just terrible to remember. Also Colin isn't really called Colin his name is Harry Bright. You were fools if you thought I'd leave Mamma Mia out of this.

-Dirk has heard Matthew the raven talk and Scooby Doo talk and now he is convinced he can talk to animals, that's a skill the universe granted him.

-Benoit Blanc and Aziraphale talk about fashion, obviously.

-If Q and Newton Pulsifer ever met all the computers in the world would explode.

-Also here's a small fic I read some time ago that I really love (and it's a House/Good Omens crossover) on how House and Wilson are alive and well in this au

-Dirk actually somewhat counts amongst the supernatural individuals so Crowley and Aziraphale and Dream and Hob started inviting him and Todd to their dinners. The point is Dirk and Todd haven't understood Ineffable Husbands and Dremling are supernatural individuals yet and they just think they're very eccentric folks.

-Dirk stole Crowley's Bentley once because The UniverseTM and Crowley has been trying to kill him ever since, but the Universe won't let Dirk die. This does not interfer with the Supernatural Dinners Aziraphale insists on hosting and the angel made him promise he won't try to kill Dirk at their house.

-He tries not show, but Sherlock is feeling the competitions with all of these other private detectives showing up. Especially Dirk, because he has no idea how they guy does since he looks like an idiot but he is always on top of the cases.

-Aziraphale unsuccessfully tries to buy the old medicine book Wilson gifted house for Christmas.

-Lestrade tried to stop the Scooby Doo Gang from interfering with a police case but ended up talking about cars with Fred and just...forgot he was supposed to stop these guys. He opted for closing an eye. It wasn't even his division, anyway.

-Q and Mycroft have been trying for years to obtain information on Hob Gadling, Aziraphale, Crowley and Morpheus at MI6 because, like, they're weird. They all come from families in which people always had roughly the same name for some reasons, their documents seem legit but there's something wrong about them. Also why is Crowley financing a witch hunting agency. Like yes he looks weird but not let's hunt witches in 2022 weird.

Dirk: "Your name is Sherlock? I have a friend named Sherlock!"

Sherlock: "It's not a very common name."

Dirk: "His name is Sherlock Hobbs."

Sherlock: "...Interesting."

Todd: "So you're like...you're Sherlock...and Watson."

Watson: "There are our names, yes."

Todd: "But, like, just like... Sherlock and Watson?"

Watson: "Yes. Again, these are our names."

-Benoit and Philip are very proud of Fred, they're only worried about his well being always travelling and having to deal with bad guys (especially Philip, he's scared for his son🥺), but luckily Q installed a tracking device in the Mystery Machine

-Sherlock is secretly fond of Steve McQueen the rat and will go to House's house (my God what did I write) just to pet it. House allows it.

-Sometimes Sherlock and House play together, violion and piano. They found out they have more in common than they'd like to admit and that they enjoy eachothers company, even if they'll never say it out loud.

-(btw I think it was @thesaltofcarthage to headcanon that House is Sherlock's biological father and yes it's far fetched but also I am not opposed to this at all, I like it a lot, I vibe with it so I leave this here and give her the due credits).

-The Them ask Morpheus if he is a new Horseman of the Apocalypse. Morpheus simply smiles at them and then tells Adam "My sister likes you" before going his way.

-Aziraphale dislikes Mycroft a lot because may I remind you Mark Gatiss played one of the two Nazis in the church who played Aziraphale for a fool with the book deal. The rest you know yada yada yada Crowley comes to the rescue.

-House often dreams of Fiddler's Green since he is played by Stephen Fry and he and Hugh Laurie are very close friends.

-I like to think Shaggy actually is an failed attempt at an Antichrist that didn't work out and yes he is...someway Lucifer's son. And kind of Adam's brother. But he doesn't know. Also Scooby Doo is an infernal hound like of course. And Shaggy wished for Scooby Doo to be his best friend and like food and be as scared as him of horror stuff so there you have it.

-Aziraphale knows Wilson. He knew John Keating, great professor, and he went to visit him at Welton Academy once. He remember Wilson when he was young, talentex actor, shame he went for medicine in the end, he could really have a future in the arts. Wilson tells himself his mind is playing tricks on him, the weird man he saw with Mr Keating once must be dead at this time.

Last thing I wanna add I didn't expect this whole everything-I've-ever-watched-au to resonate with people and I am happy you like it, I have fun writing but it's even better to share it with someone, please keep adding ideas and crossovers to this. All the comments and reblogs I had under my last posts were brilliant and all together we make a big brain of mind-blowing ideas.

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Note

Hey could I please request Dream's s/o laying down on the couch after a long day, and him carrying her to bed.

A/N: doing small things for the person you love is a louder confession than yelling 'i love you' and you can not change my mind

[Sandman-inspired playlist] || [MASTERLIST] || 🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

Being one of the Endless, the concept of time or schedules was a little lost on Morpheus. To be clear, it wasn't that he didn't understand it, he simply didn't experience the passing of time as people did. Entire centuries could go by and he'd feel as if it was a mere blink of an eye. Because of that, he tended to show up 'at your doorstep' at the most random times during the day. If he had to wait for a few hours, he was okay with that - Morpheus always managed to find something to busy himself with. On that day, he found himself at your home at the perfect time, just not the best day.

He stood in your living room, staring at you lying on the couch. You were curled up, clearly cold, but too tired to actually grab a blanket. Old or unworn clothes were scattered on the armchair and its vicinity. There was a watering can on the coffee table - either misplaced or put there on purpose because it was so hard to miss it. Right, he did remember you tended to forget about it. Next to it was an empty mug so dark with tea residue it had to be used unwashed for at least two days. A strange aroma of both laundry detergent and takeaway filled the air. Your face was strangely dark, greyish as if you had lived an entire month in the span of 24 hours. Was this normal for humans?

"I love you and all that," your raspy voice was muffled against the cushions, "I'd do anything for you but that will have to wait until tomorrow if you don't mind."

"I did not come here to ask for favours." For a moment, Morpheus wondered whether that's how you perceived him. If he had to be completely honest with himself, and that wasn't going to happen any time soon, he'd admit that the only thing he could ask of you was your affection. So far, in his opinion, you were giving it to him willingly.

"Good," you groaned against the pillow. Maybe you were going to say something else but a yawn prohibited you from doing so.

Without wasting his breath, Morpheus effortlessly lifted you off the couch. To him, it was the least he could do for you. Your cheek nuzzled against his chest and he felt his breath suddenly become a little ragged. So much time had passed since someone was so close to him... Dream's old, tired bones were only remembering what intimacy felt like. In any case, he carefully walked towards your bedroom, making sure not to shake you too much.

