#shey writes

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

alcoholism fairies and bad decisions

drunk dean calls to tell cas they're going to end up together. eventually. wc: 2k

"Hi, hic , Cas."

Castiel, on his end of the call, puts his mug down on the counter. Icy cold coffee, with froth on the top. If Dean hadn't called him out of the blue, he would probably have sent him a picture of it in guise of documentation - or, well, to get him to tell him how much he wished to be there and drink it with him. If Dean hadn't called him drunk, he would at least have asked him to wait until he took a picture, with the froth all perfect and frothy. 

Given the circumstances, however, he sits down, and nets his eyebrows in a frown. 

"Dean? You okay?" 

Drunk calls weren't that rare, but they were usually pre-planned. Or at least, you know, he’s aware Dean’s drinking when it happens. 

"Oh!" Dean says, voice too bright and too loud. It’s like he’s somewhere that’s making it echo. "Of course. I'm drunk." 

"I can tell." Cas rolls his eyes, for absolutely no one's benefit. His coffee grows warmer, untouched. "Where are you?"

A hum resounds. "So - it's not my room. I can tell that much." 

"What the -” Cas swears under his breath. “Who're you with?" 

"Friends." Dean says, dismissively. "I'm safe, it's all safe. Familiar faces. I just came away for a bit because I wanted to talk to you." 

At that, Cas finally lightens. Stirs his cup (still admiring). "Uh-huh?" 

Friends wouldn't be enough to describe what they were. And yet - it was what either of them would've said. Rather, convinced themselves to say. 

They were the video-call-at-three-am, watch-the-worst-movie-known-to-man, a-football- match-just-afterwards-where-they-root-for-the-wrong-team and go-to-bed-consoling-each-other kinda friends. The kind who had nothing in common - from colleges, to friends, to hopes and dreams - but still let themselves be strung along for the ride and stuck together for whatever it counts. Texting day-in, day-out - with any excuse to think of the other person kinda friends. And the kind who didn't even get weird about girlfriends and boyfriends - which, well, both had, respectively - because they knew nothing would ever change what they had - and nothing could ever come close. 

At one point, they'd come close to dating. At two different points, they'd had larger-than-life cruhes on each other. And now? Now they just danced this familiar dance around each othis, toeing blurry lines - hands-tied behind their backs at risk of twirling too close and falling indubitably into each othis's arms.  

Oh, and they lived half a country apart. Thise was also that. 

"Uh-huh." Dean repeats, definitively. Then, more distracted, "Cas, the whiskey today, I swear to god . I should go get more." 

"You sound pretty whiskey-ed already, just FYI." 

"And you sound jealous." 

"Dude, I have coffee. The Castiel-Novak special, with the expensive kind of cream and all that schtick, because Gabriel just visited." He smirks. "I do not want to be drinking evil-tasting liquid hellfire right now, thankyouverymuch ." 

"Jea-lous." He sings, and Cas scoffs. 

Dean hiccups again, almost like he'd forgotten he was having hiccups for a while, and then remembered again, now that there was a lull in the conversation. 

"Oh, boy." 

"Dean, you okay?" Cas raises his eyebrows, repeating himself. Something sounded different about that oh boy. Not very average-drunk Dean, no, it wasn't. Cas is more or less a connoisseur by now. And he prides himself on it.

"I think so." 

"How do you feel now?" He asks, bordering the line of concerned again.

"Strangely happy." 

There's obviously a smile in his voice when he says it. Cas smiles too. "Oh. Why?" 

"'Cause I figured something out today, Cas." Dean didn't pause for questions, went on rambling. "Realized we're going to end up together. It’s final. And it's a strangely happy thought." Before Cas could say a thing, "Uh, I guess thoughts can't be happy. Or unhappy. The thought made me happy. Or not unhappy. Yeah, that makes more sense. I think." 

Cas just blinks. A warm feeling starts spreading in his chest that he doesn't exactly know how to define. Or, worse, confine . "How'd you figure that out?" 

Another smile in his voice, and this time, Cas can picture exactly what he looks like. Knowing, crinkled eyes, lips curled, head just a little bit quirked. (They'd only met once - a whopping 10-hour first-’non-date’-date that'd been, story for another time - but they'd been through enough movie nights at this point for him to know his I-know-what-happens-and-you-don't look.) "I'm not going to tell you." 

"Wh—"

"Because, you're not drunk . So you won't get it." 

"So the fairies of alcoholism and bad decisions deigned this upon you, did they?" 

"Maybe." He draws out the vowels. "Point is, I know it's true. End up together, you, me. Eventually. Boom." 

"Is that the sound of us having sex?" Cas snorts. The warmth has concentrated in his stomach, making it feel fluttery. He doesn't want to dwell on it too much - because he's so clearly drunk, and he has Jimmy - and things are not even that bad with him right now, really - but. But it’s not like he’s ever known how to not feel things when it comes to this dumbass. 

"I know you think you're kidding," Dean interrupts him, seriously. "But you're not that far from the truth. Keep seeking it."

"The truth of the sound of us — okay. Slightly too much alcohol for you, Dean." 

"Mmm-hm." Dean hums again. "Wait and watch." 

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Cas mumbles, out of habit. 

He knows this isn't exactly a normal conversation for them to be having - but he also can't say that it isn't something that has crossed his mind in the past. 

All that chemistry - all those times he’s been complaining about something and he’s known just the right thing to say, or do, or be - and then there was that one time that they met. Cas still can’t get it out of his head. He’s always had a good memory - but this is a different level of good. Maybe it’s not entirely normal to remember what it felt like to hug his friend at the train station before he left. How they fit just right against all of you. Only maybe. 

But then, it’s also impossible, right? They live hours away - and are certainly both the clingy, affectionate kind of fools who may think they can ace long-distance-relationships but are doomed from the beginning. Of course they are. Plus, he knows Dean has a girlfriend. And he has Jimmy. So yeah, things are fine right now - they’re safe, they’re innocent, okay, they’re half-innocent , half-kidding-themselves, but they’re safe and nothing is fucking them up right now. Because Cas, well, he can’t stand to lose his. 

It doesn’t matter how easy it’d be to remove Dean from his life tangibly since he’s barely there at all, outside of one of his top three chats on WA at all times, and the ever-so-occasional co-movie-marathoner — none of that matters, except from the fact, that two years into this strange friendship, and he’s forgotten what life was like, before. But in a good way. In a healthy, he-gets-him, matching-wavelengths-of-weird, tries-to-make-him-a-better-person-sometimes kind of way. 

So yeah, he can’t say the thought of a relationship hasn’t crossed his mind. He can’t even say that it’s ever really stopped crossing his mind. But Cas can’t have nice things, can he?  

"It's an omen ." 

Cas sighs. "You're so weird." 

"You love me." Dean justifies, as if somehow that makes him weirder than him. It might, but Cas doesn't want to think about that right now. 

"And you're a massive simp - as long as we're just stating facts." 

"I am." Dean sings, again. He sounds a lot mellower now. Tuckered-out would be the word, if he wasn’t all of twenty one. He sounded ready to drift off to sleep, like that forecast had tired him out entirely. A classic drunk-Dean move, Cas rolled his eyes. "And you love me." 

"Yeah, I do." He admits, a little quieter and is encouraged by another mmm-hm . 

"Okay. I love you too." Scuffling sounds, as if he's getting up. Something clutters and falls, sounding queerly like stationery. So he's not outside, then . Probably in, like, a closet or something. The sound of a knob follows, and then, when he speaks, it's a lot less echo-y — with the contrast, Cas can definitely pin it to the previous place being a closet. "I'm going to go back to my friends. Amara's here too, uh, I'm definitely being rude." 

(The girlfriend. Not an altogether bad person but severely, severely undeserving of him. 

Dean had to know that too.)

"It's fine. You’ll make it up to them." Cas consoles, trying to avoid the strange hollowness in his gut at the mental image of him cosying up next to Amara, drunk, trying to make it up to her - okay, that’s never come up before. 

