#Ground rules

[icallhimjoey]

supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!

we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K

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Only Have Eyes For You

(read Ground Rules here)

Joe has yet to stop staring at her.

It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.

New.

“Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”

It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.

It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.

He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.

Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.   

He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.

Her perfect little face.

Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.

Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.

The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.

It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.

Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.

“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.

“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”

“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.

“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.

“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.

“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.

“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”

It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.

Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.

Which actually made a lot of sense to you.

It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.

Hence why it had become a running joke.

One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.

When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.

Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”

“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.

“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.

“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”

“You think so?”

“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”

That had made you burst into actual sobs.

The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.

You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.

Or how tired he felt.

He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.

“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.” 

And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.

There’s a baby next to your bed.

The one he watched you gave birth to.

Your baby.

His baby.

He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.

Life is ridiculous.

He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.

When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.

He freezes.

Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.

After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.

Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.

He’d listened.

Knew better than to tell you no.

But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.

You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?

Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.

But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.

He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.

“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”

“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.

“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.

With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”

“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”

“I’ll go get someone.”

“Please.”

Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.

“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”

The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.

It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.

Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.

He can’t get over how you’ve made this.

Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.

The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.

Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”

Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.

“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.

You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.

He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”

You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.

“Six weeks before sex, right?”

You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”

“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.

Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.

You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.

God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.

You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.

“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”

You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.

You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.

Your baby.

You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.

You can both just watch her.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”

The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.

You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.

“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.

“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.

“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”

“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.

“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.

“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.

Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.

After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.

His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.

It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.

And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.

Finds he can’t stop staring.

“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.

“I’ll keep an eye.”

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The Taglisted

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@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

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@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[yourlocalxiaosimp]

Due to recent events, I feel like now would be a good time to set a few boundaries.

General boundaries

- no asks for money/go fund me asks. I don’t currently have the ability to do so and they make me uncomfortable

- Requesting drawings of ocs is fine

- I will not draw any irl people, but you can request a persona (a you-adjacent character)

- Please don’t send any chain asks. They feel a bit pressuring

- No assholery (homophobia, transphobia, aphobia, racism, sexism, etc.) will be tolerated. You will be blocked.

^this does not include making fun of assholes cuz that’s funny

- Asks about my ocs are very welcome, and in fact encouraged

- venting is a-okay, sometimes you just gotta tell someone :)

- this isn’t exactly a boundary, but please bear with me if it takes a while for me to understand what you’re asking me

- NO NSFW! Swearing and fictional blood is fine but besides that GET OUTTA HERE

Apparently I need to add a direct message section to this

-everything mentioned above

-I would prefer it if we’d have interacted at least a bit before you direct message me

-I don’t mean to like an asshole, but please don’t ask me for help with extreme issues. I’m barely an adult; I cannot help you.

-^this doesn’t mean you can’t ask me for advice. Do know that I’m not the most skilled in advice giving

Uhm. New section! IF I HAVE NEVER TALKED TO YOU DON’T TAG ME IN SHIT. IT’S CONFUSING, SLIGHTLY WEIRD, AND MAKES ME VERY UNCOMFORTABLE. (at least interact with one of my posts first)

This post will be added onto as I figure what I am and am not comfortable with.

[kr1s-png]

Get to know my page!

Disclaimers!!

Some of my content here may include:

Full shots of some drawings posted on Tiktok

Yapping sessions

Mini comics and headcanons

Doodles of current hyperfixations

🚫🚫PROSHIPPERS AND MINORS (15 AND LOWER) DNI🚫🚫

Do's for the comment section

Silly comments and simping is allowed, I giggle at the stuff you guys come up with (of course, try to keep it in tone)

RPing characters!

Dont's for the comment section

Doing any of these will have you blocked permanently

Beefing and hating (Even if it's between each other)

Controversial opinions (within the lines of homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, racism, sexism, etc)

Weird comments (There are various levels of unhinge, keep it at a funny level)

Inbox Rules!

Questions about my canon and design decisions are allowed!

Personal questions won't be answered, sorry.

In conclusion, be nice <3

[fankitcanuwo]

just so we're clear, I want people to understand that if they try to interact or ask me any questions about themes or topics that I have stated I do not appreciate (such as Boss X Eugene) in any hostile or persistent way, I will not respond and most likely will delete your comment and/or ask.

If you're simply asking a question I will give an explanation and try to sort things out peacefully.

Thank you all for understanding ❤️

[ask-cyantist]

(do u have any ground rules, other than the obvious like don't be a jerk? ie. no roleplaying unless ur a mutual, topics to avoid, etc?

Love ur art!)

[Mod: ....I absolutely should have established that, you're so right. Thank you for reminding me!! And awwww ;u; I'm glad you enjoy it!! It's a great way for me to unwind and do some quick art for fun after long work days <3

Without further ado, here are my ground rules under the readmore!!]

[I will be pinning this post so people can see the rules whenever! ^^]

[funeral-twins]

I think I’d like to make some ground rules since I’m trying to run this account.