"You really don't have to," you said in an absent, raspy voice. It sounded as if you were going to fall asleep before he can actually put you to bed.

"I want to." Morpheus had a habit of ending discussions with those words when he was adamant about doing something for you. Most of the time you simply sighed and accepted his expression of love knowing that sometimes it was more important to let him do something for you.

The bed sheets were unpleasantly cold compared to the warmth Morpheus provided. "Don't go," you groaned feeling his arms withdraw. He took in a deep breath, suddenly realizing just how far he was willing to go to fulfil that promise. Even before meeting you, he needed Lucienne to stop him multiple times but now, when you so effortlessly asked him, the imperative that fueled all of his actions was set alight; 'too far' no longer existed. Despite that, Morpheus knew that it was a matter of minutes before you fall asleep. On the other hand, maybe he was simply afraid that giving in even once would turn into a devastating habit. Part of him welcomed that possible ruin with open arms but Morpheus tried to silence that voice as much as he could.

"I shall see you in a moment," he said quietly.

Morpheus left your bedroom and went back to the living room. With hesitation befitting a creature unfamiliar with the mundane, he took the watering can. Walking through your home, he watered every plant there was, passing the time until you fall asleep and he can finally have you all to himself. Morpheus wondered whether this is what life as a human was. In some other life, he'd very much like watering plants for you every day while you take a nap.

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heyidkyay · 1 year

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I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Fifteen

A/n: Hey:) There's a lot going on in this part, but also a new pov, though it's really short! Couple of surprises in here too... haven't been too active as of late either and I'm not too sure when the next part will be out, just struggling atm but I hope you enjoy fifteen!:)

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Body issues, insecurities, panic attacks, lots of emotions basically... but there's some fluff too, very lovely stuffs:)

Masterlist

“You ready?”

My head snapped up at the sound of Lee’s gentle voice. He was stood in the bathroom’s doorway waiting patiently for me, he wore a soothing smile. The unnecessary gesture helped ease my mind somewhat, but I noted that my hand was still trembling even as I moved to stand.

I nodded at him in a silent reply.

Even after the assent, it took me an embarrassing amount of time to pull myself up off the hospital bed- I had been getting better and better at it though. In truth, it had taken everything but a forklift to get me up out of it the first time around, since then things had only gotten easier for me, even with all the aches and pains. Because if there was anything anyone should know about me it was that I was stubborn to an absolute fault.

Lee didn’t comment on the pace though, nor my stiff gait as I slowly made my way towards him. Instead he simply asked me other things to keep my brain active. How I'd slept, if I'd caught up on this new show we'd both been watching, what music Matty'd had me listening to.

“Where’s our Matty today then anyway? Patients have been commenting on the sudden peace and quiet.”

I snorted and Lee, the sweetheart, gave me an apologetic smile when I winced at the sudden pain that flooded my chest. Even so, I was still unable to help the small grin I gave him.

“He’s downstairs getting breakfast with Ross.” I replied, picking at the remnants of the plaster they’d removed from my inner elbow when they’d taken the IV out. “Wanted to be on my own for this part.”

I was gifted an understanding nod in reply to my faint admission, and Lee took my good arm in his when I finally reached him. That was all that was said on the topic.

The bathroom was pretty big compared to what I’d actually pictured the first time I’d tried getting out of bed for a wee. It was a shower room, or that’s what Matty had called it. It had a sink and its very own toilet, but it was essentially just a massive shower. The head was situated on the far side wall and had a square drain just below it, but there were no dividers in the floor that separated the shower from the rest of the room. Only another long drain by the door’s threshold.

It was a pretty cool concept, but I’d yet to put it to actual use. That was what this morning was all about though. And to say that I was nervous would have been a huge fucking understatement.

I inhaled as best as I could whilst my eyes darted around the mostly void space, needing to ebb some of the anxiety I felt, but even that simple task was slowly getting easier for me. I had to admit that Dr. Mann’s advice on doing those breathing and coughing exercises had sounded inhuman and had fucking killed the first few times round, but they were working. Helping a lot actually. And that’s all I could really ask for.

Hopefully soon enough I’ll be out of this place. But I’ll easily admit that I will definitely miss all the lovely patients that have been in and out of here too, as well as some of the wards amazing staff. They’d truthfully been such a massive support system and had helped endlessly when I’d needed a distraction from my own frail state.

“You gonna be okay?” Lee questioned me then, it was a prompt, that much was sure, but his voice held so much sincerity. He was one of the few I’d come to treasure most.

I glanced towards him and forced myself to give him a verbal response, after all he’d had to put up with my silent nods and moody cues all morning.

“Yeah.” I breathed, eyes dancing away from his again, scared he’d see through my lie. “And you’ll be just outside the door, in case I need you?” I added quietly.

“Just a shout away.” Lee reassured me in that sweet tone of his, rubbing at my forearm once before evidently letting go. He gestured towards one of the bathroom’s corners, “And if you can’t shout, then try and pull that long orange rope for me, yeah? Like we spoke about.”

I swallowed then pulled my bottom lip into my mouth.

Lee must’ve known that I wasn’t in much of talkative mood, because he smiled once more and then went to take a seat back by the bed. I dragged myself to my impending doom, carefully shutting the door behind me.

I took a moment then to centre myself, locking the latch promptly, and then turned to have another look around. A towel had already been hung up for me just by the sink, one from home, and a small array of shower essentials were lined up on a hanger by the shower head, though, the mirror was what caught my immediate attention.

It was something I’d been avoiding each and every time I came in to use the sink or the toilet, now though… I almost felt myself drifting towards it. First with my eyes, unable to draw my gaze away from it for too long, and then with my body altogether. It just seemed to automatically stray in that direction.

Then with a jerk, I realised the intention there and quickly turned away before I could get a close enough look, pivoting back towards the shower head instead. I started it up.

It had been a long couple days. Tiring, although all I'd done is mainly just sleep.

They’d seemed to drag on though, so repetitive, so mundane.

Just meds, meds, meds.

And talk, talk, talk.

I wanted to be out of here already. I wanted to be back home, where I felt safe. Home, where I could hole away for a while and deal with this all properly. Instead of facing it head on whilst having to front a smile for everyone else at the same time.

One bad day. One terrible fucking evening. And now my whole world felt as though it had fallen apart. Like sand seeping through clasped hands.

