#I think my mojo is coming back slowly

[chukys-mouthguard]

prompts 15 and 20 w mat barzal, fluff heavy pretty pleaseeee

Prompts: “why can’t i say no to you?” + “you have me all wrapped around your finger”

Note: idk why my brain went here, but this is what instantly popped in my head with these prompts, hopefully the fluffiness translates with how i wrote this 🫶🏼

“Mat pleaseeeee!” 

You begged with your boyfriend as he playfully plugged his ears, pretending not hear you as he ignored the question you’d just asked of him. 

“Absolutely not, I don’t know where you got the idea, but it’s not happening. Think of something else.” 

Pouting was your next idea to try and convince him, though it seemed this would be harder than usual. 

The disagreement in question was over your idea for a couples Halloween costume. Mat usually the one to come up with the ideas, but this year you beat him to it. Having an idea already in your back pocket. 

The costume idea in question? Barbie and Ken. You thought it would be cute, picturing Mat wearing the Mojo Minx coat showing off his abs. But he immediately turned it down. You’d followed up with roller blading Ken, to which he actually cackled. And slowly but surely you were running out of Ken options. 

But you weren’t backing down. Determined to win the battle and get him to dress as Ken. 

“Babe…babyyy” 

Wrapping your arms around his waist as he’d begun cooking dinner for the two of you, he simply hummed a response urging you to continue. 

“It’s just, you always pick our costumes. And, I never can come up with good ideas. So, I thought of one and was so excited. But, you hate it. I guess you can be the one to pick our costume, yet again.” 

Your tone whiney and discouraged as he sighed, letting you know that you’d broken down his walls. 

“I don’t hate it…I just. I don’t like either of the options you showed me. I wanna feel comfortable and confident in the costume babe. That’s all.” 

He turned around in your arms to face you, a soft smile on his lips as he lifted your chin to make you look at him. “Hey, cheer up babe. We’ve got plenty of time until Halloween, we will think of something.” 

Now it was your turn to sigh, really turn up the act if you were gonna get him to crumble. 

“Yeah, I guess. I just thought I’d come up with a good idea was all…” your voice trailing off as you started to walk away, grabbing your phone from the island as you plopped down on the couch. 

“God damnit-“ 

You heard Mat mumble under his breath as he slowly dragged his feet and made his way over to the couch.  “What other outfits does Ken wear? Is there something a little more casual compared to the neon roller skating outfit. Or that freaking fur coat?” 

Mat laughed as a big smile came across your lips, “so you’ll do it?!” 

“Only if we can find something I can agree to. Go on, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of outfit photos saved to your phone let’s see.” 

Scooting closer to him you opened up your Pinterest, showing him the board with all the Ken outfits from the movie, letting him find one that he’d agree to. 

“Mmm, this one, I’ll agree to that.” 

Rolling your eyes you looked up at him after seeing the outfit he’d chosen. “Really? So you won’t wear neon colors or a fur coat, but you’ll wear a pink and green striped matching shirt and short set?” 

“You won’t me to take it back and refuse to do the outfits at all?” He looked at you offended before you quickly ate your words. “No no no, it’ll be great! Now I just have to decide on my outfit to match!” 

Mat smiled as you went back to your phone, scrolling your Pinterest board to find an outfit that would compliment his. 

“God, you have me all wrapped around your finger. Why can’t I say no to you?” 

He slightly cursed himself as he let it sink in what he’d agreed to. 

“Mmm, because you love me.” 

You smirked up at him before stealing a kiss. 

“Now that I can definitely agree on!”

[carlandoxlestappen]

My Jim | Jim Lake Jr.

Masterlist

I think this is the longest thing I’ve ever written.

But also, I’m sorry for completely disappearing. I’m trying to get my mojo back and I rewatched Trollhinters and remembered how much I love Jim Lake Jr.

“Where is Jim?” Was the first thing Barbra said as she ran into her home along with Toby, Strickler, Claire and Y/n, only to find her living room looking completely trashed with only Merlin standing in it.

No sign of Jim in sight.

“Finally becoming a true Trollhunter.“ The wizard answered firmly.

“You’d never.” Strickler said warningly, but it was too late.

They heard a thump from the bathroom upstairs, the group immediately ran up the stairs. “Jim!” Y/n gasped in realization.

“Jim! Are you in there?” Barbra yelled worryingly as she knocked on the door harshly.

“Jim please, just open the door!” Y/n shouted, pounding at the wooden door. “We will figure this out together just come out please!” She had tears in her eyes as she called for him, getting a sense of Deja vu of when he decided to go into the Darklands, all by himself.

“Jim! They’ve freed Morgana!” Claire said, standing by her best friend’s side as she hit the door. Y/n was staring worriedly as Claire pulled her back, allowing Strickler space as he began to ram his shoulder into the door at a desperate attempt to get to Jim before it was too late. Finally after a few tries, the door gave in and was flung open as they all rushed in but…there was no Jim. There was an empty jar on the floor and some sort of black matter spread in the water of the bathtub, but it was disappearing.

“Jim? Jim? Jim!” Barbra called repeatedly, staring at the black matter as it slowly dissipated. Strickler bent down and grabbed the jar on the floor, looking at it cautiously as they all watched, Claire, Toby and Y/n standing by the door frame helplessly. The girl watched in despair as Claire placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s happened to my son? Where is my son?” The woman asked him frantically while he just stared at the jar with wide eyes, causing Claire to cover her mouth with her free hand as Toby stared in shock and a tear dropped from Y/n’s eye.

She quickly turned around, hiding her face in Claire’s shoulder.

———-

It was the middle of the night. Y/n had fallen asleep, curled up on Barbara’s couch. They were both distraught after what happened as they waited for Jim to come back, and she decided it would be best to allow her to stay over, so she could be with her. Barbra was standing in the kitchen, watching the poor girl as she sipped on her tea before suddenly the door swung open, the glass of it shattering.

“Jim! Are you okay?” She said as she quickly ran to the front door, the girl on the couch jumping awake at the sound of her boyfriend’s name. She heard a grunt and a thump as she stumbled up, tripping over the blanket Barbara had kindly draped over her before running to the door.

