#( I still have my tablets but they don't work well at all for tumblr writing

[jackiezenauthor]

Illustration by me.

Complete image will be available on my bluesky account. Full resolution image will be available on my Patreon once I figure out how to post on it from my tablet and how 'by item' subscription works to everyone's benefit (so u don't have to pay per just one drawing and I don't have to stress about posting monthly even though I probably will). I'll keep you updated

In the saddle

🔞 Minors DNI, ty.

Story posted on A03 as well, I won't remove it from there even if Tumblr goes entirely purity-mode one day.

--

Genre: Paranormal erotica

Word count: 3k

---

Cw: you pov, stink enjoying mc, mild self degrading mc, containment, dubcon (?), stranger danger, haunted item (lmk if I missed anything important, ty)

----

This is a work of fiction!

No haunted items were harmed for the writing of this story.

-----

------

Synopsis: Some people enjoy LARPing and historical items. You take that a few steps further. Tonight, you have your eyes on a saddle so old, they even think it's haunted. You don't believe in such nonsense, but you might be proven wrong...

‘Tonight is THE night!’ you tell yourself as you head for the stables with the dimmest light you could manage, just enough so you don’t step on any unfortunate animals, but not enough to alert anyone else nearby.

You've been working at the farm for a few weeks now, and pulled your weight rather well too, if you might say so yourself. They expected a lot more complaining from your rich ass, raised in the big city, hydrated on cocktails around the pool, but they had no idea how much you found yourself loving the place. Among other things.

The smells, the animals, the sounds, the feeling of dirt under the manicure that you’ve already cut short as soon as you heard about your parents’ plans for your summer…

Not to say you couldn’t say no to them. Not only are you old enough to live on your own already, despite the struggles that cooking for yourself still raises, but you know exactly how low to lower your lip and scrunch your eyebrows at your parents to have them give up any ill will that they might hold against you. Deserved or not.

You didn’t do it this time.

They thought it was because you were finally willing to take responsibility for your irresponsible choices, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The true reason was waiting for you in the barn. Quiet, rugged from overuse, smelling like anything but the leather that it’s made of: a saddle so old, nobody could tell how it even got there in the first place.

‘Might as well be part of the ole land, at this point’ their grandmother had said.

‘I reckon it outlived five barns now,’ the grandfather had said.

‘Word is, it’s haunted’ their daughter had said. ‘Don’t go looking about the barn if ye hear any ungodly noises, hear me?’

There were no ungodly noises to hear, as you stepped closer and brushed your fingers all across its unkept seat… yet.

If all went well tonight and nobody went by the barn, same as both weeks you’ve been around now, some ungodly sounds might come out… out of your mouth, that is.

Despite its mysterious age, the saddle holds perfectly fine as you move it from its resting wedge and onto the saddle rack closest to the height you need for your plans. Smells like sweat, tobacco, horses and filthy things that you can only guess, and you can feel your body tingling with anticipation, as you muse about adding your own filth to it.

There’s beauty in old things. You’ve always had a fondness to them, to the stories they might have lived through, the people who might have touched them. And old things in places as simple and unassuming as this, you can get to know them in ways that others might frown about… personal ways…

A horse whinnies in the pasture nearby and a dog barks with little conviction. You can hear the wind rustle the trees and grass around, but nothing human, nothing that could spoil your fun.

It’s time.

Your night gown drops off you easily and the hay and dirt on the floor sticks to your naked soles. There might be something wet on the ground too, and it makes you feel dirty. A smirk pushes at the corners of your mouth. The barn smells like it should: dung, dried herbs, old iron, spent wood, grains and leather…

The saddle is rough against your belly as you wiggle your way on it. Not sitting, like one should, but bent across it, like a damsel kidnapped by some rugged wild west men, ready to rob some train, lose all their loot in the pub, and brawl over which one gets to show you a good time first, not necessarily in that order.

Maybe the one carrying you might not even wait until you stop anywhere…

You bite your lip as your breasts hang down, your attempts at adjusting your position without touching the ground, as you would on a horse, making them jump, gravitation pulling against them. Your heart takes off as your imagination mingles with reality, the saddle under you easing you in the scene. It’s perfect like this, you know exactly what you want to hear, how to be held. Imaginary or not, you know you’re in for a really good time.

Touching yourself over the saddle sounded much easier in your mind, but you’ve been eyeing this saddle for far too long to have come unprepared. There’s something already inside you, just waiting for your instruction… at one press of a button…

Your smart watch is dead.

You could have sworn it was fully charged when you left your room in the farmhouse. You’ve been so meticulous too, made sure it worked on Bluetooth alone, if the signal was to fail you. There’s a manual switch too..

If only…

If only you could reach around…

A rag and what could only have been another saddle fall from a rack above and miss you by a scrape of your head, taking off your hair tie. That’s lucky. It could have taken off your conscience too, was it to fall any closer. Or worse? That would be a fun way to hit the news… good thing you wouldn’t be there to see it.

You could get off, start the vibrator, and get back on before you hit the first orgasm. Would be harder to stop or control it, but that sounds rather exciting, now that you think about it. Your misfortune turned out for much better instead.

…

You can’t get off.

Your toes can almost touch the ground, but your ribcage can’t pass through the space between the racks. They must have misaligned when that saddle tried to end your career…

Oh, no…

“Well, I’ll be darned…” a distinctly male voice vibrates in the silence of the barn, just as you were trying to turn around enough to see what’s keeping that blasted rack from moving off you.

Fuck!

You got so distracted with your fantasies, you forgot to pay attention to your surroundings. You’ve never gotten caught before. Today was the day.

“You look rather… tight, miss?” the man speaks again, from right behind you.

The racks are blocking your view and the hair in your face and the darkness of the night aren’t helping either. Moonlight doesn’t reach in the back of the barn, where he is. You don’t know his voice either. Who, and most importantly, why would they be here at this time of the night? Had he been here this all time? Watching you undress? Climbing in? Struggling?

He rests a hand against the rack that’s holding you pinned, but it doesn’t budge. You know he’s moving behind you, but you can’t hear any steps. Even if he was barefoot too, the floor should creak…

You do feel his hand caressing your waist, however, from right under your trapped ribcage.

“You could scream, ya know? I reckon someone would come help…” he says, his hand slowly following your hip and spine, his touch cold like the night air. You should be scared, but it makes you feel reassured somehow. Like you're some horse he’s trying to befriend… a very caught-red-handed horse…

You want to point out that he could help you himself, since he’s already here, but your voice cuts off when his other hand mirrors the first and his fingers dig into your ass, lifting you up for a closer look.

“What in tarnation?” he huffs and his breath travels all between your thighs.

He must’ve seen your vibrator and you’d like to tell him a thing or two about minding his own business, but he also found the button for it and your feet instantly raise and tremble as the stimulation hits you without warning. You hate to admit it but this entire situation… it works.

You curl against the saddle and jolt as you come before you can even remember yourself. The vibration keeps going as you do, and you can’t help but whine in humiliation and ecstasy as you come again, right between the strangers hands, his grip unyielding as you shake. He must be enjoying it. Seeing you writhe like this. Helpless. Trapped.

“You alright there, miss?” he asks while you come a third time.

You can taste the amusement in his tone, but his voice is low, his every word pronounced just a bit too carefully… He’s past just enjoying this.

There should be a remission time after you’ve come five times in a row, but you’ve never done that in front of someone else… your lower half entirely in their hands… Their eyes catching ever twitch of your pussy. You can’t even tell if your heart is racing or just took off on its own at this point.

You’re never going to hear the end of this, if word comes out.

“Please… stop it!” you manage to say between tears and gasps, too many emotions rushing for your attention at once while your ass is twitching so high in the air.

“Why, I thought you put that there plumb on purpose…” he chuckles but the vibration stops before you can start curling again. “Le’me give ya a hand then…”

A moan escapes your throat as you feel your vibrator pulled out of you, slow but deliberate, the orgasm you were heading for before he turned it off, revived within you. You can’t stop yourself from grinding against his other arm, as it stands right between your legs, supporting your belly.

You barely register your toy hitting the floor as you writhe in the stranger’s palm, his hold against you steady, despite your juices already spilled all between your thighs, much more still flowing out of you and all across his arm. You can feel him breathe against the curve of your back: cold but slow, heavy. It makes sense, a weak, rational thought passes your mind, but the animal, feral side of you is nothing but delighted to be met in kind.

Now that there’s nothing inside you, your body frets, demands… there’s nothing inside you…

“I reckon…” his voice is so low, he sounds like purring and your pussy throbs against his arm as the vibration trickles across your skin. “t’wasn’t bein’ stuck that ailed ya… and ya done made your problem mine, lass…”

He lifts your ass higher in the air, his hand still under you, your clit jumping to attention as it rubs against his wrist. You could die of embarrassment. But maybe… not just yet…

You try your best to keep from trembling and moaning as his other hand brushes across your innermost thigh and his thumb slips between the folds of your already tender pussy. It finds your entrance easily and he pauses by it, pressing to go in but not quite. Hesitant. He growls in a language you’ve never heard before and pulls his thumb away, straightening up and dropping you gently. He’s no longer touching you. Worse: he’s taken a step back.

After all of this?

Is he going to just up and leave you like this?

Would he at least set you free before, or will you have to endure the horror of being found in the morning, hopefully by anyone other than the grandma.

But you can hear cloth and metal, maybe leather?

“I won’t force myself upon you, miss,” he says while you can clearly hear him unbuckling his belt. “I never was that kind of man.”

‘Until now?’ you want to throw at him, but find yourself reluctant to argue.

“I reckon we can help each other a smidgen, though,” he says and grabs you once more, rougher this time, holding you up with an arm around your waist while he brings himself to you.

You feel his legs strap around yours while his cock slides right between your thighs, hard and impossible to ignore when it rubs tight between your lower lips and clit, hitting your belly.

On the outside.

“Just yell or make noise if you need me to stop” he says as his legs trap yours tightly and his hands grab each side of your waist.

It’s not stopping that you need him to do. You can tell he’d fill you up to the brim and your insides throb wilder than ever at the prospect. Wanting. Craving.

He pulls away before you can say anything, adjusting his grip one last time before slamming against you, his tip teasing your clit as your insides cry in equal parts excitement and frustration.

The sounds of your wet flesh against his unrelenting thrusts fills the barn and your entire body shakes with them. You want to say something, but save from yelling, you worry he won’t hear you, and he’s chasing the breath out of you as it is.