Usually, I was the one who knew how to deal with it all, with everything life threw at me. I knew how to cope. I was the one who’d always coped. I had to be. I’d always been. That was just how it had always worked. With my dad, then with mum, and the guys…

The water heated beneath my palm. I let my eyes slip close.

I was devastated, honestly. That’s the only word I could use to describe the way I’d been feeling recently.

It felt like I was stuck in this never ending loop, a blackhole of nothingness. A vicious cycle of good and then shit and then fucked. Because when things were finally going good, finally getting better, life would just mow me the fuck back down. Literally, this time around, my mind unhelpfully supplied.

So as I carefully undressed and stepped under the shower's warm water, I had to try very hard not to think back to that night. To the screech of tires. To the shouts of my name. But the water it reminded me too much of the rain. It itched and it burned my skin. And it all felt a little too much.

Blindly I swatted outwards towards the shower’s temperature dial, turning it and turning it until I shocked my body back to the present with a sharp stinging cold.

I had yet to even open my eyes either. To peer down at my battered body. The scars that marred it, both new and old. And still, I wanted to cry.

I swallowed, again. But that lump I felt forming in the back of my throat was only growing. I had to lean against the wall to stabilise myself, body shaking now. Panic coming in waves. I only had one free hand, the other in its cast and wrapped up tight, impenetrable to the water. I used it to soften the fall of my head when I let it hang, unable to hold it up much longer.

My hair was wet, I could feel it clinging to the back of my neck. I promised I’d try to keep it out from under the spray, the wound they're still tender. But now it was wet and I’d gone and broken that promise. That thought only crumpled me further, cowering me in the corner just outside the spray’s cold curtain.

My chest heaved even in the frigid room and the water clung to the tiles and to my skin. It made me shiver even though I felt like I was close to melting.

My ribs hurt, my whole upper body really. And my arm slipped out from under me causing my hand fall to my side. Thoughtlessly I laid my fingertips against the skin there, wondering briefly if it was yellowing, or if it was still black and blue and purple. My breath hitched when I felt the new groove there. The line that numbed my fingers enough for them to dart away on their own accord. My arm followed just behind them and I found myself slumping, turning and slipping further down the tiled wall. Everything so cold.

I don’t know how much time passed before a tentative knock sounded on the door.

My head darted up so quickly I fretted over whether or not I’d just added whiplash to my extensive list of injuries. But I had to make sure that the door was still locked. That no one else could get in. I didn’t need anyone seeing me like this.

“Y/n? You alright in there?”

It was just Lee.

“It’s just Lee.” I whispered to myself then inhaled sharply, ignoring the heat that licked its way through my chest. I forced a bravado. “Yeah!” I called back to him over the strength of the shower, “Fine!”

“You sure?”

“‘Course! Be out soon.”

I heard his hummed assent and then saw his shadow disappear from beneath the door.

Fuck.

“Fuck!” I huffed, digging a knuckle into the corner of my eye and forcing myself to toughen up. “Fuck.” I repeated again, even softer than the last. The panic still looming.

I strained myself trying to stand, gripping the nearby bar to aid me, but I did it in the end. And I had to push everything out of my head during the next few moments that followed, strategically washing myself down and rinsing off before I could crumble again. I kept my eyes tightly shut throughout it all, dismissing the more tender areas of my mangled body and focusing on the task at hand.

I could only assume that it was over in minutes, but those minutes had felt like hours to me. It’d almost been torturous.

I was quick to step away from where I’d been toying with the spray, too scared to fully submerge myself under it again, and was cautious not to slip as I tiptoed my way over towards the towel.

It was honestly by chance that I happened to look up when I’d gotten the towel wrapped round me, only to see that I was in line with the mirror.

So I stood there, bare feet pressed against the chilly laminate tiles beneath me, and tried to keep my breaths even. Match the heartbeat I heard in my left ear. The fine cut of silver that hung above the sink stared back at me mercilessly, and although now it was slightly fogged, I couldn’t find it in myself to tear my eyes away. The girl who stood within its four harsh lines was the same person I’d always been, only this girl, she was also the person I’d been running from. Trying to escape. For so, very long.

I watched when the smudgey girl walked closer to me, then observed the way she held up a frail hand to wipe at the chilly glass. The sound it made echoed within the room but it cleared the steam.

Looking, I saw that her hair was long -unruly, really- longer than it had been in years. The ends of it they crept their way across the line of her shoulders and like ivy they intertwined, framing her features and darkening the colour that normally resided in irises so bright and alive. Those eyes were somewhat sunken this morning, hazy, hidden beneath heavy lids and black lashes that were long. The skin beneath them dark, only emphasising the vivid scarlet that rimmed her waterline and shot across the whites of her eyes like lightning.

Her cheeks were hollow which only made her look all the more gaunt. Haunted almost. And were exaggerated by the gloomy shadow of sodden hair that had fallen into her face. I blinked, watching the way she licked lightly at her muted pink lips. They were dry, bitten and frayed from hours of relentless anxiety, but parted ever so slightly that her hot breath was able to fog the mirrored glass a tad.

The face she wore was young, unlined by worry, supple yet sharp. But had also been kissed by the cruel blades of glass and falling debris, spoiled by fading bruises that crept across the skin of her jaw and temples. Those bruises trickled though, inch by inch down her body, over her shiny collarbones and beneath the towel she’d swaddled herself in.

Some, a mere few, had described her face as beautiful, effortlessly pretty, but if she was being honest, deep down she knew that it was just a mask. A disguise used to conceal everything she herself didn’t want to see, didn’t want to seep out and taint what little good remained of her.

I gazed at the sad reflection, and it gazed back at me. I had to bite back and swallow down the fear that crawled its way up my throat- because yes, she was pretty, but she was also ruined, monstrous, and marred. The accident only further proved that point and I had to stand there and just stare, picking myself up piece by piece.

And believe it or not, it wasn’t for the first time. I found myself wondering over how many pieces I'd lost, missing or scattered, like that of an overused puzzle.

—ROSS’S POV—

“Fucking stupid.” Ross mumbled hotly under his breath, wondering why he’d ever even agreed to helping out in the first place.

“Oh just piss off, Ross.”

He turned his head and sent a bored glare in the direction the voice had come from. Matty was on the other side of the room from him, playing with blankets and pillows, and just being an overall twat really.

“You piss off. How the fuck have you had me standing here for the last fifteen minutes? My arms are aching, mate.”

Matty merely rolled his eyes and Hann, who was a way away, holding up the other end which belonged to one of the endless supplies that Matty had coerced him into bringing over, sighed too. For a minute there Ross actually thought he was going to have some back up, but knew he was wrong the second Adam opened his fat mouth.