“What’s going on? Is Jim-“ Y/n started to ask, but as soon as she rounded the couch, she gasped at the sight in front of her.

———-

Claire, Toby and Y/n flinched at the argument between Merlin and Barbara, the sounds of their voices and glass shattering traveling from the kitchen to the living room. “‘Promise’? ‘Promise’? You promised to help Jim!”

“Um, guys? He’s waking up!” Claire called to the others as the three teenagers watched anxiously, Y/n’s eyes wide as she watched her boyfriend stir on the couch where she had been sleeping a few hours ago. Blinky walked in, making Toby and Claire part so he could get a closer look as she moved towards her best friend, once again reaching for her shoulder. Claire truly had no idea how to help or comfort her in this situation. She knew how to comfort a friend if a boyfriend broke up with her. But a friend whose boyfriend turned into a troll? That was way out of her league. Jim grunted as he turned to lay on his back before his eyes flew open.

There he is. Y/n thought in relief, Jim’s bright blue eyes which she adored so much looking around then focusing on Blinky.

“Great grumbly Gruesome.” The troll muttered in shock as Jim sat up, rubbing his head with a groan.

“Honey? Do you feel okay?” Barbara asked slowly as she sat down next to him, touching his arm gently.

“He’s fine!” Merlin answered from the kitchen.

“We’re not asking you!” Blinky said in annoyance as Y/n turned around, giving the wizard a glare.

“One more word from you and Morgana won’t have a wizard to kill.” The girl grumbled harshly before turning back to the couch.

“I-I’m fine.” Jim answered softly, a smile on his face as he reached to touch his mom’s forearm but then got startled upon seeing his own hand. Well, his new, blue, four fingered hand. “Ahh! What’s wrong with my hand?” He asked as he stood on the couch

“Nothing’s wrong with your hand.” Claire said quickly. “It’s just a little…meatier.”

“In a good way!” Toby piped in, letting out a nervous chuckle. “It’s like you…leveled up.” He tried to put a positive spin on it.

“Yeah! You’re uh, bigger?” Y/n tried to help, but ended up wincing at her own words instead. Aaarrrgghh walked closer, beginning to sniff Jim with the stronger smelling sense he got when he was resurrected. He pushed his nose closer, his face pressing into Jim’s body before he suddenly moved away.

“No like. No like troll Jim.” Aaarrrgghh said in his broken English as he shook his head with fear showing on his face. He looked at Jim before turning away and quickly walking away from the living room.

“My elixir transformed our Trollhunter to something not quite human, not quite troll.” Merlin explained as Aaarrrgghh peeked back into the living room next to him.

Y/n reached out and grabbed Jim’s hand with both of hers, leading him down from the couch. Her eyes widened as she realized that both her hands barely even covered his new one, she was practically holding onto just his fingers. Jim was looking down at her and when she looked back, it also made both of them notice the new height difference.

“Like a changeling?” Toby asked as he looked to Strickler, who walked over and grabbed Jim’s chin, moving it aside as if to get a better look at him.

“No.” The man said confidently. “Changelings switch from fully troll to fully human. Jim is…neither.” He sighed as Jim stared at him, his face falling with his words. He let out a sound before jumping away, dropping Y/n’s hand as he jumped over the dining table and the counter separating the living room from the kitchen and they all heard the sound of kitchen tools cluttering as they quickly followed him. Y/n walked into the kitchen to see her boyfriend holding the toaster up to his face, using it as a makeshift mirror to observe himself as he made the sound you usually do when the dentist tells you to say ‘ah’ while he looked over his new teeth and most importantly, his much, much bigger canines.

“This isn’t so bad.” Toby said optimistically as the three teenagers walked over to him together. “You know, after a little haircut, we’ll find you some sunglasses, maybe a good dentist, huh?” He held his arms out and let out a nervous chuckle. “I know one. You’ll be right back to normal!”

“I look hideous!” Jim replied. Still staring at the reflection from the toaster. Y/n quickly leaned over, putting her hand on his shoulder and making him turn to look at her.

“You’re not, Jim. You’re really not.” She said, so easily it almost made him believe her, but then she caressed his cheek and he looked down to see that she actually had lean up to reach him, something she never had to do before. Jim smiled back at her softly but he still couldn’t help but look back at his reflection. They ignored the ruckus in the living room, until Jim heard Merlin talk.

“He is now capable of feats we never thought possible.” The old wizard said, making Jim turn to look at him curiously.

“Like what?”

————

After everything that happened last night, with Jim and Aaarrrgghh having a friendly spar and Claire and Jim having a competition of catch the Jim with her shadow staff, the boy never returned. They were all worried sick, and looked for him the whole day, until Barbara called Y/n, who was with Toby and Claire, telling her to go look at the school for him.

“Jim? Jim?” Toby called as they ran in through Claire’s portal. They walked through the locker area, Y/n and Claire looking all around while Toby checked the bathroom. “Jim, you in here?” Y/n and Claire each walked into different classrooms and Y/n immediately noticed a marking on a table, Jim’s table. She walked closer to see that his name had been carved into it.

“Jim?” She wondered quietly into the empty room. She leaned closer and ran her fingers over his name with a sigh as Claire walked in, asking if she found anything. “He must’ve been here.” Y/n sighed, and the girl grabbed her shoulders, turning her around to face her.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to find him and get him back.” Claire said reassuringly, making Y/n nod and take a deep breath before grabbing her hand as they walked out to check on Toby for any progress. “Toby!” Claire called as the two walked into the gym, noticing the boy standing by the bleachers at the other end of the room.

“He’s here!” He yelled, but that was apparently the wrong move because Jim quickly jumped from his spot under the bleacher with a practically animalistic growl, a sound that made Y/n’s eyes widen slightly as she glanced at Claire, her eyes saying everything, that came from Jim? He grabbed onto the latter before quickly moving to the rope and climbing it with ease. As soon as he got to the end he reached for a pole that was held far over their heads and crouched on it.

“Jim wait please!” Y/n shouted frantically as she and Claire ran over.