(Not in this magnitude, at least.)

"Yeah, I will." he laughs. "G'night, buddy." 

"Yep." Only a little miffed, Cas repeats it. "G'night." 

"Don't forget, okay?" 

Cas knew he'd be lucky if Dean didn't forget this entire conversation in the morning. But he didn't want to push the conversation any longer and make it weird - for him, or for Amara . "I'll try not to, but not making any promises." Dean makes a sound of affectionate disapproval, and then there's the familiar holler in the backdrop, of a group of ‘friends’ - rewelcoming his to their midst. 

And that's that, for the night. 

Cas stares at his coffee, now almost irritatingly room-temperature-d. Finishes it off in a gulp, while staring at his phone for good measure. Maybe the fairies of caffeinism and moderately-okay decisions would grace him with a visit, but it didn't seem very likely. Dean also doesn’t text for the majority of the night, except a view-once image of Amara's roommate licking a beer bottle (he’s made generally unfunny jokes about setting Cas up with the roommate in the past, probably playing off of that) and Cas replies righteously with eggplant emojis. He then sends a goodnight, at like six am, when Cas has already worn himself out with thoughts - and their annoying brethren, feelings - and passed out on his own couch. 

Many years later - many Amara's and Jimmy's, moving-apart’s and mildly-closer’s, more degrees and a few salaries later - it happens. 

(Of course, it does.)

Dean claims to have known all along. Sunday morning, breakfast-ing in bed with bread-and-jam and Castiel-Novak-specials, Dean solemnly swears he’d seen it coming. Not that he’d gone out of his way to jeopardize anything else for it, nope, but that he’s always known. “ Seriously .”  

Cas laughs. Turns out, Dean didn't forget everything after all. But he did forget the call - too many inebriated misadventures in one night to recall life-changing conversations, of course - and Cas doesn't think he’ll tell him yet, that he’d known it equally long himself. Not right now , when Dean's half in his arms, Cas is halfways to shirtless, and they’re half a minute away from carefully sliding the plates and novelty mugs away to commence a different, but equally compelling Sunday-morning ritual altogether. And not when he’s this thrilled to be acting like a prophesier, an unbearable, inevitable all-knower, and the apparently- destined love of his life. 

Maybe, maybe some other time. 

#destiel #deancas #drunk dean #confessions #it's actually been a very long time since i posted anything on here but i posted it on ao3 and thought #hell why not #leave thoughts behind! <3 #supernatural #college au destiel #pride month writing challenge #long distance #shey writes

[cisgenderedcentaur]

It is purrhaps time to acknowledge that a lot of myths about transmasc ""safety"" within broader cis society was just coming from transmasc erasure. We weren't safer, or had easier lives, we were just ignored when we suffered.

Now there's even a hint of transmasc awareness rising, it's not surprising there's backlash against us. If you've spent your live believing that transmascs have it "easier" than women, it's easy to be angry at us. much simpler than confronting your own prejudices!

#transandrophobia #this is once again about the tmra bullshit #i could write thousands of words about the false equivalence sheys trying to pull off #but i probably wont. #talk tag tbd

[sheyshen]

An idea I've been playing with a lot recently has been of Kieran's eyes turning silver come Tyrande going night warrior. And it's been such a fun idea to work with especially for someone like him who tends to carve his own path rather than fit in with the crowds.

And so a little fic came about! I hope you all enjoy! <3

---

Smoke poured from the burnt husk of Teldrassil, filling the sky and blocking out the stars. Though they were camped deep into Darkshore, the devastating sight was still clear to see. Kieran watched silently from where he rested, seated on the trunk of a fallen tree. Whether he was awaiting orders or an arrow through the throat, he wasn't sure at the moment, but the rest was welcome nonetheless. Seeing the tree in its current state caused guilt to gnaw at him, making him wonder if there had been more he could’ve done to stop it from happening in the first place. 

Tearing his eyes from the tree he scanned the camp, watching the night elves ready weapons and blessings as they waited for their high priestess to finish preparations for a ceremony to drive the horde back. Guarded glances and glares shot his way made it clear that his presence was merely tolerated, and where he watched them they too watched him in return. He rubbed the crescent necklace he wore with his thumb before tucking it into the alliance tabard that kept the gathering army from loosing their arrows in his direction.

Glowing green eyes amongst a sea of silver.

A familiar head of white hair strode purposefully through the camp, accompanied by a squad of worgen and a handful of adventurers following close behind. Shey had been one of the few voices that had kept his head on his shoulders after stepping through the portal to Stormwind with his injured wife in his arms and his willingness to share what details of the Horde's movements in Darkshore and Ashenvale earned him a place amongst those seeking to push back. A place that he had been forced upon him before he had had the chance to offer his bow.

Shandris's approach pulled his attention away from his thoughts and the alliance commander. She jerked her head in the direction of the dais that was set up near a moonwell. "It's time. Commander Wrynn has brought some reinforcements, and Minn'do will be starting the ritual shortly." She watched him as he stood, her expression unreadable. The rage and grief that must’ve been warring inside her were carefully masked to keep those under her command focused. He couldn’t help but admire that strength.

Stretching a moment he nodded and strode forward heading to join the gathering as Tyrande turned her attention to those before her. He took no insult as Shandris kept a step behind him as they made their way, watching his back.

Finding a place at the edge of those gathered, Shandris stood beside him as Tyrande spoke, concern flashing across her face as the ritual progressed. The moon that was once full and bright now hung ominously in the sky, darkened by the grief of Elune's children. Energy flowed from the moon and the moonwell, washing over the people gathered, a blessing or a curse, a vow of vengeance and a call for war. Like the moon Tyrande's eyes darkened to black and as the ritual continued Kieran noted similar in some touched by the spell. While not every eye changed, all those who stood before the high priestess seemed invigorated, hearts steeled and ready for battle, even himself.

As one a roar rose up, a call to battle, and as the ritual completed Tyrande took up her own weapons and led her people out into the woods. He and Shandris watched them go, their role was to scout and eliminate any threat that might try and break the lines and to support the main force rather than rush in. Shandris pulled out a map, as they called for their mounts, reviewing their plans without meeting his gaze. Kieran patted the nightsaber as she approached, Nara leaning into his touch before he mounted and readied his bow. The nightsaber usually acted as his wife's mount but with the circumstances, they had both felt it best if she went along and Theron, Kieran's wolf, stayed with his wife and daughter. Loki came up beside them, leaning affectionately against his leg as he double-checked his arrows, as if sensing that his thoughts began to return to worrying about his family.

Once supplies and weapons were set, Kieran called over to Shandris that he was ready. She brought her mount to him, nodding before meeting his eyes. The look that flashed across her face wasn't what he expected, surprise. It was short-lived as it was quickly replaced by what he swore was a smug smile. Before he could comment she urged her mount forward and rushed ahead. He followed after only a moment of hesitation.

That she was meant to lead had been already planned, a night elf's vision suited the dark more than his own, but she left him with little chance to keep pace with her. Oddly he found he had little trouble navigating the forest and caught up to her quickly enough. The steely mask had returned, the mantle of general heavy in her posture, but as he approached he caught a smirk before she turned back to the forest and the pair made their way along their route.

Destruction was everywhere, corpses of Horde and Alliance passed as they made their way, ignoring paths that were clearly blocked and focusing on areas that could hide the enemy. Passing a broken-down shredder, Kieran caught a look at his reflection in the windshield. Glowing eyes of silver blinked back at him where once there had been green. The sight caused him to pause, certain it was a trick of the light he ignored it and continued on.