“Toughen up and hold it higher, would you?”

“Yeah, what Hann said!” Matty snarked, looking back at them from inside the fortress he’d started to build. “Besides, you’re a fucking tree, Ross, this should feel like light work to you.”

Ross’s eyes only narrowed further and he had to clench his jaw to keep from actually decking Hann and Matty both when the pair of them only continued to hassle him over his placement of the string. He just hoped that Y/n showered quickly.

—

Even though it’d been a fucking task, one which left me feeling drained and scrubbed raw. It also did feel really good to be clean again. No more blood or sweat.

I’d long since shut the shower off and had to call out to Lee to ask for the clothes I’d accidentally left on the foot of my bed in my haste to get this whole thing over with, as well as my reluctancy to even go through with it. My head had been a mess, in shorter terms, so it was just a surprise that the clothes had been the only thing I’d forgotten.

Although, instead of the neat pile I’d made, Lee had slipped a baggy through the cracked opening I'd made in the door whilst cowering behind it, wrapped up securely in my towel. I’d frowned and told him he must’ve misheard me, but the nurse only shook the bag and told me, with a small chuckle, that he definitely hadn’t misunderstood. So I’d taken it and had been so pleasantly surprised by the sight that had greeted me upon opening it up.

My dressing gown! The one I lived when I was home, the same one I’d been gifted a few years ago by my nana. It was the perfect ratio of fluffy to towel, and left you feeling as though you were wandering around a spa. I almost squealed as I draped it over my shoulders, revelling in the immense comfort it brought me even with the struggle to get my casted arm through the sleeve.

I didn’t sneak another glance in the mirror though, mostly due to the fact that I couldn’t face it, but also because already knew that I was sporting a smile. It was a very thoughtful gift and I wondered over who had the foresight to bring it to the hospital for me.

Nevertheless, I upturned the rest of the bag I’d been handed and found that the gown hadn’t been my only gift. A pair of newly brought slippers rested at the bottom, alongside a silk hair-tie and a pair of… lacy knickers.

I snorted out loud at the sight of them, instantly clueing onto the suspect at hand. Only Healy would push his luck like this. But I still slipped into them, as well as the slippers that felt like an honest to god dream. Then took the time to try and tuck the damp strands of my hair into a loose ponytail with the tie I’d been gifted, but it was a shoddy attempt due to me being only one handed and unable to tug my arms up any higher than my waist. And that was with me really trying, too.

I sighed huffily to myself and gave up after the third attempt, but didn’t let it dampen the warmth that had shrouded me since I’d received the goodie bag. Though, I did find myself having to take a couple more breaths before I actually unlocked the door and pulled it open.

I didn’t know what I’d expected waiting on the other side of it. Perhaps Lee lounging on one of the many chairs that scattered the room, or Matty and Ross pissing about after having returned from the canteen. But this.. this surely wasn’t it.

“Surprise!” The four boys shouted at me. Ross wearing a fancy tiara and grinning like a clown from where he’d made himself comfortable on the end of my bed. Hann holding a tray of cupcakes topped with chocolate and fondant whilst giving me a lopsided smile, one that sort of gave away his helpless shrug and said, ‘Sorry if you hate this but here you go’. Lee was there too, chuckling away at the picture my face must’ve made, recording it all on someones phone. And then there was Matty, who was beaming brightly just by the bathroom door with his hands hidden behind his back, rocking in place.

My mouth was wide open and swinging in complete truth, this was all so incredible. From the buffet of snacks that had been smuggled in, as well as the banners and streamers that were hung up on the walls, to the balloons which littered the corners of the room and made the entrance to the pillow fortress that had been made even grander.

My eyes, watering and bright, darted between the four as I struggled to find the right words to say, or any words at all.

“Wow.” Was what I settled on and chuckled along with the rest of them even when Matty pulled me into a hug. “Did you plan all this?” I whispered out loud, wet gaze still jumping around what had once been my dreary hospital room.

Matty’s grin when he pulled away from me was only that much brighter and he nodded at me rapidly before he asked, “You like it then?”

“Like it?” I breathed out in awe, “I fucking love it.”

I turned to the rest of them on shaky feet, “Thank you. All of you. I- I don’t know what to say to be honest.”

“How about dig in?” Ross decided for me, already jumping up to cross the room. My attention followed his. “I picked up a Chinese a while ago and it’s been sat in that bag just waiting for me.”

I cracked an airy chuckle and rolled my eyes at him before gesturing to go ahead. “By all means, mate. Hate for you to go hungry on my account.”

Matty snorted from beside me and I glanced over when he leant in closer and whispered, “Watched him eat three cookies and eight of them mini sausage rolls before I had to have Hann take over unpacking everything for him.”

“Sounds about right.” I hummed, taking a cupcake from Adam when he approached whilst Matty darted his way over to take the phone from Lee. I could only assume that they'd started watching it when the two of them begun chuckling and smiling down at the thing. “Thanks again, for the cupcake and the party.” I smiled towards Adam and took a small bite out of the side of the frosted treat, “So, who’s bright idea was all this then?”

Hann quirked a brow in retort that told me more than his smirk ever did. “Do you even need to ask?” He jerked his chin back over towards the curly haired prat in the corner. “Texted me late last night, wanting to cheer you up.”

Ah.

I nodded at Hann slowly. Last night had been a tough one. I’d felt grim. The pain wouldn’t subside so I couldn't sleep. And I was non-stop crying. Just fraying at the edges, waiting to come undone.

Matty had been there though, alongside the doctors and Lee. I hated the thought of them seeing me like that, so weak and fragile. Even a bit embarrassed about the whole charade now I was stood with Hann. I tried to ignore it.

“Carls should be by too,” Adam mentioned to me, “Wanted to stop in after work.”

I grinned, I loved the party they'd thrown but seeing Carly right now would probably top seeing Bowie play live. Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. But I’d only seen her in brief passing this week, when I’d been hazing in and out of sleep due to the medication I’d been on. But I did know that she’d stopped by an awful lot though, I’d woken up to see flowers on the sill, and my favourite chocolates on the side. Her lovely perfume always seemed to linger too.

The late morning quickly bled into afternoon and I found myself forgetting about pain and hurt and lies. Just bathing in the warmth I felt surrounding me. Lee had gone back to making his rounds but said he’d be stopping in again before he finished. Leaving me with two adult children and an annoyingly loved up couple when Carly finally arrived. I made the most of it though, because I loved them. And I could see the amount of love they had for me in return during the time we spent playing board games and talking and gossiping about ours lives and just laughing.