“Don’t you get it? I’m not Jim anymore. Go away!” He snarled at her before jumping away and through the window.

“He’s going to the roof.” Toby announced as he realized, causing Claire to quickly whip out her staff and conjure up a portal to the roof, but instead of walking through it, she gestured for Y/n to go, also grabbing Toby by the back of his shirt when he tried to walk into it. “You go. He needs you right now, more than us.” She said, ignoring Toby’s grumbling as she encouraged her best friend. Y/n took a deep breath before walking through the portal to the roof,.

“Jim.” She said softly, finally seeing him standing in front her, but as soon as he noticed her, Jim ran to hide behind something. “Please Jim, don’t run away.” She sighed, walking closer as he panted. “Whatever you are…we still love you. I still love you.” She said, making him somewhat perk up as he climbed atop the thing, looking down at her. They both ignored the sound of Claire’s portal opening behind them and Toby’s complaints to get off the roof. “I get it, you’re not Jim anymore. But you’re still someone we all care about.” Toby and Claire walked over, nodding along to her words.

“I can’t fight Gunmar and be the person you want me to be.” Jim said, looking away from them and staring downwards.

“We’re here on this roof for you.” Y/n looked up at him, trying to show her emotions through her eyes.

“Especially me, man. I just let Claire almost strangle me with my own shirt for you. Well, for Y/n too but still!” Toby added, making Claire roll her eyes but she still nodded at Jim encouragingly.

“And i get it, maybe you feel that everything has changed, but only the outside stuff. Inside you’re still you.” Y/n said softly, making Jim look down at them.

“You’re still our Jim.” Claire smiled.

“And we’re better for it. Jimbo.” Toby chimed in as Jim sighed. “Maybe your old life is over but that doesn’t mean we can’t be a part of your new one.”

“We want to be a part of it.” Y/n said and walked closer as Jim finally moved down to the floor. “No matter what you are, or how you look. You’re still my Jim.” She noticed he didnt look very convinced, and decided to make sure he knew her love for him, even if it took hours to explain. Because really, who could put them into words? “Jim who cooks the best steak I’ve ever tasted, Jim who was so nervous about meeting my parents you practically brought a buffet,”

She giggled at the memory, making him chuckle as he remembered how he came to her mother’s event, carrying so many dishes they practically covered his face and blocked his vision. Of course it still went wrong when the amulet started spewing different versions of him, but that’s just the way everything was for them. “Jim who danced with me in the most beautiful spot in Arcadia instead of some lame Mole Mania prom, Jim, my boyfriend. Who i love.”

She slowly reached up, and this time, he leaned down to her as she caressed his cheek, staring at him with a loving smile, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he thinks. “Jim, who I see my future with.” She said softly, making a smile make It’s way to his face as he reached to take off the hand that was on his cheek, intertwining their fingers instead.

Which once again brought his attention to the new differences, as he saw the way his blue hand held hers, so small and delicate compared to his. As soon as Y/n noticed the speck of doubt on his face, she was quick to interject. “It’s okay.” She reached with her other hand and grabbed his, holding them both between them. “It’s new and it will take some time getting used to, but It’s you. And i love every part of you there is.” She held their hands close to her heart, making tears pool in his eyes.

Suddenly, his mother and Strickler burst through the door to the roof, while Blinky reached it from the other side, with the help of Aaarrrgghh, of course. Y/n smiled at him as she stepped back, allowing them to reach him.

She watched with a smile and glassy eyes as he practically melted into Blinky’s arms once he wrapped him in a warm embrace. Claire walked closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, smiling as Y/n leaned her head on her shoulder.

“I told you we’d get him back.”

[teresalace]

"I won't cry for you" - Yandere Tyler Galpin x Female Reader PART 3

•Part 1 •Part 2

Words: 1699

Warnings: Mentions of torture, psychology, dysfunction yet healthy family relations if you squint.

Show: Wednesday (2022)

Summary: You've graciously or stupidly, granted Tyler a phone to call his father for whatever reason he had while you went to call yours for assistance. And since you weren't fully knowledgeable about Hydes, you contacted the only person you knew, who wasn't in prison, that had that knowledge. Your father, Alvin Gates.

• •

🥺 Sorryyyy this took forever a lot of months, planned to post this at February but got sick and many stuff happened, preparing for an interview :--D but am back in my writing mojo!/kinda, HAPPY HALLOWEEN) AND I HEARD season 2 is coming omggg I'm excited

————

"Well, well, well~ If it isn't the sweet consequence of my actions with your mother." A voice unmistakably grouchy speaks, sounding jovial with every word out.

A quick glance to your locked bedroom door before you finally said a response into the cellphone.

"You sound well, father." You mildly greeted, a tinge of a smile in your voice. To think it's almost only been a month since the last call.

"Yeah yeah it's been a while but cut the chitchat, sweetie, what do you need helping with?" You could imagine an eyeroll as your father said, always cutting to the chase.

"About Hydes." You spared no other detail and maintained calm articulation. Not that you needed to be careful with him, thankfully.

For more precaution, it's better if not even your own father knows about Tyler being in the house. You didn't want things to get out of hand.

"Ah- what about them? Did something happen that isn't supposed to–" Suddenly silence overtook the line, a thoughtful humming until he spoke again. "Don't get yourself into any unfamiliar territory, kid. That's suppose to be your mother's speciality."

So he noticed, of course he did. Better leave that to his wandering imagination than spoil your plan. A very non-existent plan at the moment.

"I don't plan to. Father, I was just curious since I kept hearing about them." True, that wasn't a lie in the slightest. "I was wondering if you'd know anything about them."

Surely he must know something.

"Hmm, you heard it from someone, no doubt. . . Alright, alright. What do you want to know exactly, kid. I'll tell ya as much as I can afford to." Sounds like mother has been keeping tabs on him.

"Hydes obey only one master, their own, correct?" You continued when father hummed a helpful tune, "would it be possible to sever the ties between a Hyde and its master."

A pause in-between your father's breathing left you suspended.

"Well. . . Got bad news for you kid, I don't know any available methods for that." He sighed gruffy like he felt bad, "sorry but can't help you with the whole severing business. It's set in stone, pretty much."