They encountered pockets of resistance, a gathering of forsaken that were picking through a fallen encampment, adventurers seeking to make a quick coin. A handful of orcs who had been in the process of packing up surrendered immediately, the curious looks he received from them as they told what they knew of the forces that they faced, as well as the locations of nearby camps in exchange for their freedom struck him as strange. Perhaps they recognized him, the now former Horde commander fighting alongside the Night Elven general, perhaps they thought him a prisoner, forced to fight his allies. Either way, once they had spilled all they knew they took their things and retreated before Shandris reconsidered her show of mercy. He had expected her to have executed them on the spot, but their disinclination to continue to fight alongside the horde’s forces that remained and the chance to gain information that could turn the tide of battle proved stronger than her desire for revenge. At the moment at least.

The din of battle echoed nearby, shouts of alarm up ahead as the enemy engaged. The smell of fire and smoke filled the area as the winds shifted. Shandris bit back a curse as she signaled for them to follow a path toward the remnants of Auberdine. The longer they took on their scouting the longer the general was from her high priestess’s side, and the more the worry became obvious on her face. The pair banked, heading to the beach, and signaled a pair of passing hippogryph riders.

As she spoke to them Kieran dismounted and made his way through the ruins. Bow in hand and arrow knocked, he picked his way through, both sabers following behind him similarly on edge. He doubted there would be more than a scout or two in the area but he could never be too careful. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary he made his way to the water, relaxing for a moment to look at his reflection. The looks from Shandris and the orcs, the reflection in the broken-down shredder, the quality of his night vision, it was all starting to feel less like a trick of the light.

He stood at the water’s edge, squatting down, and looked at the reflection on the rippling surface. The darkened moon hung overhead, feeling larger and more foreboding as time passed, and directly in front of him a pair of silver eyes watched him. Touching his face and watching the reflection mirror the movement, closing his eyes he took a deep breath and opened them again, the silver glow remained. It had been no trick of the light.

“Kieran,” Shandris spoke quietly as she strode up to him. Her voice was stern but calm, smooth, attempting to avoid startling him as he looked like a fool staring at himself in the ocean. He stood quickly, turning his attention fully on her and noting the twitch of a smile that appeared for a moment as she continued. “We’re to return to the main force and make our report.” He nodded and made his way to Nara. As he settled himself in the saddle she added in. “The color suits you.” 

He turned to ask what she meant but she had already turned and made her way to her own mount before he could. Even still he knew what she was referring to, a blessing from the mourning Elune, silver eyes like the moon when it was full, like the eyes of his wife and her people. Now his people, and his new home.

#my writing #oc: kieran grimmarrow #warcraft #world of warcraft #shandris feathermoon #shey gets a mention because she is my alliance commander lol as is aulara since that's his wife but i'm not tagging either of them

[sheyshocked]

À la Claire Fontaine

Summary: Before a battle, Scout is trying to work off excess energy, which keeps annoying Spy to no end. When he has enough and throws a knife at him, Scout settles down for a while, only to start humming a familiar song. It brings back some memories Spy thought he would forget.

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Ship: Spy/Scout’s mother (familial Spy & Scout)

Warnings: Panic Attacks

Tags: Light Angst, Scout Doesn't Know Spy Is Scout's Parent (Team Fortress 2), Spy Tries to be a Parent (Team Fortress 2), Father-Son Relationship, Scout Has ADHD (Team Fortress 2), Soft Spy (Team Fortress 2), Flashbacks, Spy loves Scout's Mother, Smoking, POV Spy (Team Fortress 2), Spy Being an Asshole (Team Fortress 2)

Wordcount: 2,607

A/N: Inspired by this adorable picture by @wachtelspinat and by French lullaby À la claire fontaine (obviously).

You can also read it on ao3!

Ten minutes until the next match starts. Well, nine minutes and thirty-five seconds now, to be precise. Just enough for his last cigarette of the day, Spy concluded and pulled out a lighter. That… fire-loving abomination sitting on the other side of the locker room visibly perked up at the faint flickering light – he cut it off before it could move. It was on their side, but as far as he was concerned, better be safe than sorry.

The entire team RED was spending its final moments before the bloodbath the only way they knew. Heavy fussed over Sasha, his much-beloved weapon, Demoman had just opened his second – or was it third? – bottle of Scrumpy and was drunkenly offering it to anyone in the immediate vicinity, and Spy? All he wanted was to have a smoke in peace before the fighting started.

Just another ordinary day in the gutter.

Scout sat on the bench right opposite him and, as usual, had a really hard time trying to stay still. His excitement before matches always had this nervous edge, no matter how many times his guts got scattered across the sands of New Mexico. He couldn’t stop fidgeting, his leg bouncing up and down nearly constantly. At first, it was a mere nuisance. Easy to block out with other white noise. Another thirty seconds in, and it made him grit his teeth.

Much like the Scout himself, Spy assumed.

Bah, he’s worse than an eight-year-old child with a bad case of rabies. Can’t slow down to save his life, he rolled his eyes. So much so for having some peace before work. But then again, with this unruly bunch of misfits and criminals, what could have he expected?

Then, as if the noise of a foot slapping against the ground every few seconds wasn’t bad enough, it became accompanied by an even more nerve-wrenching sound.

Scout, completely oblivious to the fact that he was driving one of his coworkers mad with his antics, fished a package of chewing gum out of one of his pockets. Took two at once and started chomping. Loudly. And when Spy said loudly, he meant obnoxiously loudly. That kind of loud that made him regret that he couldn’t send the other mercenary straight back to respawn without having to explain himself to the Administrator later on.

If she were there at the moment, she would have understood, he noted with a huff of annoyance.

But even his patience had its limits. And frankly, he has had enough.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, letting Scout know that he was walking on thin ice. But the buck-teethed youth had absolutely no sense for subtlety, so it flew right over his head. He tilted his head to the side, blew a bubblegum bubble with another loud click of his tongue… and Spy just snapped.

The butterfly knife was in his hand in an instant and before anyone could have even noticed, he threw it. It pierced the wall right next to Scout’s head, popping the pink bubble out. The entire locker room went silent as all heads turned in their direction.

Scout blinked owlishly as he tried to figure out what had just happened. Then his face went ruddy with anger. “Woah, woah, what the heck, dude?! You could have killed me!”

“Oh, please, if I was really aiming for your head, I wouldn’t have missed,” he replied in a snarky tone as he got up to retrieve his knife. It was stuck at least an inch and a half in the wall. Hm. Good to know he wasn’t losing his touch. “Now, would you kindly shut up so I could have some rest?”

Scout huffed out an annoyed breath, but since he didn’t want to start a fight so shortly before having to enter the field, he sat straight and for the first time in his life did as he was told. Smart boy.

Ah, finally. A moment of respite, Spy closed his eyes with a smirk on his face.

He thought this would be the end of it, which only proved he didn’t know Scout nearly well enough. Because as soon as he relaxed, the humming started. And Spy just froze, the lit cigarette fell from his fingers and scattered ash all over the floor.

He… knew that tune. It might be butchered by Scout’s voice, sure, and like in all the other aspects of his life, the boy was rushing too much, but Spy would still recognize this song even with his ears cut off.

À la claire fontaine.

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. His heart was hammering against his ribs, which grew too constricted for their own good. It felt like he was dying. No, now that he thought about it, dying didn’t feel nearly as bad. At least not after the first dozen times. This, this was a pure nightmare.

Well, what should he do? Dieu, he needed another cigarette, maybe two, to wrestle his nerves under control again. But his fingers shook so bad, that someone might take notice. And he couldn’t let others see him like this.

Not now. Not ever.

“Scout? Where did you learn that song?” His voice shook slightly, and he regretted saying anything as soon as those words left his mouth. What was he even thinking, to blow his cover like this? Thank god Scout wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box, so to speak. Just like his earlier attempt to catch his attention, this too completely missed the point.

“Huh? What song? Ah, you mean that? I dunno, man. Think I heard it when I was little, but…” the boy bit his lips and his eyes grew unfocused as he tried to recall some very old and distant memory. To no avail, of course. So in the end, he just shrugged. “…dunno. What’s it to ya anyway?”