First of all, and of course, some ground rules.

This is a safe space for LGBTQ and POC individuals.

I WILL NOT tolerate pro shipping, TERFS, pedos, zoophiles, racists, and nsfw accts. Those are the rules. Don’t follow them? Get blocked

This is an art account and you are free to reblog and draw my oc’s, but please do not steal or trace. You are free to reference, but don’t trace.

Please be smart on my profile. Be respectful, be kind, and be patient.

Alright! Now for some personal stuff.

My name is Nyarlath or Funeral, doesn’t matter.

I like posting my silly ocs, and occasional art of other franchises.

Speaking of franchises, here are some listed ones: Villianous (a huge fan), Gravity Falls, Wreak it Ralph, Hannibal, Re-Animator, Malevolent, Midnight Mass, Courage The Cowardly Dog, and DnD.

Oh and also music! I LOVE Gojira! I’m a huge fan. And also That Handsome Devil and Tally Hall

I am also a trans man (ftm)! I go by he/him pronouns and I am Pansexual (male and nb leaning). 😁

[figleythesimp]

RULES

Welcome to my blog! Howdy. I want to write about COD (Court of Darkness) from now on, so this blog is dedicated to it. At the moment, I will be a beginner writer and will gladly take requests to write for the consorts of COD. Just give me a scenario and I may or may not write it. There are limitations on what I will and will not write. For now, I will only be writing requests about Lou until I'm more comfortable writing the other characters.

I go by He/Him pronouns. And yes my MC will always be gender neutral unless the ask is for a specific gender.

So far I've only read Lou(BK 1). (Look I'm not a veteran player but it makes me happy. I must write about it.) Planning on reading Lance or Lynt next. Just need to get his mischief ending and then I'm going to read other consort paths.

Please comment on my post, whenever I do eventually post. I need validation, or a person to talk to. Or just say haha this writing is "kinda shitty but it's funny lol". I'm very lonely. Maybe this is why I simp for the funky little evil man.

Will Write:

Basically anything that's not in the Will not Write Section.

X Reader (That's what this blog will mainly be. Especially since the game is a literal dating game-)

Character x Character (Depends on what the ship will be. Again only Court of Darkness characters.)

Dark themes (Depends on how dark.)

Angst of all kinds.

Character Death

Morally wrong (Depends.)

Will NOT Write:

Yandere (Slight/mild possessive nature is fine.)

NSFW

Fight scenes. (I can't write combat I'm sorry-)

Extreme gore

Illegal shit (illegal doesn't look like a word anymore help.)

I have the right to deny your requests if I'm uncomfortable with the scenario. I am also only human and if I don't get around to making yours then I'm sorry. But life happens and shit.

[strayheartless]

Hi. Little bit of a tone shift from me, but I need to set these rules now or else someone’s gunna get hurt or badly triggered. And I’ve done the math, It will be me.

So, as much as I didn’t want to do this, I have to set some hard rules surrounding my ask box. Namely what you guys can and can’t send me. Usually I am all for people using their imagination but this morning I opened my inbox to something that hit WAY to close to a certain topic and it’s not okay. I’m not playing the name game but just be assured I’ve run it past certain people who have assured me I’m not in the wrong for this one.

So here’s the ask rules:

Please do not send me major triggering topics. Non con of any kind is a hard no for me when writing or reading for various very personal reasons and I NEED you all to respect that.

Dead dove do not eat will be deleted. I don’t feel like I have to explain why.

Cannibalism. Again not explaining that. Don’t send it please.

Kink. I’m not that kind of blog. I don’t hate it but I don’t write it. If you send it to me you won’t be answered.

Please keep it PG-13. Not because I think tumblr should be a PG-13 place, but because I personally don’t want to write it.

This one I can’t believe I’m having to highlight. Underage content. NO! Now, this one is not only common sense it is also DEEPLY and very PERSONALLY triggering to receive. Don’t. There’s a reason I have a hard age-up policy on ships. And there’s a reason I don’t interact with underage tumblrs. STOP IT. I want to be nice to everyone who messages but please, for the love of all that is good and holy, Not that.

Lastly, body horror. Now this one has some grey area because it’s pretty difficult to avoid in the FF7 fandom, but what I mean is hard line body horror. It doesn’t matter if you give me the triggers I’m still not gunna answer it. The cut off point is the typical implied stuff that comes with the territory of the fandom.

I will always tag things as best I can. I am very aware of triggering people and if there’s ever something you want me to be more careful of, just shoot me a message. This is a two way street here. But please respect these hard line no’s. For the sake of my own mental and emotional well-being I CANNOT keep receiving these.

