#I do just wander around talking to myself 😂

[freepassbound]

39. What type of music do you like?

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

51. Are you a good liar?

52. How long could you go without talking?

56. What do you like on your toast?

65. Freebie: If you had an absurd amount of money (think Jeff Bezos type of money), what would you spend it on?

39. Oh... classical, '80s & '90s pop/rock/alternative... a little bit of almost anything? Except country, and generally rap.

49. Hmm. 🤔 My first instinct was a possum and a turtle... but is that an armadillo?

51. Only on rare occasions. Generally I'm not particularly good at it. I obfuscate better than I actually lie.

52. Probably not that long - I talk to myself. 😂

56. The classics: peanut butter, jelly, cinnamon-sugar.

65. I'd give it away. I really mean it. Full-on MacKenzie Scott. The only things I'd do for myself are build a house in a perfect spot and make a bank account to live off of forever. Maybe buy a '90s LeSabre and have it restored?

[littlespacereader]

I haven’t regressed for a while because you know, life sometimes gets in the way. But I finally got a moment after class to have the rest of the evening off and just regress. At first I was worried I wouldn’t be able to regress after a stressful day at college. Then I literally was two second into a Blue’s Clues episode with Steve and suddenly I’m a baby😂 Steve just had the magic touch🥹💞

I felt inspired to write a cute fic with him and a little reader. I’m actually thinking of making a mini series of fics with a little reader in a kids show. What do you think? Would you guys like something like that? Let me know����

So please enjoy another “side quest fic” I didn’t plan on writing😂💞

Looking for Blue’s Clues🐾

Caregiver!Steve Burns & GN Little!Reader

Tags - scavenger hunt, Steve is the most gentle and patient CG ever, hand holding, hugs

I held my head up high as I walked through the woods, stuffie in hand, backpack on my shoulders, wandering around on my own little adventure. I needed this, just some time away from the busy and hectic working world. I just needed some time outdoors to regress in peace.

And that’s what I did. All my supplies shoved into my backpack, my favorite stuffie in hand, I am ready to go! I started on a trail, following the winding trail through the thick woods. I’ve been on this trail before, it’s calm, quiet and peaceful. Perfect for a regression day.

As I kept walking I noticed something with my usual trail. The trail split into two pathways. One, the usual path, went right and down towards a river. But now there’s a left path, a path that’s never existed before. Maybe the parks department decided to make a new path for everyone?

There was something deep down inside of me that filled with excitement for the new adventure. I looked to my stuffie in hand, “What do you think (stuffie name)?”

Though they didn’t outright say it, I knew my stuffie wanted me to go forward towards the adventure.

“You’re so right! New trail it is!”

The path wasn’t very different than the other trail, though it did go deeper into the woods. But there was a clearing up ahead, I could see there was a colorful neighborhood with a yellow house.

A blue dog ran infront of me, stopping me in my tracks. She began talking to me before she skipped away. I smiled to myself, a blue dog?! That’s a first!

Suddenly out of the corner of my eyes I spotted something. On one of the tall trees next to me is a blue paw print. I walked over and looked at the print and smiled. Why would there be a blue paw print here? Did that dog leave it behind?

“A clue!”

I quickly turned around to be greeted by a man in a stripped green shirt. He smiled, happy to see me as if he knew me his whole life.

“You found a clue!”

“A clue?” I pointed to the blue print.

“A blue’s clue! Great job! You’re very smart.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the praise. “Thank you, but I wasn’t even trying.”

“You weren’t trying to find blue’s clue and you found it anyway? You’re better at this than me! Wow!” Again, the stranger glowed with praise.

“I’m Steve, it’s so nice to meet you.” He put his hand out to shake.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.” I gladly shook his hand.

“Now that we have our first clue, we gotta put it in our handy dandy notebook!” Steve pulled out his notebook from his back pocket, popping the crayon out from the top and flipping to the first page.

He stood along side me so I could see what he was drawing. “So our first clue is a tree. We’ll start with two big lines for the trunk of the tree, then we’ll draw smaller lines on the top for the branches, then we’ll make this curly lines for the leafs at the top of the tree. There, a tree.” He looked up from his drawing to smile back at me.

“Our first clue is a tree. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree?” He asked me.

I began thinking of all the possibilities a tree could mean. What does his dog want to do tonight? “Maybe she wants to play fetch with one of the branches of the tree?”

Steve hummed in agreement, “Good idea, maybe she does watch to play fetch. But we have to find the other clues to be sure.”

I nod my head in agreement but I can’t help but ask. “How many clues are there?”

“There are three clues. Once we find all three clues we sit in our thinking chair and think, think, think. Because when we use our minds, we take a step out of time and we can do anything that we want to do.” His smile is utterly contagious because I smile just as big as him.

“I’m really going to need your help to find the other two clues. Will you help me find them?”

“Yeah!” I practically jump saying.

“Really? Thank you! You’re the best! Now, this second clue must be around here somewhere…Lets go this way.” He hold his hand out to me as a silent offer.

I appreciate him not being pushy or just grabbing my hand. It was an invitation if I wanted it, so I took his hand in mine. Together we walked to the yellow house I saw earlier.

Steve opened the door and lead the way into his house. It’s beautiful with its peach tone wallpaper and big red chair in the living room.

“That’s the thinking chair,” Steve pointed out, “Once we’ve got all three clues we’ll sit there and think.”

Then it was off to the kitchen to further find a clue. Inside on the counter top is a family different spices.

“Y/N,” he squeezed my hand, “I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper and their children Cinnamon and Paprika.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes as the Salt and Pepper shaker waved and talked to me.

“Bonjour Y/N! Welcome to our home!” Mr. Salt waved.

“So wonderful to have you here.” Mrs. Pepper added.

“So nice to meet you both.” I smiled back.

But then my eyes caught it, across the kitchen on another counter top sat a bag of marshmallows. And on the bag? A big blue paw print!

“Steve! A clue! A clue!!” I squeezed his hand back and was jumping out and down.

“The flu? You don’t look sick to me. Here let me check.” He held his hand to my forehead. “No, you don’t have a temperature.”

I couldn’t help but giggle to Steve. “No! A clue! Over there!” I pointed to the paw print.

Steve gasped and quickly the two of us ran over to the bag of marshmallows. “So our second clue is…marshmallows. You know what we gotta do. We gotta put this clue in our handy dandy…”

“Notebook!”

“That’s right! Our notebook! Now, a marshmallow. We’ll make two round lines on the side and an oval on the top. At the bottom we’ll make half a circle to connect the sides. There! A marshmallow! But what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree and a marshmallow?”

The two of us stopped and started to think about the clues. There were pretty different from one another. It would be hard to tell what they meant together.

“Maybe she wants to play fetch then eat some marshmallows?” I suggested.

Steve gasped and nodded his head, “Maybe! But I think we should find our last clue before we decide.” I nodded in agreement.

Mail time, mail time mmmmaaaaaiiilllll ttttiiimmmmeeee

“Oh! The mail is here!” Steve grabbed my hand and together we ran into the living room. Blue and him started dancing around happy for the mails arrival. After a minute I started to join in the fun.

“Here’s the mail, it never fails. It makes me want to wag my tail. When it comes I want to wail, MMMMMAAAAAIIIIILLLLL!!!”

Steve plopped down into his thinking chair and held his hand out for me to sit as well. “You’re more than welcome to sit on my lap or on the arm of the chair. Whichever is more comfortable for you Y/N.”

After a moment of consideration, I chose to sit on the arm of the chair next to Steve. The mailbox stretched into the room and over to our chair. “Mails here! Mails here!”

“Mailbox! I’d like you to meet my friend Y/N. Y/N, this is Mailbox.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled to the purple mailbox.

“It’s nice to meet you too! Infact this letter is for you.”

“It’s for me?”

“Yup! Here you go!” Mailbox opens his lid and Steve grabbed the letter for me.

“We just got a letter, we just got a letter, we just got a letter, wonder who it’s from.” He went to open the letter but paused and looked to me. “Y/N this is your mail. Would you rather open it or would you like me to?”

“Could you open and read it?” I asked a bit shy. But Steve brought me back to feeling comfortable with his warm smile and nod.

“Of course I can. Now let’s see, oh! It appears that this letter is from a (stuffie name here).”

I gasped and looked down at my stuffie. “It’s from (stuffie name here)?!”

“Uh-huh. That what it says. The letter goes,

Dear Y/N,

Thank you for always taking such great care of me. Thank you for always coming to me whenever you need extra love and comfort. Always know I will forever be with you even when you have to go to school or work. There’s always a piece of me inside of you just as there a piece of you inside of me.

Love you always,

(Stuffie name).”

Tears started to fall down from my eyes as I looked at my stuffie in hand. They looked back up at me with a smile and a wink.

“What a beautiful letter! Your stuffie is very grateful for you Y/N, just as I’m sure you are for them. Oh, I don’t think we were introduced. It’s nice to meet you (stuffie name).” Steve leaned over and shook the stuffie’s (hand, paw, fin, ect.)

“They said it’s nice to meet you too.” I add back to Steve, wiping the happy tears from my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I hum in agreement. “My stuffie was just so nice.”

“They seem great! You’re perfectly matched because you’re great and they’re great too.” Steve smiled. “Now, would you like to take a moment here or would you like to go find the last clue?”

“The last clue!!”

“Alright!” He stood up and offered his hand again. I jumped off the chair and took his hand in mine again. “Off we go looking for clues…but ummm…where do you think we should go?”

I looked outside and saw the sunsetting. It might be nice to get some fresh air again. “Maybe outside?” I offered.

“Great idea! Follow me.” Steve led the way as we ventured back outside.

Outside we started to walk around the town. Steve showed me the eye doctor where Blue’s friend Magenta got her new glasses, then there was the present shop where his brother Joe works and another house down the block where his cousin Josh lives. The town seemed so nice and peaceful.

Since we didn’t see anymore of Blue’s clues we ventured back to Steve’s house and into the back yard. There it seemed all of his friends were handing out around a picnic blanket, tree and a fire pit. WAIT A MINUTE! THE FIRE PIT!

“Steve!! A clue!! Another clue!!” I pointed out again.

“Really?! Where?”

“There by the fire pit! The final clue!”

Steve gasped and looked at the fire pit. There, at the base of it was the clue.

“A clue!! Our final clue! And it’s on the fire pit. You know where we need to put this, in our handy dandy…”

“NOTEBOOK!”

Steve grabbed his notebook from his back pocket and began drawing. “So our last clue is…a fire pit. We’ll start by making a cylinder for the fire pit. Then spark points for the fire inside of it. There, a fire pit!”

He closed the notebook then looked at me just as excited. “We have all three clues! We have to sit in our-.”

“Think chair!!”

“Yes! Come on!”

The two of us raced back inside the house and over to the thinking chair. Steve sat in his usual spot and I opted for the arm of the chair again. Blue ran over and joined us, to see if we got it right.

“So now that we’re in our thinking chair, let’s think. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner? What’s our first clue?”

“A tree.”

“That’s right! A branch! Good job remembering. So our first clue is a branch. But what was our second?”

“Marshmallows!”

“You’re right it’s marshmallows! You have an amazing memory.” He smiled.

“Finally our last clue is a fire pit. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner, with a tree, marshmallows and a fire pit?”

The two of sat in the chair together and think, think, think. They did seem random at first but they meant to go together. Then suddenly it hit me!

“Steve! I’ve got it! I’ve got it!!”

“What is it Y/N?”

“Blue wants to use the wood from the tree to make a fire so that she can roast marshmallows!”

Steve’s face lights up to the idea. He looks to Blue who start jumping around the room happily. “You did it Y/N! You figure out Blue’s Clues!”

Steve jumps up and put his arms open to me. I immediately run into them, getting a big hug from him. “You are so smart! I am so proud of you!”

Tears build up in my eyes hearing the admission. He’s treated me so sweet for hardly knowing me. I haven’t felt this safe and happy in such a long time.

“Come on, let’s go outside and get ourselves a marshmallow.” Steve says as we break apart.

The two of us join the rest of the neighborhood outside to roast some marshmallows. There I meet Joe and Josh as well as the rest of the family including Magenta, Sidetable, and more.