It wasn’t often that he had no excuse at the ready. But anything he thought of sounded incredibly fake even to his own ears. What was he supposed to say? Nothing, I’m just curious. Or: I was wondering who taught you to sing so badly? Scout might not be very bright, but he was no idiot either. He wouldn’t buy it. So there he was, for the first time in his whole career at the loss for words, unable to answer a simple question.

Thank goodness he was saved by a rough disembodied female voice: “Mission begins in ten seconds.”

Pfew, that was close. Scout, with his attention span of a goldfish, immediately forgot what they were talking about and grabbed his trusty baseball bat, shouting at the others: “All right, let’s go, let’s go!”

Everyone ran for the exit. Everyone except Spy, who stayed behind. Nothing suspicious about it, it usually took him a little longer to pick his disguise. Once he was sure he was alone, he pulled out his cigarette case and brushed its contents aside, revealing a small photo hidden inside.

The most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon was smiling at him from the picture. He fondly skimmed his knuckles over her face and raven hair. She was sitting in an armchair, holding a chubby boy no older than a year and a half to her chest. The little rascal was a bit blurry. They couldn’t get him to stay still long enough for them to take the picture. But even like this, it was visible that he had his mother’s nose and vibrant blue eyes.

There used to be a third figure in the photo. The only thing that reminded Spy of it was a part of a man’s arm draped loosely over the woman’s shoulders. The rest he cut out a long time ago. Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder how different their lives would be if the man in the picture stayed.

But no. He couldn’t afford to think about it like that. With him gone, the family was safe. It was the right thing to do.

One day he might believe it.

He was interrupted by the noise of something being blown up into pieces nearby. It was followed by gunshots and someone – from the sound of it, their Demoman – screaming. Well, time to go.

With one last pained look, he put the photo back where it belonged. With one press of a button, smoke shrouded him, and with a blink of an eye, there stood a completely different man. He tugged at the lapels of his disguise, making sure that everything was in order, and ran for the exit.

What use was crying over spilled milk?

South Boston, 1946

He was helping Travis, her second youngest, with his French homework when Ellen peeked into the room, seemingly more tired than ever. Taking care of eight rowdy sons does that to a person, he noted with sympathy – he couldn’t help but admire her for raising them all on her own before he came along. But for some reason, Jeremy was even more handful than the other seven could ever strive to be.

Well, he was his father’s son through and through.

“Alain, dear? Could you please go and tuck Jeremy in? He won’t go to sleep before you sing him a lullaby.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he got up, making sure Travis’ homework was signed and ready to be put in his backpack. Hopefully, he won’t lose in yet another fight with the neighbor’s ruffians. “Of course, I’ll be right there. Go get some rest, chérie. You deserve it.”

Before he went, he kissed her on the cheek. Travis didn’t forget to comment on it with a loud: “Bleh.” He always liked to play a tough guy (as tough as one can be while wearing short trousers), but deep down, he was glad his mom found someone to love her after their father passed away.

With that, he made his way to the small nursery. He heard Jeremy long before he even entered the room. The boy was wailing loud enough to wake his brothers in the next room – maybe even their neighbors upstairs – as he slammed any toy he got his little hands on against the headboard of his bed. Alain sighed. One day, the boy’s gonna grow up to be a real menace.

Like father, like son, he supposed.

The moment Jeremy saw him by the door, the crying stopped. Instead, he started bouncing up and down on the mattress, supporting himself against the lattice of his cot as he squealed: “Dada!”

“Yes, yes, daddy’s here,” Alain cooed as he scooped him in his arms and sat in a nearby rocking chair.

To think how terrified he used to be to hold him when they finally brought him home. The boy was just so tiny! He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’s gonna crush him if he was not careful enough. Ellen used to laugh and tell him that the baby was not made of sugar. Easy for her to say. When he came along, she already had seven children of her own, seven lively boys, and a picture of a dead husband she used to love very much hanging above the kitchen sink.

He always thought he would make an awful parent. But when Jeremy was born, the love for him and his mother made him want to try and be better.

“You should go easier on your maman. She hasn’t had a good night's sleep since the day you were born, mon lapin. Neither of us had,” he said, but there was a gentle smile on his lips. He knew that Jeremy was still too young to fully understand a word he said, so he followed it with a kiss being pressed on top of his head, making him giggle and babble.

“Let’s see. How about I sing you the À la claire fontaine? It was always your favorite.” Jeremy excitedly waved his little hands, which made Alain smile in return. “All right. Here it goes…”

He cleared his throat before he started singing in a soft voice. When he got to the chorus: “Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublierai.” he felt his voice waver.

Jeremy barely made it to the third stanza before he fell asleep with his head lolled on his shoulder and drooling onto his shirt. When he became a father, he was told that he would get used to having his expensive clothes ruined by various bodily fluids. Shame that one never came true, but at least he fretted less about it.

There you go, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it, he chuckled, keeping his voice down as he put the boy back in his cot. Only then did he notice that Ellen was leaning against the doorframe, watching them with a huge grin on her face. He gently put a finger in front of his lips, shushing her:

“Shh. He just fell asleep.”

She nodded and quietly settled by his side, watching their son sleep. “Look at him,” she whispered. “Sleepin’ like an angel. Without you, he wouldn’t have fallen asleep until sunrise. Always has an infinite supply of energy, this one.”

She sighed, her expression suddenly turning wistful. “Wish you could be here every night to put him to sleep. He misses you when you are gone. So do the boys. And I.”

“I know. Wish there was another way. But I have to work so that you have everything you need, ma chérie.”

She clung to him like she never wanted to let go, which only made the situation that much harder. It wasn’t like he wanted to leave her or Jeremy. He just had to. Especially now, since he had so many hungry mouths to feed. “All we need is you, Alain. Only you. Everything else is unimportant.”

“I swear I’ll try to be around more.”

“You say that every time.”

“And I mean it.” With one hand caressing her cheek, he turned her to face him, before their lips met in a kiss as soft as a promise. “Je t'aime tellement, ma petit chou-fleur.”

She had tears in her eyes when she replied: “I love you too, Alain. Please don’t become a memory.”

For a time, he did his best to keep that promise. But in the end, all it took was one job gone wrong. One stupid mistake, and it all came crumbling down.

One day, he found a letter in their mailbox containing photos of his entire family. Travis on his way to school with French homework tucked in his bag, his older brothers during a baseball play. Even little Jeremy in a stroller with Ellen on a walk. A warning. Someone was out for blood.

Alain hunted down that bastard, of course, and made him pay for even thinking about hurting his loved ones. But how could he come home knowing that he was a risk to his family? So he did the only reasonable thing he could to protect them. He cut himself out of the picture. Well, not entirely, no. He kept sending Ellen money and gifts for Jeremy and the boys, sometimes even visiting under the guise of night and cloaking device, to hold Ellen in his arms for just a little while longer and to watch his petit lapin grow, feeling immense sorrow while doing so (maybe he was an awful parent after all). When Jeremy was plagued with night terrors, he still sometimes sang him À la claire fontaine.

Little did he know those were the only nights when Jeremy slept soundly.

***

Translations

Dieu – god Chérie – sweetheart Maman – mom (affectionate) Mon lapin – my rabbit Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublierai. – It's so long I've been loving you, that I'll never forget you. Je t'aime tellement, ma petit chou-fleur. – I love you so much, my little cauliflower.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #dadspy #spy/scout's mom #shey scribbles #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #tf2 scout's mom #angst #tw panic attack #mostly mine while writing this #but also spy's #spydad

[queerfictionwriter]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Okay, first of all, you are a joy. Secondly: this would be so much easier if I was less fucking prolific, LMAO. So yes, I'm late to this party, but in my defense, I had to winnow down nearly 200 fics from a decade of fanfic writing to get here.

And, uuuuuuh. Yeah, sorry, I "cheated"--you're gonna get my five(ish) favourite Steter, and five favourite non-Steter fics bc LAWD this was hard to pick!