[thehugwizard]

Alrighty, so banned topics, anyone who asks about this stuff is gonna have their ask deleted, nothing concerning super personal stuff i.e. living situation related stuff, also job stuff that digs too deep, anything beyond "how's work going?" Or like stuff involving the plants themselves is off limits too, my patience, which is basically near unlimited, is starting to wear thin, and I don't wanna snap at anyone, remember when you start digging like that it starts becoming a parasocial relationship, which isn't very healthy, when I want to talk about the going ons of my life, I will Initiate but don't come into my ask box and delve deeper then surface level and unsolicited advice beyond very minor stuff is generally unwelcome, please respect that and stop coming into my asks and passing judgement and questioning stuff that's been decided by my family

[icallhimjoey]

Could we do a prequel of “ground rules” like what really happened that night..

someone requested this nearly a whole year ago, i found it whilst trying to clean up my inbox and, okay so FINE, the girlies want smut ???? they can GET it, enjoy (fiy: this can totally be read on its own w/o needing to be aware of what ground rules is even about) (cw: 18+ smut) Wordcount: 4.9K

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Inside Out & Outside In

(read Ground Rules here)

Ghosted.

You’d seen this guy three times, had talked to each other for over a month.

Ghosted.

Three lovely dates. Were absolutely planning on taking it there tonight. Had shaved your whole body, were wearing matching underwear which never fucking happened, were lotioned and potioned and ready. Smelled fucking amazing.

Only to be fucking ghosted.

He said he’d meet you at a certain restaurant you’d really wanted to go to, and then… just didn’t show. Calls went unanswered until they got declined. Blocked? Maybe. But why? For what? Weren't you unbelievably hot, and nice, and kind, and smart, and cute, et cetera, et cetera?

After waiting for way longer than you should’ve, you texted a friend. Asked if they were still having people over that night and if it was okay if you stopped by too – you’d turned down the invite earlier, because you had a hot date, obviously.

“yes please come! everyone’s here” got followed by a more concerned, “everything ok?”

No, not really, but maybe after another drink you would be.

You walked into your friend’s flat and were welcomed by about fifteen people shouting loud heys and hellos, all upbeat and happy and cheery.

Joe took one look and saw you were definitely not feeling all upbeat or happy or cheery, and went to fetch you a drink whilst you explained to the friend you’d texted that he just… he didn’t show up.

“What the fuck? He just… he just bailed on you? Did you call? Or text?”

“I did, but–”

“Weren’t you seeing him for a little while already?” someone else chimed in, and you realized that your friend must’ve informed everyone else. Or, at least, some people. Not that this was a huge party – just, a get-together, a gathering. Just some people over in her flat, drinks and snacks and loud laughter with some background music going. Like a night at the pub, but cheaper, and open ‘til later.

“No they went on– you went on a couple dates, right? My God, and to then just…”

“Did you get stood up?”

“Yea, I–”

“Hey, come on,” Joe interrupted, holding up a drink for you but nodding his head towards the balcony. Get you out of this overwhelming bombarding of questions. You didn’t need telling twice.

Outside, you leant on the banister with Joe next to you and just took quiet sips of your drinks in silence for a second. Joe rolled a cigarette and didn’t really say anything. Didn’t ask anything. Not until you sniffed loudly and he saw you were trying your best to blink tears away, to suck the excess water that was starting to pool there back into your tear ducts somehow.

“Hey, he’s an idiot. Proper dickhead.”

You let a wet laugh escape you and nodded. “Yea, he is.”

“How long did you wait around for?”

You winced, annoyed and disappointed with yourself for how long you sat in that restaurant by yourself.

“Too long,” but then you immediately defended, “But you know, I didn’t want to assume the worst. What if something happened? What if there was a good reason for– maybe he was just running late, you know? People run late sometimes for valid reasons, don't they?”

Joe nodded, lighting his cigarette and filling his lungs with smoke before he blew it out to the side, away from you. Considerate.

“You’re too kind for this world, you know?”

You grimaced, and Joe went, “No, that’s a good thing! We need more people like that. Like you.”

“Yea. Well. Thanks, I guess...”

You didn’t mean it, thought it just made your life unnecessarily and unfairly difficult, but Joe wasn’t one to press it any further.

Another silence fell where you listened to the noises coming from inside. Someone knocked over a glass which caused commotion and you could hear the beat, the soft bass, of whatever song was playing.

You drank, and Joe smoked in between sips and you both looked down at the street. A car was trying to parallel park and failing miserably at it. The silence and lack of attention on you was just what you needed to open up.

“I was really starting to fancy him,”

“Yea? Already?”

“Wouldn’t have gone to see him again if I didn’t,”

“Makes sense,” Joe tapped some ashes over the banister, “That’s actually smart… also makes this extra shit.”

Yea, it did.

“I think… maybe I’m just, I think I’m just a bad judge of character, because I don’t–” you stopped because your throat did something funny. You had to cough to mask the sob that got stuck in there and tried to hide your wet eyes as you turned away from Joe.

But Joe saw.

Joe knew.

“Darlin’,” Joe tossed his cigarette and took hold of you by a shoulder. Made you turn back to make eye-contact.

Yea, you were definitely crying.

“Come here.”