I sat next to Steve as the evening turned to night. We looked up at the stars above as we ate our marshmallows.

“You know, you could stay if you wanted?” Steve said after a moment. I looked at him shocked at first. “It’s just that, you did such a good job finding all the clues. And Blue and I loved having you here. Plus, I could look after you and show you the rest of the town and-.”

He stopped himself. “Sorry, what I’m trying to say is. If you like to stay you’re more than welcome to. I’d love to have you here. And before you say anything, I don’t mind your regression. I’d love to help take care of you and maybe even possible be your Caregiver. So what do you think?”

I immediately began to tear up again. “I’d love to stay and I’d love to have you as my Caregiver.”

Steve’s nervousness turned immediately to happiness as he put his arms out again. I didn’t waste any time as I joined him in a hug.

“I’m so happy to hear that Y/N. I think you’re going to be the best person for this town. I couldn’t be more happy to have you here Y/N.” Steve added as we broke apart.

“I couldn’t be more happy to be here.” I smiled back.

[stardewremixed]

First Kiss with Shane

@hellhoundmaggie requested a first kiss scene with Shane. He was the first guy I romanced in SDV, mostly because it was easy to in the beginning and I wanted that first-year flower dance so badly. 😂 🌸

🎈 In case you missed it - First Kiss with Harvey. 🎈

While Harvey holds a special place in my heart and is generally my go-to husbando, I didn’t want to leave my “first SDV squeeze” in the lurch. I’m trying to expand my experience with writing romance in general. Hope you enjoy. It’s a freakin’ novella. Haha. I don’t do short, and I wanted to show how he fell in love with the Farmer, and she with him. 

This is female farmer x Shane = first kiss. This one might be a little more PG. 

😉❤️‍🔥🔥

Sweaty palms. Greasy hair. Chubby cheeks and legs. Is this what she sees in me?

Shane stared bleakly at his own reflection in the refrigerator door. It was quiet. Nearly noiseless in the back aisle of the stark JojaMart. A lull in the daily traffic around 4pm on the dot. When his shift ended.

Shane pressed his forehead against the glass, grumbling to himself about his infinite lack of progress on losing weight. Ever since he started going to therapy and quit drinking, he felt confident that his life would turn around. Like magic.

However, life outside the rehabilitation center was much harder than he remembered. He was still stuck in the same dead-end job. He was still bumming a room off his aunt with his piddly rent And he was still rather plump around his abdomen. 

Every time Morris ordered him around, in that pompous high London accent, Shane wanted to give up. To give in. To snatch a beer outta the cooler and gulp away his frustrations.

Instead, he settled for cussing under his breath, and resolving to keep his head down. At least until he could find another job. No one seemed to be hiring in this dying town. The recession was still hitting hard. And he knew he was lucky to get his old job back after nine months in detox and rehab.

It was worth it. It would be worth it. He convinced himself as he puffed a lazy strand of hair out of his eye and continued stocking cartons of overprocessed milk, nothing like his aunt’s fresh bottles or the farmer’s delicious cheeses. 

While he was still grossly underpaid, Shane worked out the math. In six more checks, he could repay her. The Jolly Rancher. Just thinking about his silly little nickname for the farmer lady to the north gave him a warm feeling. The kind that alcohol used to give him, only better, more real. Her smile was sweet.

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When she first arrived in town, Shane genuinely disliked her. All her bubbly, bouncy, jolly persona encroaching on his flat, boring, grumpy existence. He had cultivated a philosophy of "me myself and I" and was perfectly content being alone, sulking into a pitcher of beer at the end of the night. But not really…

Her jovialty grew on him, especially when he would see her around town, helping people out. At first, he figured she was just another city do-gooder come to convert the backwater people to a more modern lifestyle. But her joy and kindness was genuine. Even when he yelled at her to go away, she still murmured a heartfelt apology for disturbing him and then brought him freshly grown peppers or tomatoes the next day like nothing had ever happened.

The Farmer purchased cows from Marnie so she could make her own specialty dairy products. He was seriously impressed. Because what city girl just ups and buys cattle? 

Sometimes when he was restlessly tossing and turning in bed (and if was honest, lonely), Shane would wander around in the wee pre-dawn hours. He always seemed to make his way to her ranch. Most of the time, she was out in the barn milking the cows and talking to them like they were her babies, with just a lantern illuminating her soft face. She was so beautiful. 

Raising cattle was no simple task. He knew this from watching his aunt. And Marnie had horses, pigs, goats, rabbits and chickens to think of too. He wasn't sure if the new rancher in town, with little to no experience (save her degree in veterinary medicine), was stupid or brave. Over time, he determined she was the latter.

Out searching for a lost cow in a thunderstorm. Not thinking about her own welfare. Only wanting to reunite a terrified animal with its herd. 

Fixing fences after wolves knocked down the back posts time and time again. Her fingers bleeding and scarred because of her lack of self-awareness sometimes. And chasing of “’dem there wolves” with sheer willpower... and... a big stick. 

Rebuilding the barn from scratch when a wildfire spread down from the mountains. She saved every single one of those animals. And needing treatment for smoke inhalation because she went back in for the tiniest frightened newborn. 

He remembered the time she got kicked in the head by one of the cows. Shane was so worried about her, even if he wouldn’t admit it when he carried her to the Clinic. Thankfully, it was only a minor concussion. (And it was an excuse for him to deliver Marnie's special basket of goodies to her twice daily so she didn't have to worry about feeding herself during her recovery). 

The rancher struggled for a whole year, after arriving in the Valley. But even when things went wrong, she was up and back at it the next morning with a lightness in her heart and step. It. Was. Admirable.

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Shane resolved to do better. To be better. She made him think about how things could be different if he wasn't a self-sabotaging jerkwad. The number of times she dragged his sorry ass home after getting plastered at the Saloon was too high to count, even if it was out of her way, even if she said she didn't mind. She wanted him to be okay. To be safe. She said so.

And she half pushed, half dragged him to the Clinic the night things got really dark. When he faced the edge of the cliff and thought "No more!" When he thought death would be a welcome reprieve from his pathetic life. 

She never judged him. She didn't enable him like his aunt. She didn't fall apart into a puddle of tears like Jas. She didn't lecture him on the evils of his ways while twirling his moustache like Harvey. Okay. Shane chuckled to himself. Maybe that last part was an exaggeration and unfair to the good doctor.

She. Simply. Cared. 

Through her actions. 

In the beginning, it was little things. A happy hello. A robust handwave. Then she started pulling up a barstool next to him in the Stardrop. She would ask him about his day and he would always answer the same way. But "go away" somehow morphed into a sarcastic "just peachy" and then eventually a half-hearted "fine, you can sit there." Once she jokingly called him Peaches. 

He didn't want to be bothered with her questions and idle chatter. He didn't want to listen to her ranching successes and woes, retold in a much-too-chipper voice. He didn't want to know about Bluebell and Daffodil and Daisy, how Mister Munster was nursing a hoof injury and how Mrs. Butters was expecting her second calf. Why did she think he cared about such details?

But it grew on him. Those rosy, ruddy cheeks, enjoying a hard-earned glass of whatever Gus had on tap. The way her eyes lit up and sparkled when she talked about her animal friends. The way her pale pink lips pouted when she lost a game of Journey of the Prairie King in the saloon arcade. Again. 

Shane found himself drawn to her energy. And he found himself missing her on the nights she didn't stop into the Saloon. Which was a rarity, but did happen.

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Shane knew she was someone special when he would watch the entrance door, breath caught, hoping she would breeze through, and then she didn't. Two days in a row. He started to feel disappointed, but brushed it off. Three days. He started to get concerned. On the fourth night, he went looking for her. And that's when he learned she was sick.

He practically broke down her door when she didn’t answer. 

“Aww you were worried,” she laughed weakly, and coughed. 

She looked rather pitiful, bundled under the blankets, hair sticking to her cheek, eyes droopy and dark. She thought Marnie would have told him. His aunt had sent a few of her ranch hands to help their neighbor out while she was under the weather. so her cattle weren’t forgotten 

No, Marnie never did. He suspected it was because she didn't know it would matter to him. But it did matter. She. Did. Matter. 

Without a word, Shane went to the kitchen and returned with a cool towel. He didn't even think. He laid the back of his large hand against her delicate forehead. He could've sworn the little Miss Jolly Rancher blushed. Or maybe it was the slight fever she was running. She audibly sighed as he placed the wet cloth against her burning cheek, closing her eyes and mumbling her thanks.

He wanted to know the last time she ate. She grunted and said something about some cereal earlier that morning. She didn't know for sure. She had slept most of the day. He promised he would be right back. 

She told him not to bother, as she struggled to lift her body off the bed, propping up by a shaky elbow. He insisted she lie back down. She was a stubborn one. Her protestations didn't last long as her head was too foggy to think straight. He microwaved a bowl of soup. She tried to sit up again, and he fluffed her pillows so she could prop up.

Her grip on the spoon wasn't firm, her trembling hands an indication of just how weak she was. So he caught the escaping silverware and lifted the soup to her lips. She turned red as a hot pepper, but he eased her with a surprisingly tender words, "Please. Let me take care of you for once, Miss Jolly." His own face and ears were probably red too. But she accepted.

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Since then, he began the habit of calling her "Miss Jolly." She flushed every time, but he enjoyed flustering her. It was nice… to care… about… someone.

She returned the “favor” and called him Peaches. At first, jokingly, just to annoy him. But over time, even the ridiculous fruity nickname grew on him. She was invading his thoughts and heart and he couldn’t stop her. 

He knew he had to change. He had to get better. Alcoholism was a disease that had ravaged his life and he was ready for something better. He couldn’t live like he had been any longer. She had changed everything for him. And he wanted to change in return. 

Disappointment smacked cold. He had researched so many places. But the one place that seemed to fit his needs and desired treatment plan was out of reach. Prohibitively expensive. He sold his dad’s watch. His car. He worked longer hours. Maybe in a few years he could make up the difference. 

She knew how much he wanted this... and how badly he needed this. Every glance at his savings account wanted to drive him to the bottle, the hopelessness of a solution just out of reach because of his crappy medical insurance. They wouldn’t cover it. Even though he was pretty sure Joja was the reason he drank so heavily. 

No, that wasn’t true. It was his own insurmountable guilt. Of surviving the accident. When they didn’t. Of leaving Jas without a respectable father figure. Or a mother. He didn’t even fight when the courts wanted to give him jail time. 

His aunt got a lawyer and gave him a place to stay when he got out. She helped him put together a resume and practically shoved the application for overnight backroom clerk in his hands. He had to face the music. He wasn’t cut out for any other job. And it was basically a glorified “stock boy.” 

Approaching middle-age, recently released from prison, and overwhelmed with a crushing lack of self worth, Shane interviewed and got the job. He should be grateful. But the hours were grueling and monotonous. Customers were rude. Employees were ruder. Except that Sam kid. He was a ball of sunshine. And his boss was sucking the life outta him. 

So he drank. He drank to forget. Because he couldn’t forgive himself. And every time he looked at Jas’ little pained expression, he drank more because he felt... so... damn... worthless. 

The Rancher changed things for him. He felt more positive. He got up earlier. He brushed his teeth. He combed his hair. He put on his uniform for the world’s lousiest low-paying job and went to work hoping things would be better. 

Faced with the inability to actually “get better” was... frankly... terrifying. What if he went back to being that same old pathetic blob of a human again? After ten agonizing days, he finally confided in the one person he knew he could trust. His “Miss Jolly.” 

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He couldn’t believe he had been moved to tears. She surprised him... again. With her thoughtful generosity and selflessness. She promised to pay for the difference. Whatever he couldn’t afford. She told him it wasn’t a big deal. It was a VERY BIG deal! She still had some of the inheritance money from her grandfather. What she hadn’t spent on fixing up the farm. 

“So I don’t get those gingham curtains I’ve had my eyes on for the past month,” she quipped. 

It was serious. He couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t accept it. It was too much. He didn’t like the idea of being indebted. He was stubborn. He could refuse. 

But she was more stubborn. She insisted it would be a loan, not a gift. He could pay it off over time. Without interest. Or he could work it off - sweat equity - on her ranch. Maybe with those chickens he liked so much. 