Steter:

The Devil You Know - this was the first fic where I think I deliberately skewed dark--but the point of this fic, for all that it's kind of dark and extremely messy, is that "you do not have to reach some arbitrary standard of 'good enough' in order to be good to or for someone".

Better Than Okay - the fic where "ace" does not mean "sex-repulsed", and "ace Dom" isn't an oxymoron. I love this one bc it focussed on communication and mutual meeting of needs, and because it points out that a label alone cannot tell you everything about how a person thinks, feels, and relationships.

thick series - this 'verse is always fun to think about, re-read, or revisit and write more of, bc Chaotic Dumbass Stiles & genderqueer Butch Daddy Peter are hilarious and a delight

Starving Faithful - this is an ABO fic that smashes religious trauma and sexuality together in ways that I find really meaningful, and also hot. I have a lot of feelings about this one and am really proud of how it turned out.

Unorthodox - soft, loving kink in a long-term relationship that doesn't look like what everyone thinks kink is

In Good Faith - this was a collab with the wildly talented @asarcasticwitch, and every moment working on this joint gift with her filled me with glee. Every time I open that fic I need a few minutes to stare at the art.

Non-Steter:

Ruined - this is literally just sexy Stetopher shenanigans ft. girl Stiles and trans Peter, and I still love everything about this one years later

(Un)Gilding the Lily - my contribution to the collection about the "feminine" product so horrifying, there was no other option except ruthless mockery. Everything about the creation of this one was the best kind of ride.

Come Out in the Wash - the first Stalion I ever wrote, and my favourite of them to re-read for how human this one feels, especially when it comes to sex partners who are disabled

not broken, she's just a baby - AKA "the Kinky Stargent". I love this one so much, and the velvety-soft D/s in this one might be the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written

What I've Been Looking For - AKA The Yoga AU. Stetopher. It took me over 4yrs to finish this, and it might be the fic I'm proudest of.

#K speaks #fanfic #my fic #my fanfic #my writing #fandom #fandom life #long live fandom #writing #writing community #pocket friends #hey it's Shey #Steter #Stiles Stilinski #girl Stiles #precious baby #full of sarcasm and murder #Peter Hale #precious murder cupcake #all hail the trash daddy #Stetopher #Chris Argent #can you say 'daddy'? #hello competence kink #Steterica #Erica Reyes #Stalion #Deucalion #shameless self-promotion

[sarastuss]

have you considered ... that i adore you all? 💛

#❛ ☼ ― ooc. / i do not have a fancy tag for this. #because I DO!! #now i am writing & answering ims #i am also attempting to edit a thing bc chloe kindly tagged me <3 the angel sheis

[difeisheng]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 说英雄谁是英雄 | Heroes (TV 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bai Choufei & Wang Xiaoshi, Bai Choufei/Wang Xiaoshi, interpret it however you want honestly. i like my ambiguity Characters: Bai Choufei, Wang Xiaoshi Additional Tags: Literal Sleeping Together, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed, mention of past torture, Nightmares, it's brief i swear it's not bad okay. this is meant to be a happy fic, i mean wrt heroes the bar for being happier than canon is on the ground but. you get it, Heroes (2022) Episode s1e8 Summary:

Bai Choufei trips out of a light doze when the moon is high to find Wang Xiaoshi reaching across the little room he'd tried to leave between them, hand resting on Bai Choufei somewhere by his neck and inner collars. For Heavens' sake. He kicks out at Wang Xiaoshi, launching him back across the beds, not caring if he's glaring or not.

Or, how Bai Choufei eventually got used to Wang Xiaoshi being clingy in his sleep.

#ummmmm hi guys i did something #heroes #说英雄谁是英雄 #syxssyx #shuo ying xiong shei shi ying xiong #bai choufei #wang xiaoshi #fic #ashton's writing #ashton writes fic #ashton on ao3

[dragonanne]

Title: “The New Guy…Again” (A TCW/GLTAS crossover fanfiction)

Word count: 2,387

Characters: Blight (clone OC), Lara Shey (twi’lek OC), Marseille Tiste (Blue Lantern OC), Kilowog, Plo Koon

Description: A chapter from a Star Wars: The Clone Wars/Green Lantern: The Animated Series crossover story I started working on a couple of years ago. I still kinda plan to write the other chapters, but I wanted to go ahead and post this one since I’m still really proud of it.

Blight sat in the mess, alone in the noisy galley full of clone troopers, glumly ignoring his ration portion while stirring a now-cold mug of caf. None of his brothers would sit with him. It was like being a shiny again, but worse. At least when he was a rookie, the lone survivor of his batchmates, his new battalion had welcomed him cheerfully. But now he felt like a complete outcast.

A green light flashed from the ring on his right hand, accompanied by a short, persistent beeping.

“You had best answer that,” said a deep, patient voice.

Blight looked up into the face of Plo Koon, his jedi general. Blight started to stand, but the general motioned for him to stay seated, then sat down himself.

“Something troubles you, soldier.”

It wasn’t a question. But Blight didn’t know if it was appropriate to unload his troubles on a superior officer, much less a jedi general. However, Master Plo was persistent.

“If you do not intend to answer the summons from your ring, you might as well answer my question.

The young clone trooper sighed, crumbling under the pressure.

“My ring. That’s the problem, general. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what I’m allowed to do.” He spoke the last sentence with caution, testing the proverbial waters.

Master Plo took a moment to ponder the reply before responding. “What do you believe are your options?”

Blight considered who he was talking with and how careful he might need to be with his words. With any other jedi, he would almost definitely lie—regardless of whether they would sense his deception or not—but with Plo Koon? Honesty would be respected, even rewarded.

“Well, I could stay here, fulfill my duty and my oath to the Republic—and give up the ring. Or I could betray the Republic, abandon my brothers, and go with the lanterns to train as a Green Lantern.” He tried to subtly look up to gauge the jedi’s reaction. He thought the general was frowning thoughtfully, considering the options, but the mask the kel dor perpetually wore made it difficult to tell for sure.

“It is a remarkable opportunity. Which do you believe is the correct course?”

Blight shifted uncomfortably. However friendly and fatherly the jedi was, it didn’t seem smart to discuss possible treason with a general. The silence began to stretch into the realm of discomfort as he attempted to formulate an appropriate response.

At the moment when he feared he would finally have to speak, despite lacking a tactful answer, the ring resumed its flashing and generated a shimmering miniature apparition of Marseilles Tiste, the Blue Lantern. She looked not impatient, but certainly...expectant.

“Blight, I’m about to take Lara to, um,” she turned to look at someone outside of the range of the holographic projection. “What was the name of the planet?” A muffled voice answered, and she turned back to Blight. “Right, Corhva. I’m going to teach her some basic power ring tricks. Gauge said he would mention it to you. Would you like to come with us?” Her voice was gentle and hopeful.

Blight wasn’t excited to go on a lantern field trip, but he was borderline desperate to escape this increasingly uncomfortable discussion with Master Plo.

“Uh, sure, I mean, I’ll be right there, ma’am.”

Marseilles visibly winced. “I’m not your commanding officer, Blight, just a friend,” she said, reprimanding him gently.

“Right, um, sorry,” he apologized. I’ll be right there.” The hologram disappeared, and Blight rose, saluting Plo Koon. “I apologize, general. Excuse me.” The jedi nodded graciously and when he spoke, Blight wondered if there wasn’t a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Of course, trooper.”

Blight picked up his food tray and deposited it in the appropriate portal before leaving the mess, drawing more than a few sideways glances as he left. The walk down to the hanger where the other lanterns waited for him was awkward and long, as most walks seemed to be lately. Clones were the foremost experts in the galaxy at picking up on the smallest details of an individual—it was how they were able to tell one another apart. So even the small ring on his finger didn’t go unnoticed in the hallways, and everyone on board already knew the dilemma of the clone trooper chosen by the strange, mysterious green power ring. Everyone was waiting to see what he would do next—reject the power and opportunity in favor of loyalty to his brothers and his oath to the Republic or turn traitor and desert.