"I see. . . " You massaged your temples, disappoinment rising inside you. But you couldn't just accept this answer easily, stubbornness seemed to take hold in your heart. For what reason? You couldn't figure out.

"However–" A hoarse chuckle emerged from your cellphone. "It's not entirely impossible to say there aren't other ways of solving that problem. I'm sure you can get some creative ideas from their origins, kid. Only one thing is set in stone, Hydes only serve one master."

Father's bold hint sparked a lightbulb in your head. Their origins.

In the first place, what caused Hydes to bond an undying loyalty to their masters was–

"Sorry for not being alot of help, kid, I'm out of time for the day. Take good care of yourself, will you."

"I will." A buzz of excitement slowly crept over you as an idea began running through your mind. "You were very helpful, dad, thanks. You take care too."

"Mm sounds like you found an answer eh?" He sounded genuinely happy, making you feel much more sturdy in this new plan.

"Not exactly but I should be on the right track." If Tyler would go along with it.

"Mm so you're going to try any attempts, I see. Hah– it's hilarious how similar you and your mother's thinking is!"

Again with the comparisons. You rolled your eyes, "Goodbye, father."

"Alright alright, see ya kiddo. For now." BEEP. BEEP.

The call was over already.

.  .  .

You turned off the burner phone, picking out the block of battery from the back and saving it in your other hiding space for another time. Now you should check on Tyler, you can't afford to trust him so easily especially when his father's a sheriff. 

Quietly you went out of your bedroom, closing the door slowly so as to not make a sound. You headed down the stairs in a casual, fast pace to quickly see his state of mind.

But it's likely he isn't planning to screw himself over... Your assumption was most likely made correct when you came to see Tyler sitting slumped on the couch, his face buried deep in his hands. 

Sweeping your gaze across the living room and floor, the burner phone you gave him was nowhere in sight… Mentally noting to check the trash bin by the kitchen before you stomped down the stairs and made yourself known.

Tyler's eyes peeked up first from the gaps in-between his fingers like the leafy venus flytraps back home ever so often tempting you to closer inspect. To place your finger in there, to feed. 

He waited on your next move.

Your arms folded, hiding your hands twitching on their own for a tweezer. "Did you have a good talk?" 

What else could you really say without sounding too interested in him. 

"It was something…" Tyler did a small shrug, less energy than he's shown before, voice dulled by the cover of his fingers. "Could've gone better. I wish he didn't hang up so fast."

"What did you talk about?" Might as well see how much information he was willing to give.

A small sigh, Tyler slowly revealed half of his distraught face. "Not a lot. He wasn't interested in what I had to say… Told me to be careful." Strange of the dutiful sheriff to say but then again you didn't know what kind of father-son relationship they had.

"How are you feeling?" One of mother's favourite lines growing up that you've somehow adapted into your vocabulary. It seemed the most appropriate.

You continued watching Tyler's tensed form with a safe but short distance away, the coffee table acting as a possible shield in between you and him. Incase he raged.

But there was none.

There was something in his usual silence this time that irked you. Like he didn't fully trust you. 

You approved of that, as he shouldn't. Mutually. Especially if things ever go wrong because of him, you were ready at a moment's notice to abandon everything to do with him. 

"I… Hate him." 

The pause went on for however many tensed seconds before Tyler's hands fell onto his knees.

"Sorry sorry, I know I shouldn't be saying this… I mean I can't say I don't miss him." 

"You can say what you want. I don't mind," you said flatly, genuinely meaning it. His expressions stiff, he looked mentally pent up, thoughts practically steaming out from his ears.

"No, it's fine. You've done a lot for me already, I owe you." He grinned brightly, the dark cloud looming over from before gone in an instant, "for that phone call too."

"Sure," it wouldn't be bad to have a Hyde indebted to you.

Tyler checked the ticking clock on the kitchen wall, "I guess it is getting late… See you in the morning?"

You nodded. "Night, Galpin." 

"G-Good night! Have a good sleep." He smiled dopey, waving briskly while walking backwards to the foot of the stairs before jogging up to his bedroom. So naturally at home.

Just how eager was he to get back in his room?

 That wasn't his usual way of walking, what could he be looking forward to or hiding in there… Or he could just be relieved of stress after that talk with his father, maybe that brought about his new behavior.

Your suspicions were beginning to sound far-fetched even to yourself but then again, there was always that silver of possibility that he could be planning to rebel against you. 

So you moved fast towards the kitchen sink, tiny spikes of uneasiness pulsing through you, turning the facuet on and letting the water run loudly as you went to look into the trash bin.

Expecting to look down into a void of nothingness.

The large black plastic bag sleeved over the edge of the bin looked loose and puffy. Clearly you didn't do this, your meticulousness wouldn't allow such a lazy set up. You pat down the puffy areas, flattening the edges to allow better access in seeing what trash had been collected.

Shiny peices of black metal greet you at the bottom of the pit, tiny and almost powder-like glitter in the kitchen light. What previously used to be a burner phone now looked like the result of being in someone's clenched fist. Useful monsterous strength… if he could actually get it under his full control.

Whatever anxiety crept inside your heart disappeared as you contently spun on your heel and turned off the kitchen faucet. 

A small appreciation for Tyler as thanks to him, there's less work for you now.

You wondered why you even felt 'anxious' at all, it must've been the slight stress of knowing he could've screwed things up for you. And himself. Now that makes sense, of course since it's not as if you actually knew him personally even back in town. 

Feeling much more at peace, you headed towards your own bedroom, adjacent from Tyler's. His room barely made any noise except for the few inaudible mumbles and the faint use of his shower and the light peeking through from underneath his door. 

You never noticed before but he always had the lights turned on in there. Well, it's not as if you were the one paying the electrical bill. It was nothing noteworthy.

Once settling in your own bed and underneath your blanket in the cozy dark, sleep came easily… Until your brain jostled an interesting observation your very eyes must've slipped. 

In the trash bin, there was no sight of the small black piece. The memory card. 

The sim card. 

Despite his questionable actions, you chose to sleep, thoughts racing alongside a strange excitement building up in you. 