In the end, he caved. He packed up what little he could take with him. And she walked him to the bus stop. Kissed his cheek. Squeezed his hand. And said the words that simultaneously made him laugh and warmed his heart.

“Go get ‘em, Peaches.” 

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That was a year ago now. When he came home, she threw a big surprise party for him. A few people from town, his aunt, Jas. And she never looked more beautiful. She even found chicken shaped balloons. Because... what guy doesn’t want balloon animals from the girl he’s crushing on? 

Crushing on? He smirked. I sound like a middle schooler. 

He split his time between the market and her ranch. Gradually spending more and more time on her farm. Gathering eggs before his shift. Feeding chickens on the way home from work. Sipping peach iced tea in the shade of her porch and thinking this life wasn’t half-bad. But he wanted more. 

She started bringing by lunches on his longer shift days. Homemade sandwiches and fresh-pressed juices and handpicked peppers. The kind that burst with sweetness or that spicy kick he needed to get through the rest of his day. 

She learned to roll her own dough. Once a week, on hot summer evenings, she would make him pizza with her own special spicy red sauce. Wearing that cute little red and white checkered apron around her jean shorts and just below the edge of her tank top. Too hot to be standing around the stovetop making pizza sauce or the oven to bake the dough. But she did it for him. Shane looked forward to it after a long and grueling Saturday shift. 

He still stopped at the Saloon most nights, but now it was just to drink soda and share a pepper poppers appetizer. Gus started bottling root beer, made from bark and flowers and herbs from around the Valley. It wasn’t alcoholic. And it was an acquired taste. Getting better with time. 

She would breeze in and offer suggestions and feedback. Shane enjoyed watching the two “play” squabble over the choice of leaves. The kindly saloon owner and the girl he liked collaborating to make him a refreshing drink became a welcome nicety. 

Most nights, they didn’t stay long. Heading out for long walks around town. Shoes scuffling along cobblestones. Kicking up dirt on wooded paths. Kicking off on the beach to feel the mushy sand. Talking about nothing important, but always special. Any time with her was special. 

He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have a friend like her. To have a woman of her rare caliber show him any attention at all. She got past his defenses and he welcomed it. And deep in his heart, Shane knew - this was love. 

With today’s paycheck, he could finally take her on a proper date. Somewhere out of the Valley. Someplace where they could have fun together. He felt the excitement and nervous anticipation rising in his chest. Somehow he fumbled through an “ask” on her front porch this morning, managing to invite her to join him... if she wanted... at the bus stop... around 5pm. He had tickets to see the Tunnelers play. 

Shane finished his shelf, glancing at his watch. Ten past four. Just enough time to get home, showered, and changed. He disposed of the empty boxes in the dumpster and delivered the cart to the back room. Opening his locker, he hung his apron on the hook. Instantly, he felt lighter. Like that thing was a noose around his neck. A ball and chain. He really needed a new job. And in fifty, no, forty-six minutes, he could see her... 

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"SHANE!"

The shrill obnoxious tone pierced his moment of peace. The voice could only belong to one person - a holllow husk of a corporate shill, even more unlikeable than him, if that was even possible. Shane frowned, his eyes clamping on the store manager barreling toward him at full speed. 

“A whole second shipment came in just now,” the man grunted. “Like I need this when I’m short-staffed, as always,” he offered an exasperated sigh. 

I can’t imagine why... Shane thought to himself, bemused. The boss was insufferable. Always barking orders. Never praising his team. Paying peanuts. Polishing his baby - a silver Rolls Royce in mint condition - parked in the only covered spot in the entire Joja lot - every night - instead of doing paperwork like he should. How was he still employed? No one at corporate cared. 

“Not my problem, Morris,” Shane replied. 

“No, no, no,” Morris fluttered his short arms. “It is your problem. I need you to stay late and help Sam empty the truck.”

The man continued to ramble something about “this is why I pay you” and “you think you can do better somewhere else?” He badgered Shane about his “work ethic,” even if Shane had been a near model employee since returning from rehab. Even if his former colleagues actually welcomed him back, much to his shock. Shy little Claire even commented on how he was “different” than before.

Shane had been nominated for employee of the month, no doubt, angering Morris. The man had it out for him. Sticking him on graveyard shifts. Making him mop baby puke in the aisles. Forcing him to attend a “hospitality” seminar so he could learn to be nicer to, in Morris’ words, “bored housewives who somehow like your prickly personality.” 

Morris, a man who prided himself in appearance, with his neat little bow tie and perfectly ironed jacket, couldn’t believe how the ladies bought more after a rough encounter with Shane. It was good for business, of course, and Morris would take all the credit. That hospitality seminar wasn’t cheap, he constantly reminded Shane. Like rehab hadn’t made him a better person already. Or his relationship with little Miss Jolly. 

“They just fawn over your monotone delivery of the daily sales,” Morris droned on. “Yoba only knows why. You haven’t been educated at the finest university this side of the Pond with an impeccable taste in... well, everything.” Morris puffed his chest. 

“I just don’t understand why they giggle at the register about the ‘handsome’ stock boy when they could have me recite the daily sales in Shakespearean English for heavens sake. Well, no matter. I can use what I’ve got. You.” 

The man thinks I’m a frickin’ pack of meat. 

“Now in order to have sales, we must have stocked shelves. And in order to have stocked shelves, I need to have you stay longer. Because shelves don’t stock themselves... and what are you staring at?” 

Shane rubbed his jaw, catching his reflection in Morris’ little glasses. Could I really be that handsome? Morris wasn’t wrong. The market had been a little busier than usual in the mornings and around lunchtime. Shane came back from breaks early sometimes because customers “requested” him. He could reach the “tall” shelves. 

But he wasn’t that tall. And most times, he needed a ladder. Unlike Sam. But even Sam told him he had been relegated to “cute” because the female patrons wanted to check out the new guy (on the ladder) because Shane possessed a look of danger and mystery, and had that "hot dad bod."

Like that’s really a thing I wanted! Shane rolled his eyes. It's all a little disgusting. Being oogled. Because what? Dangerous? Dad bod? I’m just me. There was only one gal he wanted checking him out. And he needed to get going if he was going to meet her. 

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“No can do, Boss,” Shane removed his Joja cap and hooked it alongside his apron. “Got plans tonight.” 

“No, no, no,” Morris’ voice grew tight, his eyes becoming tinier. “That won’t do. You must cancel your plans.” 

“Do I get overtime?” Shane asked, half-distracted by the photo occupying the inside of his locker. 

It was the only thing he had ever decorated with at work. A photo of him and Miss Jolly at the Moonlight Jellies festival about a month ago. It was the one time he actually thought he was photogenic. How could he not be happy? With a gorgeous gal by his side, smiling and laughing as the photo was taken, a woman who believed in him, rooted for him, and cared for him. Shane’s expression softened as he thought about how much she had impacted his life. 

“You know what?” Shane ripped the photo from his locker wall with gusto. “I quit.” 

“Are you even listening?” Morris was saying. “And no, I’m not going to approve overtime. You left early by one minute the other night. One minute!"

"And one time last week, you were late by three minutes. I will not approve overtime for someone who nearly runs over a flock of geese with his bicycle and is late to work."

"If you’re going to keep up with this lazy attitude of yours...” he huffed and straightened his jacket. “I may have to reconsider my decision to rehire you... even if you bring in the ladies... I mean... sales...” 

“What?” Morris’ eyes grew wide as saucers beneath his horn-rimmed glasses, and then his expression darkened, as if Shane poured bitter coffee all over the plates. “You cannot quit. Are you joking?” 

“Well I do, and I’m not,” Shane shoved the old rusty lock that never latched properly into the other man’s hand, a smile crossing his face. “With pleasure.”

Shane waltzed out of the soul-sucking store, leaving a dumbfounded former boss as the double doors whooshed behind him. He closed his eyes and took a big gulp of sea-salt air and sighed. He felt free. 

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When she met him at the bus stop, his heart skipped a beat. She looked radiant in the setting sun. Her eyes sparkling like stars. And her sexy little denim skirt was a nice touch too. The way her hips swayed ever so slightly on approach. He forced his gaze upward. 

"Hiiii... Miss Jolly. I'm glad you decided to come," he greeted, his tone a bit stilted and formal. 

What am I doing? He rubbed the back of his head.

"Of course, Peaches. I'm excited," she grinned. "This will be my first game."

"You'll love it!" he replied, wrinkling his nose at her childish nickname for him. And I will too with you by my side.

"Is that cologne?" she asked when she reached his side. 

Her fingers curled around his hoodie strings as she closed her eyes and took a whiff. "I like it." She grinned and winked at him. "A bit spicy."

"Yeah yeah," he murmured and ushered her onto the bus, but he hopped up the step behind her, feeling a little lighter on his feet.

"You're in a good mood," she remarked as they wandered toward the back of the bus. 

The atmosphere was charged. Rowdy. Everyone seemed excited for the Tunnelers game. He nodded to a few familiar faces before settling in next to her seat. The back was better than the front. Cool kids sat in the back. What am I? In the sixth grade? 

Still he was relaxed. Smiling even. She repeated her statement as if he didn’t hear her the first time. Damn straight  I’m in a good mood.  Because I get to spend time with you… maybe even tell you how I feel tonight… He decided the overcrowded bus wasn't the best place for that confession. The vehicle lurched forward and so did the conversation. 

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"I quit my job."

Her eyes widened and a slow smile played at her lips, drawing his attention to them. I bet they're juicy. He had fantasized about kissing her, ever since she planted one on him at this very bus stop twelve months ago when he shipped off to rehab. Out of respect for their “business arrangement” and friendship, he held off on the liplocking, but it didn’t mean he still didn’t wonder what it would be like if he had just turned his head to meet her mouth that night. 

“Good for you,” she laid a hand on his shoulder. 

Her gentle touch bringing him back to reality and away from his lustful la-la land. 

“I knew that place was killing the light in you. I just wish I could've seen Morris' smug face when you finally told him."

"Light in me?" he repeated, ignoring the statement about his ex-manager. 

"Yes," she slowly slid her hand up to his cheek, blushing a little while she moved. "You look better. Brighter."

"That's just the shower talkin'," he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"No, it's you, Shane," she replied, dropping her hand far too soon for his liking.

He wanted to beg her to keep it there, against his cheek. But present company dissuaded him, and he remained silent, nodding his thanks. The way she said his name... he bounced his leg a bit in nervousness as the bus bumped along the road... it made his knees weak and his head clouded. 

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"Did I miss anything?"

Shane descended the last step, returning to their seats in the stadium, snacks in hand. The game was tied up, the teams neck and neck in their scoring with each other. It was one of the most thrilling games he had ever seen in person. Even more exciting because she was there. With her incessant questions about the rules. Her exuberance at the Tunnelers' first goal. Even the little wrinkle around her eyes when she didn’t understand what was happening. He loved every minute of it.

And he loved explaining things. Even if he worried about boring her to death with his encyclopedic knowledge of gridball, he couldn’t stop talking. This was something he loved and he was sharing it with the woman he loved... even if she didn’t know it yet. 

"Only the announcer making bad jokes," she smirked. “And that guy...” she pointed to one of the pros. “...doing a silly little dance for the fans.” 

“Yeah, he’s known for that,” Shane laughed awkwardly, feeling a small twinge of jealousy that another man had caught her eye. 

“Not that he’s any good at it,” she laughed too. “Not like our little grooves in the Saloon.” 

“Oh?” he quirked a brow. “By the way, I got us some nachos. I asked the vendor to add some hot peppers… just like we like it."

"Like we both like it," she said in unison. "Thanks,” she snagged a chip and did a deep dip into the sauce. “You should've let me pay for snacks since you paid for tickets and the bus fare."

"Naw, we're on a date," he shrugged. "The guy pays. Plus, I wanted to."

Shane averted his eyes, suddenly self-conscious. "Did I tell you how much… I l…love…. Gridball?"

She stopped and looked at him as if surprised by his old-fashioned thought. I shouldn't have been so careless, he grimaced. Then he immediately wished his face wasn't so readable.