It all felt so surreal.

It was actually long past visiting hours when the nurse on-duty finally had to kick Ross, Hann and Carly out- but they’d only been able to stay as long as they had because no one else on the ward had had any complaints about them, seeing as we’d passed around the shit ton of food Matty had gone and ordered.

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling away though even as the door shut behind the three. I was sad to see them go but still so energised by the good time we’d had.

“Oi.”

My head turned towards where Matty’s voice had come from and frowned when he was nowhere to be seen.

“Matty? Where the fuck are you?” I asked around an amused snort. I really shouldn’t have been all that surprised when he stuck his head out of the fort he'd made with spare sheets and filled with pillows, but somehow I was.

“You coming or what?” He beckoned me.

I stared a him for a very long second before an airy laugh escaped me, the only sort that didn’t seem to hurt all that much these days. And without another word said, I stood and made my way over to join him, smiling in appreciation when he gave me his hand so that I could lower myself down onto the floor.

“Your castle awaits you and all that crap.” Matty whispered to me with a goofy grin and helped settle me into a comfortable position, one where a mountain of pillows was able to cocoon my body.

Once I was okay and ignoring the twitch in my back, I could finally glance about the place. I hadn’t had the chance to look it over before with all the excitement that'd been going on, but it really was incredible. Somehow Matty had managed to wrangle up an impressive number of sheets which stretched from one side of my bed over to two chairs he’d found, he’d strung up a few strings of battery operated fairy lights that trailed from one end to another, and had my laptop already opened up to Netflix.

The smile I broke into stretched my skin when Matty pressed play and the intro to one of my all-time favourite films begun to play. It then grew impossibly wider when he pulled a bowl of popcorn out of nowhere and nestle it between us.

I had to reel it in a tad, I knew that, but it was hard. I didn't think many people had gone so above and beyond for me before. I felt truly loved.

“This better be salted, Healy.” I told him with a mock stern expression, cautiously taking a piece from the bowl.

Matty rolled his eyes at me, “Yes, alright, Drama queen. Don’t have a conniption on me.”

My mouth quirked on its own accord. “Be the best place for it, but I’d hate to go and ruin your plans.”

With an exasperated shake of his head and a hidden smile that wasn’t quite so hard to see, Matty stole a handful and popped some into his gob. “It’s salted, princess. Promise.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “For your sake you’d better not be lying.”

He laughed happily. “What’ve you got against sweet? Or buttered, or God forbid-”

I shot a hand out to clasp it over his mouth. “If you dare say toffee, I swear.”

“Toffee.” Matty finished, having licked my palm to free himself from my hold. I grimaced at both the foul gesture and the flavour.

“It’s the worst kind!”

“As opposed to stuffing your face with salt? It just dries your mouth out.”

I levelled him with a serious look, “Says the man inhaling it.”

Matty shrugged at me, eyes locked back on the screen. “’S good.”

He hushed me before I could contradict him and so I simply settled on a well deserved huff, relaxing further into the cushions whilst the films soundtrack played and Matty stole another handful of popcorn from the bowl.

—

My brow pinched when I stirred awake and my entire body ached with it. I hissed quietly to myself as I peered through squinted eyes to try and get a grasp back on reality.

It seemed like Matty and I had fallen asleep in the fort whilst watching old film classics late last night and if the sun, which skittered through the opening of sheets surrounding us, was to be believed it was now early morning.

I rubbed at my tired eyes then practically jumped out of my skin when Ross’s giant head popped into view at the entrance, scaring the shit out of me. I put a hand to my heart as an inaudible gasp bypassed my lips and had to narrow my eyes at him when he merely laughed in retort.

“Knob.” I cursed him, sniffing before I caught sight of a still-sleeping Matty sprawled out beside me, mouth wide open and catching flies, his head nestled into my side.

“You love me really.” Ross replied rightly as his gaze skirted between us. His happy expression dimmed by a couple dozen bulbs and was rapidly replaced by a solemn sort of smile, “Er, you fancy coming out to join me? And maybe not waking him up whilst you’re at it.”

At the confused face I pulled, Ross just gave me an imploring sort of look with his eyes that I couldn’t outright ignore, and so when I carefully nodded in agreement he stuck out a hand. Slowly but surely he pulled me from the makeshift tent and with a pained wince I thanked him.

“Don’t thank me just yet.” He replied and the furrow between my brows only deepened at his words.

“Ross, what-”

But my sentence was immediately cut short when my eyes met the shrivelled figure who was stood by the door, their face a priceless picture, appearing as though they were about to make a dive for the window instead of the actual door. Desperation and guilt swarming every fibre of their being.

“George?”

Part sixteen>

91 notes · View notes

valkeakuulas · 5 months

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14, post-o66 echo/rex 👁👄👁

Y'know, I don't recall writing about this ship before. Especially when it comes to the Bad Batch timeline. 🤔 So here goes nothing! This also grew legs and skittered out of my hands, turning into a lot longer before I managed to pin it down and finish it. Whoops?

Mistletoe: Mutual Pining

Echo stood in the shadows of the repair shop's massive doors, watching the traffic going up and down the underworld portal. Behind him, he could hear the music flowing from the floating speakers as well as the low conversation between the freed troopers and the Martez sisters.

Sighing, Echo closed his eyes and listened.

Just like their mutations, the Batch sounded different compared to the rest of the troopers, and while Echo had grown used to them, hearing more than one vod speak with that same, familiar voice soothed something deep inside him. It reminded Echo of his life in the not-so-distant (depending on how one looked at it) past when he'd been wearing white and blue.

"I was wondering where you'd go," one of those voices spoke behind Echo, making him shiver involuntarily as it had so many times before, ever since that cold, desolate moon.

Maybe not that same after all, Echo corrected himself as he turned slightly. Natborns might mix them up but vod could always recognize another one vod from voice alone.

He saw the smile first, small but sincere, before meeting Rex's eyes.

"Just needed a moment, it's been a while since was surrounded by this many people," Echo replied with a small smile of his own.

Rex hummed, thoughtful as he came to stand next to Echo, their shoulders almost touching. He looked at the never-ending traffic as well and it took Echo everything not to lean against Rex as he waited for his Captain Rex to speak again.

"It's been a while for me too," Rex said eventually, "I was on my own quite a while before Rafa and Trace helped me to free more clones." His brows drew together, the smile turning into a mild frown. "Never crossed my mind that I'd end up in a situation where I wouldn't be surrounded by vode. We clones aren't really meant to be alone."