Your core heats up, you barely keep from collapsing against the rack you’re holding for dear life against. The pleasure. It floods from deep within you and your legs escape his grip as you shake under his thrusts. Your heels hit his ass hard and he grunts, his momentum disturbed.

He readjusts and is just about to resume when you finally manage to catch your breath enough to say “In…”

He pauses. He must’ve heard you but you weren’t clear enough.

“Put it in!” you manage to say.

“Well I’d never refuse…” he readjusts his grip on you and pulls away just enough to make room for his cock to tease your drenching pussy. “…such a lovely invitation.”

You can taste the smirk he says it with, even if he also sounds wistful, but have no time to even think of a retort before he moves inside you, your walls wrapping warm against him. Welcoming.

He swears, and whatever he mutters along with it comes out shaky as your insides throb against his advancing thrusts.

Demanding. Hungry. Still not full enough. Still not hard enough.

Your ass perks up, helpful, giving him all the room he could possibly need, your gspot pressed tighter against his length.

“Thirsty little thing…” he breathes out, his grip on you painful as he touches your inner ring at the same time as his hips come flush against your splayed ass. If his dick was made to order, it would still not reach as perfectly.

He seems to be enjoying the same idea for a moment, his grip loosening just enough that you can wiggle. Just enough that you can swing your hips against him. Urging him where your mind and voice are too taken with the thrill of a fullness you’ve never though possible, and the anticipation of what’s to come.

He resumes thrusting, too gentle at first.

“Harder…” you manage to breathe out but you can’t tell if your mouth managed to pronounce it. It felt more like a pleading moan… and once that was out, there is no stopping the others.

He thrusts harder with every single one of your moans, and every thrust breeds yet another moan, even more pleading than the other. More demanding… more pathetic.

If someone walked in on you now, you’d care for nothing, as long as you kept getting fucked.

Your throat is dry and you feel wet around your mouth but you can do nothing other than cry out in mindless delight as he slams harder into you, so hard that you could swear the whole barn might come apart above you. Your body holds. No, it craves for more. It craves for all. Insatiable.

His grunts behind you have long changed to moaning, his thrusts wild, unstoppable, unhinged. Pleasure that has been playing all across your body gets drawn to full attention, no longer just to the thrashing of your core, but to his grip, his voice, his mindlessness.

The ecstasy organizes. You feel it come together like a horde, savage and relentless in one goal only: ripping you apart. You’re helpless against it. And eager. It’s closing in.

He growls loud and helpless, his thrusts speeding up as your core clenches against him, your insides quaking as overwhelming pleasure threatens to tear at the very seams of your being. Unyielding. Unstoppable.

It’s as if a vulcano breaks from the center of your very existence as you shudder and curl against the saddle, around his cock, in his arms, his fingers digging so tight into your hips that you could swear your skin gave, but the pain only peppers the ecstasy that takes over when his moan sounds delightfully ethereal alongside yours. You can feel your insides trying to squeeze him dry still, as he fills every last space left within you with his cum.

You lay limp from the saddle, his hips still flush against your ass, his cock still deep inside you and you both catch your breaths and minds from everywhere.

“Darn, sweetheart…” he whispers, slowly pushing himself to his feet. Your insides complain as he pulls out just as slowly, but they’re too spent to put up any fight. “They’d need a locomotive to pull me out of you, were I still kickin…” he lets his hands brush across your back so slow and intent, it feels like a caress.

There is a mess of rags and saddles all around you, every rack destroyed, but the one you’re still bent over, the old saddle tight against your belly. The whole barn looks like a tornado just went through it…

“Alas…” the stranger whistles sadly.

It’s morning, and everything around you is increasingly visible, but when you slip off the saddle and turn to look at the stranger, there is nothing but darkness. Pitch, surreal, darkness.

You can feel his hands caress your legs as you pull away, but still nothing of him. The entire side of the barn where he’s standing is nothing but strange, unrelenting blackness. As if the night itself is taking refuge there.

A rooster crows outside, announcing the new day, and, as its song travels across the morning dew, the darkness lessens, giving way to… nothing. The entire side of the barn is empty of even the smallest speck of dust. Not even your toy is there.

Everything around, but the barn itself and the saddle you got fucked on is in complete disarray, you included. There’s bits of mysteriously old leather rubbed into your skin, the smell of it sunken into your pores. You can’t explain what has gone on, but you can still feel its aftermath. You can see it too: your inner thighs are punctured, blood dripping slowly, mixing with juices that are not only yours.

The dogs bark by the farmhouse and the animals start fretting. Soon, the family and their helping will come out to tend to the farm’s many needs. They’ll ask questions that you have no answer to.

You need to get dressed before they see you… still dripping…

[ripleyslover]

Little Storm Chaser Javi Rivera x reader

Hi this is my first fic on Tumblr I'm usually on Wattpad but I recently made the switch and want to get back into writing so please leave suggestions for fics and comments on my work to help me get better.

Javi was working with the Storm Par and had invited you to work with him a few months ago.You,Javi and Kate survived the accident 5 years ago, you had just got in touch with Kate and convinced her to come to Oklahoma to study some big tornadoes.Scott, Javis 'best friend', was always suspicious of you and with Kate coming to town it made him more suspicious.

You walked over to Javi resting his chin on his shoulder slightly tired He smiled as he felt your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned against you. "Tired?" He asked gently. "Yeah" you hum "do we have any new data" you ask curiously He nodded in response. "We have some new storm readings and patterns," he replied, gesturing towards the data on the tablet in front of him,You look up happily grabbing the data tablet and studying it.He watched your eyes dart over the data, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was always impressed by your focus and determination when it came to understanding the storms.You look outside before walking outside rolling your sleeves up standing outside,this was something you always did when you were in college storm chasing it was your gift of figuring out storms just like Kate.

As you stood outside Scott walks over to Javi as Scott approached Javi, a serious expression on his face. "Hey, I need to talk to you," he said quietly, gesturing for Javi to follow him a few steps away from you Javi looks at you then walks with Scott "What?" He asked still keeping an eye on you Scott looked at you, then back at Javi, lowering his voice. "I don't trust her," he said bluntly, his expression darkened. "We've been working with her for a couple of months, but I can't shake this feeling that there's something off about her" "Like what?" Javi asks Scott's eyes remained fixed on you. "I don't know," he admitted. "The way she handles herself, the way she's almost too calm during a storm... it's all just a little suspicious, don't you think?" He turned back to Javi.Javi chuckles "She's likes storms they intrigue her" Scott let out a scoff. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. Normal people fear storms, they avoid them. But she has a strange fascination with them. It's not normal." "So?"Javi says getting annoyed Scott's irritation began to show. "So? So, it's not normal," he repeated. "It doesn't sit well with me, and you should be just as suspicious. We can't afford to have any weak links on this team." Javis eyes darken as he looks at Scott "She's not weak" Javi says annoyed knowing what happened five years ago,Scott shrugged. "You're too close to her, man. You're letting your friendship blind you to what could be a potential threat." He shot another glance at you before focusing back on Javi. Javi chuckles "She's coming to New York with us we're getting Kate and you'll be surprised what they can figure out when their together" Javi says clearly done with the conversation Scott's irritation turned to surprise. "Kate?" he echoed. "You're bringing her along too? This is getting out of hand, Javi. How can you trust them both?"Javi rolls his eyes about to speak as you walk over.

"What don't believe in us Scott your the one who screamed,like girly screamed,at thunder and only thunder" you say looking at him smugly Scott huffed, clearly annoyed at the mention of his girly scream during a thunderstorm. Javi, however, couldn't help but chuckle at your interruption. You smile"At a lose for words?" You say pushing his buttons Javi shook his head amused,the tension in his shoulders relaxing a bit. He looked at you, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes."You have a habit of showing up at the most inconvenient times, don't you?" he teased, his smile widening,you hum "At the best times" you say crossing your arms Javi chuckled, his smile transforming into a smirk."Debatable," he retorted. "But I'll give you credit for timing, I guess." You roll your eyes "Whatever your just mad I interrupted your and Scotts conversation"  Javi's smirk softened as he looked at you. "Nah, not mad," he admitted. "Just annoyed that Scott's still got a stick up his-" He stopped himself, looking at Scott, who was giving him a cold glare. You chuckle amused with Javis comment,He couldn't help but smile at your chuckle, his annoyance melting away. Scott just rolled his eyes, clearly not amused by the entire conversation You look outside before looking at scott and Javi.

"Well don't get your hopes up the storms dying down" you say putting your hand on Javis shoulder looking at Scott.Scott huffed in response, while Javi just chuckled at your comment. He watched as you put your hand on his shoulder, his eyes not leaving your face. "You sure about that?" he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his tone."When am I wrong" you ask in a sassy tone he smirked, his tone turning playful. "Never," he admitted. "I should know better than to question the storm expert." Meanwhile, Scott just rolled his eyes again, clearly not impressed by Javi's banter with you.You chuckle smiling before rolling your eyes at scotts attitude.Javi chuckled at your eye roll, his smile growing wider.

Scott just crossed his arms, his expression still stoic. He clearly wasn't amused by the playful atmosphere between you and Javi."What's up your ass" you ask Scott bluntly,Scott grumbled at you, your blunt question catching him off guard. Javi's eyes widened slightly, surprised by your boldness, but also secretly amused by Scott's reaction you hum wait for a response,Javi tried to mask his amusement as he looked between you and Scott, who was still glaring at you. "You've got some balls, you know that?" he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth "Yep" you say happily He couldn't help but chuckle lowly at your fearless response. Scott, however, was not amused. He huffed in response, clearly irritated by your carefree attitude You smile looking at Scott.

[shoot-of-corruption]

Blog Announcement

Hi there my lovelies! It is a rare guest, Ria here :D

I put on an Oblivion Let's Play to hold my blood pressure low while formulating this announcement, so you better settle down with me xD

I would like to announce here how I will deal with my main blog and all my side blogs on tumblr from now on.

As most of you know, I am working a full time job in retail, so my nervous costume tends to be a tiny bit thin after around 9,5hrs of shift. I am happy to announce to you all that my time as a worker in retail is finally a finite one. If everything works out right, I won't just be able to start a homeoffice job by next year, but also live at a completely different place and city. Sadly there is still a good while of wait ahead of me until then and a lot of things are unsure as of yet. But I will do my best to get to that destination, because right now everything is pretty much murdering me.

What does that mean for my blogs? I have been on Hiatus for a long while, on and off, over years. And yet I have always returned here, more or less satisfied or happy with my performance or the RPC.