It was a date. A real date. But somehow they slid from acquaintances to friends to best friends and then... somehow something more, without ever defining the relationship.

Did she want parameters? Did he need a label? Were they... ever going to be what he hoped to be if he ever got his head out of his ass and asked her for real? 

"Yes, only the thousand or so times on the bus," she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I knew you played in high school.” 

Just like that, she slipped back to a more neutral topic. And he mentally flogged himself for the missed opportunity. 

“Yeah, blowing out my knee pretty much killed my chances at playing pro,” he said. “Doesn’t stop me from enjoying the games though.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” she inquired. “Going back. Maybe the minors or even just a pick-up team. I bet you looked great in a uniform,” her eyes twinkled mischievously. “And I wouldn’t mind the view of you in those white pants.” 

Red flooded his cheeks. Is she messing with me? How does she do it? Go back and forth between friendzone topics and flirtation? She made it look effortless. She was toying with him. She had to be. Dancing around the subject. Hoping he would ask. Or was he imagining things? 

Her hand hovered dangerously close to his side. Brushing the hem of her skirt. Nearly touching his shorts. He gulped, feeling flattered, but strangely unprepared for her seductive little smirks. He handed her the soda he fetched, and she thanked him, gulping back the liquid as if it were a small instead of a large. Saying something about all the cheering making her thirsty. 

He was the thirsty one. Eyeing her up and down and wanting to close the distance between them. Taking it from flirty friends to... faithful lovers. He never wanted a woman more than he did right now. To devote all his love and passion and energy and goodwill into being there for her just like she had for him. 

For the whole second half of the game, he nursed his cola. Distracted by her every move. The way she would raise her heels in anticipation of a score and lower them back to the ground when they didn’t quite make it. The way she spoke with that happy voice of hers, the kind that could lull him to sleep or rally him to make his best efforts. The way she repeated back facts she was learning about the sport, that he had literally just taught to her that night. He was completely mesmerized... so much so... he forgot to actually watch the game. For once, he liked the distraction. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the Tunnelers scored again, she nearly flew off the ground, wildly cheering for their unexpected interception. He caught her hand as she was jumping back down. She squeezed it and continued whooping and shaking her fist victoriously in the air, never taking her eyes off the game. It was now or never.

"Hey," he said loudly to be heard over the stadium noise. "I've been meaning to tell you… thank you.” 

“For what, Peaches?” she said, teasingly. “Did you see that? How many yards was it? Seventy-five? Eighty?” 

“I mean it, really,” Shane cleared his throat, leaning closer to her ear. “ For sticking with me through everything."

She turned to face him, her expression growing more serious. 

"My… anxiety… depression… you know," he continued, fumbling over his words. "The alcoholism… I mean, I wasn't exactly the funnest person to be around back then."

Did I just use the word funnest? He rubbed the back of his head, hoping to read her expression, but for once, he couldn't.

“You do that... when you’re nervous,” she remarked. “That head rub thing...” she reached up and ruffled his hair. “It’s... cute.” 

“Uh...” Shane trailed off. She was not making this easy. But he needed to say the words aloud now or he never would. 

"You… uh… still helped me. You've been a really… good… friend to me," he shared, and then immediately regretted his word choice.

"Oh," she said, quietly.

Was that a flicker of disappointment in her eyes?

He hurried his words. "Anyway this is your first gridball game, huh? Well? What do you think?"

Smooth, Shane. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Changing the subject again, you frickin’ chicken.

"Oh…" she said, glancing back to the field, sounding a little confused. "Fun. I guess, Pelican Town seems pretty boring in comparison. Unless you count Sam's punk rock blaring at 11pm, breaking noise ordinances." She forced a chuckle.

Is she…? Am I imagining things?

"I'm surprised," he replied. "Didn't you move to the Valley to escape the noise of the city?"

She's looking at me again with those beautiful heart-melting eyes. He rushed through his words.

"I mean… don't get me wrong. I totally understand. My life in Pelican Town is pretty bland, you know. And now that I don't have a job, I gotta find something meaningful to do with my time again. A guy's gotta eat, right? Heh?"

"I was thinking about that," she replied, without looking at him. "I think it would be nice to have you around full-time."

"What?" he blinked.

"I've got one ranch hand now to help in the back pasture and one that helps out with the milking and all, but if I'm looking to expand, and if they ever take a sick day, I could use some extra hands," she continued. "Maybe your hands?"

I couldn't. Possibly. Was she blushing?

"You've already… done so much for me," he hated the hesitancy in his tone. "I… uh…"

She ignored his last comment. "This would be a business thing. We could do it temporarily to see if you like it. And if it's a good fit for both of us. I can be a bit of a…" she narrowed her eyes, mischievously. "Hard taskmaster."

"Oh? Yeah I've heard that from your current employees," he smirked. "But you are still a jolly one."

"Yeah…" she smiled, almost shyly, tucking a hair over her ear. “Your Miss Jolly.” 

The noise level in the stadium increased near ten-fold. All he could think about was how she said the words. She was begging him, wasn’t she? Walking right up to the brink and leaving him there? He reluctantly ripped his gaze away from the farmer to the field.

"Gah!" he screamed, his volume matching the crowd. "The Tunnelers are on the attack."

"Yes! Yes!" she shrieked. "Oh my Yoba! Final seconds. They're gonna…" she jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "They're gonna break the tie."

"GOAL!" they yelled in unison. 

He never felt so happy. He was going on six months sober. He quit his horrible job. The farmer was offering him another one so he could see her every day. And he got to watch his favorite team in the world in the closest game in history with his favorite person in the world. Sharing this moment together meant everything.

"Thank you Shane!" she said, trying to catch her breath. "This was the best evening ever with you!"

"I know, I know!" he exclaimed. "Probably one of the best moments of my life."

Before he could stop himself, his lips were against hers. Surprise flickered in her eyes. All he could hear was the thudding of his own heart. She was flushed. The warmth of her lips. The taste of root beer. The delight overwhelming the alarm bells. He took a step or two back, stumbling as he came to his senses.

"Oh?" he gasped for air. "Uh… um… sorry. I guess I got carried away there. Maybe I had one too many... sodas. All that sugar. Ha!" 

Shane reached up to rub his head like he always did when he was nervous, just like she had noticed. Except this time, she strutted toward him, confidence in her eyes as she grabbed that hand and tugged him down. As they kissed for the second time, he felt her melt into his arms as she offered a faint “finally,” barely audible amidst the roar of the crowd. 

Encouraged, Shane grinned, hoisting her off the ground. She giggled and kissed him more fervently. Maybe he didn’t need words. Maybe he only needed actions to show her how he felt. 

And she was reciprocating. A dream come true. Their eyes remained locked in a loving gaze as he pulled back from her lips. When he finally set her down, he breathed heavily. 

"You really do love the Tunnelers?" she teased, disentangling her hands from his hair. 

"No," he shook his head, determined not to let this moment go by. "I really do love you."

"Come on, we'll miss our bus outta here," she grabbed his hand and pulled him through the exiting crowds.

“Wait,” Shane pulled her back for one more greedy kiss. 

She happily accepted, but he felt a fleeting ping of sadness even as they kissed in the stairwell, people pushing around them. He wondered if she even heard his confession. Maybe it's too soon? We just had our first kiss. She probably didn't hear me.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they reached the parking lot, the reality of what had just happened still sinking in, they were too late. The bus huffed away with a puff of smog. They had just missed their ride back to the Valley. And there wouldn’t be another one until morning. If he hadn’t been so carried away and enamored by his date, maybe they would’ve left the stadium sooner. 

“Guess we should call a taxi,” she broke the silence first. “Or... actually... find a hotel.” 

“A hotel?” he repeated, his ears perking at the thought of sharing space with her. 

"Yes," she replied, without skipping a beat. "I mean, if we're gonna be stuck together in Zuzu overnight, we should get a hotel. A taxi ride would be really expensive and I don't think we have enough time to get across town to catch the train."

"Oh right," he said softly. "Uh… I can't let you pay for a hotel too."

"It's no trouble," she pulled out her cell phone and started scouring the internet for places. "And a hot shower sounds nice after all the sweat and grime of us in there,” she nodded back toward the stadium. “...jammed in like sardines."

"Uhm…" he blinked rapidly. You're a grown man. Get it together.

"This place looks nice," she showed him a picture after a minute or two, while he awkwardly plopped on the edge of the sidewalk. "And it's got a 4-star rating." She sat next to him, dropping her hand on top of his. “Oh look it’s got an in-suite jacuzzi.” 

"Uh… sure," he shrugged, uncertain about what to do with his hands that so desperately wanted to kiss her again. "Well, that definitely was a good game."

"Yes, and it's going to be an even better night, because it doesn't have to end here," she smiled sweetly. “Since we’re getting a hotel,” she winked. 

“Oh yeah... and we won too,” he stammered. “The Tunnelers, ya know?” 

“No... no, I didn’t. Really? They did?" she smiled sarcastically, and leaned closer. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“What?” he gasped, feeling shocked as her blase attitude toward his favorite team. 

“I mean, it was great... and all... and their win was pretty spectacular,” she acknowledged. “But I feel like I won the lottery with you here.” She interlocked arms with him. “Did you mean it? Shane? When you said you loved me?” 

So she did hear me! And the way his name fell from his lips caused his heart to soar and he found his confidence. 

“Yes, I meant it. I love you,” Shane replied. “But I wanted it to be special. Better than this... stranded in a parking lot with trash all over the place.” 

“It is special,” she replied. 

“But it wasn’t perfect,” he grimaced. “I was planning on telling you when we got back... when I walked you back to your place tonight.” 

His head felt hazy with love and desire as she kissed him again. This time, she draped a leg over his, pressing against his chest. He audibly moaned, leaning into the kiss. His hand naturally slid down her back to help her balance, and he squeezed softly, like he had wanted to for a long time. She matched his intensity with a clutch of her own, and he groaned again, reluctantly breaking their touch. 

“I don’t need perfect, Shane. I just need you."

His heart leaped from his chest as she continued.

"I love you too. I want you.”  

“Ahhhh... then let’s get to that hotel,” he said, the heat of her breasts against his chest creating a near uncontrollable fire within him. 

“Fine,” she playfully pouted. “I’ll behave... Hot Stuff," she fanned herself. “...for now... since we’re in public.” 

“Believe me,” he replied with a heavy sigh, feeling a healthy growth between his legs. “I want you all to myself.” 

She giggled and tapped her phone. "Done. Got us booked.”

“That fast?” 

“Yes, It’s only a two and a half block walk. Now… shall we?" She jumped to her feet and darted away briskly. 

“Someone’s impatient!” he smirked. “What if I had said no?” 

“I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” 

“Oh really?” he liked teasing her as she brought out his confidence. He started into a jog away, passing her on the sidewalk. “Well, I’ll see you soon.” 

“Shane!” she laughed and chased after him. 

Of course, he let her catch him. She playfully punched his arm, but then lingered. She was beaming. And he was too. Shane took her hand, looking down at the woman he loved, and smiled, brighter than he ever had in his entire life.  She loved him and wanted him… just as he loved and wanted her. 

 “Shane?”

He wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulder. Tonight, he was going to make her fully his, and he would be fully hers. 

"Yes, my Miss Jolly.” 

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Hi! Cause you forced me to acknowledge how many damn WIPs I have (rude) I shall now send you an ask about yours 😌 So I'm gonna be super shameless and predictable and ask about that one Spite Lucanis x Rook fic I spy in there 👀👀👀

from this tumblr game thank you!! :)

ahahahaha well. this was indeed a character exploration about Spite's involvement in Rook/Lucanis' relationship but uhhhhhhh taken to the logical and less favorable conclusion than i have seen in fanfic so far, hence the word "interruption" in the title 😂 posting a longer snippet because... really i've just been writing random scenes for their relationship and am not sure if/when/how i will structure it into fanfic yet (handful of one shots? a longer thing? i am so low on free time though 😭 idk)

timing is after the romance lock-in but before the act 3 romance scene, so Rook & Lucanis are together as a couple but haven't slept together yet... though they may have been heading that way before Spite decided to get involved. under a readmore for length!