Oh what are you up to, Tyler Galpin.

Time was ticking. Neither on his or your side. He just didn't know it yet.

In the following morning you received a misscall from an unknown number. Father. He never contacts you first. There's nothing he needs that you could provide. It must be about the Hyde. 

Finally.

[turtles-invoked]

I keep thinking about different ways Cas could potentially escape the empty and find his way back to Sam and Dean.

The scenario that sticks out the most to me is that Sam and Dean would be driving along the highway, dead silence, after finishing a case that Sam dragged Dean along too but then got mad at him when Dean nearly kills himself going into the fight alone.

So they’re driving along, Dean’s face stone cold, Sam pouty and angry at Dean when Cas just appears at the side of the road.

No big deal. Dean’s been seeing Cas a lot lately. More so during exhaustion.

Sam bolts upright and looks in the rear but Dean keeps driving.

“Dean!” He shouts when Cas appears again, nearly hit in the process and this time Dean slams on the breaks because ‘Sam can see him too?’

They barely pull over before Sam springs out of the car, angel blade aimed and ready, Dean’s gun locked and loaded despite potentially being useless.

“What are you!” Dean yells at him

“It’s me, I’m… me…” Cas would say weakly, voice strained, hands up surrenderring.

“Yeah right,” Dean says and shoots the ground next to him as a warning, “start talking!”

Cas’s eyes open wide and panic floods his face.

“Dean, maybe it-”

“Cas is dead, Sam!” Dean interrupts.

Sam goes to the trunk and opens the duffle, grabs the flask of holy water and a silver knife.

Gun still aimed at Cas’s face, Sam walks up to him and splashes him with the water. Cas holds out his arm to allow Sam to cut him with the silver. Cas then drops his angel blade and cuts along right next to it, small blue electric beads of grace glistening at the opening before sewing the skin back together.

Dean swallows, hope weighing the pit in his gut down.

“He checks out,” Sam says stowing his angel blade away.

“How did you get out?” Dean questions, still defensive, still in disbelief.

Cas’s deep blue eyes bite into Dean’s soul “I honestly, I have no idea. I woke up on a shore in Brazil. I had my grace, my wings, but my geographical locationing was… off…”

“… and you’re warded against me, that’s why it took so long to find you… the both of you…”

Dean swallows, as Sam embraces Cas, welcoming him back, exclaiming how happy he is to see him but Dean still isn’t sure.

“Dude, what more do you want?” Sam says stepping aside.

“You’re buying this? The empty spat him out somewhere exotic and he just happened to get lost finding his way back, I’m sorry, but I’m not,” Dean says, not allowing himself to believe that Cas really is here and in front of him, mojo and everything, “Remember what Billie told you? No one comes back from the empty!”

“I remember everything…” Cas starts slowly.

Deans breath catches in his chest.

“The empty, our fight… our- our goodbye. I remember it all. Every word,” he says.

‘I love you’ Casteil’s voice plays rewind inside Dean’s mind. He remembers every word, every micro expression, every feeling as the words were said to him. He’s replayed them every day since he’s been gone.

Deans eyes sting with unshed tears instantly, a lump in his throat. His mouth opens and closes a few times, mind racing, body tingling. He swallows the emotion building up in his throat and frowns.

Cas starts to walk towards him but his holds the gun firmer in his grip.

“You really did change me, Dean. For the better. I thought about you… and-and Sam, every day. I, quite literally, fell in love with you. And whether you feel the same or not, I still mean it,” he finishes.

And that’s all Dean needs to flick the gun on safety, shove it in his waistband and storm over to cas, pulling him into a bone crushing hug, allowing the tears to silently roll down his cheeks.

He holds Cas, allowing himself to breathe and hope, and feel Cas in his arms, ‘he’s back’.

But his then he moves into the anger and it gets the better of him. He lets go of their embrace and grabs Cas by the lapels of his trench coat and shoves him without letting go, because he doesn’t think he could ever let go despite how angry and upset he is now.

“How stupid are you!” He yells and shoves him again, still holding on, scared to lose him again.

“You don’t just say crap like that and then-and then leave,” he shoves him a third time.

“You needed to know,” Cas says, letting Dean push him around, “I needed you to know,” he corrects himself, eyes never leaving Dean’s own.

“I-” Dean starts, but he chokes on his words. Can’t quite get those last three out, “I-” he tries again but something deep in his chest won’t let him say want he wants nothing more than to.

But Cas gives him a knowing smile, “I know,” he says gently.

Dean starts to feel overwhelmed. Still angry and upset, but warm and tingly and that hopefully flutter is back in his stomach. He stares at Cas’s sympathetic smile and his heart pounds hard behind his ribs.

Dean pulls Cas into him and their bodies crash together and he kisses him, hard, short, and sweet. Cas’s arms wrap around him, holding him flush against him and Dean swears he sighs into the kiss.

Sam clears his throat behind them and chuckles and suddenly Dean is very aware of Cas’ hands on his waist.

They pull away, Cas is practically beaming, in fact he is glowing ever so slightly, eyes shining brighter than normal.

“You okay, Cas?” Sam asks nervously.

Dean takes a step back as Cas starts to vibrate ever so slightly, a soft high pitched whine radiating off of Cas.

“It’s just… m-my grace,” he stutters and squeezes his eyes closed.

Cas takes a couple of deep breaths, his fists clenched at his sides and within a few seconds the aura around him dims and the whine silences.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asks concerned.

Cas blushes, “sorry… I was… overwhelmed…”

Sam chuckles behind him and Dean turns around to glare at him.

“Are you alright?” He asks not moving closer.

Cas nods, “very much so,” Cas says genuinely and now it’s Dean’s turn to blush.

Sam chuckles again and claps Dean on the shoulder, “let’s go home.”

Dean watches Sam walk to the drivers side but get into the back of the car.

Cas smiles at Dean and they slide in too, Cas in shotgun and they head home. And if Dean’s hand rested on Cas’ thigh the whole way there, well, he needed the physical reminder that Cas was back and sitting next to him.