From this day on I will treat myself better about being able to come here and also, I will not spread myself thin anymore. I will transform Mariku into an Ask- and Art-Blog. Interactions are always welcome, on and off Anon, as well as dash commentary or writing pieces and updates of myself. You can tag Mariku and me in everything, the followed tags will stay the same, I will just update a few things on my BIO in the next days etc. [maybe I'll finally force myself to make a card, should the mobile pages not work anymore].

Things that will for the close future not be done on my blogs:

RP-Threads: no matter if long, short, or anything. I am torturing myself, because I cannot say no to new thread ideas and the moment I really get invested into plots, threads, ideas or anything alike, my partners tend to just leave and let me drop like a hot potato and I honestly neither need nor want that hate in my life anymore.

Anon-Hate: Will NOT be displayed on this channel. I will keep my Inbox with anonymous messages on, but every piece of disgusting hate will be immediately plucked out of the screen and burned in a bonfire. You will not get a stage here and you can be assured, that I will piss and shit on your disgusting hatred and then laugh about it for the coming week, because you are the most pathetic thing that I had the displeasure of even having to lay a momentary glance on <3

RPC/personal Drama: I will ignore drama and strictly remove myself from it. I will not be part or target of any hatred, impulsive meanness and/or random bouts of radical opinions. If you don't feel seen/represented in my opinions, turn around and find a place you fit into, but leave me and my muses alone.

Things that will be done on this blog (and partly my side blogs):

Ask-Memes: Of any kind. Ask-Plots, random asks, symbol ask memes, color memes, background memes, AU-memes and YES, also art related asks.

Open Commissions: I will open art commissions again after I had a bit more training on my tablet, for everybody, who wants to commission art. They will likely be limited and they may also for training reasons only be for free for training, thus included in art memes, but I will open paid commissions eventually again, definitely this year. I cannot tell you details, yet, but keep your eyes peeled ;)

IMs and Mun related things: You are definitely allowed to write IMs and ask me questions!! I am here to have fun as all of us are, so if your fun includes coming into my IMs and leaving a cat meme each day or send me weird asks, I am all here for it!! All of this might sound very dickish of me, but I just feel like I get too emotionally hurt and immersed and I want to protect me from bad feelings and you from my wrath xDDD

Thank you for reading all of this and I hope all of us can stick to those ground rules (for now) - we will get on peachy! If the fact that I am not RPing (for now) on here is breaking you beyond compare, I do own a Discord and I am usually willing to share it. Please contact me on here before adding me, so I know who exactly is adding me on there, otherwise, I might not accept your request. Discord: sangnoire

I will warn you though, that I will be very selective with accepting RPs and partners on there still and that any unwillingness to accept that will be met with... a uno-reverse card reaction x'D

[imtrashraccoon]

Question for all you lovelies...

I'm rather bored at the moment and struggling to make a decision with what project I should focus on (so I don't start a new one lol). I should mention that this poll is mostly to give me some direction and not necessarily what I will end up doing. See below the cut for a run down on each of the options.

The Lavender Den is a causal ask series with my Tumblr sona, Tumble, that I'm trying to keep up with. There isn't really any lore, yet, but anything you lovelies send in could end up in a future installment. I have one ask that I'm still working on so this project wouldn't take long to finish.

Cricket's Backstory (I have yet to name this oneshot) is a bit of a peek into the origins of my fae Sona, Cricket. I've admittedly been struggling with this one because it deals with some darker subjects than anything I have written to date. I have big plans for it but part of me worries it won't turn out as good as what I imagined. This one is something I think I want to sit on a bit longer as I want it to be good.

Skull is something I've been meaning to draw for a while for my fic, Swarmed by Sirens. I previously drew Red and Sans (also the Reader and another secret character...) so I want to draw him as well. He's a cephalopod siren though and the thought of trying to draw all those tentacles is rather daunting. I may just use my drawing tablet rather than my sketchbook to save my sanity. Otherwise, Chapter 4 is done! This could take me a little while to be completely happy with, depending if my perfectionist nature decides to rear it's head or not.

The Hand We've Been Dealt is my first fic and one that's been on hold for a while. I've been meaning to get back into writing it so that I can actually finish another project but I've been busy. Chapter 56 is partially written though so it wouldn't really take much to do.

To Defy A Dream is the Dreamswap oneshot I've teased on here before. It takes place in an alternate universe to The Nightmare of Apathy where Dream and Nightmare have opposite roles. I've written two sections so far but I think this oneshot is too ambitious for my original plans so I don't know when I'll end it just yet. For whatever reason, I struggle with writing Passive Nightmare too. I don't know how much longer this one will take.

The Nightmare of Apathy: Chapter 7 is pretty self-explanatory. I don't think this one is as urgent to finish but I have been excited to write it for months, except now the scene is giving me trouble. Writing each of these chapters can take me around one to two weeks, depending if I get stuck or busy of course.

[chaotic-goodsir]

For day 2 of this Hatchetverse series thing, here's part of the sequel to You Could Call This Luck that I've been trying and failing to finish. Turns out plotting a thing about time travel with multiple POVs and timelines is hard.

To avoid confusion: in this particular timeline, (most of) the events of the musicals didn't happen. Time Bastard did, though, because we all know Ted can't catch a break.

(Also sorry for the long post - I don't usually post fic like this directly to Tumblr, but since this is unfinished I didn't want to put it on Ao3 just yet)

*

Pete Lauter sits at the desk in his science classroom at Hatchetfield High School, trying to finish the last of the week's marking. His eyes are dry from staring at his tablet screen, and the hum of the heating units is starting to get on his nerves. His students' lab reports all blend into one after a while - most of them are clearly written by AI. Getting teenagers to write anything as unexciting as a lab report on their own these days is almost impossible. He's not sure why the school still requires it, but then who is he, a mere teacher, to question the relevance of the national curriculum? Only the guy who sees first-hand how badly it works for his students.

Pete doesn't hate his job, most of the time, but it can get exhausting. This particular evening, he's ready to go home, heat up yesterday's leftovers - maybe make a hot chocolate, why not? - and enjoy the Friday-night peace and quiet. Theo will be out somewhere with his friends, and Steph's away on highly-classified work business. It's the perfect time to finally start that sci-fi novel that's been sitting on his bedside table for weeks. He's craving some decent, interesting writing that isn't the work of a teenager or a robot.

Sounds like a plan, he thinks, saving the report he's been working through and switching the tablet to sleep mode. He'll get the last of the marking done on Sunday night. For now it's future-Pete's problem.

He pulls on his jacket - his favourite, the one with the elbow patches that Steph bought for him last Christmas - and is about to pack the tablet away when the screen blinks into life again.

Ruth Fleming's icon (a photo from her honeymoon in Europe, Ruth and her wife smiling in front of a clear blue sky) flashes onto the screen. It's no surprise that she's still at work - drama club starts in an hour, and she has rehearsals to direct. Pete sighs and taps the icon, hoping she isn't about to ask him to help out again.

'Hey Ruth,' he says. 'I was just about to head home - do you need something?'

Ruth sounds a little out of breath, the way she always does when she's anxious.

'Pete, thank god you're still here. You need to come to the north wing staffroom, now. It's your son.'

Pete freezes. 'Theo?'

'Of course it's Theo. Do you have another son? Look, I don't wanna worry you, but he's hurt. You should come quick.'

'What do you mean, hurt?' Pete asks, panic rising. What is Theo even doing in school, on a Friday night? Something stupid and dangerous, clearly, if he's managed to hurt himself.

Pete swings his backpack onto one shoulder, carrying the tablet in his free hand as he rushes out of the room. He doesn't bother to lock the classroom door.

'How badly? Like, ambulance bad?'

'I don't know. I don't think so. But he's talking crazy.'

He's talking, Pete thinks, okay. He feels bad for thinking it, but he's not 100% convinced this isn't just Theo pulling a prank. He wouldn't put it past his son to do this kind of thing for attention. Theo Lauter is a lot of things, but a well-adjusted teenager doesn't seem to be one of them, no matter what Pete and Steph try.

Ruth knows that, of course, and the worry in her voice is making Pete worry too. She'd see through a typical Theo prank pretty easily. Which means this is probably real.

'I'm on my way.' He tells Ruth. 'I'll be five minutes.'

He hangs up and races down the corridor, cutting through the courtyard to get to the North Wing. The staffroom is upstairs, in the English and Languages corridor. When he gets there, the door is wedged open. Ruth is by the sofa, trying to comfort a teenage boy who looks a lot like his son.

But there's no sign of Theo's trademark denim jacket or band t-shirt. This kid is wearing a white shirt, suspenders, and bowtie, all stained with - Pete realises in horror - a concerning amount of blood. Instead of Theo's ponytail, this kid has his hair down, shoulder length, pinned back to keep it out of his face. And this kid is wearing glasses, with a crack across one lens.

Theo has his mother's eyesight. He's never needed glasses in his life.

Either Theo's pranks have reached a whole new level of elaborate, or this is not Pete's son at all. This kid looks more like-

Well, he looks more like him. Like Pete himself, when he was 25 years younger.

Not for the first time, Pete considers that he really needs to move his family out of Hatchetfield. Only in this messed-up town would something like that even be a possibility.

The kid notices him standing in the doorway, and his eyes go wide behind his cracked glasses. Then he says something that disproves neither the actual-time-travel theory nor the Theo-pulling-a-prank one, but spooks Pete either way.

'...Ted?'

*

Agent Stephanie Lauter is in a highly classified meeting at the PIEP HQ when the smartwatch around her wrist starts to buzz.

She glances at it, annoyed, and sees her husband's icon blinking at her. Pete knows she's busy today. He wouldn't call unless it was something urgent. He's one of the only contacts who can call her through the HQ's high tech digital barrier system.

Maybe it's just an accident. She swipes the icon away. If it's urgent, he'll call back.

She waits for a pause in General Lee's presentation, then raises a hand.

'I'm sorry, sir. My husband is trying to call me - I think it's urgent.'

'Well, you had better take it then,' Lee says, with his characteristic earnestness. No matter the situation, the old General has a way of always seeming that he knows more than anyone else about what's going on. It's a little disconcerting.

He waves towards the door. 'Good luck, Agent Lauter. I hope your family are all safe and well.'

She thanks him, apologises again, and leaves quickly. Outside the meeting room, a security guard in a bulletproof vest watches her pace anxiously up and down the corridor as she returns Pete's call.

'Steph,' he says when he picks up. There's an anxious note in his voice that she does not like the sound of. 'Sorry, I know you're at work. Are you busy right now?'

'It's fine,' she says. 'What's wrong?'