You got pulled into a hug and decided that, yea, fuck it, you were totally allowed to cry actually. A shitty thing had happened and it was absolutely fine to be sad about that. It didn’t exactly help that whilst you waited at the restaurant, you’d downed two fat glasses of wine already and were now halfway through a beer, but... Joe was there and he was nice, and friendly, and was warm and hugged you tight, and didn’t ask invasive questions, and, wasn’t that somehow just exactly what you needed?

You stood like that for a while, just in Joe’s tender embrace in the cold air, blinking slow tears down your face every now and then.

A knock on the window made you want to turn, to pull away from Joe to see who that was and why they wanted your attention. But Joe wouldn’t let you. You felt how he shook his head at whoever was on the other side of the sliding door and didn’t let his grip waver.

Apparently there was some sort of nonverbal communication, because next you felt Joe jerk his head to the side. You imagined he nodded in the direction he wanted that person to disappear into. Imagined his frowning fuck off facial expression.

“Who is that?” you asked, voice a little constricted because you had a throat full of weird emotions.

“No one important.”

You huffed a laugh. The people inside were all of your friends – they were all important.

After another short silence, Joe let his arms slip down and pulled back. You weren’t off the hook yet, though. Joe kept his arms loosely around you and forced eye-contact.

“You okay?”

“Yea...” you lied as you sniffed.

“...you sure?”

You huffed a laugh and were honest when you said, “No.”

You saw Joe’s worried eyes scan your features, seemingly looking for something hidden in your eyes. Then his eyes cast down and looked at the drink you were holding still.

“Need something stronger?”

“Yes, please.”

Joe smiled at you, impossibly warm, and kind, and sweet. It was the sort of grin that was impossible not to copy.

“I’ll be just a sec,” Joe said, stepping towards the door. “Do not do anythi– keep both those feet on the ground, no irrational silly decisions.”

You gave him a deadpan stare followed by an eye-roll that made him laugh.

“All right. Just checking,” Joe disappeared inside and couldn’t fight his smile.

Neither could you.

Inside you saw people try to grab his attention, try to ask him if you were okay, what was going on with you. It was all well-meant attention, but exactly the opposite of what Joe wanted. He’d assigned himself the role of carer for the night. Would lend you either shoulder of his for you to cry on for however long you needed.

Joe wasn't going to lie; he fucking loved this.

Obviously it was awful that you were sad, but to be able to swing in and protect a fragile pretty girl all night? Sign him the fuck up.

It’s why he ended up ignoring everyone for the rest of the night. Told people to leave you alone, that you needed a minute, to not bother you a second. Hogged you all night. Kept you out on the balcony and fetched you drinks and snacks. And when you started getting cold, only more reason to hug you, to try and keep you warm.

And, listen, so what if you started playing up how sad you actually really were?

So what if you used a face on Joe that you knew would make him go, “No, stop it, don’t cry, enough now,” whilst using a palm to push your head into his chest?

So what if, after a quiet murmuring conversation whilst hugging, you shivered because just Joe’s arms around your back weren’t warming you up enough, and to fix it, Joe opened his coat and let you snuggle inside whilst he wrapped the wool mix fabric tightly around your back?

So what if you were a little more into the attention than you were letting on, and started mentally thanking the universe for that wanker standing you up tonight?

You deserved nice things too.

And Joe was a nice thing.

Joe made soft jokes about the people you were both looking at inside. Said some of them definitely deserved to be ghosted by someone, unlike you. Made you turn your attention towards the moon, because look how nice it looked tonight. Let you complain about your lack of love life and was self-deprecating about his love life in return, just to make you smile.

Joe let you try a hand at rolling a cigarette for him, which you’d never done before. It was obvious too. When you handed him a barely-there sad excuse for a cigarette, all pretend-proud because you knew exactly how shite it was, Joe carefully took it from you and inspected it with a funny face, eyes all narrow, eyebrows up high on his face. Made you giggle. But then he went and actually tried to light it, and you laughed, tried to take it from him and said, “No, don't actually smoke it!” but Joe was quick to hold it out of your reach as he blew out a little smoke and said, “It's perfect.”.

Joe warmed you up from the inside out and from the outside in. With more drinks, and whispered jokes, and empathetic eyes, and squeezing hugs, and with the body heat trapped between his button-down and his coat.

After one particular tight squeeze, you felt your whole body react. Unmistakably you felt it mostly inside of your underwear.

Fanny-flutter.

That sort of made sense. How could any of this not have an effect on you? And it wasn’t as if it didn’t have an effect on Joe, either.

You easily confessed, alcohol in your veins lessening the sensitivity to rejection, not at all bothered about what Joe's reaction would be. You had expected it would definitely make him feel awkward, would maybe scare him off, but instead, he’d gone, “Yea? Feel this,” and had guided your hand to his crotch. He was half-hard.

Inside, one of your friends saw and grabbed another by the forearm, eyes bulging with shock. Joe’s coat covered your hand from direct view, and the light from inside reflected in the windows, but that was definitely your hand pressing onto a penis. The windows were big and you were stood right in front. How was no one to notice this? It was just the one friend at first though, but her gasp followed by the arm grab made two people see.