I dunno it’s just a thought I keep having. I Love the idea of Cas losing control of his grace / powers when Dean shows affection towards him. I also haven’t seen the later seasons I’m up to season 11 episode 6 or 7 I’m getting there though just very slowly 😅

[yourfavsasdragondescriptions]

@yourfavouritecharactersasdragons

Still working on getting my damn mojo back and it’s slowly coming back, I decided to make this strange lady who sold me red meaty slop full of glass and shredded plastic a lot more powerful by turning her into a dragon after I found her in the morgue playing dress-up with a dead body

Caught her in 4K too like look at this silly lady holding that dead body she pulled out of the dead body museum

Though she started screaming and hitting me when I separated her from the body and fled into the procedurally generated bog-standard fantasy setting after she crawled out of the dragonification device and I haven’t found her since

I might revive the dead body since she seems to know the person that human bag of crunched-up potato chips used to be when they were alive. I think the dead lady’s name was either Lacey or Jay.

But anyways ONTO DESCRIBING HEYHO

This lithe, almost emaciated dragon seems to have been weathered by time despite clearly being an adult of its species. Its scales are universally lusterless and drab in coloration, with the scales on its upper body and wings being a dark maroon color. Its wing membranes, meanwhile, have faint pinkish-white lines on them. The scales on its waist, tail and back legs are a desaturated orange color, and these scales appear to be brown when viewed in certain lightings. The scales on its underside are a desaturated pink color and resemble the ventral scales of snakes. The slate blue scales on its head and neck are the most lusterless scales on anywhere its body, and these scales in particular don’t even reflect sunlight when it shines on them. Two sets of horns grow down from the sides of its head, and these horns almost look like pigtails when viewed from afar. Its eyes are cloudy enough to make the dragon look almost corpse-like when only the head is viewed, but the clouded eyes do not seem to affect its vision in any way, shape or form.

And yet despite the air of regality that surrounds it, which is a given for all dragons, something is obviously wrong with this dragon in particular. But not in the sense that it’s physically ill. It’s more in the sense that it is suffering from something inside its mind. It doesn’t carry itself with pride like other dragons do, and considering the testimonies given by those who encountered it, this dragon seems to be… depressed. A depressed dragon? Such a thing is unheard of! Dragon slayers sent to kill the dragon only come back either depressed themselves, furious that the person who sent them to slay it sent them to try to kill it at all or doubting if killing the creature is the right thing to do for the beast. Despite this track record of being gloomy enough in behavior to make even the most fanatical slayer turn around and leave to get their money back, it is by no means not a threat in combat. Its breath weapon is a substance that can best be described as liquid fire with dark, toxic and foul-smelling smoke. When the substance stops burning, a strange, semi-transparent glossy residue is left behind (the people of this fantasy setting don’t know what napalm, white phosphorus or plastic are, but Dragon!Lacey’s breath weapon is basically the unholy lovechild of burning plastic, napalm and white phosphorous).

[lumber]

Hey to my 1 dedicated fan/follower/friend- I'm not sure if you've noticed (or not), but I haven't posted ANY new artwork in a good while. I appreciate that you've been liking/looking at/enjoying my old stuff I've been posting lately... What's that they say? About everything old is new to somebody? 🤔 So thank you. Truth is, I think I've been feeling a bit depressed lately? I haven't been able to pick up my blessed pencils/pens and put line to my beloved sketchbook for weeks/months now, so when I do- it feels like climbing a mountain. I began feverishly working on a new Dingbert & Lemmy 8 pager minicomic just to have "something" to pass out at this year's San Diego Comic Con and not feel like a loser- and don't get me wrong, the chicken scratch page thumbnails are coming out top-notch!!! But I just... Stopped. I stopped because I didn't want to rush the project. I stopped because I realized that it's ok to not have anything to pass out, and that I won't be a loser for doing so. That I can just attend SDCC as an attendee just for the pure sake of the experience, and bask in it. To just be in the moment with Xaviera/@xavisaurus and enjoy. I think this 8 pager DB & Lem minicomic is going to be bigger than just a rush job and some of my recent funniest and best cartooning/story work to date. These lovable asshole Cat and Mouse characters are truly helping get my cartooning mojo back, and for that I'm forever grateful to them. Heck yeah! I think I may need some help and run a GoFundMe to help print up the minis after SDCC, and get it done slowly, correctly, and right. Slow and steady wins the race. The assholes (and me) are back, baby! Bloob!!! ❤️

[daydreamsandafternoonteafics]

Crossroads- Chapter 11

banner by shesaidpoptarts

MASTERLIST

!Content Warning(s)!: Sexual content, arguing/fighting, angst

I was defeated.

I’d never had the most self-confidence, but I was definitely sure now that I was a complete failure. I was nothing less of embarrassed and exhausted from my date night with Harry. I was a married woman who could barely manage to keep my husband engaged long enough for a simple dinner.

I was failing at my marriage- completely, undoubtedly and ungracefully.

Maybe I was overexaggerating. Date nights gone wrong were certainly not the be-all-end-all of marriage but for me, it was another silent nail in the coffin, another casualty of what we used to be. It was nothing abnormal, but it still scared the hell out of me.

How much longer until the thread completely unravels, and we’re left with nothing?

I could only cope by doing what I knew best, picking up and moving along, but I found myself retreating into a shell of self-loathing. Harry seemed totally unaffected, resuming his busy work life without even batting an eye.

Everything was fine to him, anyway. I was the one who overthought and lived in a state of constant panic. I was the one who was always wondering when the walls would come tumbling down.

A torrential shower of rain assaulted me on my way to pilates class. I forced myself to get out of bed with just enough time to shovel down some yogurt and still be on time.

At virtually five months pregnant I was in a weird stage between low and fervent energy. Somedays I felt like I couldn’t lift a finger and on others, I could do any and everything.

“River! You’re back!” Hannah squeals as I kick off my wet sandals.

I can’t help but chuckle at Hannah’s greeting. She squeals as if she hasn’t seen me in months, even if my attendance is regular.

I plaster on a faux smile as I slowly roll out my mat.

“My work schedule’s pretty clear. It’ll probably pick back up with the holiday, approaching though,” I reply.