STOP, Spite suddenly roars, surging forward from the back of Lucanis’ awareness. The demon’s wings burst forth, their first downward stroke hard enough that it sends him reeling backwards, away from Rook. “What?” he cries, and “—what?” Rook echoes in sudden alarm, as their bodies tumble apart, Lucanis barely managing to throw out an arm to brace his fall as he crashes to the stone floor of the pantry. His feet tangle in his discarded waistcoat and trousers as he leaps back to his feet, nearly sending him to the floor for a second time.

He looks around wildly, for the attackers or whoever else is responsible for Spite’s sudden disquiet. But there is no one. No demons, no Antaam pulled into the Fade, not even one of their companions wandering too close on accident. He fumbles at the table for one of his knives anyway, trying to listen, to figure out where the danger is coming from. “What’s going on? Spite, what happened?!”  There, Spite says, all calm satisfaction now. If you kept going. She would have come. Now she wants more. “She—excuse me? Spite, what are you talking about?” Lucanis demands. She will think about you all night now, the demon replies happily. If you kept going. It would have been over. “I—why would you do that?! That’s not how it works!” “What’s he saying? What’s going on?” Rook stands in front of the bed, frantically staring around too, searching for enemies that clearly never existed. Her hair is still rumpled from where his hands had tangled in it, her breaths still coming fast and heavy.  He cannot believe he has to not only sit here, disgraced and ashamed, but he is left alone in actually explaining what’s happened. “Mierda. He did it on purpose. He thinks it’s—fun. To stop us.” He presses a hand over his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Spite—ohhh. Oh.” “I’m going to kill him,” Lucanis says flatly. “I’m going to take myself out back and—” I’m RIGHT, Spite howls in defiance, baring his teeth inches from Lucanis’ face. Despite himself, he flinches back. You wanted. Her to think about you. MORE! “No, stop that, it’s fine,” Rook tries to soothe him, her hands scrabbling to re-fasten her tunic around her waist. As though this catastrophe is something she can just brush off. “I guess we should figure out, uh, how Spite—how you and he—” “I can’t talk about this,” he mutters into his palm as he drags his hand down his face, dropping to sit back down on the cot again.. “This is not happening.” He knew Spite was a part of him. He was resigned to his presence, was growing used to the new precautions his life involved. He even, though he hated to admit it to himself, enjoyed the extra momentum and power the demon brought when they fought against enemies. What he hadn’t considered was the demon barging into the personal, intimate—   You did it BEFORE, the demon sulks. And it WORKED. She wanted to kiss you more because you stopped. “That was different,” he snaps in response. He ignores Rook’s baffled expression at his half of the conversation.  “I mean—he is Spite,” I guess, Rook acknowledges. “Uh, maybe I should leave you two to talk about this together?”

Panic surges in his chest, as he bites back his urge to shout No! at the suggestion. But she doesn’t deserve to half-witness the mess of the argument he’s already having. He was an idiot. He should never have assumed something might be going right in his life for once. “I don’t even know what to say to him,” he can’t help saying in exasperation. “He doesn’t listen, just does—whatever he wants.” What YOU wanted! You SAID it! I was only HELPING. “Well. You said you didn’t have much experience with, um, relationships—” “I don’t think this counts as the kind of experience anyone has, Rook,” Lucanis responds, dropping his head into his hands again, elbows resting on his knees. “I can’t exactly stop him from—he sees what I see. What I… feel.” Admitting it fills him with shame. He should have told her before this. Whether or not she’s guessed, there’s no avoiding it now, or pretending anything in his life could ever again be normal. Simple.  “No, I just meant��maybe try to explain it to him, is all.” Rook sighs, and he can hear the shift of fabric over skin as she tugs her clothing back into place. He wonders if she can see the bright flush of shame to his skin behind his hands. “He’s only got your memories for how to interpret the world,” she continues. “Maybe he… misunderstood something.” He doesn’t want to tell her that Spite probably understood more than he did himself. Lucanis certainly hadn’t realized just how close she’d been to—he shakes his head to clear away the thought.  “You two will figure this out,” Rook says, with a firm conviction he does not mirror. She leans forward and kisses the top of his head, but he can’t bring himself to raise his face to meet her gaze. “I’ll see you at dinner later.” He hears her soft footsteps pad to the door, and slip away, out of the kitchen and back to the other parts of the Lighthouse. Maybe if he never leaves the pantry, he won’t ever have to think about this again. Maybe she’ll forget the whole thing ever happened.  Won’t forget, Spite cackles gleefully. Definitely. Won’t forget.

[jolalibrary]

Hi Jo!

How did you get into writing fanfic?

I’m sorry I’ve sat on this for so long, but I wanted to make sure I answered it with the full attention it deserves. I apologise for the length 😂.

I began this as to how, but then also why? and it got long.

warnings for: jo being overly open, sharing things she doesn’t usually, mentions of mental health, mention but not discussion of sexual trauma poor sleep, and again, oversharing. I don’t think I’ve been this open ever, so be gentle with me.

so, I began writing fanfic in 2015. I discovered it on accident, I was doom scrolling on Pinterest, trying to see if I could make some tree decorations in an insomnia bout (because I’d already completed TLOU - irony I know) and discovered a fanfic.

and I was lost in it, 200k deep and then I read another, and another, and I don’t know why I had an idea to attempt to write my own, but I did, and I poured all of my pain into it. (I eventually took this fic down because it was so freaking personal and painful to have up - and it’s still shared now by several people which irks me a lot). but god at the time? it healed me. and it brought me two people who I still talk to to this day, even if we don’t live in the same timezone.

I stayed in that fandom until 2018 when I left and continued only writing for daredevil (which id joined in like 2016).

and then in 2019 I stopped all together due to bad mental health, and just personal things in my life (I really wasn’t doing that well and wanted a bit of a reset).

it was then I began writing an original story. working on it obsessively, eventually shaping it to show some agents at a writing festival in 2020 (virtually, cause of the rona). and it was good, I met with three and two of them loved it. i had amazing feedback, including requests, and I should have been happy, right?

well, I FREAKED out. my little romcom could be something? I sobbed, I broke down, I couldn’t get out of bed for two days and I was a mess.

now, the reasons as to why, is still fuzzy to me. but I assume it’s because all of my life I’d truly believed that Im not good at anything. and writing was this one thing I had to myself, that I shared but never expected anything. and then, suddenly there was expectations, and the reality that people had read it—people who could do things with it, terrified me.

their nice words had weight, meaning? and yet they felt like iron pokers against my skin. even through therapy I don’t like delving into the why’s the what’s, but I assume it’s a combination of lack of self belief and the foundation I’m built on (and why I struggle with compliments) but also the fact it went from a hobby to something that could be something. and I think I freaked at it.

from here, my mental health took a big hit, I was so anxious I couldn’t leave the house and by the end of that year I was back to where I was in 2019, but if anything, much worse?

I didn’t know who I was. all the trauma i thought I’d healed from, rose up inside of me and it took me ages to finally be able to even think about writing again. I was broken. reset to more than factory settings because I couldn’t even recall what I liked? what I loved (outside of my husband and dog). I was a shadow wandering around, going from appointment to appointment.

and then, because he’s an amazing soul, my husband suggested I write fanfic again. start again, try. and I did. I potted around under a different name and then in 2022 i grabbed mvtthewmurdvck back, and I came back through call of duty.

by the end of that year, I found narcos 💁‍♀️ (javi supremacy) and here we are, 2024.

I say a lot that writing saved me, and it literally did.

and I rarely share all of this, but I’m not ashamed of my story, but sometimes I feel I should have been stronger?

but actually, I’m strong for getting up even when I was knocked down. I rebuilt, I reshaped and I discovered threads in myself I’d never known was there. and that took guts.

I was able to discover my sex drive, a thing I’ve struggled with (even in my loving and brilliant relationship) after some trauma when I was 15 with my boyfriend at the time (iykyk). I was able to write scenarios that I could then bring into my own life, and I wrote an entire fic (ILTWY) that helped me discover that I actually love sex. that I love pleasure in all its forms.

I was able to find my heart again, and write a romcom that made me find people I couldn’t be without now, but also, show myself that I can still write a romcom, and that thing in 2020 was just a blip, it wasn’t a sign and it wasn’t a thing that would define me.

and, even now, while I’m struggling to even smile, and I cried putting my eyebrows on this morning, I wrote my feelings out into a Drabble I’m not sure if I’ll share, that made me feel like I could go to work today and cope.

I say that notes and things aren’t my focus here, but never really explained why, but this, all above, is why. writing is there for me, it’s a crutch, it’s a saviour when the world feels too much. it was a thing that I lived without for a short period, but when I came back to it, it was like returning home.

and the best part? I get to share my words with you, I get to think “maybe this will resonate with people” and find that sometimes, it does. I get to be a comfort, to make someone smile, to make you laugh or even make you feel a little horny hahahah. and that means MORE to me, because when I was lost, afraid and terrified of the voice in my head, someone else’s words did that for me. they held me close, they helped me stop and pause and take a breath.

and that’s how I got into writing fanfic, and why it will forever be something special to me.

an: I haven’t edited this, and I’m shaking, so if there’s spelling mistakes, ignore.

[vellaphoria]

for the ask game… 30?

(also I know this isn’t on the list but is there any WIP you’re super excited about?)

Thanks for the ask! (and for the freeform question giving me the opportunity to rant about my WIPs! <3 ) 30. Biggest surprise while writing this year? I have a different answer for this one here, but I wrote a second answer since it occurred to me a bit earlier lol The most surprising thing was that in the middle of writing a DickTim oneshot, some random implied BruDick UST got in there somehow?? Which was surprising because I've never written brudick and don't generally read it. But the fic is going to do what the fic is going to do, I suppose 😂 Is there any WIP you’re super excited about? Absolutely!! One that I've been actively stopping myself from publishing parts of is the slowburn DickTim fic that I'm working on. It started as a oneshot of the two of them being stuck in a snowstorm together post Red Robin and having to work their shit out (and there was only one bed lol). Then it became a 5 + 1 of times they had shared beds. Aaaaand then it became a slowburn covering the arc of their relationship from A Lonely Place of Dying to post-RR. It's completely gone off the rails lol. The exact number keeps changing, but this thing currently has 60 planned chapters. I've written 65k words of it and it's probably not even a quarter done. But!! As I've been writing, I've also been re-visiting post-crisis comics with the two of them in it, which is fun since I haven't really taken the time to do that chronologically before. Excerpt from Chapter 2:

For the hundredth time that night, Dick looks at the last picture ever taken of him and his parents. It had arrived at the manor a week after he’d been moved in, sent in the mail by the couple who’d asked to have it taken. The edges are a bit worn, but he’s kept it out of the light and done everything he could to make sure that the colors don’t fade.

What would they want him to do?

He’s been turning that question over in his mind for hours now and he still isn’t sure. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to be sure…

They’d always told him that kids didn’t really run away to the circus anymore, but on the off-chance that one did, then the best thing to do was to be kind. Anyone running away like that was dealing with something serious in their life, and it was the right thing to do to try and find a way to help.

He can’t help but laugh a little, under his breath. From hypothetical runaway kids to whatever animals wandered through Haly’s looking for food and shelter, his parents had always had a soft spot for strays.

Not that this kid counts as a stray, exactly. Or that he ran away to join the circus.

Honestly it would be easier if he had.

The windows are a bit grimy from everyone who’s used this trailer over the years, but faint moonlight still shines through. Just enough of it to illuminate the rise and fall of the blankets on Dick’s bed.

A few days ago, he’d expected to spend most of his weekend helping out around Haly’s and prepping for the Saturday and Sunday night shows. Being ambushed by an over-eager kid from Gotham who looks like he weighs about ninety pounds soaking wet hadn’t been anywhere near his radar.

If he was in the Manor, he could have just relegated the kid to one of the many guest rooms. But if he was in the Manor, then the kid wouldn’t have felt the need to come looking for him, would he?

He sighs, letting his head fall back against the chair that he’d squeezed into the too-small space of the trailer. He tries not to wish Roy were here to offer him the strongest drink he could scare up.

On the bed, the kid shifts in his sleep, turning over. His face holds nothing of the frantic, intense expression he’d first come to Dick with, asking him to go back to Gotham.