He glanced at Echo. "I'm glad you had the Batch, Echo" Rex said, serious.

"And Omega," Echo had to add, witnessing how Rex's lips twisted, fighting a smile.

"And Omega," Rex amended, "she's different, that's for sure, but very brave as well as smart."

They both couldn't stop their grins as they recalled how the tiny girl had clocked Rex's age with one glance, effectively calling him an old man.

They fell silent again and another piece dedicated to the Life Day started in the background, the velvet-like voice of the singer crooning about curling together with their loved one under the Life Tree.

Echo felt his face warm up a little as he recalled another memory or, more accurately, a dream from the past. One that he hadn't dared to speak to anyone besides Fives and even that had been when he'd been drunk off his ass. Both of them had been drunk offf their asses.

Just like the singer, Echo had once dreamed of closing the distance between him and the man standing next to him, to hold Rex close and whisper words of love into his ear.

But that had been before Lola Sayu, before Echo had been blown to bits. Before the galaxy Echo had known and trained to fight for had turned upside down.

"So what do you think of this whole Life Day thing?" Echo heard Rex ask, the question effectively stopping Echo's thoughts before they spiraled further.

Echo shrugged. "I faintly recall Commander Tano telling something about it but not much. At least nothing like this."

He used his thumb to point back inside the repair shop and the colored lights, the fake tree, and the sparkly decorations the sisters had pulled out from some crates. The repair shop was too large to decorate completely but one corner of it had turned into a glittering, colorful nook like Echo had never seen before.

Omega and Wrecker would love it, Echo mused with a grin.

He turned to Rex to say that, only to freeze when he found the other staring right at him. Those gold-brown eyes were intense, scanning Echo's face almost as if it was a map that Rex needed to memorize.

"You miss them? The Batch?" Rex asked suddenly, jarring Echo once again.

"I do? Kind of hard not to after what we've been through," he replied, slow, uncertain what Rex was aiming at.

Whatever it had been, Echo's answer made him turn away again, and Echo got the sense that Rex wasn't all that pleased with it.

"I miss you, too," Echo blurted, eyes widening when he realised his mistake. "The 501st, I mean," he hurried to add when Rex turned towards him again, "the General and Commander, Jesse and Kix, Axe and Denal. Fives. I miss all of you."

The look Rex gave him wasn't as intense as it had been before but it still had Echo holding back a shiver.

"I miss them, too, Echo," Rex admitted quietly, "and I miss you as well."

Something twinged in Echo's chest and it had nothing to do with the tech embedded in his body. He opened his mouth to say, well, Echo didn't know what he was going to say but before he could, a light movement in the corner of their eyes caught Echo and Rex's attention.

Both of them turned sharply towards the repair shop, only stopping when they saw a branch of something green floating in the air before them.

Except that it wasn't floating; a closer look revealed a cord wrapped around the plant that was slowly moving closer.

Confused, Echo followed the cord and blinked in surprise when he spotted Gregor standing on the stack of crates next to the repair shop doors and, as it happened, next to Echo and Rex as well.

"What the - ?" Echo started just as Rex groaned, suffering.

"Gregor..."

"Nuh-uh, you know the rules, Rex," Gregor informed with a grin as he angled the plant right above them, "if you find yourself under a mistletoe, you need to kiss, otherwise you'll be hit with bad luck."

Echo felt his face heat up at that, his heart twinging again at the idea of Rex kissing him. He didn't know what kind of expression he was wearing but Echo feared it looked too close to a hopeful one.

Trying his best to push it away, Echo glanced at Rex, finding him once again staring at him. And, as Echo watched Rex, his gaze flickered down to Echo's mouth and oh, the flash of teeth as Rex bit his bottom lip nearly had Echo losing control of his knees.

The mistletoe swayed as Gregor shook it. "C'mon, you two have been mooning over each other long enough."

"There's been no such thing," Rex informed Gregor sharply but he didn't look away from Echo, who felt his jaw drop when a light blush dusted Rex's face.

Clearing his throat, Echo gave another look at the mistletoe. "Bad luck, you say? Think it'll hit me double hard since I'm already part of the Bad Batch?" he drawled.

The surprised snort Rex let out eased some of the tension in the air. "Don't think it would be a good idea to find out," he said, aiming for nonchalance but, just like Fives once upon a time, Rex had no sabacc face and he failed rather miserably.

That, and the look Rex was giving at him felt very similar to the one Echo was giving to him.

"Echo...," Rex started, hesitant.

For a second Echo thought about all the times he had wanted to confess his feelings to his Captain, to tell Rex just how much he meant to him.

Echo had survived against all the odds that had been stacked against him since Kamino. Maybe it was time to test if this was just another odd he was meant to win.

Swallowing, Echo stepped forward, closing the distance between him and Rex. He saw Rex's eyes widen in surprise when their chests touched. But instead of moving away, Rex's hands came to rest on Echo's hips, warm and gentle.

"I don't know about you, Rex, but I'd rather kiss you than tempt fate," Echo murmured as he wrapped his arm around Rex's shoulders. "If that's alright with you?"

Breathing shakily, Rex closed his eyes for a second, visibly gathering himself, before opening them again. "I'm more than alright with that, Echo. More than you can ever imagine."

Echo didn't know which one of them moved first but it didn't matter because they were kissing. After so many years, Echo finally got to kiss his Captain.

Above them, Gregor let out a loud hoot, one was nothing but pure glee:

"I told you that it would work, Nemec! You owe me ten credits!"

#Echo #Captain Rex #Star Wars: The Bad Batch #Star Wars: The Clone Wars #asks #softurl #fanfiction #askbox writing prompts #valkeakuulas writes AKA butchers English grammar #OTP #clone shipping #Captain Gregor #he makes an appearance #an important appearance

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broomsick · 8 months

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Is it alright if I ask you for some guidance on connecting with the Norse pantheon? I'm entering into a really scary time in my life, grappling with going to college in the city despite being (up until now) a lifelong country bumpkin and possibly even moving out for the first time, all while being a timid autistic person with a terrible anxiety disorder.

Basically if there's ever a time I'd need the gods to be present in my life it's now, but I still struggle to feel connected with them sometimes. I still connect with them, I've had dreams where I talk with Odin and Thor and Freyr, but I can't say they're a completely consistent part of my life. Sometimes I even question if they're really protecting me, even though I know that's almost certainly the anxiety talking.

Is there anything you'd recommend doing to connect with the gods during a really stressful time? I have a very small and honestly not very impressive altar so maybe I should work to spruce that up more. Any guidance would be appreciated, sorry for bothering you 🙏 Thanks!