'It's Theo,' Pete says, then pauses. 'Well, no, it's not Theo. At least he says he's not, and I think he's telling the truth. I... I don't really know how to explain this, Steph. It's gonna sound crazy.'

'Breathe, babe,' Steph says, because Pete is talking at about a hundred miles an hour now. 'I work for PIEP. I can cope with crazy.'

'Okay.' Pete says, taking a breath. 'Okay.'

'Is Theo alright?'

'Yeah. At least I hope so. He's at his friends, probably. I'm at school, and there's a kid here that looks like him. Ruth thought it was Theo, and he's covered in blood - not hurt, thank god, just covered in it - so she called me. But it's not. Not Theo, I mean.'

'What? Who is it?'

'I think it's me.'

To anyone else, in any other context, those words wouldn't make sense. Pete is a 41 year old man, and their son is 16. It would be insane to mistake one for the other. Not to mention that Pete is Pete. This kid that's shown up covered in blood can't possibly also be him. One person can't possibly be in two places at once.

But in Hatchetfield, anything is possible. And then, on top of that, there's the Spankoffski Effect.

Steph has often wished she could tell Pete more about the work she does for PIEP. About the data that shows his brother Ted's disappearance, back in 2019, wasn't just an unexplained tragedy but a large-scale temporal incident affecting multiple universes. Pete doesn't even know that there are multiple universes. It would probably break his little nerd heart if he knew she wasn't telling him.

Nor does Pete know about how, the day she told the now-retired General MacNamara that she and Pete were engaged, his congratulations came with a warning:

'By all means, marry a Spankoffski if you wish, Miss Lauter. But a word of advice. I'd strongly suggest you don't take that name, and don't give it to your children.'

When she asked him why, he'd told her that was classified. It wasn't until she graduated from training that she first heard about the Spankoffski Effect, and put two and two together.

In every timeline known to PIEP researchers, something with the power to sever a person from the flow of time itself has an interest in - no, more like an obsession with - Pete's brother, and possibly his entire family.

She's not sure she could tell her husband that part even if she had clearance.

And now Pete's younger self has appeared at the school where he teaches. Steph does not like the sound of that at all.

'You're sure it's not Theo pulling a prank? I wouldn't put it past him.'

'If it is, he deserves an oscar. And this kid has my phone, Steph. From years ago. With my medical alert details, everything. I don't think Theo would go that far.'

Probably not, no, but she wants to be absolutely sure. 'Have you called Theo? Checked where he is?'

'Shit,' Pete says, then catches himself for swearing in front of a student. 'I mean, uh, shoot, no. I should have done that.'

She tries adding Theo to the call they're already on. The line rings out, so she tries again. No answer.

'Steph, if you're calling him, I can't hear it ringing. I don't think this kid has Theo's watch.'

A message appears on Steph's watch screen:

< Fuck off, mom, I'm busy :) >

'Well,' She says, wondering briefly about nature and nurture and whether it's some failure of parenting that turned her son into such a little shit, 'our son just messaged me. Unless he can do that with only his mind, I don't think he's with you.'

'Okay,' Pete says. Then, 'shit.' He doesn't catch himself this time.

Shit is right, Steph thinks. 'Wait there. Keep the kid calm. Stay calm yourself, okay? I'll come to you.'

She doesn't tell him she's planning to bring PIEP agents with her, but he's probably figured that out already.

'Aren't you in DC?'

'Yeah, so you'll have to hold out for a few hours. Anything weird happens - anything else weird - you call me straight away, okay?'

'Okay. Yeah. Love you.'

'Love you too.'

Steph hangs up. She pinches the bridge of her nose with one hand and groans, wondering why she never had the sense to move her family out of Hatchetfield.

Would that have helped, though? If something from the Black and White is after Pete, couldn't it find him anywhere, if it wanted to?

The security guard is staring at her.

'Everything okay, ma'am?'

'Yeah,' she says. 'I'm fine. Just - don't ever marry a Spankoffski, no matter how cute he is.'

The guard blinks, clearly baffled.

'Um... right.'

[elvenbeard]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Yes I'm actually doing this on a Wednesday wooo :D

I just went back through all my tags of the last month and man, you guys ;__; <3 I'm not good at keeping up with tumblr atm and I don't have something to share every week, so I think once a month a WIP Wednesday might be a good compromise XD Thank you for all the tags!!

@theviridianbunny @dreamskug @ouroboros-hideout @lokiina @therealnightcity @chevvy-yates tagging you all right back!

So, with that off of my list of works in progress, as is answering all the tag games and quizzes, some projects I'm working on atm:

Writing: Love is stored in the olive jar (WT) - Chapter 13

It's done, but still needs a lot of editing, as it got very heavy on dialogue in the end and I want it all to flow more nicely and make it a bit more scenic XD Too many instances of "she looked up again" or "he paused for a moment/second" xD But I'm getting there! Here's a snippet from the already somewhat polished beginning:

“Alright,” Fuentes said as she finally caught her breath again, “I suggest we cut straight to the chase.” “Yes,” V nodded, “Thank you again for taking the time.” “Of course,” Fuentes nodded, “I have to admit, I have been thinking about you and your case a lot these past days. Even with the limited knowledge I have so far, I still believe I may be able to help. If you are willing now to tell me more about your condition now, of course.” ‘Willing’ wasn’t the word V would use, it was more a necessity at this point. “I will,” he said, “But only if you can provide me with a certain level of security.” Fuentes shifted in her chair slightly and frowned, then she opened one of the drawers of her desk and pulled out a tablet. She turned it on and began to search for something on it while maintaining eye contact with V as best as she managed. “You’ve come here today as my patient. As far as I’m concerned, everything, anything that we discuss, falls under the doctor-patient confidentiality. My contract with the Little China MedCenter binds me to treat your data and information with utmost care and discretion. All data we store is locked away securely, all in accordance with your Trauma Team policy. I can resend you the patient information papers and contracts, although I think most of them you should already have…” “I care less about the MedCenter than about what you personally do with the information I’m going to give you,” V said, and Fuentes stopped her search, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re alluding to,” she said, still polite, but significantly more tense than before. “Nothing,” V shook his head carefully, “This is just not something I tell random strangers on the street… no offense, of course. If I have to play with open cards, I need you to as well.”

In which Vince hates doctors but has to trust one now, boo XD

Writing: Some drabbles :3

Inbetween the longfic I still have some ask prompt drabbles to fill that I'm looking forward to tackling soon! And in a sudden burst of inspiration I wrote out a long although not very serious convo between Vince and Johnny the other day xD I'd love to turn it into a (VP) comic maybe, but I'm not sure yet XD

Art: Nothing new since last time, slowly chipping away at some bigger projects inbetween

VP: Currently no concrete plans for a bigger project

Although I wanna do more "days in the life" for Vince!! And I wanna play around more with some poses though and have a very soft set to share that I gotta edit a bit still ;_; Tomorrow probably!

Also, I'd like to turn the interface thingies from my recent "V as NPC" projects into shareable templates, that is also on my wip/ to-do list! Just wanna gather some in-game reference shots first :D

Modding: 👀👀👀

I'm working on a little something maybe, and I'm so excited :DDD Just gotta relearn how to do Archive XL, it's been half a year xD And I fought MLSetup Builder so fucking hard, but now I know how to edit MLMask Setups, so that's a victory at least XD And I have a base for a very kitschy coat :3

But yes, so much to that so far! See you again in a month or so probably with an ever-growing pile of wips xD But maybe some more writing, maybe some more art, and maybe a finished mod after too long 👀

[cbk1000]

Hey, what are you into right now (movies, books, series)? Or even not right now, but in the past, outside of Merlin? I feel you have wicked taste, and I’m desperate for a new hyperfixation. Please, some recs if you have them!

Hey, anon! Sorry; I spaced on answering this.

I don't generally watch a lot of movies or TV shows, because I prefer reading. TV is generally for when I want to shut my brain off and just be entertained, so I wouldn't call a lot of what I do watch good. But if you haven't seen them yet, Our Flag Means Death and Sense8 are both really good shows. Both were pretty popular on tumblr at one point or another, so you may have already seen them, but if not, I really recommend giving them a go. Also, this is dated now, but it still holds up as a sitcom: I've spent most of my recovery rewatching Frasier, which I saw as a kid when it was first airing in the 90s. Ditto Third Rock from the Sun, which still makes me laugh, no matter how many times I've seen it.

This is a video game, but I've been playing an RPG set in medieval Bohemia that's really scratching my nerd itch; it's called Kingdom Come. It's very immersive and has been keeping me company the last couple of weeks while I get to the point in my recovery where I feel well enough to do more than lay in bed staring at my tablet, but am not quite yet a fully functioning human.

As for books, I'm finishing up a historical mystery series, 'Brother Cadfael' by Ellis Peters, set in medieval England during The Anarchy. I've thoroughly enjoyed it and am sad to have only one book left.

I just started rereading 'The Wolf Hall' trilogy by Hilary Mantel, which follows the rise and fall of Thomas Cromwell during Henry VIII's reign. I found the trilogy very gripping and difficult to put down my first time through, and though I've only just started the first book again, it's having the same effect, even though I just read it a couple of years ago. Definitely check out a preview of this first, though; I love Mantel's unique style, but I know a lot of readers find it difficult.

I read 'Shadowplay' by Joseph O'Connor a couple of years ago and really enjoyed it. This follows Bram Stoker during his time as a manager at a London theatre, his struggles with his writing (he didn't really find commercial success until after his death), and the experiences that led to 'Dracula.'

For the last couple of years I've been making my way through most of Guy Gavriel Kay's work, which I recommend if you like poetic, historically-inspired fantasy. I started with 'A Brightness Long Ago', but I recommend picking whatever time period that interests you personally (the Sarantine duology, for instance, is set in an analogue of the Byzantine Empire; 'A Brightness Long Ago' evokes Renaissance Italy, and then 'Under Heaven' and its companion 'River of Stars' imperial China).

Ditto with Terry Pratchett and his Discworld, a hilarious satirical fantasy series. I started with 'Guards Guards' and read the City Watch books and then moved on to the books featuring the witches. Special shout-out to his 'Nation', which is not a Discworld book, but is one of the best novels I've read in years.

I've also been immersed in Arthurian literature and heaps of non-fiction about the Plantagenet reign for the last few years. My favourite work of Arthuriana is probably 'Idylls of the King' by Tennyson. It's gorgeous and haunting. 'The Plantagenets' by Dan Jones is a good, accessible introduction to that period of history if you're at all inclined to non-fiction. He's a historian, but it's not a stodgy, academic text.

I hope there's something here for you!