And talk to Bruce. And be Robin again.

As if he hadn’t left that all behind him for good reasons.

As if Bruce hadn’t been very clear that he doesn’t need or want a partner ever again.

Maybe the kid would be less keen on the idea of Dick going back if he told him that Bruce erased every last trace of the last Robin from the Manor and Cave. Or if he told the kid that the large, dark bruise on his face was from Bruce’s fist. Then again… maybe he already knows? The little stalker broke into Dick’s apartment and rifled through his memories of better times. Despite being a teenager with no apparent training outside of what are probably judo lessons, he managed to take clear, distressingly up-close pictures of the goddamn Batman. He outright admitted that he knows who they are.

Dick’s not sure what to do about that. Anyone who knows their identities is a risk. And yet, this kid was able to figure it out… admittedly through means that wouldn’t be apparent to anyone who wasn’t as weirdly obsessed with his civilian persona as this kid seems to be. Even so, it’s dangerous to have people out there who know. What’s stopping some villain from snatching the kid off the street and making him talk?

He closes his eyes, one hand rubbing circles against his temple as he tries to will away the oncoming headache.

That’s reason enough to bring him to Bruce for questioning, even if he wasn’t right about Bruce going off the deep end. Even if every step Dick has taken to try and stop Bruce from spiraling has been rebuffed. Sometimes violently.

When his eyes open again, the kid is staring back at him. His blue irises are even harder to miss in the moonlight.

“I… um. Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” he asks. “I don’t mind sleeping in the chair…”

It’s not the first time tonight Dick has wondered if he should have just driven them directly to Gotham, despite the setting sun and the likelihood of catching Bruce in the volatile post-patrol fugue that has become all too common with the man these days.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I don’t sleep much anyway.”

The kid’s eyes get a little wider. A little brighter.

“Because of N-”

“Yes,” Dick says, cutting him off a bit more sharply than he intended.

If the kid notices, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he nods solemnly, as if Dick had just confirmed every suspicion he ever had about the way the world works.

His eyes are still wide though. Dick remembers them being the first thing he clocked about the kid. Blue eyes. Lighter than his, but darker than Bruce’s. More of a grey-blue, compared to the near-teal that Jason’s had been.

Blue eyes. Black hair. Asking about Batman.

The kid’s a walking bad omen. And Dick doesn’t need to be a detective to see the pattern here. If he brings this kid to Bruce and they actually manage to get him out of his funk, then…

“Hey, kid,” he says.

“Tim,” the kid says back to him. He doesn’t look particularly put out by Dick not remembering his name.

“Okay, Tim. Where are your parents?”

Tim blinks at him. “Somewhere in the Gobi Desert. Or, they were there last week, at least.”

Dick is so distracted by the fact that the kid has living parents, and thus no need for a new guardian, that it takes him a moment to register what the kid actually said.

“Wait, if they’re in the Gobi Desert…”

“I’m in boarding school,” Tim volunteers. “We’re on break right now, so I was able to sneak out.”

“And come… here?”

Tim nods.

“Because someone had to tell you that Ba-” he jumps at Dick narrowing his eyes, “that Bruce has been getting worse. He needs help. He needs Robin.”

As if Dick doesn’t know. Then again, maybe his inaction looks like ignorance to this kid who traveled to another state at the drop of a hat to help someone he met once as a toddler. He’s not sure if the kid’s rose-colored glasses are because of his age or because he doesn’t know Bruce personally. Or, more likely, both.

“That doesn’t change anything,” he says. “I can’t be Robin again.”

Tim stares back at him guilelessly. “Why not?”

Now that’s a question.

“You think I’d still fit in those scaly panties?” Dick says, smiling humorlessly and side-stepping anything resembling a real answer.

Tim flushes. “Um… no. I guess not.”

“Exactly.”

“But… someone has to do something.”

“I’m going to do something, but it has nothing to do with being Robin.” Dick says. “I’m going to try to talk him down. Again. If even people outside the community are starting to notice Bruce’s… coping mechanisms, then we’ve got a problem. Hopefully he’ll be able to see that.”

Tim smiles, though just a little.

“Thank you,” he says, as if Dick is doing him a personal favor.

Part of him wants to tell the kid not to get his hopes up. But… he’ll know soon enough. And far be it from Dick to crush what little optimism the kid’s likely to have about the situation.

[gioiaalbanoart]

Writing interview tag!

Triple tag, so...I'm going to do this 😁

Thank you @moltenwrites 💗 @aintgonnatakethis 💗 and @the-letterbox-archives 💗

A couple of things : I'm an artist too so I might end up doing some parallels between painting and writing. Also....I usually talk A LOT 😁 but tend do be pretty dry in writing, so I might cut it short on certain answers

About me

When did you start writing?

Since I was in elementary school and I learned letters, probably. I used to draw/fake-writing "comics" even before.

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

I don't have genres neither in reading or writing. Maybe themes ? Existential, spirituality, some kind of magic, investigation, love?

In fact what suits me the best is the follow : if I love the characters I go everywhere.

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

Compared? (laughs) No way! Salinger was probably a God. I still like Isabel Allende and there are for sure many others that right now I don't remember (also italian and french authors since I speak those languages , for instance Camilleri and Japrisot ). The list would be veeeeeery long.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

A table. A need a table, and a chair or something I can sit on. And even so I tend to take weird postures.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I don't think I have a specific way. Sometimes just the Goddesses know where the muse is!

BUT I'm stubborner so I sit at my computer anyway or I wander around faking tiding the studio (if I'm gonna do art) and at some point she usually shows up.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?

Probably somehow they're there. More at an emotional level I would say. Like I might write something completely unrelated (which is what I do) but I can connect the dots in terms of perceptions, sensations, emotions.

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?

Surprise? No. It's pretty much the same old same old for me 😂 both in writing and painting : healing, recovery,evolution,some kind of spirituality and soul magic.

Characters:

would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

It's easy 😂 I mainly have ONE and she's pestering me about focusing on her story. Ashley Knox from my wip The scarred angel.

The title was suppose to be temporary but I got used to it and I'm lazy to find something else 😎. Oh and I'm generally BAD at titles, I have the same problem for my paintings.

Ashley is a stunning beautiful girl with scars all over her face since she was sixteen and a bit of a temper.

She has to investigate about something happening mainly along the mexican border which means dealing with a pretty violent world, drug cartels and so on.

Amy Salinas, journalist with PTSD, will stuck with her, becoming first a friend than a significant other....at some point.

Ashley has also intention to take her revenge against who scarred her.

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

I would definitely be friend with Ashley! Just I'll make her come here….it's a bit safer than where she lives.

which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?

Well, the one who scarred Ashley probably. He will be the worst in my wip....even if, by the time I'll be finished, I'm afraid there will be a few.

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

LOL. There is no process.... They come in my brain and decide to stay there until I consider writing their story. Ones are more stubborn than others and those generally win.

Also they usually come (Ashley did) quite "completed", it's their story that I have to develop and then they grow and become wider and deepest characters. Like : when they arrive and squat my brain they don't say it all right away, I have to find out by myself.

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

I would say polarities and some kind of spirituality and personal moral code. then they heal, or grow or both.

How do you picture your characters? 🤔 I listen when they talk….then I try to figure how bloody hell I'm going to show their actions to the world 😁

My writing:

what’s your reason for writing?

I use to say that painting for me is like walking, I don't think about it, it comes naturally, it's just there. It was there even during the fifteen years I didn't paint at all. Writing on the opposite is much more complex for me, I struggle more and is more related to a personal healing process. The more I dig in a story, whatever the story is, the more I actually connect my own dots, I see a path and then go further, it's like evolving in the process for many different reasons but with the explaining part, since I use words. And it never goes straight from point A to point B, damn it!

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

All of them, really. I get all emotional 😅 My problem is I have to make a REAL EFFORT to let the comment sink in....I'm still pretty hard to myself when it comes to writing and I don't believe fully the good comments. I'm trying to get better 😁

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Jeez, I don't know. A badass ? 😂 If I surprise them in a good way it's all good.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Maybe dialogues. I enjoy my characters talking .

What have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

Oh dear,I don't have the answer. I recently wrote something pretty hard topic and apparently all the emotions I wanted put in went through ....so I'll take that.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I'm happy, it will get better, I want to have fun with it.

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?

Oh yeah, and painting too. You never know....

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

This is a good one! I would be lying if I say that sometimes other possible opinions (it's always all in our head!) never cross my minds trying to influence me.

But I'm also happy to say that I discharge the idea off quite easily now and just go on my way. Otherwise I would certainly ending to block myself completely. I know, I did it already.

I feel the unbalance in my body and soul and it doesn't click so it usually "dissolve" pretty quick.

Fluffy NP tag (and sorry if I double tag !! ) because I'm really curious and I don't think I already read them for this particular game : @alinacapellabooks @fortunatetragedy @lavender-gloom @lychhiker-writes @saturnine-saturneight @words-after-midnight @noxxytocin + OPEN TAG FOR ALL and a drink too 🍻 🍻🍻

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 13: Lunette 🌙

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Lunette (n.)

any of various objects or spaces of crescent-like or semicircular outline or section; the figure or shape of a crescent moon

(in the plane of a wall) an area enframed by an arch of vault

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Funny, one of few times I manage to get the artwork for the day posted before dark, it's the moon-adjacent mandala. 😂

Not that I'm complaining—The sooner I can get these posted in the day the better, and this is probably one of my new favorites, anyway!

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk more about my thoughts/process. ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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Once again we have proof that I do not make a habit of looking ahead on the prompt list like I maybe should. 😅

If anyone remembers: I specifically chose white lines for yesterday's mandala because I wanted to break from how much I've been using the black ones. While the mandala turned out fine—great, even!—had I looked ahead and noticed today's word first, I probably would've let bygones be bygones and stuck with black lines...Because here's a very good excuse for white lines right here!

So much so that you can see I went with the white lines anyway...and once again didn't even bother to check what's on the list for tomorrow, so we may be in for a string of white-line mandalas yet. 🫣

Nevertheless, this one is more of a mixed bag for me than I expected. Despite my failure to look ahead and see when it was coming up, I was pretty excited to get to this word. It's one of my favorites that made the list and very early on I got the idea of these 4-point crescent moons to base the rest of the mandala around, and the color scheme was one of the no-brainer ones: Night sky colors! Though I did push myself to shift the hues so it would be at least a little different from Day 1 and Day 10 (mostly Day 1, though).

So why is it a mixed bag, then? Mostly because once I got my 4 "focus" crescents down and some "foundation" borders, I was sort of at loss for how to fill the rest of the space. 😅

The natural choice of course was to use a lot of crescent shapes—And I tried to!—But the question was more of how to use them without it feeling...I guess forced? is the right word? Or, perhaps I mean without it feeling like the goal was to literally just get as many crescent shapes in there as possible with not real rhyme or reason to the design.

I wanted the design to still feel intentional and, y'know, designed.

Through that, I supposed in a sense I started taking inspiration from a little of all phases of the moon, not just the crescent shape. I didn't go out of my way to feature shapes that look like other phases, but I think that's why after a certain point I was in the mood to add so many plain white dots—They spoke to the full moon shining in my subconscious.

Also worth noting that I was able to start on this one before I went to bed, so for once it's not like I didn't have time to consider my choices and moves as I made them.

And I do really love how this came out as an art piece; My quibbles lie in wondering if this is really the best I could do with "crescent shape, like the moon" as my theme.

I suppose maybe it is since this what came out when I let my mind and pen wander and even as I was finishing it up and acknowledging my uncertainties, nothing better or ways to improve it was coming to mind. Even now, having had a little time away from it and more time to think, I can't say I've really thought of different outcomes I think I'd feel more sure of!

In any case, at least this one was ultimately more simple to pull together, so even if I'm not 100% confident in how well it sticks to the theme, I can at least identify that's what my problem is—Rather than thinking I might be unhappy with the outcome because it gave me a headache or something like that (as has happened before).

Let's see...I think I just want to make one last note that technically the definition for this word should have "[architecture]" at the beginning of the second bullet point. However, I left it out for the art piece because A. this definition was already one of the longer ones and therefore taking up more of my workable space/looking a bit cluttered, and B. based on the rest of what that bullet point says I feel the fact that it's referring to architectural use is pretty heavily implied.