Hi there! First of all, I want to tell you that moving out is indeed scary, and it's very brave of you to consider moving so far! I definitely understand your situation, as I haved struggled with anxiety pretty much forever. Unfortunately, being a pagan with this sort of mental health challenge can bring about a lot of insecurity. And I find that sometimes, it can also make us feel disconnected from our spirituality. I don't think that this is something we can completely overcome. As a matter of fact, I find that it's better to ask yourself "why do I feel this way right now?", rather than say "I should be feeling this way, so why don't I?". What I learned with time is that our day-to-day circumstances affect our spirituality more than we think. For example, I often start to feel disconnected from my spiritual life when I've had a stressful week at work, or even just when I try too long and too hard to connect with the Gods. And on top of that, with social media being the way it is, people cant help but compare themselves with pagans who have more time and money on their hands. Now, I'm no expert on all things psychology, but I do know about spirituality. And I know that it comes and goes in waves: every single polytheist I've met experiences moments when they don't feel as connected to their Gods as they used to. Even those whose very career was tied to their spiritual practices. But those are not bad news! It only means that you have a healthy relationship with spirituality, and that you're not letting it overshadow the other important aspects of your life.

But more on the tips to stay connected to the Gods. What I know for certain is that sometimes, we have no control over how connected we feel to them. But there are a lot ways for you to keep them close to your heart. The first, in my opinion, is to make your spirituality into a safe and happy place. Find ways to make it fun! By listening to music that feels spiritual to you, writing down prayers or devotional poems when you’re inspired, wearing a piece of jewelry in their honor, making a Pinterest board into a little online shrine, drawing a rune or sigil which represents them on your skin, making art of the deities you love… In other words, don’t be afraid to mix your passions and your faith. No matter how “casual” it may feel! Sometimes, “casual” is what we can manage given our busy lives (which is why the size of your altar does not matter, it’s the love you pour into tending it that makes all the difference). It’s both perfectly normal and healthy. And if something about your practice/belief doesn’t feel right anymore, simply let go of it. Same goes if you don’t resonate with something that every other pagan seem to do.

Another tip I can give you is to simply try (don’t worry, I will elaborate). By this, I mean adopt simple gestures to honor them, even if there might not necessarily be a response. I find that this is especially important in moments when you struggle to feel the presence of your Gods. Leave them a small portion of your dinner every now and then. Do a little bit of research on this or that deity when you can. And if you’ve got the time, offer them a fruit, or a cup of coffee! Anything will do, no matter how small. Light a candle for them every night (routine helps a lot), and pray if you’ve got something on your mind. It’s normal not to see some sort of immediate response. But if you look around yourself during the day— if you look at the sunset on your way home from work, at the trees that rustle with the wind, or at the rain pouring outside your window—, and if you listen carefully to what people tell you, you might start to notice some signs. Recurring patterns and omens are a typical example of signs that a deity might send. It’s also fun to draw parallels between every day things and your deities. For example, to think of Freyr when you tend a cute new house plant. Or to pray to Skaði during a snowstorm! I have always loved “inviting” deities to witness certain events, so as to share the joy with them. I simply close my eyes, focus of the deity I want to call out to, and speak their name aloud, or murmur it. Actually, if you’re interested in this topic, I have written this post, which could be helpful to you!

Don’t be afraid to keep trying, that’s my most important tip. There’s really not much else we can do when we feel disconnected from our faith. Make your belief into something that feels right. Spirituality should be a happy place for you, and not a reason for worry. You deserve for your practice as a norse pagan to feel joyful and fulfilling. Above all, don’t force anything: these sorts of moments are inevitable. I’ve known them myself, and so has every other pagan. But things will get better soon, that I guarantee!

#norse paganism #norse gods #deities #paganism #deity work #polytheism #heathenry #spirituality #ask #asks

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prince-kallisto · 12 days

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I remember seeing your art of Crowley as the cover of Butcher Vanity and I wish to share the possibility of cannibalistic Crowley

Due to this and instances of crows eating small animals(I'd show more examples but I'm kinda busy so I'm sadly only able to provide this) this means that Crowley will also eat small birds or birds in general i.e bird beastmen

Since there seems to be a small number of bird beastmen and due to how they're hardly mentioned and such, I like to imagine that bird beastmen are essentially endangered but aren't truly seen as a problem

But what's making them endangered? Dire Crowley

Plus his favorite food is wild game, aka meat. And what do birds and humans have in common? That's right, meat

Imagine he's able to by his hunger and can go a long while without the taste of flesh until it starts to become unbearable and he then consumes some poor soul

I'd go into more detail, but alas I haven't thought about this as hard as I truly should, my apologies

Hello! (＾Ｏ＾)☆♪ Oh wow, these are incredible concepts! I’ve admittedly toyed with the headcanon of cannibalistic Crowley for a while due to the whole carrion thing (the death symbolism in both him and NRC is not for nothing), but I love how you dove more into this concept!

It’s very interesting now that you mention it about bird beastmen, because there’s a relatively popular fan theory of Rook being (or half) a bird beastman! This is an excellent overview of the theory here. I have noticed some interesting dialogue from Rook relating to Crowley- which feels befitting since they seem to both inspired by corvids. In the Special Leason where Crowley drops in, Rook says he feels like the quarry, or prey. I found it intriguing because Rook considers himself to be in the hunter position for even powerful mages like Leona, or even on a much grander scale of Malleus. He also akins birds to beasts and phantoms, at least in the regard of how they lure their prey in with vocal mimicry.

And also, we learn in Leona’s hometown event that bird beastman ARE in fact very rare compared to other types of beastmen 👀 So you were right on the money with that! (Translation credits to Otome Ayui)

Theories aside, I think it’s very interesting that Crowley’s hunger has been emphasized in recent JP content- a type of hunger akin to Sebek’s and Grim’s. I think the mixture of his favoritism for wild game, his crow/raven inspiration, and his hunger was what made Butcher Vanity catch my eye (*´∀｀*) For Crowley to be surrounded in a school full of death symbolism (coffins, ghosts, funeral carriages), it feels inevitable that Crowley’s hunger could get the best of him- a crow to carrion

His favorite hobby is also vacationing…I hope he isn’t going around countries to soothe his appetite in a more secretive way lol,,,

To be hunted by Crowley is a frightening concept 😭 He flies so incredibly fast in his Special Lesson animations- those poor souls wouldn’t stand a chance 😭 But he just can’t help himself I suppose,,, 💦

Thank you for your ask and sending your idea over! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

#tw cannibalism #Crowley thoughts #kallistopost #ask kallisto

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allwaswell16 · 1 month

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Hi lovely and thank for your sharing and caring in this fandom!