[sleepyowlwrites]

writer positivity tag

a tablet engraved in a language I don't know from @365runesoftheamalgamations

What motivates you to write?

literally anything. overall, it's because I have the stories in my head and they're taking up brain space! I need to get them out! and it's fun! and in the moment to moment of it, it's that one singular idea or emotion that was tumblr through my brain spaces and I really want to capture it in THIS story, with THESE characters. so I do that. I like taking things that I couldn't previous convert from wispy colors and spiky feelings into sentences that can impact people, whether in such a way that it makes them giggle or it sucker punches them or whatever. I like to do the thing. and! bonus for me, 'cause at this point, after all these years, I'm really good at it. so that helps.

A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not, maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them):

there's not a thing I'm most proud of. I keep improving, you know, so I keep writing things I'm newly most proud of. but then also, I'm still really, really proud of things that I don't think are that well written anymore, but that represent something for me, some part of who I was or what I was going through. I don't know about "most" but, here's something.

a sketch, bold lines, chromatic (2021)

do you want a self-portrait? I can give you one.

my heart is here, on my sleeve, right next to my elbow. I keep it in a plastic bag so it doesn’t get wet, but you can see it. it’s real, and pulsing, and the love can come out of it just fine. love is not tangible, you see, unless it has already left the heart in which case I can put it in my hands and lay them on your cheeks and then it is very tangible in so far as you will allow yourself to feel it.

I wear my shoes with the laces double knotted and I rarely untie them. I slip them on for work and kick them off when I get home. they fall haphazardly by the door, but they are by the door, kept, not lost, and are ready for use when I need them.

my hair is large around my head until I tie it back, but it curls as it will and I let it, because that is what my hair does. it is mine, and I intend to keep it, no matter what color it is or if it’s only half-braided because I slept on my side. my freckles go away in the winter, but I don’t miss them because I know they’ll return. there’s a small scar beside my eye. it shows more when I’m tired, and it hangs there like a mark on the moon and I’m not ashamed of it. it does not say that I am shadowed, it just means that I fell down as a child.

I drape myself in the colors I like, not the colors I think I appear to be. others will see me and hear me and decide what I am, and I like that I am more than shades of purple to the people outside of my head. I am purple to me, and that’s the most important, but if you see me as yellow and it makes you smile then I accept it with honor, I wear it like a pin beside my chest cavity, a souvenir for when I’m sleeping and my heart has crawled back home.

I can go on. but I know you’re not listening, or seeing, either. I hold out my arm so that my heart beats directly in front of yours and yet you are empty and walled and distant. I can wait outside for you but if you won’t open the door I can’t force my way in. and I won’t try, either.

I wear my heart on my sleeve but it’s up to you to choose to see.

Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them, and what are they like?

I have too many ocs for this, but here's my main guys:

R - dramatic, flirtatious lad, always on the verge of self-destruction until someone pulls him back by needing him. he's 17 and lives like it, one quip at a time. his heart is large and melty, and he just wants to be good, and is learning how to put in the work.

Jet - angry, tired, needing something to live for but unwilling to find it himself. he'll punch all your demons before confronting his own and finds too much exultant delight in the act. he doesn't want to experience emotions but he'll do it for you. and maybe, maybe for himself, as a result.

Nyks - sunshine child. delight of everyone's lives. he's lost his memory and his family but he has friends who love him. is always in need of cuddles and always gets them. encourager extraordinaire. a guardian angel, a baby.

(all my ocs can be found through a handy link in my pinned post if you wanted to hear me talk about some girls, maybe)

What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

draft 0. just writing whatever story comes out first and running with it. is it coherent? is it linear? is it on track to end? who knows! finding out is part of the fun! it's so enjoyable that I spend all my time here.

What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

dialogue is an easy answer. but also setting the tone, showcasing a particular dynamic in a short amount of time, and summarizing a very specific vibe or emotion with one pointed metaphor or paragraph. I do sensory emotion really well, and create whole atmospheres in just a few lines. maybe I don't mention where the heck the characters are but you definitely know what they're feeling (or what the pov is, anyway)

What is something in the writeblr community that is most enjoyable?

having friends! that I don't even just talk about writing with. we have random and strange and wonderful conversations about anything and develop inside jokes and I adopt a lot of them. it's great! and also I love tag games. I'm so slow about doing them because I am *rolls eyes* advancing in years and it takes so much more energy to do stuff *rolls eyes again* but I love them. I hoard them.

A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

scrivener is the best thing. I literally just updated to version 3 today and it's cleaner and smoother. I used onenote all through high school and beyond but then I just stopped? something about it didn't click with me anymore but I needed something with organization. I refuse to write in word or googledocs. so three? years ago I bought myself scrivener for my birthday and it's been amazing.

I do also keep a writing journal (I say journal very loosely) and sometimes bring it with me places and there's all kinds of random thoughts and snatches of scenes and what have you in there. I used to never write by hand because it's so slow, but my brain has changed a bit over the years and now I can write up to like, 4k by hand before I just can't anymore. I usually just do between 400-900 words though.

A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law, etc)

I love that the kids in Youth Story have superpower for literally no reason. I just stuck them in there and they just have them. it turns the slice of life into slice of surreal life and I love it.

and I love the cities in my stories. Sinderport and Rasterpool are the only ones with names at the moment but I have a bunch and they all have character and layouts in my head and specific attributes like being on a river or the gangs or the street slang. for being not a city person I really like to write about them.

and I love the magic in Guild Story. it's unwieldy and tricky and doesn't just "solve problems" and also I just love the three guild houses. they just came to me! and I was like "really, the ya x of x format" but c'mon. House of Favors sounds cool. anyway I gotta write more of this wip it's really interesting.

Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters:

Maybe Sorcery @akindofmagictoo Ember @ashen-crest (buy her books! so good!) Ghosty @zmwrites Idea @oh-no-another-idea Breezy @blind-the-winds Celadon @abalonetea (buy books!) Klaus @kaiusvnoir Klove @klywrites Rainstorm @avrablake Moonink @drippingmoon Stars Books @vellichor-virgo Cozy @ink-fireplace-coffee Glowstick @ellatholmes Ren-rill-ren @ren-c-leyn Rarity @uraniumwriting Sounding @diphthongsfordays Ocelot @ambiguouspuzuma Bender @writing-is-a-martial-art Tangerine @the-orangeauthor and everybody else on the nickname list

but also I love all of my Sleepyheads.

^people feel free to do the tag, and anybody else who sees this, and also maybe @crypticcodexcreations @thegreatobsesso @sarahlizziewrites @thetruearchmagos @sam-glade

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

My lord WTF??????? O.o Has this anon never been a teenager before or something??

I mean like…. I know of 12 year olds that have sex and do all that shit; watch porn, fucking, everything. It’s sad kids that age can find that stuff so easily but what do expect to happen when you give a kid a phone or a tablet.

You could heavily watch their history and/or screen time, but there could be complications between you and your kid as they start to get older and you’re still a helicopter parent. You don’t want that cause then that kid WILL go out and sneak around behind your back, trying to live the life they want to live.

And if this anon is American then where the fuck have they been living?? Under a rock??? God, kids being sexual is all over the internet, vast majority of them are American! It’s sad! But it’s true.

I don’t want to dismiss this anons feelings or nothing but they seriously could have left quietly instead of making a big deal out it and basically trying to make you feel bad. You have every right to write whatever you want. No one gets to say otherwise but yourself.

And no, it’s not like you are writing dead dove content. Your work is sweet, loving, and intimate in all the best ways. You bring a real tone and picture to your work and that is something to be appreciated.

Many don’t bring that same level of realness that you do. It’s better to appreciate it than lose it. Yeah, you’re seventeen, but that shouldn’t matter, you’re basically already an adult. The anon really should have been able to see your age in your bio no matter how much stuff you have in it. You have emojis around it for christ sake, it’s not like you’re hiding it!!!

And you know what, you’re basically an adult once you hit sixteen since that’s when you can get your drivers license and get a job, you just can’t get alcohol or smokes. (At least that’s how it is for Americans)

People need to get off the superiority and high and mighty train. It’s not a good look when you basically harass a teenager for writing smut that YOU USED TO READ, just so you can feel better about yourself. If you think scolding someone is gonna get you respect, it sure as hell ain’t! That scolded person could very well whoop your ass if you’re not careful.

Well, anywho. There’s my rant on that bullshit.

You keep doing you Fi. You’re amazing and wonderful and do such a spectacular job on every one of your pieces. That anon could have left quietly and kept their ridicule to themselves, cause honestly I bet they read and watched smut/porn when they were below the age of eighteen and they’re just being a hypocrite.

Don’t let these hypocrites get you down love. Stay bright, stay beautiful, and stay creative.

So much love to you Fi 🤟🏻🫶🏻💗💗

~Iz⭐️💜

I know, right?!

I don't understand why on Tumblr, specifically, there's this very odd superiority when it comes to age.

And like, even if you put "18+ MDNI" on your posts, that's not gonna stop anyone.

Also, lying about your age is the easiest thing to do 😭

But I didn't want to do that. Because I knew that if I found some friends on here, that would cause some huge problems.

No one wants to find out their friend has been lying since the beginning of the friendship.

I chose to be truthful and look where that got me 🥲

But seriously, I'm glad I didn't lie about my age.

In 87 days, I'll unlock my full Tumblr potential, and I will be unhinged, JUST YOU WAIT.

[onyxisnotuniqueenough]

ATTENTION ATTENTION (VERY FEW) CITIZENS OF ONYXCITY

THIS IS A CALL, FROM YOUR LOVELY MAYOR, TO MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD! MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD ! MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD!

basically tell me if like you're there. i'm getting tired of this bullshit. truly truly. every few months i make a post along these lines where i ask all my followers to interact so i know that i'm not talking to the void, and everytime i'm met with silence, it's reason more for me to post less and less. if you're somehow, by some miracle, someone who looks at my posts, you probably would have noticed how much the frequency of posts have lessened. and it's! honestly! because i feel completely alone on tumblr! i'm glad a recent post on my art account helped me to meet one or two really nice people, but that's all the human interaction i get on this website. and i'm tired of it.

i know i don't write less on here because i have less to say, but because i feel like i have less space to say it. my mind tells me constantly that committing to logging on every day is useless cause nobody sees anything of mine anyway. even during the phase where i'd try to write funny jokes and one-liners, or when i committed hard to a fuckin roleplay account, it still didn't do anything.

so here are all my cards. i am someone who's extremely excited to share their original stories and creative projects with the world, but only gets attention on fanart.