And also technically I think there are a couple more "subset" definitions for this word, but these are the two that came up most often and most readily when I was putting the list together, so I opted to stop there.

Oh, and this one should be getting posted actually during daylight hours this time—I feel there's a bit of irony that the moon-adjacent word turns out that way, meanwhile a lot of the others are relegated to nighttime. 😅 But hey, I'm not complaining because the earlier I can get each one posted, the more time I have to do other things before I have to start on the next one!

That said, I think that's all I have for you today, Sparklers. So now you know what time it is for me—Cross-posting time! 🙃

See ya tomorrow! 👋

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See the Prompt List

Artwork © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[allmightskitten]

Hey! Thanks for tagging me in the WIP post! I don't have a lot of active WIPs, myself -- it takes me approximately 90 years to finish writing anything, so all I've got at the moment is the 100k+ BNHA fic I've been working on literally since before I even started One Piece lol 😅😅 -- but I'm having so much fun reading through all your ideas! They all sound fantastic (and honestly, I love your writing so much that I would happily read anything you wrote), but I'm maybe the most interested in the Water 7 romance dawn trio fic! I just adore those three in any setting, and I just made it to Water 7 in my first read-through of the manga, so I guess I've got it in my head. 😅 I'll admit, though, I'm also a bit too intrigued by the Sabo/Koala fic; why *is* Caesar Clown the only other character tagged...? 👀 (and, perhaps more importantly, will I regret asking lol? 😅🤣)

Once again, thanks for the tag! I'm always happy to tune in for some more snippets of your writing! 😄💗

Ooh, I didn't know you were into BNHA, we have that fandom in common 😳

Thank you, talking about these WIPs is a lot of fun so I love to get into them a little more :') Funny thing about that Water 7 fic specifically is that I made the silly goose decision to write it on the ao3 editor and ended up not saving a backup copy before it expired, so I've lost MOST of it 😭😭😭 BUT! But that ISN'T dissuading me, this is still a fic I plan on getting done someday!! I got an ask from @saraptor-art about this one too, I'll scavenge my files for a decent snippet from the little that I could salvage and share it in that ask, but until then– let me share a few more details about the fic!

The idea is that the Straw Hats get to spend an extra day in Water 7 before their adventures there canonically start (I mean, if you pretend there's a little gap in the timeline, it *could* be canon compliant...), where Luffy goes on ahead as usual to see what adventures the new island offers, without consulting anyone or sticking around for a plan to be made. Zoro goes after him WITHOUT CONSULTING ANYONE, with a undeservedly confident "It's fine I'll bring him back" which means a sensible member of the crew now needs to go retrieve them both. That ends up being Nami, who finds Zoro first and promptly realises she lost his ass again just as soon as she finds Luffy. There are some mini adventures from there that were mostly an excuse for me to explore what I think Water 7 is like beyond what we see of it in the animanga! BTW, they do find Zoro again, he's part of some of it before he inevitably wanders off a second time. Nami also has an agenda on the side to map out the city itself when she realises the official map is so poorly done it's aggravating XD

The Caesar Clown question!!!😂😂 okay, it's definitely a little cursed that he's there. It's in the vein of him discovering that there are "spies" aboard this ship and making a huge fuss getting everyone involved and leading them to what he thinks are definitely spies looking for their secrets...hint hint, everyone ends up seeing something they probably wish they didn't. Or maybe some did, a few of these unnamed characters are nasty.

Thank you again for your ask!! I'm going to go see what I can salvage from the wreckage...👀

[desolateice]

☉

what do you do when you get stuck writing? (from this ask game) Rubber Ducky Sometimes I just complain and talk about whatever the issue is and it works itself out while I'm talking. I think that's the rubber ducky method, which is why I've got a bazillion little plushies around so I can snag one and talk to it when I don't want to bother people. Switch WIP's. Once upon a time I tried to complete fanfics before starting a new one, but that was fine back when I wrote one fic for a fandom and then peaced out. Now I write a lot and want to write more so I juggle them around when i get stuck or realize I need to do a lot more research (cough the Johnny/Tommy fic cough) Sometimes by the time I recrack open the fic it's a lot easier. But it helps if I left myself notes. Skipping around using brackets So there's this idea that you should use the things you put off using, eat the things you want to eat and stop saving things for special moments. Which I suck at. I say this with a bright pink jackolantern on my desk full of treats I've squirreled away that I'm saving for a moment to try them or as a notebook hoarder.

But I've gotten better about this with writing. If there's a scene I really want to write I'll put brackets for whatever I need to come back and do so that I don't forget it, though sometimes I do this when I'm super tired and don't want to forget my ideas [Johnny and Daniel drive to Jersey and Johnny learns what a pain in the ass driving in winter is and Daniel is full of himself about it but also forgets he's not used to driving in a city/let alone on ice anymore and they safely crash into a snow drift] I dunno, something like that and then skip to whatever happened next that I wanted to write. It kind of helps and it seems like it wouldn't be easier to go back and fill in those gaps, but sometimes it is. And sometimes when I think there aren't any it's a pain because I thought it was done and it wasn't 😂 Do something else [shower] 🚿

Sometimes you gotta do something else physically and let your brain wander. I cross-stitch and embroider sometimes and I'll do this repetitive thing that requires me to physically be doing something and sometimes it'll jog something in the fic I got stuck with. Another good one is generally taking a walk but I'm like so bad at that, I'm not good with just wandering around without purpose 😅 I want to go somewhere and look at something or have someone to talk to so it doesn't quite work for me, but doing the dishes or cleaning or cooking or my tried and true method, taking a shower generally does it. I shower probably way too much that it's now like part of my daily routine like having a cup of coffee in the morning, taking a shower before bed lets me relax and also figure out whatever was stuck. Go go go pomodoro! 🍅 Sometimes people work really well under pressure and I...oh sometimes I work really well under pressure. 😂💀 So a pomodoro is a little tomato kitchen timer, and essentially you time yourself. You can pick the length and you just focus completely on that one task until your time is up. Like here: https://pomofocus.io/ is a timer that focus's on this task. It generally works better if you have someone else doing it with you. So a writer whose interview I watched last year said that every morning she and her friend set their computers down on their kitchen tables, call one another and sync their timers and write. And I find when I do this, the sort of stressors of that timer makes me skip all the stuff I generally worry about. Spelling, grammar, things I'd normally puzzle over that slow down my writing and I just go go go. It also stops me from like diving down rabbit holes for research which I do...frequently. 😂 Sometimes it's also called sprinting. Thank you for the ask! 💖

[bourbon-ontherocks]

asdjzekhkjerhf 304 was?? hysterical???? I hadn’t laughed like that in front a show in a long time, I was literally cry-laughing during the online team meeting. gilles’ face 💀💀💀 I could rewatch the ep rn just for this… franchement, merci chloé for sharing your germs with everyone, so worth it 🙏 btw céline complètement croclove de la petiote while adam is trying to keep a semblance of health & safety measures in the workplace, ICONIC. (so many germs-related reaction gifs to make. "LES GESTES BARRIÈRE !")

let’s not forget daphné’s power trip and her gender equality crusade, is it me or did she wink when they told céline the murderer was a woman? je l’adore 😭😂

gilles, vraiment, friend of the year 🥲 because daphné might just eviscerate him when she finds out he lied to her 🥲 ("vous allez tellement bien ensemble" je l’ai mal pris pour lui mdrrr) and it’s cute how jealous he was of timothée, lol!

timothée is way too sweet, actually. like, we know he’s not really meant as a love interest for morgane, but it’s too bad we don’t even get a chance to believe in their relationship (as opposed to morgane & ludo for example) though I’m glad he’s around, tbh, because "ma sirène" is my new favorite term of endearment 🤣🤣

OMG anon, I'm so happy for you that you enjoyed this episode!!! I'm not particularly fond of it myself so I'm glad you gave me more reasons to like it!!

I must say the flu epidemic was extremely fun, I knew from the start that it was obviously bound to happen when Ludo said that Chloé had a fever, and watching that trainwreck was like witnessing a car crash lol 😂 I agree that in that regard, the Zoom meeting was particularly delightful 😍 Also Adam x his steam inhaler is my new ship (really though, between the absence of Beardie, the inhaler, and the thermometer stuff, he was peak sexiness in this ep 🤣)

Céline babytalking Chloé felt kinda weird to me, she never really struck me as a kids person (even when she talks about how she basically never sees her son in season 2, like... she doesn't look devastated so much, you know?) but for some random reason she seems to be obsessed with Morgane's children this season (cf. when her first concern when Morgane was attacked at home was, actually, the kids that weren't even there).

But -- ah, why am I even trying to understand the characters this season? Characterization who? lol. Où avais-je la tête 😅

I 100% agreed that Daphné winked about the murderer being a woman, and she was definitely proud. I love her so much, but this woman is deranged 😂 Also the way she went borderline scary when asking Gilles about who was Timothée's conquest made me laugh so much!! The poor man, torn between his loyalty (and scare) towards Morgane and his scare (and loyalty) towards Daphné lololol!! Their fake dating idea was genius and Daphné's réaction was priceless ("maintenant que tu me le dis c'est évident" looooooool). But also wait until you find out how it all resolves because I have a feeling that you won't get disappointed 😈

Also what do you mean Gilles was jealous of Timothée?

Timothée is boring (imo) and borderline creepy, and I must say I cringed at "ma sirène" but also agreed that it was kinda hilarious. What did you think of the pseudo-romantic scene (grand gesture, rain, champagne metaphor, heart-shaped fade to black, etc) in the end? I might have vomited in my mouth a little 😆

But I have to admit I really enjoyed Morgane trying and spectacularly failing at hiding Timothée from Ludo AND Gilles lol (also Gilles who genuinely thought Timothée was just being rude for wandering naked in Morgane's house... someone protects this man at all cost 🤣)

(also the way Ludo was super chill with his ex's sex life, this man is a GEM 🥰)

Obviously this analysis wouldn't be whole without its crumbs of angst, so I'll leave you with the fact that Morgane's break-up speech was embarrassingly bad because she's usually never the one who leaves. 😢

[lady-lycany]

I hate how NNN is basically no fap culture how it’s a sin to jerk off and whatnot, if you’ve seen that twitter post circling around on how it originated on no fap Reddit which is super incel culture ish, but I also have massive problems with both being horny all the time and jerking off all the time… I probably do it 6 times a day at this point and half of it is just out of boredom to feel something… I tried and lasted almost one day but then decided to have “one last one” but then kept moving it by a day… until I gave up and actually also even bought a new sex toy yesterday because my old one is starting to break and am getting it tomorrow 👍 for me it’s also about self control and it looks like I have zero when it comes to being horny lol

I wake up, almost immediately do it; then during the evening, then right after I shower, then as I’m in bed on my phone about to go to sleep, then right before I sleep… it’s a problem and I can’t help it. Also watch a ton of porn but have tried to limit it in the past… probably gonna do that again since that’s the main issue really but problem is I probably have adhd or at least have random intrusive thoughts 24/7 so my mind just completely wanders every single time, even including sex, my head starts playing a freaking random song or gets random thoughts while I have sex…

I’ve mentioned it a few times very privately before but I’m not really able to talk to my friends about this so I’m glad I can at least say it here

Even though I'm very open when it comes to this topic, I definitely understand and relate that you can't really talk to most people about this topic. I'm glad that my best friend and I are pretty fcked up in the same way. Honestly, it barely passes a week where I don't do it at all, and especially in the last 6 months it became a lot more (not masturbation itself, but my mind was dirty, as soon as I woke up, until I went to bed. And now, where I ignore this topic in the daytime and distract myself, I have very weird dreams that include dirty stuff lol). I also have been at a point a while ago, where I tried to gain distance to all this because of religious blabla but I developed such a "fuck it" mindset, that I really don't care about it anymore. I don't have a partner, I never did, I'm almost 24, and while others in my age fuck around I just imagine scenarios or watch porn and do it myself. I mean... why not? It just shouldn't take over my whole fcking personality (as it did in the last couple of weeks lol) So I think this break is really important for my brain to reset. If you do it about 6 times a day, while watching porn, you may or may not also know the struggle that eventually normal "dirty" isn't dirty enough anymore. At least I can say about me that I already saw a lot of weird n wrong stuff, talking about all directions, and right know, I at least have a main kink again, that isn't completely morally questionable lmao. Last year, I also tried to do the full nnn but only managed to stay strong for 14 days. I really wanna do the whole month this time, but the week before my period I lose any self control when it comes to this 😂 So yea... We'll see how far I come this time...