Then two more.

Then five, seven– eight.

“Did he just...?”

“I fucking told you– I called it! Didn't I call this an hour ago?”

You faked needing to go to the toilet and left without telling your friends goodbye.

Two minutes later Joe excused himself, said he was tired and would see everyone next week, and had found you waiting for him just outside the building.

He took some hurried steps and stopped to stand right in front of you, peering down and smiling slightly. You’d been close all night, bodies either touching or close enough to touch, and even though it had just been mere minutes, Joe had started missing it already, so he stood close and looked down at you and smiled. Waited.

His coat was hanging open still from when you’d been inside of it, and with the wind picking up, you used it as an excuse to keep your hands and fingers busy because, what the fuck were you and Joe actually going to do?

Tension had risen enough on the balcony, and you’d essentially snuck out after revealing to each other that you’d turned each other on.

You and Joe didn’t do this.

Had never done this.

But all you knew is that you wanted to be close to him, and so your fingers slowly buttoned up his coat, starting from the bottom. Joe didn’t move and tried to control his breathing as he watched your eyes drag up his body one button at a time.

You let your hands linger after doing up the last one, fingers touching the fabric that covered his chest, and you swallowed as you stared. Imagined the skin that was hidden underneath all the layers there.  

“Mine or yours?” Joe asked, voice impossibly soft.

Your breath hitched, and on the back-end of an exhale you managed to say, “You live closer.”

“All right,” Joe grinned widely and presented his open palm, “Let’s go then.”.

You grabbed onto it and turned to start the short walk, but Joe was cemented in place and pulled you right back, swinging you back and right into him. You’d have laughed at how clumsy that collision felt if it wasn’t for Joe’s lips clashing with yours on the impact.

You wished it didn’t take you by surprise as much as it did, because you knew Joe must’ve felt how you went rigid all over for a second and he was about to pull back in response. Like he’d made a mistake and only realized by your reaction.

The slightest hint of Joe not kissing you, however, was enough to kickstart your whole system and you moved to chase after him which resulted in the kiss never even breaking, and Joe released a small noise from his throat.

Not a mistake, then.

He kissed you harder when you reciprocated, and it was cold out, but Joe was warm, and you and Joe had never done this before – had never even looked at each other and considered this to be a possibility, and it was exciting. The buildup had felt so very natural and, listen, you were both adults, weren’t you? Could do what you wanted to do. Didn’t have to talk everything over because, well, doing this, doing what your bodies felt like doing, was just nicer.

Joe shook his hand from the one he was still holding onto and moved them up to hold your face. Cupped your jaw and held your head in place as he kissed you more. You had to hold onto his wrists for fear of losing balance, or maybe for fear of floating away entirely.

The sound of a balcony door opening high up above you somewhere sprung anxiety into Joe’s legs.

He broke the kiss, found your hand again and said, “Quick. Come on,” and pulled you right along the pavement, your shorter legs doing the most to try and keep up.

Quick legs nearly jogged themselves down a couple of streets, and knees impatiently clicked in and out of over-stretching as you had to wait for some cars to pass when you had to cross a road. Joe took the moment to bring your colder hand up to his face, cupping it with both of his and blowing some hot air onto your fingers before he planted kisses there.

You let an almost pained noise escape you, said, “Can’t be so sweet to me. Makes me want to be sweet back.” which was music to Joe’s ears.

About a minute removed from Joe’s flat, you felt a drop on your forehead. Then another. You held out a hand, and felt how quickly the rain picked up.

“Shit, come on,” Joe said, squinting up at the sky and tightening his grip on your hand before he started running.

It only took a second for the couple of drops to turn into a sudden torrential downpour. The water was cold, and it hurt your forehead, but you were laughing as you ran. This all felt ridiculous.

Joe had to let go of your hand to get into his building, and you saw his wet hands fumble with his keys a little. Joe noticed his own shaky fingers and knew you were watching too, so he overdid it. Shook so hard, he dropped the keys and made you laugh.

“Oh my God, hurry up,” you pretended to want to take over, but you got playfully shoved to the side and just got more wet in the process.

Both ways.

When he eventually pushed the door open, he held it and did a silly little bow whilst gesturing for you to walk inside first.

Ever the gentleman. Meant he'd be outside in the rain longer.

He took hold of you by the waist with both hands and dug his fingers in firmly over your coat. You were a tipsy mess of soft giggles as you covered his hands with yours, easily letting yourself be lead towards the lift.

Each time there was a second of you not being as close, it was his hands to moved you back in.

Outside the lift you kissed some more.

Inside the lift you kissed some more.

Outside Joe’s door you kissed some more, hands roaming over clothes.

Inside Joe’s flat you kissed some more, hands roaming under clothes.

Wet coats and shoes got discarded in a messy heap by the door.