HOW can i make people interested in what I'M interested in? I don't want to draw fanart that much! I don't want to be an artist on social media who only does that!

that bullshit thing when people say "your excitement/enjoyment will show through and everyone will love it as much as you do! do what you like until it works!" is not fucking working!

does any artist here have advice for me? what the hell can i do to get myself out of this hole? is there another social media out there i can post my art to without being scared of ai? that is popular?

i don't want to make videos. i don't have the equipment, the privacy or the confidence for that. i am talking about ... well this.

my art acc : @onyxalsolikesart

ps : i know tumblr isn't about clout. i'm not about clout. i'm not trying to get famous. i just want to make friends, answer questions and talk about my characters, get feedback and MAYBE IN THE LONG RUN potentially have a few interested commission clients if ONE day i can afford a tablet and draw digitally.

[phoenixtakaramono]

Question, so how are things with the A prince and his baron given what we have seen of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva boss? Are you planning to continue it, rewritting it according to what we've seen in both shows or just its gonna stay like that? No pressure to answer and of course its your story after all so you get to decide what to do with it

Hullo, anon! I’m happy to answer any questions for any of my WIPs. 💞 Regarding A Prince and His Baron and its status:

Question, so how are things with the A prince and his baron given what we have seen of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva boss?

It’s still waiting its turn! Because I’m a multi-WIP writer across several fandoms, just so it’s fair to everyone who’s been patiently waiting for whichever fic it is from me, I’m responsibly going down the masterlist of story updates (which I’d pinned on my tumblr). The schedule was intended to be rotational, so I’m trying to stick to updating 1 chapter per story going down the list before circling back to the top. So unless I get hit by a strong burst of inspiration, P&B ch5 should be updated after The Untold Tale ch6. So keep an eye out for that! A key hint, the content on my tumblr blog & twitter usually reflects which fandom I’m working on that corresponds to the WIP currently being updated. So if I start posting/tweeting a lotta Hellaverse stuff, y’know I’m working on P&B. Once it’s P&B’s turn, I’ll be posting more chapter sneak peeks. ;)

I don’t remember if I ever tweeted it or posted a sneak peek here—it might’ve been buried underneath my threadfic updates for another fandom—but after watching Hazbin Hotel S1, I felt a lil inspired and broke my rule of usually hardcore immersing & pigeonholing myself to the fandom of whichever WIP I’m working on (which is currently Truce ch3). I sneakily wrote a bit of P&B ch5 based on what I’d seen and tweeted/posted a sneak peek of what I added to the upcoming P&B chapter. But in case my memory exists in delulu land, haha, here are some screenshots from the Google Doc itself 🤫:

This is during the time when I wrote a short Chaggie threadfic (tumblr / twitter) and broke out my ol’ tablet to draw a shippy Chaggie fanart as a watcher enthusiastically celebrating the show airing, haha. P&B might not be ready yet but this was my small way to show support. And y'all can thank the 2024 Hellaverse Collab artists project for getting me in the mood to make my next 900 followers celebration illustration involving Vox and Alastor (it's a bit special to me because it's my first time illustrating Alastor and, y'all don't know this, but I'd liked Alastor from the pilot ep, which was what led into getting into Helluva Boss and later to me creating P&B in the first place as a fan's small contribution, to show my support for the creator's landmark creative endeavor).

Are you planning to continue it, rewriting it according to what we've seen in both shows or just its gonna stay like that?

It's still being continued! And it is definitely going to stay as it is, ah. No rewrites! Fortunately we only have 4 chapters so far so I didn't have to change much to be honest, of the few things I'm willing to change.

I'd answered an Ask regarding this awhile back (you'd have to comb through my Tags Masterlist) but the tl;dr is: Given what I've seen thus far, I'm going to be taking inspirations from both shows and ignoring certain canon things (like the mystery about Lilith being gone and Eve possibly having impersonated her (I already wrote that Lilith helped write the royal invitation to Blitzø in P&B so…whelp, sorry, but I’m not changing what’s already written especially because there is a huge chunk of paragraphs solely dedicated to it) as well as Blitzø’s and Stolas’ childhood friends aspect, because that contradicts the entire driving force of the fish-out-of-water meet cute in my story where they meet in the prologue as complete strangers—and we'll see them fall in love with each other as the story proceeds despite the political machinations of Hell's upper crust society and the challenges awaiting them). It's the reason why I made A Prince and His Baron into an AU to be safe; this way, once something later revealed to be canon contradicts what's written in the story, it's an AU. So it's fine. Otherwise, and I'm being honest, I get demotivated to continue a fic if I face the herculean task of...like, having to change details across 15 chapters just so it's canon accurate. I don't have the time for that. For small changes though, like the pilot surname of "Magne" changing to Amazon Prime confirmed "Morningstar" surname, that's fine. It's just a matter of pressing Crtl+F and doesn't require a HUGE rewrite. :)

The way I want y'all to think, going into P&B, it's an Alternate Universe. If there are any references to canon, like all my WIPs that are AU in concept, those are lil canon Easter Eggs I sprinkle in for funsies. And anything not canon (like Stolas being a wee more debonair/ manipulative and politically savvy in my fic (Blitz's first impression), but behind that Stolas is still a bookish, sweet and dorky royal gentleman as Blitz will come to find...so that's a wee closer to the Stolas in canon), my veering away from canon is done on purpose to tell a story. So, y'all, don't come at me if something's not canon in A Prince and His Baron, haha. I can't read Viv's and HB writers' minds! The most I can do is try to keep up to date with the kernels the Spindelhorse team mention on Twitter, and keep up with both shows to see the direction they're going in (this way I can borrow canon characters instead of creating OCs and I can get a more accurate grasp on their personalities instead of guessing due to the lack of material at the time).

I'll be excited to be back and continue P&B once we get to its turn! Boy, do I miss that world. And, boy, do I have so many exciting things I want to share with y'all.

[calyaer]

...

Huh. That's weird.

Anyway I'm back!

To those of you just discovering me, hello :> I'm Calys, but you can just call me Cal. (Or Lissie, but most people use Cal nowadays.) My pronouns are he/him and I'm a queer idiot. :) (I've stopped using labels - worrying about what I am is too much work. I'm just me.)

To those of you who stuck around through my painfully long hiatus, thank you and welcome back :') I was going through some ~personal life issues~, but I missed being on Tumblr! So I'm here now.

Some of you who stuck around (for some reason) might remember my story, Adversity. Adversity is currently on hiatus - I still love the story, but I'm not confident enough in my writing skills to tackle such a huge project yet. I might still post about it from time to time, though! My current main project is Shattered Ice, a fantasy + mystery comic/webtoon following one of my favourite OCs to date (which is saying a lot btw) Kori! If all goes well, I'll have a release date by the end of August. (My drawing tablet is currently broken, so I have to wait until I get a new one… until then, I'll just be plotting it out.) I'll be working on a masterpost for the series shortly! :D I'll also be working on a few spurious short stories. Anyway, if I don't cut this post off here I'll end up rambling again! So thanks for reading! Feel free to jump in my ask box! Okay bye!

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

I have so many questions for the fanfic ask so strap in 😏 I really want to ask all of them but I should limit myself to like, 10.

12, 17, 18, 22, 26, 27, 29, 34, 36, and 77

Anyways I'm a little drunk so thank for answering these in advance and Ily 💙

(GAAAAH I HAD ANSWERED FOUR OF THE QUESTIONS ALREADY WHEN I SLIPPED ON MY GODDAMN TABLET AND CLOSED THE TAB AND I LOST ALL OF IT.)

Ziz, my drunken angel. I want to get drunk too, but I'm too tired. Now I have to copypaste all of these suckers for you instead.

12. Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them?

Mostly not. For longer fics or multichapters I might have some stuff jotted down just to remember to include it later (because I forget shit) but no, I don't really outline my fics.

17. Do you have a writing routine?

At the moment, I mostly work during down time at work. I have other things I'd rather do during my spare time, so in order to write anything at all - and I want to write, but not enough to use my spare time for it - it's going to be on company time. Front desk duty days are the best because we don't get many customers, I usually don't have anything pressing to work on while waiting for customers to show up, so I write smut. Perfect. It's a huge privilege, and I intent to enjoy it for as long as I can. So my routine is mostly "check if anyone's behind me, then open up my private email, and go to drafts, where I save my wips", haha!

18. Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

Um, yes and no? Because I don't allow for writing to take a lot of time, I don't really feel like doing research at the moment. But if I feel like the fic requires it, a bitch will definitely google some shit. The most research I did in this fandom was for What Spring Does To The Cherry Trees. I had absolutely no idea about what life on a Texas cattle ranch would be like. I expected there would be cows and Stetsons. So I did a fair bit of reading up on that, plus what the military looked like in the early 1990's. (Nothing like I needed for my OFC, so I still made things up. It's fanfic.)

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

AFTER. Omfg, after. Listen, I will have created the post on both Tumblr and Ao3 and be ready to hit that Post button, if it wasn't for the teensy tiny little detail that I LACK A GODDAMN TITLE. Titles are the worst. I very very rarely have a title from the start, or at least one that sticks with me throughout the process, and makes it until the end. I usually go for song lyrics (simple but somewhat easy), or something descriptive and boring (um, "The Artist and the Builder", anyone? Scoff!).

26. What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

The title. And the sex scenes. Ugh.

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

I feel like I write relationships well. I write female characters well, I like them independent and headstrong, not too sentimental or dependent. I like writing the day-to-day of relationships, the kind of boring stuff, the banter. Two people who rib the bejesus out of each other but will never be mean to each other and will always have each other's backs and also have phenomenal sex. Also she doesn't cook.

29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

I am proud of finishing fics that I've worked on for months or even a year. I'm proud of not compromising my ideas, even when I suspect that taking the story another way would give me more notes. And I am so, so proud of my chubby!reader x Frankie series. The comments I got on those fics still make me tear up. I am so humbled that I could give readers the experience of really seeing themselves in that reader insert. I honestly never thought it would be so huge, that people would actually see themselves in it, but they did, and they told me, and I am just. Wow.

34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

I did a lil day trip with my two doctor friends yesterday, and they talked about different medical professionals/originals that they met during their internship. And I listened, and told them: "You know that one guy is ending up in a fic, right?" They laughed, and said "Go right ahead, he deserves to be in a one!" So I do pick up stuff from around me, and from my own life. But most of it is make-believe because hahaha I do not have a Frankie of my own and I do nothing interesting with my life honestly :')

36. What fic are you proudest of?

As already mentioned, the Forever Starts With You series. But also What Spring Does To The Cherry Trees. And Jay and Frankie. Heck, I'm proud of almost all of my fics! Some are written with a lot of integrity, some I'm just proud of finishing, some have resonated so beautifully with the readers. Don't make me choose.

77. Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

I am a creative person. I've always written stuff. Fanfic in "easy" in the sense that you are served a world and characters that people already know, so you don't have to spend time setting all of that up. It's also a communal experience, something that brings people together. And of course I love the responses! I'd be lying if I said I did this for myself: if I did, I wouldn't be posting. I post my fics to share the, and I love it when people tell me I did good, yes, but mostly I love it when I make people feel something. Maybe I made them laugh, or cry, or horny (seriously, people: you have got to be more open about that! TELL ME MY SMUT MADE YOU MASTURBATE, I WILL BE ALL HEART EYES!). Maybe they recognized themselves in the fic, felt seen, felt appreciated. That's the good stuff. That's the reason I write. I'll continue to post stuff for as long as I have stories to tell but if I'm completely honest: I wouldn't bother anymore if I didn't get comments. This is fandom, it's supposed to be a community with interaction.

[darckcarnival]

Get To Know The Mun!

> BASICS! ♡

NAME: Spoop, Splat, D, Darck (peeps usually call my my main muses names except Spoop, I am the spoopiest.)

PRONOUNS: Any! I merely exist.

ZODIAC SIGN: Sagittarius/Capricorn

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single but married to food.

> THREE FACTS! ♡

Have been writing since the 90's when I was a wee child. Did silly little roleplaying on mIRC, on some forums, and deviant art back in the day there after. Then became a fanfic writer for a while, followed by poems which I was quite good at back in the day. Then began making lyrics- figured nah, not for me. And flipped full circle back into roleplaying once more with some drabbles and maybe a one shot fic here and there. Have been writing ever since! So I have a LOT of history under my belt. And many of my muses have the same type of dedication and time behind them. Gotta put as much love into your character and writing, as if they were your own family. Make them feel alive.

Most art I do is either writing, 3D model modification items, or just with a mouse and keyboard art. I have been practicing more with a gifted tablet and pen, which has allowed me to do more detailed and serious mod work, such as mods for RE4 classic! But I am much better at texture, 3D, or coloring and shading. But heres the fun fact: i learned all my 3D and texture work skills through Second Life before anything else. And it's actually, funny enough, helped me bring muses to life as well as follow up on how to mod other games and go hog wild.

Been struck by lightning twice, fell down two different cliffs, hit by a semi truck, shot with a carbon arrow in the chest, stabbed, shot by bullet, and so on- and yet here I stand. Most of these events were completely accidental as well, and I walked away from. Honestly? I'm just a walking glitch in the matrix of the world, considering I also glitch every single god damn game I touch. THIS IS NOT A JOKE, NO MATTER HOW NEW IT IS, I BREAK IT.

> EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED: AIM, Yahoo Messenger, DA chat, so many FORUM's back in the day. Skype, Discord, Tumblr.

PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES: Geez, I can roll with just about anything. Plotting? Hell yeah count me in! Plots may not always follow the idea one hundred percent, but it absolutely makes for longer events and threads easily. Winging it? I do that all the damn time and can create so many unexpected events, as well as sudden character development. Twists and turns that just wing a rough idea into something wild. As for Memes and asks? Oh those can still form some really good interactions, character developments or knowledge acquiring moments. Sometimes these are one offs or long drabbles- but they can form into something longer and more serious. However, while I am down for all of the above-- I also have bad ADHD and writing can be hard, so it could take a while.

> MUSE PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER: I can write just about any gender character, manage things in between or none. However I am more comfortable with female centric style muses. And yet, you put large men in my hands, and watch them go hog fucking wild. And don't even get be started on Robots or Monsters.

MULTI OR SINGLE: I have done both, but usually prefer single muse blogs. And yet I absolutely love my megaman multimuse to death! All my robot children and heathens there, so much work in my own verse there. So many thoughts. But multimuse blogs can still be difficult to keep organized with so much going on in the braincell, and with life being as it is, need to take breaks from it.

LEAST FAVOURITE FACECLAIM(S): Not sure what this means for least favorite here, does it mean people, or genre? I really don't mind one way or another. Especially when it comes to OC's, it's hard to find anyone who fits just right for people. And honestly I do not mind one way or another for people. If it fits someones muse, that's fine by me.

> FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡

FLUFF: THE GOOD SHIT HELL YEAH. I'm down for fluff so long as it isn't like... Hollow and forced. Fluff can be used as a great comfort option,. be it platonic, familial, friendly, or even romantic. Fluff can be used in so very many ways, and it's always an option withy me. But this can also turn into angst easily with my cursed hands, you have been warned. As well as comedic timing, since Darck needs to make a laugh to make herself comfortable. Darck has... problems.

ANGST: My bread and butter this one, much to the dismay of many of my friends who write with me. The muse on this blog is made of angst and pain and terrible events that have formed her into who she is. Angst can become violence, woe, heavy conversation, as well as venting- it's such a key part of development. There is a saying I quite enjoy: Muses are like geodes. Shiny, pretty, and in order to see what they are really made of, you must break them. I do admit however that I have a limit of how far I can go to a degree, with real life being a thing, but honestly? It takes a whole fucking lot to get there. And also maybe write angst too much and tragedy. Give this muse some better days.

SMUT: As much as I have enjoyed smut in the past, I haven't written such in a very long time, and am very careful of whom I write such with. Turns out I really good at smut according to others. And hey fun fact: People used to straight up pay me to write them smut of their characters and others of their choice. Haven't had that going in years but, it was a thing. However these days, writing smut with my muses needs to be more than just the event. It can be an opening for vulnerability, letting someone get close enough and trust them enough, that no one else really gets. Quiet and heavy conversations, the emotions involved. But if I ever do write it again, both my self and my partner need to be comfortable with writing such a thing. However if I ever did smut in a private drabble or fanfic, then all bets are off, because that's different. But far more rare.

Tagged by: @valour-bound

Tagging: You see this? IM TAGGING YOU. Do it.

[mlprootrot]

https://www.tumblr.com/mlprootrot/774052286038212608/hey-it-feels-like-its-been-a-while-since-you?source=share

Decides to show my face this time cause why not...still I hope classes go well for one of you and the wedding goes amazingly for the other! Can't wait to see more story about your au...like can't wait to learn more about it, see how the story progresses, and so on! Always thought your artstyle for the au was always super neat and brought it to life well and appreciate ya both showing actual pages and typing out what the pages of medical journals and stuff says so it's easier to read lol!

(BTW jk, I can wait! I know classes can be busy and weddings are a really big deal...and on top of that, stories and art take time so take your time, breaks are important, have a good time and I send ya both good wishes!)

Well hi! Now that I know who ya are, I can give you a follow! 🩷

I wanted to show my other half, Cas, what you said so i could include her response here, and here it is:

she does the bulk of the art. She will literally crank out these fully detailed AMAZING pieces in like...a day. It's utterly unreal to see her work and I fully credit her with helping me rediscover my love of drawing again. she's a fucking ROCKSTAR. I will 100% wax poetic about her ALL DAY.

For now, the only piece I've done is the oil pastel mouth cross section. but in the beginning, I didn't have access to any of my supplies and hadn't gotten my tablet yet, so I was in charge of the majority of the writing and maintaining the social media stuff. In addition, I also helped provide photo references, since I visit a lot of botanical gardens and collect medical illustration books. now that we can touch on the au again and we both have picked up new skills, I'm really excited to revisit our original ideas and see how we can rework them. so taking a break ended up being a really good thing for the project. (also I can contribute more to the artwork now lol).

Another thing that ended up being a good thing was deciding to move from tiktok to tumblr. Here, we don't have to worry about the algorithm or getting shadowbanned or making sure we're storyboarding scenes juuuuuust right to not get flagged. There was a lot of stuff we had to tone down. One of the Rarity entries actually got flagged on tiktok, and after that the algo stopped promoting us as much. Here, we have more freedom to explore the scenes, body horror, and the darker parts of the worldbuilding. There are two or three pieces of audio that we have saved for future animations, though. In particular is one that I want to use for Celestia waaaay in the future.

But yeah omg we're so glad you're into the idea, and we hope it lives up to your expectations holy shit 🩷

[transzodiacdogmom]

My drawing tablet is on the fritz right as I was writing for my comic which is my passion project, so I don't want to forget what I was writing so I just wrote it all here. it's missing context cause it's taken from late in the story of my comic/manga series. Feel free to ignore this, read it or whatever. I'm not good at actually writing, writing. I'm much more visual and whatnot, which is why I'm trying to make it a manga, but again, I didn't want my work to go to waste so I just wrote it here. No one will read it anyways. Been going through a lot the past few days and haven't slept in two days but it's whatever, y'know. Also a good person told me once I need to try and put my stuff out into the world, so that's me doing that, even though no one cares and whatnot and I'm just a speck in the vastness of tumblr.

==========================

"4,383 Days." She spoke, her voice calm as her face was lit by a nearby street-light, emitting a humming noise, barely heard with the sound of cars passing by.

"What?" He asked, looking confused at her.

"4,383 Days. That's Thirteen-years." She added, looking at the one that was beside her, who still was very confused by what she meant. "Yeah, I have no idea what you're going on about." He responded.

These two were unalike from one another, aside from the sole-fact that they lost something dear to them, something they'd never be able to get back regardless how hard they tried, but with their own opposite views on their situations. Memories are the core part of Life, most say they define people, their past and future alike, but the woman here, she thought differently.

A Sheep, stood at 5ft 12in at height, dressed in a purple jacket with a barrage of odd lettering and symbols on it. Over the sleeves lined with question-marks slithering down to the cuffs, and a few stitches. At the waist of the jacket, the same symbols repeated across, almost in a dancing manner, each symbol inverse of the other. It was unlike any jacket anyone has ever seen before, really. She had made it herself, to be in align with her goals, her convictions. Across her wool of hair on her head lie a headband with one more question-mark ontop of it, coated in a pink coloring, catching the eyes of anyone that passed by. It had to be made in a specific way to accommodate for her owns as well. Her eyes crimson, circles underneath. They were almost sunken, as if something lied beneath them, something dead that died quite some time ago. She was likely almost in her early twenties.

Across her, lied a wolf, standing himself at 5'10, shorter than the person he found himself with. His hair dark red, like embers of a fire, and his eyes blue like the sea that stretched out across the beaches of where he woke up, and had started his new life. He donned a jacket, colored with a violent violet, and black t-shirt underneath, with a abstract structure on the front, one that if looked at too long would make your head dizzy and spin. He had a more simplistic taste in his fashion than the other, though at least they both wore just any run-of-the-mill jeans. He couldn't be sure how old he was, as for he couldn't remember his own birthday...He couldn't remember anything, but was likely still around Seven-teen years of age.