What I've noticed in the last months is, having a dirty mind and imagining stuff is so much more fun to me than actual masturbation. Because if it's over, it's over, u know? But if you don't do it, your mind stays all day long in this hyped up mindset and I have lots of giggles and yea... And the right music for the imagination is like the cherry on top 😆🤌

[fujunfuren]

Oh my! That must be good~ Wandering around with minimal plans? Awesome! I'm sure it has its own charm~

I rarely travel. Maybe that's why my personality drastically changed in our last trip, I wanted to talk with the locals + practice my English. Unlike your recent trip, mine was so packed with plans. That's why when we sat and wait for one of us in a public space, I was like "ahh, we should have done this more... just sitting and observing people..."

Yesss, I think that’s the best thing about solo travelling, freedom to not have anything planned or not do anything. I have a main place i wanna go for the day and the rest comes along within the location heheh.

I get you! When I first started travelling, I always felt like I should have a packed itinerary. But as I travel more, I feel the need to be like the locals(?). People watching, strolling and to not over exhaust myself to squeeze too many activities, or maybe I’m older now 😂😂😂.

I hope you get to do those!! Going back to the place you went with lots of activities but this time, you spend more time relaxed with the locals.

[qa98]

DAENSAAA!!! lol found some old drawings I put in a "hidden" folder

So after discovering my old drawings, I tried semi-finishing them and added dialogue. These have been collecting dust since 2019 lol

PS. the later drawings don't match with the earlier ones cause

1) I have no set art style lol...rushed the last ones too (the decline 😂)

2) I drew them "literally years" apart

PSS. also sorry for any OOC

~A cold night in Winterfell~

Sansa: [steps back] Stop talking nonsense. I'll walk you to your chambers, Your Grace.

Daenerys: [smiles] To express my gratitude, I invite you to have some wine in my room.

Sansa: No need.

Daenerys: Oh but I insist.

Sansa: [sighs] Has anyone ever told you you're quite brazen?

Daenerys: [purses her lips] Hmmm...none that I can think of. Oh well. But that's what I like about you. You're not at all afraid to express your thoughts about me which honestly makes me feel more relaxed around you. I don't have to second guess too much.

Sansa: [raises a brow] Relaxed? Are you sure? I thought you said I was cold?

Daenerys: [smiles] Indeed. But it doesn't bother me. Such coldness, I actually find it quite...attractive. I see you stand there, cold and untouchable. And yet, it only makes me want to approach and touch, see if I can try to melt some of the ice. Or maybe find myself freezing in the end.

Sansa: [silence]

Daenerys: Ah. I've managed to make "The" Lady Sansa Stark speechless. And...are you blushing?

Sansa: ...It's just the cold winds, Your Grace.

Daenerys: Hm, is that so?

Sansa: Yes.

-----

Daenerys: Are you really not going to accept my offer?

Sansa: No.

Daenerys: A shame. Well, I guess this is good night then, my Lady.

Sansa: And my cloak?

Daenerys: [pouts]

Sansa: [raises a brow] You...

Daenerys: Or I can repay you?

Sansa: [curious] Pay me? With what?

Daenerys: Well...you can decide. As long as it's something I can give, of course.

-------

Sansa: [rolls her eyes]

With Daenerys busy changing, she didn't have to worry about Daenerys catching her expression. After a while, Daenerys came from behind the screen in her nightdress.

Sansa: I just asked you to tell me of your travels. Is it too much to ask from you, Your Grace?

Daenerys: Not at all. I just...do you really wish to hear of my travels?

Sansa: Why not? It's better to hear it direct from the source.

Daenerys: [frowns] I just thought...since you hated me, why would you be curious about such things about me?

Sansa's hand pauses from swirling her cup of wine. She raises her head to meet Daenery's gaze.

Sansa: [sighs] Let me make things clear. I do not hate you, Daenerys.

Daenerys: That's hard to be-

Sansa: Let me finish.

Daenerys: [closes her mouth]

Sansa: I repeat, I do not hate you. I don't know you enough for me to have deep-rooted feelings such as "hate" towards you. Such feeling is reserved for someone like Cersei.

Daenerys: If not "hate", then what do you think of me?

Sansa: At most, it's just a bad impression.

Daenerys: A bad impression???

Sansa: Yes.

Daenerys stood silently, trying to digest what she just heard.

Meanwhile, Sansa took sips of her wine while also sneaking glances at Daenerys. She remembered that Jon had told her to try. Try to get to know her and not let her prejudice overtake her. Since she doesn't trust others, then trust in herself, trust in her own judgment. She saw a chance tonight and took it. Although, some bits of their earlier conversation took her off-guard. Was this person always so...flirty?

Daenerys: Apologies. I'm being a bad host, letting my mind wander for so long while you're here.

Sansa: It's fine.

Daenerys: So...stories it is then.

Sansa: Mmm.

Daenerys looks at herself then at Sansa who was sitting upright and stiff in her chair.

Daenerys: Since it seems we'll be chatting for some time, would you not like to change into something more comfortable? And don't be so stiff and let yourself relax. My back hurts just from looking at you.

Sansa: I-

Daenerys: It's just the two of us in here anyway so etiquette be damned.

Sansa: [surprised]

Before she could say anything, Daenerys had shoved one of her nightdresses into her hands and pushed her to change behind the screen. Sansa admitted that she did want to get comfortable herself after such a long day so she didn't resist.

After changing, the two sat side by side while drinking wine and eating what snacks that were prepared in advance and left in Daenerys's room.

As promised, Daenerys told her about her travels. She tried to recall as many details as she could and didn't bother omitting any explcit details, earning her an almost permanent blush from the other woman.

At the end of the night, Daenerys discovered she's about to develop a bad habit of wanting to make the Lady of Winterfell blush at every turn, slowly melting the ice away. On the other hand, Sansa no longer had such a bad impression of the Dragon Queen...it's just that, now she fears the following days after this night to be troublesome, all due to said queen.

[primojade]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎

Hello, dreamerーthis is a place where thousands of stories were born, yet none are forgotten ! My name is Jade, and i'm a wandering auteur and artist! in any case, its a pleasure to meet you :>

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

rules | masterlist | carrd | moots and anons

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄

Requests and brainrots (including interactions): OPEN

all follows and reblogs are from my main: @araranas

currently listening to: 🎶 go the distance, cover by samantha barks 🎶

currently reading: the da vinci code by dan brown

currently craving: takoyaki 🐙

saving and farming/pulling for: focalors and neuvillette (eu), c2 wanderer (na), kokomi (asia)

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄: 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

Some important things to consider before following and interacting:

Gender is an important and sensitive topic for me, so please do be mindful that my pronouns are they/them, and I am agender/nonbinary ace.

I am a suffering university student (with a pursuing degree in business management!) so updates may be sporadic.

I'm also 21 years old, an adult, so if that bothers you, you may choose not to interact with me at all :> though this blog will remain, and will always be, sfw. Some of my works may contain suggestive themes, but nothing that borders n.sfw and dark content so minors are free to browse around here safely!

I can generally speak in four languages so feel free to message me via themーFilipino, English (my second language), Italian (my childhood lingua) and Japanese (a minor subject of mine). Though I can speak and understand Italian, my skills are now rusty and I'm not confident with it 💦 so if you don't want to suffer from my almost non-existent Italian, better talk to me in English xD

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄: 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒

#jaded momentsー! for personal writings and art.

#jaded musingsー! for important blog links and announcements.

#just jadeー! for idle musings, ramblings, spams, screeching, simping...

#jaded verses—! for brainrots too short to be a proper fic. Or maybe leftover ideas that I have no plans of turning into a fic.

#letters for jadeー! for answers to possible asks.

#jaded oathー! for fic/blog/art recs and personal favourites.

#jade simps for albedo/tighnari—! bc I know I wouldn't be able to help myself not to 💀

#jade clowning moments - for my crack-ish, idiotic misadventures in the real world🤡

#jade rated not pg—! smut and nsf-w stuff. Please block this minors or those uncomfy for ur own safety!

#jade reruns—! for my personal reblogs of writings and art.

#dear comrade: (name)—! interactions with lovely moots

#tw: (trigger name) , #genshin spoilers

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄: 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

I love a certain fictional alchemist and a botanist a normal amount :3

I'm AR60 on Europe server, AR59 on Asia server and AR58 on America server, but I'm afraid I'm not currently open to co-op rn since I have a very...personal reasons as to why heh. I won't be able to give you my UID in public as well (unless ur a moot! If so, feel free to ask me!) because my family plays Genshin with me and they certainly know what's my account 😂 I'd rather not have them know I write fanfics afー

I main Albedo (he's C4 now! and planning to c6 him soon!), but I usually switch to my C6 Diluc 💀. My team mostly consists/rotates between Xiao, Tighnari, Ayato, Kazuha, Hu Tao, Venti, Raiden and Zhongli. Not so proud of their builds though and I'm dumb when it comes to meta stuff so I won't be able to help you much if you ask me xD

Not so fun fact: I benched my Ayaka and C2 Keqing because they're poorly built 💦 did I mention that the rascal ginger dude didn't come home to me in ALL of his banners? 🙂

Pulling for wanderer cons!!

[stormblessed95]

How did I just found out that jimin is afraid of butterflies because someone put a butterfly in his underwear when he was young lol 😂

Okay.... so I spent the morning looking into this and I'm starting to think it isn't true...

I had also never heard of this before, which definitely doesn't mean it doesn't exist, but I of course then had to go looking for an original source of WHERE Jimin said this. And if someone can provide that and prove me wrong, PLEASE DO. But as of now, I don't think there is one. I can't find a single instance of Jimin saying he is scared of butterflies, much less because someone put one in his pants when he was little while in an arboretum like I keep seeing people state as "random jimin facts" on Twitter or online articles. Which is ALL I CAN FIND. lmao no actual quotes or links to where Jimin himself has said this. I even asked @wingzie for help, she couldn't find it either.. The earliest instance we can find of people talking about it is from Dec 2016:

But again.... no source....

Lots of people again started talking about this supposed fact on 170321 on twitter.... but again, no sources. And the only thing BTS did that day was their show in Brazil, and subsequent tweets after their show thanking B-armys for coming. And Teen Vogue dropped an interview that day as well. But not a single mention of butterflies in that interview either

The other times I'm seeing people talk about it is in reference to Jimins storyline in the BU. Spectaculting that his fictional flower arboretum trauma in the BU was perhaps drawn from inspiration from real life fears of his.

Wouldn't be the first time people took fictional BU storylines and got them confused with real life facts for the Tannies unfortunately... lol

The last thing people reference in regards to this butterfly fear is from Rookie King in 2013. When Jimin got the end plate punishment and the members then got to hit him with a fly swatter where they placed fake little butterfly/bugs. Which they teasingly flew around him as he squirmed before picking their spots. But if we are honest, the squirming or "fear" could easily have been from the members pinning him to a table and trying to pull his shirt up to smack him wherever they wanted. I too, would be trying to run away from people hitting me on the stomach and face. Lmfao which would have had nothing to do with the butterflies

Seriously that was a lot of wandering hands and threatening fly swatters flying. Lmao I think the members glee over the punishments were more "frightening" then the fake butterflies or whatever they were 🤣

Plus Jimin picked cute little fake butterfly tattoos for his 2018 summer package shoot that he did. Which is odd for someone who had a fear of them. Maybe?

SO AGAIN, I just don't think this is true. 🤷🏻‍♀️ lol just one of those rumors that no one checked and ended up becoming "fact." Since it can't be found as an original quote and it can't even be backtracked by a date... it's likely not actually true. But if someone does have a source for this, please share and I'll correct myself!