You noticed that Joe’s ears had significantly darkened in colour, from more than the cold rain could’ve done to them. They were so fucking red, you could practically feel the phantom burn in your own. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in here, in his flat. Maybe a couple months ago when you and some friends picked him up on your way somewhere, dipped inside real quick because one needed the toilet and another had never seen the place before.

You hadn’t been there often at all, but you knew the way to his bedroom. Made your way there blindly, because all you could see was the inside of your eyelids as Joe kept his face firmly attached to yours.

In there, you bumped your hip into a dresser and nearly tripped over something left on the floor. Joe made noises as if he could feel your pain and pulled you snug against him by the hips. Made you be able to feel his entirety through his trousers, and something in the back of your brain sparked. 

Instead of focusing on your own clothes, your mind was with getting Joe out of his first. You wanted to feel him. You’d get to you later. 

Wrong.

Joe got to you immediately.

He pulled on the hem of your top and worked it over your head, leaving your to blow a mess of hair from your face which didn't work because it was all wet strands that stuck to wet skin. You heard Joe suppress a giggle, used a kiss to not let it slip out, because fucking God, you were so fucking cute.

Your fingers found Joe’s trousers to undo, but Joe was quick to take over. Knew it’d be faster if he did it himself.

“You’re going to have to talk to me,” Joe panted, shoulders pulled up high and chin tucked in as he undid the button to his trousers, carefully handling the zipper. You frowned as you peeled your wet jeans from your legs, nearly losing your balance as you did.

Was okay though. Joe caught you with a strong arm before you did. 

“Tell me what you like,”

Considerate. But you weren’t one to say all that much during getting to know someone like this. Joe could get some panting yesses and some encouraging moans from you to guide him along, but that’d sort of be it.

“Tell me what you don’t,” Joe added, because your lack of answer translated into hesitation from you.

The rain was really coming down harder now, violent and unrelenting, tapping hard against the windows of his bedroom. It was nice for background noise, didn’t leave the silence awkward. Muffled everything a little and you were glad you couldn't hear your own heartbeat in your ears because that meant Joe wouldn't be able to hear it rattle in your chest either.

With his arm still around your waist from making sure you didn’t topple over, Joe crowded in more, and where touches and kisses had been hurried and messy since stepping over the threshold, Joe took a second to just... be close.

Let his nose circle yours without letting your lips meet.

It turned you on so much, it kind of drove you mad.

He took a small step forwards that forced you to take one backwards.

You curled both arms behind your back to unclasp your bra, and Joe was quick to remove it from between the two of you, letting it drop to the floor. You heard his careful breathing, felt it on your face as his grip around you tightened as he slowly pushed forward more.

You took small backward steps until the back of your legs touched the bed and you made sure to wrap both arms around Joe’s neck to ensure you’d take him with you.

Joe braced an arm against the bed, slowing you both down, ensuring the wind didn't get knocked out of you.

The second your bare back touched his sheets, Joe's mouth found yours again in the dark and hands roamed where they hadn't roamed before.

“Is this okay?” Joe muttered after a while, one finger hooking the side of your underwear, like this wasn’t the sole reason for you even being there in the first place, and you nodded.

Of course this was okay. 

But suddenly, almost just to fuck with him, you frowned and went, “Actually…” all serious, like you were about to leave a yelp review, and Joe pulled back immediately. 

You felt how he held his breath, waiting for you to say something. Hesitant. Nervous.

“You’ve not said anythi– look, these match the bra,”

Joe’s eyes scanned down, looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see your bra at all, and then turned to look back at you, confused.

“It’s a set.”

Joe didn’t get it. Why would he fucking care if your bra matched your briefs?

Joe dipped down and kissed your neck to avoid having to answer.

Joe had also said you’d have to tell him what you liked, and... all right, fine, you could try.

“Tell me you like it, I want you to– say you like ‘em,”

“I love them,” Joe immediately obliged, speaking hot breath into your ear.

Good.

You hadn’t put the effort in for Joe specifically, because how could you have ever predicted this is where you’d end up, but you had put in effort and wanted, no needed, the validation.

“I love them so much,” Joe said, hands now working to pull them down your legs whilst you started trying to undo Joe of his underwear.

It was dark, and the air around you felt cold where the rain had left you wet, but Joe was on top of you, and you were both entirely naked now, and arousal worked hard to heat you up from the inside out. You felt yourself start to unfurl at the edges.

Joe’s hands were everywhere.

Joe’s mouth was everywhere.

“Inside,” you panted, surprised you were actually instructing.

“Yea? Where?” Joe asked, voice all breathy, his fingers stroking silky soft skin, leaving trails of tingles and slick.

You didn’t even really care where if you were honest. Just wanted to feel him inside. You’d felt it press up against you for long enough now.

“Inside,” you said again, unable and unwanting to explain yourself any further, but using your hands to help and guide, showing him rather than telling him.

And fine. Joe could be shown. Instructing didn’t always need words. Could be nonverbal all the same, Joe decided, gladly letting you help him push himself inside.

And, fuck.

Fuck.

That felt so fucking good.