Neya, the woman Sheep, stood there, hands in her pockets as she gazed out into the city lights, a field of color that spread darkness thin the deeper and closer those lights became. "Thirteen-Years. Wouldn't you say that's a long time?" She had asked him, head turning, her eyes began to pierce into his own, a clash it felt like. As if putting two magnets next to each other, doing their best to push away.

The boy shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms and leaned against a wall behind him. It be clear to anyone that he was met with his own reservations about Neya. "Yeah, I guess so. It's a decade and three years. I don't understand what this has to do with anything though." He answered, his voice a little higher than most for his age, with a feminine touch to it as well, and as gentle as ever.

She chuckled a little, closing her eyes and smiling softly. "If you and I were friends for that long, what would you think?" Her eyes opened again, and that clashing from earlier returned.

The boy didn't speak a word, and it was difficult to tell if he was humoring her question or ignoring it, but soon his voice would break through a brief silence with his own answer. "Well, For starters." He began. "I don't think we'd ever be 'Friends' so-to-speak. But, if by some miracle, we were, and it was for that long? I'd say that it was likely meant to be?...I guess? I don't know." His shoulders shrugged once more.

"Humor me some more, Itsuki. Do you think we'd ever fall apart?"

Once more, the boy, now known as Itsuki, had to think some more, though was a bit confused and shocked by her adding to her question. It wasn't something he thought about, losing people, friends, though now that he was. The thought terrified him. "For thirteen-years, I hope we wouldn't. I mean..." He paused, almost as if he was choking on his own voice for a moment, unable to get his words out, till he finally did. "That's a long time to be friends that...I feel like after that mark...You'd...We'd...Be more than friends?..." He finished, only to then realize what he said, getting defensive quickly as his face began to glow bright red with blush. "Not in a romantic sense. But, at that point you'd practically be family with whoever your friends with."

All Neya could do was laugh at how strung up he got on his words for a moment, clearly not feeling anything in regards to that 'more than friends.' comment he mentioned.

Itsuki shook his head, clearing his head of those thoughts, feeling embarrassed he misspoke, though hoped the Sheep didn't misconstrue what he was saying. "Why are you asking this, exactly?"

Her laughing ceased, almost immediately after he had spoke, a sudden shift in gears in her mind. To Itsuki, seeing someone shift so...Easily, and quickly, it was a little creepy.

"You'd be more than friends. I agree. You'd be family at that point. Many years of friendship like that, consistent? You and whoever friend this would be, you'd face everything together. You'd see each others flaws and no matter what, you'd love one another, wouldn't you? Despite everything?"

A look of confusion was formed on the wolf's face. It was always a riddle, or a weird way of phrasing words together. Neya was always acting unlike anyone else he'd ever met. She was unpredictable, with her words, actions, and thoughts. Luckily, she was also someone who kept to her word, and she had only asked him here to talk to one another, so while Itsuki did get a bit defensive, standing straight from that wall he was leaning on prior, and arms at his sides now, he knew nothing would likely happen...but still, she was unpredictable.

He breathed in, then exhaled sharply. "You could call it family," Itsuki began. "Though something like that, I feel, would go past beyond labels..."

That was something Neya didn't think of, that this kind of thing couldn't be labelled, making her smile more, possibly in part to hearing Itsuki say something smart for once. She didn't think him dumb or anything, but Neya did have a bit of a superiority complex over everyone else.

Suddenly, Neya walked over and trapped Itsuki against the wall, arms extended out, trapping him between them as that crimson mixed with his blue. It, to no ones surprise, startled him, even gasping from fear, though he tried to remain calm. This was just to talk.

"It goes beyond labels. It's stronger than anything else in the world, right? To those two people?...Now what happens if you took it away? All those years, thrown away over one mistake, what happens then?" Suddenly she got this crazed look in her eyes, and a sinister smile formed at him, as if she was in some way enjoying this, like it was fun for her to think about these things.

He gulped, sweat already beginning to trickle down his forehead. "I...I don't know." He answered. He honestly didn't, he's never been in that situation before, and he couldn't even imagine being in it.

Neya pushed her face closer to his, her hair almost tickling at his ears. "Imagine if you and Ri-Et go on, you're friends till you're thiry-something, then over one mistake, he tells you he moved on from you. How would you feel?" Bringing Ri-Et into the equation was something that really unsettled Itsuki. He was his best friend, he was the one who found him after he woke up on that beach that day. When he didn't know anything, he didn't know anyone. Ri-Et was there. He even gave Itsuki his name, when he couldn't remember it. Gave him a home, everything. Ri-Et was integral to Itsuki, and he to Ri-Et.

"I...Would you shut up? I don't want to even think about that--" Itsuki was interrupted, Neya grabbing at his neck now and holding hem there, that look of enjoyment on her face turning to one of displeasure and disappointment, seemingly not liking Itsuki's response.

"How. Would. You. Feel?" She reiterated those four words, slowly, piercing Itsuki's eyes with her own, wanting a direct answer this time, and not some defensive comment telling her to shut up or whatever. Neya was someone you didn't want to tell shut up to, and yet Itsuki would always oppose her, as she was his foil.

He gulped again, this time it was harder feeling those fingers gripping his throat, tightly, squeezing, but not necessarily choking him; He could still breathe, but not easily. "I...I'd be broken without...him," Itsuki said. "I don't think I could live...without him. He's always been around for me. But he'd...he'd never...He'd never leave."

"But what if he did? What if he said that the found others that impacted him more than you ever did? That his love for you was gone. What then? Kill yourself? Respect his wishes? What would you do? What would you do, Itsuki?."

He struggled in her grasp, trying to break free but Neya was stronger than most. He wasn't even scared of what Neya was doing, Itsuki knew he'd likely be safe from her no matter what she did given his ability, the one he couldn't control. The thing that scared him, however, was what she was saying.

The thought of losing someone he loved closely. Leaving him, moving on from him. The idea that someone he cares for, could just vanish in a instant, as if they were never there in the first place.

It terrified him. Enough so tears were beginning to form at his eyes.

"Your loved ones always will leave you. The people you want to stay connected with will leave you. And over what? A mistake they made that they beg they could fix?" Where was this coming from? It was beginning to sound like this was more personal to Neya, than just a random nightly thought whilst staring at the stars in the sky. "No second chances? Just immediately gone. You'd be replaced. You. People bring certain qualities to themselves that makes them unique? What drivel." Neya finally loosened up, stepping back from Itsuki with her head hung over, looking at her feet and the ground below her. "You can be replaced, no matter what. Even after thirteen-years. But I guess it just makes sense, right?"

Another question, as Itsuki began to rub where she had held him earlier, catching his breath while also not trying to cry at the thought of losing his best friend. "The hell are you talking about, Neya?"

She looked at him again, another wicked smile on her face. "Thirteen is the unluckiest number. I just knew this perfect couple, once, had been friends for that long, and one made one simple mistake and the other...cut it off. You think I'm evil, Itsuki?"

Well, yes, he thought as much. She was known for mashing screwdrivers into people's skulls, she was evil especially with what she wanted for the whole world. But he was curious, she was challenging his thoughts and preconceived notions about her, something she did often, but, each time Itsuki was curious to hear what she thought was true evil, if she wasn't herself.

"I'm not evil. Say what you will about me, and how I view memories and whatnot, but true evil...Are those kind of people. The people who will destroy a unique enough bond that was strong for thirteen-years, and moving on without a care of the fallout for the other. The couple I mentioned? After the one who cut ties left, the other was distraught, broken. She was so hurt that she was lost for the rest of her life, which wasn't at all long. She never made it to thirty." Neya explained all of this to Itsuki, in a fashion he'd not heard before. As much as Itsuki wishes Neya would leave his life, she always kept by him so he was beginning to know her quite well, and knew how she talked, and acted but here?...This was different. Neya's voice sounded angrier than it ever had before, that she was physically upset by this couple that she saw, her body even shaking and her fists instinctively clenching, teeth gritting and grinding against each other. "This poor girl who truly loved someone, who wanted to change, being left to rot by someone because they found someone else. Saying the relationship was damaged and unfixable...Not even considering the thought of trying to start a different one with her, not even giving her the chance to try and change. That's true evil. Poor girl ended her life, hairdryer in the bathtub, really sad. Do you think the other went to her funeral?" She asked, turning her head to Itsuki, her face just as angry as her voice.

Itsuki didn't say a word.

"They didn't even know. How could they? They cut all communication. Over one simple mistake..." Neya sighed, trying to calm herself down. "Looking into every other dimension I could. Every one I could find that was exactly like this one, both of them lived. Together. Giving her a second chance saved her, saved their relationship. But that's...only in other dimensions. And not the Prime one." Neya began walking towards the road, cars still whirring past, oblivious to the two civilians. "I'm sorry I said those things about you and your idiot friend Ri-Et, but this whole thing has been bothering me and I needed an outsiders perspective on it. Itsuki, if you manage to somehow thwart my plans entirely, and get to live a nice life with your daffy-pals." Well that was one word to describe them. "Promise me that you'll hold on to them. See past their flaws, give them the chances to change, force them if you have to. Otherwise, you'll be just as evil as the other. Which is more evil than you think that I am." Neya never thought what she was doing was evil, she never believed herself to be evil, she always thought she was doing the best thing for the world...but she had a real messed up away of doing it.

Suddenly, without warning, Neya jumped right into traffic, causing Itsuki's heart to sink as a car came right in time to impact with her, and yet, Neya wasn't there in the blink of an eye.

The car swerved, causing a pile up, drivers hopping out their windows, yelling obscenities at each other. She likely dived into another dimension, Neya couldn't help but be dramatic with it all.

And then, there was only Itsuki, left by himself on the sidewalk, left with the thoughts that Neya gave him. The thoughts of Friendship, abandonment, and how just not giving the chance to someone to fix things could make everything worse. His heart sank as he thought about, imagining himself in that position. His connections to his friends were the most important thing to him, and he'd never want to lose them...but what if he couldn't hold on? What if he lost them? Ri-Et, Lilac, and Dayta...These people that he loved and called his own family even, even if one of them disappeared...Itsuki would be lost just as the girl Neya told him about.

Thirteen-Years. Feelings can't fade after that long. It's impossible. Right?...What was one to do? How could they fix that?...It was easy to become so lost by one simple mishap.