In truth, the situation had sparked intense debate among his fellow troopers—behind closed doors and over private helmet comm channels, of course. His own squad-mates had argued over him last night. Would he even be breaking an oath by leaving—a true oath? Was he bound by a promise that was never truly his choice to make? At the completion of training, the clones were never given an option to not swear loyalty to the Republic that had paid for their creation, so did the oath actually count? Were they soldiers or slaves? These kinds of questions made his head ache...and his stomach churn. Pleasant or not, it was much simpler to live his life without asking these questions.

His squad-mates seemed split on the issue. And it was tearing them apart. Gauge—a brother he’d not been particularly close to prior to the ring’s appearance—was passionately of the opinion that Blight should take the chance in front of him and forge his own path alongside the lanterns. Blight even suspected that a painful envy ached within Gauge over the opportunity. He knew it hurt his brother that he was so reluctant to seize the chance, but Blight couldn’t help it.

On the other hand, Marker, always stern and borderline obsessive with reg manual compliance, had been clear that if Blight left, he would be a traitor—to the Republic and to his brothers. And he wasn’t the only one. Whichever way he chose, Blight would be hurting someone.

He just wanted to scream! Why was this his decision to make?! He thought back to General Plo. He really, truly did want to ask the general for advice. The kindly jedi had never been anything but good to his troops. So many of them considered him to be the father they had never had. He cared about them—they all knew it. But would he be able to offer the kind of advice that Blight needed? He didn’t need the advice of his general. He certainly didn’t need the advice of a jedi. He needed the advice of a father.

Odd, he thought, that I’m thinking in those terms.

He hadn’t seen many fathers in his lifetime, but he knew some clone troopers considered the men who trained them back on Kamino to be like fathers to them. They would go to their training sergeants for advice like this, so fathers probably did similar things.

But he didn’t have one of those.

His mind was still in turmoil when he entered the hanger where he was to meet Lantern Tiste and Lara. He spotted them immediately, an athletically built human woman and a sturdy, undeniably beautiful young twi'lek woman. They were both dressed in flight suits of blue and black, form-fitted material and were standing next to the intimidating creature that was Green Lantern Kilowog. Blight’s stomach, which had already been doing uneasy flips on the walk from the mess hall, went ahead and dropped to his toes at the sight of Kilowog’s stern expression. As Blight approached, Kilowog eyed him up and down.

“Better suit up, Poozer. That rig ain’t very streamline.”

“Huh?” Blight looked down at his white plastoid armor. It was decorated with the grey markings common among the 104th Battalion, but otherwise was entirely ordinary.

“Your lantern suit,” Marseilles spoke up. “I know you haven’t decided yet, Blight, but while you train with us…” She trailed off, her voice still kind and patient.

“Oh,” Blight caught on. “Right, um...how do I do that again?” He glanced around, seeing how many of his brothers were within earshot or watching. How many would see this as him showing his “true”, traitorous colors?

Kilowog made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a scoffing noise. Marseilles shot him a scathing glance then stepped closer to Blight.

“Take your ring, form it in your mind, and will it.”

He looked at his ring, half skepticism, half hope. “Right...will it.”

For the first time, Lara Shey stepped forward.

“Here, like this,” she said shyly, and her flight suit shimmered and vanished, being replaced by a modest homespun robe. She held her fist up and her blue ring flashed. The robe was replaced once more by the flight suit. Suddenly self-conscious, she ducked her head and stepped back. “It’s easy if you let the ring do what it knows to do,” she finished softly.

“Uh, thanks.” Blight felt his face warm. He didn’t know why, but her discomfort made him feel embarrassed too. He shook off the feeling and held his ring up, staring at it intently, his brow furrowed. Focusing on the deep green of the ring, he tried to feel for it, sense its presence on his hand. He imagined what it was like to be a jedi and reach out with the Force.

But nothing happened.

Then, just as he was about to give up, he took note of a gentle hum radiating throughout his mind and his body. As he focused, it grew stronger. It felt...right. A steady, stubborn assurance. Without thinking further, he released himself to it and a green light shimmered over his armor. He looked down. The white plastoid was gone, replaced by a green and black flight suit—a variation on the theme shared between Kilowog, Lara, and Marseilles’ suits. He recognized the suit from when the ring had first flown onto his finger, but he hadn’t had much time to examine it then.

“Woah.” He didn’t know how else to respond. Marseille was grinning, and Lara was smiling shyly. “Uh, is it always like that?”

“Eh, pretty much,” Kilowog responded gruffly.

Marseille punched him playfully. “Don’t be a kill-joy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, unless you got anything you want me t’do? I’m gonna go find K’ihr and leave you to teach the rookies how to fly.”

“Right, a quick word before you go.” Marseille walked away with the large sergeant, speaking softly.

Lara moved closer to Blight as they watched the senior lanterns. “I’ve been looking forward to learning to fly. Marse has shown me a few things, but there weren’t a lot of opportunities at first, and then she wanted to wait for you.”

“How long have you, um, been…?”

“A lantern?” Lara finished for him. “The former bearer of my ring was killed in the same battle as yours.”

“Oh.” Blight thought back two rotations to the moment the ring had appeared before him. “I assumed it had been longer. You seem so, I dunno, comfortable with it all.” Lara smiled softly and wrapped her arms around herself.

“It was an answer to all my prayers. The ring—the opportunity it gave me? It was a dream come true. A chance for a new life.”

Blight frowned. He didn’t appreciate the not-so-subtle attempt to persuade him to the oh-so-wonderful lantern side.

“Why? What was so bad about your old one?” He asked.

Lara looked up at him. The look on her face was almost...horrified, and Blight immediately knew he’d said the wrong thing. He began to backpedal.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

Lara hugged herself tighter and looked down again, her expression changing to sad uncertainty.

“No...I was a slave. Sold to a crime clan when I was a little girl.” She looked Blight in the eye. “My life has been filled with unspeakable horrors for as long as I can remember. Being chosen by this ring is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Blight’s stomach sank. He was instantly filled with a shame like he’d never experienced before in his life. He didn’t know how to apologize profusely enough to make up for his blunder. So instead he said, rather lamely, “I’m sorry.”

Lara didn’t respond. He didn’t blame her.

They stood there in awkward silence until Marseille returned.

“Well, kids? Ready for a field trip?” She was grinning.

“Yes!” Lara replied enthusiastically!

Blight didn’t bother replying.

“Excellent! Follow me.”

Marseille motioned for them to follow her towards the open hanger. At the force shield which separated them from the cold darkness of space, she stopped.

“Lesson one: personal force fields.”

A glowing halo of blue light appeared around her and before Blight realized what she meant to do, she stepped backwards through the hanger shield. He began to cry out, horrified, but realized she was standing there on the deck, unharmed and grinning. His jaw just hung open, frozen in the stifled cry and unsure how to proceed.

“The power rings generate an energy field around your body, equipped with its own life support. Power up and c’mon out,” Marseille encouraged.

Lara held her ring hand tenderly and closed her eyes. The blue energy field blossomed into life. She opened her eyes and examined her hands and arms, pleased. Without hesitation, she stepped out to join their teacher. Then they both looked back at Blight. He swallowed. All his life he’d been taught that the easiest way to die was to step through one of those very shields without the proper gear. He looked down at his ring, unsure.

“Will it,” Lara said gently.

Right, Blight thought.

He took Lara’s cue and closed his eyes. He sought out the gentle humming sensation again, grasped onto it, and concentrated. He focused on his own willpower and commanded the energy to appear. A shift in the air quality prompted him to open his eyes. A slight glimmer of green haze danced on the edges of his vision. He lifted his hands. Green energy flickered across them too. He’d done it. He looked up.