Joe went slow.

Was all tender touch and paid attention. Tried to hold his breath until he couldn’t anymore. Tried to keep his groans inside until he couldn’t anymore.

Joe went slow until he couldn’t anymore, hips finding a pace all by themselves, spurred on by your moans and your finger nails that dug wherever they could dig.

Joe’s weight on top felt nice.

Joe’s hands moving your legs about rather than trying to manoeuvre you into entirely new positions was nice.

Joe’s head buried into the space between your neck and shoulder was nice.

All his sounds unmistakably close to your ear was nice.

It was all nice, and then it became good.

“Yes,” you panted, moaned loudly, and heard Joe pant and huff a proud laugh.

“Yea?”

“Mm hmm,”

You felt it creep up. Slowly, but definitely there. Joe needed to keep doing exactly what he was doing. No messing.

“Yes, don’t stop, don’t–” moans got louder, and, it fed something inside Joe. His ego, his pride, his dignity, his confidence.

It had the wrong effect.

Joe knew he was doing something good, because, look at you. But it made him want to do more. Encouraged by the noise you were making, Joe upped all of everything he was doing, and–

“No, you’re–” you laid a flat hand over his shoulder in an attempt to slow him back down.

You felt how Joe went rigid, almost halted entirely.

“Go back– you need to, do it– I said, don’t stop, you–”

You weren’t very good at using your words, but could anyone really blame you? Look at where you were. What you were doing. How you were feeling.

Joe got the message, though. Went back to what he was doing before when you had started moaning yesses and, yea, it took a little time to get back to that same place you were before. But Joe was unrelenting, just like the rain outside that got smacked against the windows by strong gusts of wind, and your orgasm hit you just like it as well.

For a second or two, you weren’t really there.

You felt Joe’s weight, felt his movement, felt his touch, but you were gone.

Heard just the rustle of wind and the clattering of raindrops, a loud static in your mind, and felt utter, utter bliss.

You floated long, tried to stretch it for as long as you could, until you suddenly were there again, in Joe's bedroom, on top of his sheets, and you heard him groan loudly. Felt his hips stutter against your own. Felt him spill deep inside.

It took Joe long to pull out.

He kind of kept going for a little bit after he came too, seemed almost hypnotised and went for as long as he could, until he couldn't anymore. Until he winced, and stopped, and carefully pulled himself out.

You awaited reality to crash into you like a shockwave, but the shock took its sweet time and you thought maybe it was saving itself for the morning, because this was always your favourite part. Straight after, where guys let their heads drop against your shoulder, against your chest, all their weight heavy on top as they caught their breath.

And Joe was just like every other guy ever, because he did the same. Rested on top of you until his breathing evened out.

But Joe was also different, because before he rolled off of you, his hands found your face to touch, to cup, to hold as he pressed kisses into sweaty skin, and then asked you if you needed anything. If he could get you something.

“The bathroom,” you said, letting a breathy laugh escape you that Joe copied.

You pushed all thoughts of doubt aside, told your mind that it could panic over the lack of protection used later. Shock was allowed to find you in the morning, you’d decided now.

“Don’t be long,” Joe mused, rolling off and moving covers to crawl underneath, revealing he expected you back. Back into bed with him. To cuddle, to snuggle, to tangle limbs and to fall asleep together.

What the fuck was your life?

You and Joe didn’t do this.

Had never done this.

But it was nice, and comfortable, and exactly what you fucking needed, so you gave in. Peed, cleaned yourself up, splashed water wherever you felt it needed splashing, and snuck right back into bed where it was warm. Where two strong arms pulled you close.

You were both naked still.

And Joe had his remnants inside you still.

But reality could find you later.

Joe warmed you up from the inside out and from the outside in.

Reality could find you in the morning.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[promptedwordsmith]

My Rules

I have received quite a few requests that I’m not entirely comfortable with, so I just wanted to put a post out acknowledging this.

I will not be writing any vore, or very deviant sexual things I am ace so I'm afraid to say as of right now I'm uncomfortable with writing anything sexual, I may warm up to it in the future so I will not write any non-con/con non-con or anything of the like.

I will not be writing any crossovers, or anything that looks like a large project. They are wonderful ideas that could really go somewhere, but unfortunately not with me.

I will also not be doing any period related prompts, periods are a sensitive subject for me and any writing about them makes me uncomfortable so apologies but I won't be writing for this.

Thank you everyone for the requests but going forward these are my rules, I will add more if need be but for now please respect my wishes. I’m sorry if this has disappointed you, you are more than welcome to put in another request following the ground rules and I wll happily try my hardest!

In summary:

Yes!

Fluff

Angst

Comfort

No!

Smut (non-con or otherwise)

Vore

Crossovers

Period related asks

[secret-explosion]

Hello weary traveler, welcome to the Intro! My name is Sec! Secret Explosion is a page for reblogging sickfics, whump, and snz content. I may even post my own stuff on occasion. I don't have preferred pronouns, so address me however you please.