Her big brown eyes fall to my ever-protruding belly with a grin.

“So, update me on the little nugget,”

I take in a deep breath whilst securing my damp hair in a sloppy bun.

“Well, I felt them move for the first time on Friday and I’ve got my twenty-week appointment to find out the gender tomorrow,”

It was so surreal to know that I’d felt a human being moving inside me and was only a day away from figuring out who they would be.

“My gosh,” she squeals. “it’s the most beautiful little feeling, isn’t it? Bristol’s little flutters were so cute. But then she got her strength up and her kicks were brutal. The little thing kept me up some nights,”

I chew at the corner of my lip.

“For my sake, I hope they’re well behaved.”

I realize I’ve lost my mojo during the workout. I feel dizzy and sluggish, even with the pregnancy modifications but I press through. In the middle of Warrior, I pose, I feel an intense need to rush home and scrub every inch of the house. I pack my things in a rush when Hannah catches me.

“Do you want to grab lunch?” she asks with wide brown-eyes as she stretches on the balls of her feet.

I brush a gym towel across my forehead and slip my yoga mat over my shoulder with a deep sigh.

“I’d love to, Hannah but I can suddenly think of a million things I need to get done at home. It’s nothing personal,” I add.

“No worries,” she grins.

Her eyes suddenly go wide and my brows furrow.

“Before I forget, we’re having a 4th of July party on Thursday. You should come! Frida, Jess, and Brooke will be there with their husbands and you could bring yours. They’ll be hot dogs and fireworks. It’ll be a lot of fun."

I almost cringe at the idea of another public outing with Harry, my mind flashing back to the horrific date night.

I usually did the 4th of July with Mom on the beach with Harry in tow. It was one of the rare days of the year that he was literally forced to not work, and he spent most of it getting tipsy and sunburnt.

Being European, the holiday didn’t hold much value to him.

A little change of scenery wouldn’t hurt. I didn’t have very many friends outside of Ryan and with a baby coming soon it was best to get all the adult socialization I could get.

“I’d love to,” I grin. “it’ll be fun,”

I rushed home, debating on what to cook for dinner for a while before I settled on my tried-and-true roast chicken recipe. It was easy, could last for days and despite being rather run-of-the-mill, seemed to add an elegant touch to any meal.

Many people assumed that because I was a trained chef I cooked fresh, gourmet meals every night. When Harry and I first moved in together I’d made a habit of it, but the busier he got and the less he was around for dinner, the more I learned to preserve my talents and energy.

Often, I cooked in bulk and stowed away items of necessity. Even chefs-especially those with babies growing between their hips- needed a break sometimes.

I spent the next few hours organizing the pantry, varnishing the hardwood floors, and shredding junk mail that had piled up in the letterbox and managed to get in a thirty-minute nap before it was time to take the chicken out of the oven.

I must have lost track of time and didn’t realize how much of the afternoon had passed until I heard the garage door open while I was carving the chicken.

I reach up to brush a few flyaways away from my face before the kitchen door opens.

“Something smells wonderful,”

A familiar cologne invades my senses and a pair of hands rest against my belly.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to touch women handling knives?” I quip with a smirk.

Harry chuckles.

“My mum never made anything that wasn’t a cocktail,” he presses a kiss to my temple and his large hands slip under my shirt. “I was a bag of bones till I met you.”

I slice into a thigh as my eyes drift toward the kitchen clock. It was just a little after five-thirty. Harry usually came home on an office day by at least an hour later.

“You’re home early today. And very handsy,” I speak.

He sighs.

“It’s been a long day, darling. I couldn’t wait to be home with you and the gumdrop,”

I set down the cutlery as he spins me around to face him and his hands attach themselves to my bump once more.

“You’re irresistible like this, with your belly round and of full of my seed. It’s such a turn on. I can’t stop touching you.” Harry continues.

I bite down on my bottom lip, a coital warmth rushing up my spine. The sexual tension between us was unreal lately. Our schedules had conflicted too much and there was hardly any time for sexual release.

With all his touching and teasing I was surprised I’d maintained this much restraint. Harry and I had always been a passionate couple.

While things weren’t so great between us in a marital sense, it was easily forgotten in between the sheets.

“Eat your dinner and you can touch me anywhere you like,”

I grin, pressing a kiss to his mouth and wiggling out of his embrace to prepare our plates but not before Harry gives my backside an appreciative squeeze.

“Yes ma’am,”

As I fill the plates with chicken and vegetables I get an idea.

“Let’s eat in the living room and watch some tv,” I speak.

I didn’t want to have to relive our date night over again and I figured a casual dinner in front of the television would solve that.

With the distraction of some sort of media, neither of us would feel pressured to talk. I was just as exhausted with bringing attention to the issue as Harry probably was with my nagging.

I just wanted to have a peaceful night and it was easier that way.

We parked on the sofa and settled on watching reruns of Law and Order. There was a simple sweetness about it. It felt like the beginning of our relationship all over again when Harry and I first started dating.

We’d rent movies and kick our roommates out of our respective apartments and cuddle up in the dark, eyes glued to the screen. There was nothing awkward about it, it was a comfortable silence.

But even comfortable silence gets old.

A total of two episodes passed before Harry got handsy again and it was not easy to focus on solving crime with his lips on my neck and his hands up my shirt. Before things could get too hot and heavy, I asked him to load the dishwasher with the promise of slipping into something sexier.

As much as I wanted him, I also wanted a clean kitchen.

I brushed my teeth, let my hair down and stepped into a sheer maternity nightgown that left little to the imagination all while covering my bump. To my surprise I find Harry sitting on the edge of the bed once I emerge from the bathroom, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs and a dangerously unbuttoned shirt.

I have to take in a deep breath.

“Fuck,” he drawls appreciatively.

I grin, going to straddle him.

“Close your mouth, honey,” I settle on his lap. “you’ll catch flies.”

Harry grabs hold of my hips, gently tugging me closer to press an ardent kiss to my mouth. I completely melt against him, savoring each gentle kiss.