A bit finicky question, I'm here with. Don't know if I managed to mention different perspectives enough and contextualize it the way I wanted to, but anyway, do feel free to ignore or maybe just leave some tags:

What are your thoughts, your two pennies and just today (tomorrow is another day and maybe a new perspective), about the conversation going on about the commenting culture (nowadays in AO3):

the lack and/or decline of it

the urgent need for community, engagement, participation and positive feedback loop for authors

but also the growing and changing audience for fanfic

the growing idea that a fic is not a gift (it most certainly is) but some "factory produced and guaranteed content that keeps on coming and you are entitled to it"

the lack of reading comprehension skills

and the lack of skills to figure out the appropriate time and place for giving critique

but also the small but growing portion of authors who demand only certain kind of praise, worded in a certain kind of way and if not delivered accordingly attack brutally on everything and everyone

the cultural differencies as a player in participating, giving positive feedback and even using foreign language words

and of course the ever growing and spreading comment anxiety on "both sides"

and so on...

So how do you see it? What's your perspective? You are both an author and a reader. But then again, you are a reader who writes, so you actually know, what a writer likes to see in their comment field...

Hi, anon! Whew, well this is a lot, but I'm going to answer as much as I can haha. As you said, this is just my own perspective on things. I'd say I also have a little added perspective of being a writer who reads and writes in more than one popular fanfic fandom. So I can't help but compare my experiences in both.

I don't think the One Direction fandom has ever been overly generous with the kudos and comments to be perfectly honest. I think if you talk to writers who are active in other fic fandoms of similar sizes/popularity, they'd likely agree with that.

I want to be clear to start with here that I feel like readers have been very kind to me over the years. I've been here a long time now though, so I get the benefit of the doubt with some long time readers and those who subscribe to my ao3. But I also think that in part I have encouraged comments in a way that not every writer can or wants to do.

I answer every single comment. I answer them in a way that mirrors back the comment that was made. If you leave a long comment, I answer back in detail. If you send me something shorter, (which is fine and I love any and all comments!) I will answer back in a similar way. I also answer back pretty quickly. There are times I get behind, but I rarely get behind more than a month or so. And the day my fic posts, I try to answer every comment that gets posted on that first day.

Am I saying everyone needs to do what I do? Absolutely not! It takes a lot of time and energy to do that! But I do think there's a correlation to be made there. Readers see all the comments, see they're being answered quickly, and feel comfortable or like it's okay to leave one, too. OH, and also I want to say that me answering back (maybe obsessively) quickly is something that probably isn't possible for people who have a fic explode in popularity. I might have some popular fics but none of them were like overnight explosions in popularity. They've all been slow burners lol.

As for concrit with fic...I think it depends on the fandom. It is not something that is looked upon kindly in ours. There are definitely writers out there who ask for it which is fine, but the etiquette in our fandom is not to offer it unless asked for it. In my opinion, this makes a lot of sense for our fandom. Since writers are not getting the numbers of kudos and comments that are given more freely in other fandoms, it's a bit of a hard pill to swallow that we'd then expect them to also take unsolicited writing critiques.

Just using my own fics as an example, by the time I publish a fic multiple other writers have already read it. It's been proofread and betad by a writer with an MFA in creative writing. I'm not going to be taking concrit seriously from someone whose background in writing I don't know. When I publish the fic, it's done, I'm happy with the result, and I'm not going back to it to make changes. So there's not much point in telling me what I should have done differently with it.

Your point about some writers being perhaps overly sensitive about some comments...I wanted to say a few things about. There are a few common comments that immediately came to mind that writers have differing views on, and I think it's worthwhile for readers to think about.

One is something like I wish this was longer or please write more of this. If you comment this on any of my fics, I'll smile and consider it a compliment that you enjoyed it enough to want more. If you go through my comments, you'll see this is indeed what I've replied back to comments like that. There are other writers that are going to be exasperated by that comment or even offended by it. And even though I'm not one of them, I would say try to see it from their perspective.

What if that writer has spent months on that fic the reader considers "short"? I think readers sometimes forget just how much TIME goes into these fics. Just because a fic is 10k, 5k, whatever doesn't mean it didn't take a long time to write. And someone who spent months of time on something who likely didn't receive a whole lot of comments in the first place, and then one of the few comments they get could be interpreted as this wasn't enough. That's disheartening, you know? I think if you have the urge to leave that comment, maybe think first about the writer you're leaving that comment for. Or even think of a different way to say it like, "I could have lived in this fic forever" which is what I like to think is what most readers are trying to convey with comments like that.

Another one is who tops? Just don't, I'd say for that comment. I simply don't answer ones like that. But I'd say check the tags. If it's not tagged, either choose to move on if you have to know to read it or ctrl+F the fic yourself for the word "cock" or whatever. If the writer doesn't tag it, it means they didn't care about that. Or they got annoyed with their fics being reduced to that too often. PWP eh fine, but my 80k amnesia au I had a nervous breakdown writing that has one sex scene...eff off that's not what the fic is about. I once wrote a fic about grief. GRIEF! (well, and Antarctic scientists) that people argued over whether it was bottom Louis. And I resolved to never tag it again after that.

As for the fic as a gift vs not a gift I agree with you...I don't know what else you'd call something that is given for free. That's the definition of "gift." If someone reads the fic, a kudos is like a verbal thank you and a comment would be like a thank you card.

The comment anxiety thing I don't have an issue with myself, but I know writers who do and can't bring themselves to answer their comments. One of my friends feels so badly for not answering but when she tries she says her replies don't feel like enough. It's too bad that she can't answer due to actually loving her comments TOO much! Anxiety is a bitch for sure. For anyone who wants to leave a comment but is worried about it, I promise that super short ones or even keysmashes or emojis are very welcome! I have a mutual on tumblr who leaves the same comment on every one of my fics that simply says she loved the fic and I promise it makes me happy every single time because now I know she read it and enjoyed it whereas I might have missed whether or not she left a kudos. And when I see her on my dash, I think that's the one who loves my fics! :)

I swear I'm gonna stop rambling, but I want to end with one more thing. I think it would be interesting for readers and writers to experience a different fandom sometime if they're only in this one. It's not always a better/worse thing, but it might make people more open to trying new things like commenting/replying more or in different ways.

#tldr i know #ask #anon

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