I have been on a Ha//zb//in Ho//t//el kick as of late. Other fandoms include(but not limited to): T/M/A, Ma/levolent, The W/itcher, T/U/A, G/ood O/mens, ect

Things to look forward to: I am in the process of writing a Ma/levolent fic and currently wrapping up an allergy comic for Ha//zb//in tagged D/o/g days

Now that you know what content to expect, there are a few ground rules of the blog for visitors to follow:

1. To be Absolutely Clear: This Is a Snz Blog. Please don't interact or reblog if you don't relate

2. Minors: do not interact with this blog. I am a grown adult in my 20's. Meaning that this space is off limits to anyone under 18.

2a. Yes, age matters: If you do not have an age listed in the bio and start interacting with me, I will block you.

2b. What Is Interaction? For clarification, Minors: do not follow me, like or reblog my content. Please, just don't. Tumblr is vast! You'll find a blog that speaks to you. Live long and Tumbl on my friends!

3. To those with a regular blog: I do not mind you perusing my content, but be mindful to not reblog. I do not want this blog to reach the other corners of Tumblr

4. To people who are not interested in this content; please refer to rule 1. and 2. Again, I don't want my content spread to the vanilla side of tumblr for any reason

5. Content Control: I tag pretty consistently and pretty well so if there is any content you don't want to see specifically, just block the tag or block me

6. Most Important: Please do not spread hate or shaming. Just be nice to eachother!

Ok, I think that covers most of what I wanted to touch upon.

I cannot write very well, but if anyone has a character they would like to see in a situation, send an ask and I'll post the doodle!

Also, feel free to use any headcannons I post if they inspire something! It would truly be an honor. Thank you for reading to this point! Have a good one!

[spiralingemptyness]

request/submissions are open

includes:

Art

Questions

My or your thoughts/opinions

recipe suggestions (to give or get)

etc.

can’t promise I’ll get to them quickly but I will try, I enjoy seeing each comment and (good) reactions about my post, it typically doesn’t fail to put a smile on my face.

ground rules tho:

I have the right to ignore/delete anything I feel uncomfortable with

i curse, a lot, if you don’t like that ignore it

no incest, none, at all

no minor x adult

Don’t like, too bad, ignore it

Things about me

Aroace

they/he

Multi fandom

i have tiktok :)) @spiralingemptynes (shameless ik)

artist, will take request

like talking with people who share my interest (or don’t share mine, I’m willing to gain more interest)

like comments and responses on repost (only if they’re nice)

multi shipper and rare pair consumer

cant spell or tag for shit :)

i can cook without burning down a house and am fond of baking

very fucking indecisive

lonely af and have no life

curse worse than a sailor

Might add more later

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

Ground Rules

Blank blogs will be blocked. I realize this may seem off-putting, and I apologize for that fact, but I am a real person, and I want to know that I am interacting with other real people. Not bots. Especially not porn bots. Nada. Please consider that before clicking that 'follow' button, loves.

This will be a blog that covers a variety of fandoms, and I currently have no real pattern for which fandom(s) gain the most attention as far as re-blogs on any given day. If some of these fandoms aren't your cup of tea, that's more than fine! Please do not disrespect or harass any of those that do enjoy them along the way.

Basically it all boils down to respect. We all have our own opinions, and our rights to those opinions, whether or not they make sense to anyone else. What will not be tolerated is aggression, bullying, shaming or judgment of any kind regarding those differences. That type of behavior towards either myself, or any of my other followers will not be tolerated, and any instigators will be blocked immediately.

Lastly, I welcome any interaction from all of my lovely followers via asks, direct messages, re-blogs or whatever else floats your boat! If you'd rather observe quietly that is more than fine, but if you want to, I am here to talk fandom, fics, and pretty much anything else! 🥰

[sirens-au-asks]

Welcome to my AU askblog!

Wanted to state some “ground rules” for anyone wanting to ask questions!

These questions are for characters within the AUs I create. They can be any of my AUs. Doesn’t have to just be Featherweight or Snapshot, and also doesn’t even have to be hermitcraft related at all! Literally any of my AUs for anything.

That being said, I will not answer any questions directed towards me. You can ask me those on my main blog ( @doctorsiren ) just because I don’t wanna “break character” much over here.

I also will not answer every question. If I’ve answered a question before or one similar to it, I won’t do another one bc there’s no point. I also highly advise against broad group questions ( for example, questions that are like “hey closet gang, how’s war prep going?”) because it’s just kinda vague and I get a lot of asks like that. The best asks are the ones that are directed towards specific characters, because it makes it easier for me to know what I’m going to draw :)

I do allow crossover asks and they happen pretty frequently, so don’t feel like you have to be confined to the bounds of an AU. I also will do non-canon stuff here, so that’s fun

Also I won’t answer any asks that I don’t feel comfortable answering or if they’re too vague/broad or complex for me to get a good answer or drawing out of (I don’t want to tire myself out of having fun)

Anyways! Just wanted to state that! Happy asking!