“I must be insane,” he said, a slight touch of nervous laughter wobbling his words.

And then he stepped outside, surrendering to the mercy of his ring.

To be continued…

I hope y’all like my silly little fanfic. I actually have the whole story roughly plotted (including the stuff before this) and I’ve even done some concept art for a few characters, planets, ships, etc. Hopefully I’ll share more sometime. I don’t think I’ve shared much of my writing on here before, but I thought it was about time.

#gltas #tcw/gltas crossover #clone trooper blight #Lara shey #the dragon writes #my fanfic #yeah. still super proud of this #writing this was one of the things that got me interested in finishing jade torch—it made me remember how much i loved writing #marseille tiste #my OCs #tcw #sw fanfic

[covainofficial]

Are you listening to your inner voice to act on your life purpose or are you letting others who don't have the same life purpose, influence you to the point you pause your journey? #cocochanel #shewants #sheis #advocate #challenge #standup #women #womensrights #superhero #experience #creativeimagination #neverquit #quotes #quotestoliveby #poetry #words #writing #mindset #covain #covainofficial #model #modeling #fashion #healthylifestyle #blessing #entertainment #artist #grateful #entertainment #artist (at Rancho Palos Verdes, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cgcyb5IvPUV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#cocochanel #shewants #sheis #advocate #challenge #standup #women #womensrights #superhero #experience #creativeimagination #neverquit #quotes #quotestoliveby #poetry #words #writing #mindset #covain #covainofficial #model #modeling #fashion #healthylifestyle #blessing #entertainment #artist #grateful

[haveyouseenthishorrormovie]

Not a poll request (so don't worry if you don't want to answer on the blog) but - could we get each of the mods' top 10 horror movies? (: I'd be so interested in hearing them!

Long post!

Mod Z:

*long sigh* *opens letterboxd*

2. Beau is Afraid (2023)

K-12 (2019)

NOTE: Yk what imma just leave this here

NOTE: a masterpiece i probably won’t rewatch for a long time but since i’m an ari aster truther it deserved this spot

3. Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)

NOTE: Yes

4. The Crow (1994)

NOTE: Awesome ass movie. Awesome ass soundtrack. An absolute classic. I have the graphic novel it was based on and it’s one of the best things I have in my library

5. Carrie (1976)

NOTE: Stephen King’s the best at writing real characters <3

6. The Craft (1996)

NOTE: As a wicca myself, accurately depicted teen witches are my jam and this film did the best job at it

7. Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022)

NOTE: The only reason this isn’t in the top 5 is because i haven’t seen it in a while. If u had asked me in early 2023 i would’ve put this in second place for sure

8. Cam (2017)

NOTE: So underrated. Go watch this on Netflix now while u don’t know anything about it

9. Frankenweenie/Nightmare before Christmas/Edward Scissorhands

NOTE: CHILDHOOD (lumping them together cuz i couldn’t decide which tim burton film to add)

10. Smile (2022)

NOTE: okay wait this scared me shitless at the theatre and i just convinced myself this movie was bad to stop myself freaking out but this is a genuinely good and scary movie i’ve made up my mind

These are subject to change and Invisible Man (2020) definitely deserves an honorable mention but I haven’t seen it in a while to check if it still holds up

----

Mod L:

The Thing (1982)

Absolute masterpiece. Perfect marriage of cast, visuals, music, and script. They (audiences in 1982) hated Jesus (John Carpenter) because he told them the truth.

2. Ravenous (1999)

I love social horror more than life itself, and this is a pitch-perfect example. I recommend Atun-Shei Films' Overanalyzing Ravenous, if you haven't seen it yet.

3. Ju-on: The Grudge (2002)

See above re: social horror. I never stop thinking about how this series was inspired by rising incidents of domestic violence in Japan - how the contagion of violence in the home spreads to anyone who comes in contact with it.

4. Demon (2015)

This would pair amazingly well with my next pick, which is:

5. La Llorona (2019)

To quote a friend of mine after we watched Demon, "there is no society without memory."

6. Black Christmas (1976)

Truly ahead of its time as a slasher, as well as in its politics. Ladies, never date a Peter, and DON'T trust the Toronto Police.

7. The Devils (1971)

Nobody was doing it like Ken Russell, and nobody ever will again.

8. The Changeling (1980)

This movie understands the greatest horror of all: Joseph Kennedy Sr.

9. Us (2019)

My favourite Peele to date, no I will not be budged on this point.

10. Peeping Tom (1960)

An extremely prescient film about the male gaze and the medium of film.

(Mod Sus releases their own once they get the braincells rubbing for more than 5 movies)

#not a poll #ask #ask the mods

[thotsforvillainrights]

so happy to see asks are open!! May I please request dating headcannons with Overhaul and a quirkless reader being by his side at the shei hassaikai base. What do the other members think of her? Obviously they can’t talk or even be near her unless they wanna be meat on the floor. Poor girl just wants to make friends but her hubby makes it so hard 😔😔😔

(I would've thought I did a quirkless reader for him before but I'm admittedly too lazy to check my HIGHLY OUTDATED masterlist so fuck it. Let's do it anyway! Also, I hope it's fine I'm leaving the reader kinda open ended as usual so everyone can kinda insert themselves into this better. Thank you for the request and the chance at writing more Kai content!)

(sidenote: I really need to update that masterlist but every time I try it's nearly impossible. I let it get too far behind, send help ahhhhhhh)

~Kai's Quirkless Reader & the Hassaikai~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Quirkless? Not that much of a shocker he'd fall for you. The boss being in a relationship? THAT is the shocker everyone hasn't managed to let go of just yet. In fact, most of his inner circle thinks he's holding you hostage while the other half wonders how you could've ever fallen for someone as rough as Overhaul in the first place. Did he even know how to date someone? Overhaul doing gentleman shit? Overhaul possibly kissing you one day or holding hands? Overhaul being in the same vicinity as someone else for longer than a few hours? There was a slew of gossiping he couldn't really shut down (or intimidate out of the men) for a very long time. He was trying to at least get it out of control before bringing you around to meet everyone for the first time.

-He took the time you introduce you considering he would have some of the members of the Hassaikai be your personal bodyguards or escorts when he couldn't join you out. Aside from this, he didn't really want you interacting with anyone else than himself. You were headstrong (or stubborn as he'd put it) and wanted on your own to develop meaningful relationships with his main group. Where he saw workers, you saw his friends despite him never calling them that. You wanted to be as important to them as he was. None of the men really complained since you were a breath of fresh air compared to Kai. With the help of Pops preventing Kai from killing the guys, you were able to try and get to know each of them.

-Hojo thought of you as a little sibling almost, no matter what your age is. You could literally be older than him and he'd still try to treat you like a little sister/brother/sibling. It was odd, but you didn't seem to mind how careful he was or protective nonetheless. Setsuno was a lot more careful with you since he didn't want to end up like mince meat. Had you not pushed hard for him to come out of his shell, you never would've learned all the wonderful parts of his personality aside from being a legitimate gang member. Tabe was more or less clingy to your kindness. This is especially true if you end up trying to greet him with something to eat. He adores you now.

-Rappa was actually pretty taken with you from the moment he met you. Someone brave enough to go against Overjerk's rules and do what they wanted regardless of the outcome? Oh yeah, he thinks that's fucking awesome of you. Tengai is more careful about guarding your feelings and still doesn't greet you by your first name even to this day. He also spends a lot of time scolding Rappa when he's around you since he's worried the big lug will offend you somehow.

-Nemoto has been and always will be the absolute most respectful with you. He greets you with the utmost proper manners and tries to make sure you have everything you might ever need whenever he's on duty for you. You've been trying for a long time to break down his walls and get him to chill out more but I doubt that'll happen anytime soon. Deidoro fucking loves you and loves even more the fact that he can be as crazy around you as he wants to be...well, as long as Nemoto isn't there to stop him from having that fun. You don't mind it. The man is a hoot!

-Chrono has become somewhat of a close friend to you. He knows when to let his guard down and relax ever now and then. Don't get me wrong, he still respects Overhaul very much as both a friend and a leader! It's just that when he's out with you, he's not gonna say no to putting a dollar in a prize machine and trying to win an IPAD with you. If you could chose anyone to hang out with for a day, it usually ends up being Chrono. It makes sense that Kai has gotten jealous a time or two of you relationship together. Mimic on the other hand...he doesn't worry as much with you two being together. In fact, your first impression of Mimic was that someone must've been pulling a prank on you. There's no way this beanie baby can turn into a full grown man on command. Mimic thought you weren't real when he met you too either. "How much did the boss pay for you to pretend to be his partner?"

-Katsukame was...a lot upon first meeting. He let a few inappropriate comments slip and you nervously laughed it off until Kai came out and killed the guy in front of you. Since then, Katsukame learned his place around you. Oh and Pops? That old man adored you since the very first moment. How could he not? You're giving his misguided boy a chance to experience real love for the first time! To him, you were considered family from the very first day you took Kai's heart.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #overhaul #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai #yakuza #eight bullets #eight precepts of death #eightfold cleansers #headcanons

[stetersecretsanta2023]

That's a wrap!

The final Steter Secret Santa gifts have been posted! Thank you so much to all of the amazing Santa's that make this event possible every year! I can't wait to do it again next year!

Shey

@arsenicalikat @midmorning-bomb i-might-be-in-over-my-head @lucky-bishop @meggie-stardust theydraggedmein @mirrorthoughts @goddess47 @thefancydragonqueen like-lazarus @deliciousblizzardshark @Cathcer1984 @word-magpie @hazelestelle @fizzysodapop @teenwerewoofs @merrythoughts @Theboboshow @ambersagen @sinnabon-cosplay @anaxandria-writes @bunnywest @geekmom13 @softranswolves @always-mimits @tarantula-teeth @mizzricki @ficweaver @gryvon @cywscross @darkjediqueen @rebakitt3n

#steter #steter secret santa #fandom exchange #steter secret santa 2023 #stetersecretsanta #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #peter hale

[sheyshocked]

I did it! I've won Camp NaNoWriMo! I'm super tired right now, but so happy. The first step completed 😁

#shey shenanigans #personal #writing #i can't believe it #it's done #well the first draft anyway #still a lot of work to do #but i'm so happy #<3

[queerfictionwriter]

Signal boosting this in case anyone missed it! A fun Stetopher Hanahaki fic for the wonderful @shey-elizabeth!

#K speaks #my fic #my fanfic #my writing #fanfic #fandom #fandom life #long live fandom #pocket friends #hey it's Shey #Stiles Stilinski #Peter Hale #Chris Argent #Stetopher

[thebanneredmareinn]

i've been thinking of writing from a courier's pov on skyrim. i have a character semi-fleshed out but i'm having trouble deciding his name. he's a bosmer, but was raised by nords in riften. should he have a nord name, like brand-shei has an argonian name? thoughts and suggestions are welcome :)

#my ocs #skyrim courier #skyrim

[fatkish]

Hi! I'm a big fan of the work you do, and I was hoping that I could make a request! Headcanons for Midnight, Mt Lady, Ryukyu, and the Wild Wild Pussycats (Sorry if this is a lot! Please feel free to take as much time as you need if you choose to do this! Also I think that the Wild Wild Pussycats deserve more love from the MHA community) with their adopted son or daughter who suffered from abuse by their previous family and now has a hard time dealing with their trauma.

I'd really appreciate it! Hope you're having an awesome day!

(Sorry for not including Mt. Lady, Pixie Bob, Tiger or Ragdoll. I tried to look up their character profiles but I just couldn’t come up with anything for them or I just couldn’t picture them actually looking after and taking care of a child, sorry)

Midnight, Ryukyu and Mandalay x Adopted, Abused Child Reader

The story here is that your parents were drug addicts or criminals that basically ignored you. You were 8 when you were saved. Each of these guys have different scenarios on how they found you as well as how your life is with them. (Sorry if it’s a little redundant)

Midnight:

Your parents were drug addicts that cooked meth and barely ever paid you any attention

You had gotten used to constant hunger and had learned to live off of dumpster diving

You’d go to the dumpsters behind stores and collect whatever goods/food you could find

Places you often went to were beauty stores since you learned that there was money to be made by selling the products that the stores dump

You were quirkless which is why you were constantly on your own. You’re parents had no idea where you were half of the time and didn’t care

One day when Nemuri had the day off she saw the dirty and malnourished child walk into the alley behind the makeup store

She followed you and saw you climb into the dumpster and start filling up a small backpack with items from the dumpster such as lotions, lipsticks, foundations, perfumes, etc.

When you had finished, you climbed out only to see Nemuri staring down at you

When she asked what you were doing, you immediately tried to run away but she quickly used her quirk to put you to sleep

After finding out about your situation when she brought you to the hospital, your parents were arrested and charged with child neglect and endangerment

Nemuri noticed that you would rarely ask for things and had a hard time advocating for yourself

If she didn’t bring something up first, then you’d likely ignore it or wouldn’t say anything

You felt immense guilt in simply asking for a snack or a hug or things like that

So she started having you use a journal to help you understand and validate your feelings. She’d leave a notepad with a box for you to write down your thoughts and feelings so that you guys can read them together when she has the time

Ryukyu:

You had been another child who was used by the Shei Hassaikai. Your quirk allowed for your blood to cure all types of illnesses

Your parents sold you to Chisaki due to them being in debt and needing the money

Chisaki was using you to create vaccines

When the Raid took place, you managed to escape but were terrified of men

Since Ryukyu was one of the few females involved, she decided to adopt you

You originally hated touch but learned to love it after awhile

Your favorite thing is cuddling with Ryukyu

Ryukyu brings you to her agency and has you do your homeschooling there. If you want to go to public school then that’s fine, but while you’re healing, you get to stay with her

She tells people to let you come to them instead of walking up to you

Nejire is like a big sister to you

Wild Wild Pussycats, Mandalay:

In this case, your parents weren’t as bad, but they weren’t the best. They struggled to understand you and how your mind worked which ultimately led them to unintentionally neglecting you

You were a very quiet child and had a hard time with talking, not that you couldn’t talk, it’s just that speaking was very difficult for you

Your parents lived in a cabin in the woods and you loved it, until a forest fire broke out, you see, your quirk is fire manipulation, basically fire bending, you were playing outside at night when you accidentally set fire to the forest

It quickly spread and ended up consuming your home at night, your parents tried to drive away but they realized you weren’t with them which led them to suffocate from the thick smoke whilst they searched for you

You thought your parents abandoned you so you stayed put in your little tent in the woods. Your quirk allowed to keep the fire at bay but the panic and fear caused the flames to out of control

When the Wild Wild Pussycats got the call, Ragdoll reported your location and quirk. Pixie-Bob used her earth manipulation to smother the flames. While Tiger searched the area, Mandalay tried talking to you telepathically

She helped you breathe and calm down, as you breathed, the flames seemed to grow and shrink with your breathes. After you calmed down, Mandalay eventually reached you and brought you to their place in the woods

Originally you were terrified of fire due to the trauma of accidentally killing your parents, even though they ignored you often

Mandalay introduced you to her nephew Kota, Kota saw how terrified of fire you were and showed you his water quirk

Together with therapy and the joined help of Mandalay and Kota, you slowly learned to accept your quirk and lost your fear of it

Kota also helped you with speech therapy and you slowly learned to speak

Every step of progress you made, no matter how small, was celebrated and praised, even when you relapsed your were congratulated for your effort

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midnight x reader #Nemuri katana x reader #Nemuri x child reader #Ryukyu x reader #Ryukyu x child reader #pro heroes x child reader #Mandalay x reader #Mandalay x child reader #wild wild pussycats #x child reader #x abused reader