My fingers move to conquer his remaining buttons, sliding the fabric down his taunt and toned arms. His grip on my waist tightens and I’m positive there will be bruises from his fingertips to commemorate what we are about to do.

A soft moan leaves my mouth as his large hands slip up my nightgown. My fingers reach for his hair, weaving in his curls, and I surprise myself by rolling my hip against him.

“Eager are we, love?”

Harry flashes a dimpled grin before redirecting his attention to my neck, sponging tender kisses against my skin. They are gentle and playful, like the stroke of a feather but he soon surprises me with a short yet sudden suck of flesh.

A jolt of electricity shoots through my veins and I want him so badly.

“Harry,” I hiss. “god.”

The tips of his fingers brush against the hem my nightgown. Expertly, almost nonchalantly, he pulls the sheer fabric up over my head and tosses it aside.

“Fuck, River,” Harry pushes my hair over my shoulder to get a better view of my full breast and swollen belly. “you’re so beautiful like this. I’m never letting you not be pregnant again.”

I giggle, leaning in to capture his lips.

“I don’t think you know what you’re saying. We’re only halfway through this. I’ll be a whale by the third trimester. You’ll regret it.” I reply.

“No, no,” he nips at my clavicle causing my eyes to flutter in bliss. “you have no idea how incredible you look.”

I can feel him prodding beneath me which only makes me grow impatient.

“I want to feel you tonight,” I pause to press a kiss to his jaw. “really feel you.”

His eyebrows furrow as brushes a thumb against my taunt and sensitive nipple, causing me to gasp in pleasure.

“What’dya want, babe?”

“I’ve been reading up on the different positions we can try,” I admit bashfully, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I was hoping we could lie down this time – side by side.”

As amazing as being on top of him felt, there are moments when a woman just wants to be held and properly made love to. I longed for the passion and tenderness that seemed to be missing lately.

“Alright, darling,” Harry hums.

I steal another kiss before easing off his lap, crawling to the head of the bed and lying on my side. Harry wiggles out of his shorts, greeting me with a strong erection as he turns on his side. He scoops his fingers under the band of my panties and peels them away, gently parting my legs. A soft moan escapes me once I feel his tip brush against my throbbing core.

“H-Harry. Shit.”

The corner of his pink lips turn up into a dimpled grin and he pulls me closer before hoisting a leg on his shoulder. He then drapes his leg across my waist. I can only imagine how strange we probably look in this contorting position but none of that matters now.

“Ready for me?”

I slowly nod, unable to find my words in the heat of passion. I simply stare into his jade eyes as he inches into me, gripping his shoulder for support.

I gasped once his hips finally met mine. Harry’s eyes are squeezed tight and he lets out a low moan at the feeling of me contracting against him.

“You feel so good, River. That feel good to you?” he speaks again.

If being anymore turned on was possible, I was practically bursting at how gentle he was being with me.

“Ahh- yes,” I pant. “it feels incredible. “

He takes my words as clearance to move and I bite down on his shoulder to muffle my moans. Harry’s strokes are slow, deep and teasing and he angles his hips in such a way that he hits all the right spots. I hold onto him as if he might break and as cliché as it sounds, it feels as if the whole world has melted away and there is nothing left but us.

Just our bodies moving in our own sacred rhythm.

I feel close but I don’t want to let go just yet. I want to relish in this moment forever. I’m in such a daze that I could almost have ignored the blaring vibrations of Harry’s cell against the nightstand.

Harry groans, pausing mid thrust and my grip on him tightens.

“Ignore it,” I whine. “keeping going. Don’t stop.”

“Babe, it could- “

I silence him with a kiss, not wanting to entertain any of protest. I move against his length, hoping to recapture the mood but his mobile keep ringing and he holds me steady so that I can’t move.

“Riv, I think I need to take this call.” he sighs.

I let out a deep groan as he slowly inches out of me and turns on his side to retrieve his phone.

“You’re kidding, right?!? They can’t!” Harry barks into the receiver as he pulls on his boxers before padding out of the room.

I just lie there, a star-crossed feeling of anger, melancholy, and disbelief brewing in my chest. Even in the most intimate moments, it’s really just that easy for him to forget about me.

A few minutes pass I slowly get out of bed, deciding to go to the bathroom to wash up. As I braid my hair I feel the baby move again, reminding me to use the belly butter I’d brought.

After I’ve gone to the linen closet to get clean sheets, Harry has returned. He rummages through his closet, frantically pulling out freshly starched Thomas Pink shirts.

My heart sinks once I notice his suitcase sitting on the bed.

“What are you doing?” I question, hugging the folded sheets to my chest although I already know the answer.

He turns to me with a deep sigh, his hair a mess from our interrupted romp.

“Darling, I have to go,” he drawls.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion and I chew the corner of my lip.

“Harry, you can’t. My twenty-week appointment is tomorrow. We’re finding out the gender of our child.”

Harry lets out another deep sigh.

“I know that, Riv. But this is important. Bergen wants to merge with another firm. If we do, we might lose control of everything.”

He reaches in his closet for another shirt and I just snap.

“Do you hear yourself? How fucking selfish can you be? As if getting to know who our baby will be isn’t important?” I seethe.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“And it begins. There you go with your bitchin’ and whining. As always- “

“Bitching and whining? Forgive me for bitching because I think you prioritize your job over everything! We’re going to be parents soon and you realize you won’t be able to just jet off every time something goes wrong at your precious job?! I wish you’d just quit already,”

All the frustration and anger I’d been bottling up inside came spewing out like ruthless lava from an active volcano.

This was for sure the icing on top of the cake.

“Well I can’t,” he growls. “the world doesn’t revolve around you, River Dawn, and your cooking doesn’t pay the bills. I work so that we can have everything we own. If it weren’t for me you’d have nothing. I’ve spoiled you. You should be thanking me but all you ever do is complain,”

I swallow the lump in my throat, tearing my eyes away from his penetrating and accusatory gaze. His words sting as if he’s slapped me in the face and part of me feels as if it’d hurt less if he actually had.

“Fuck you!”

The words roll off my tongue with a bitter, painful taste and I try my hardest to fight back the tears that sting my eyes. Harry seems unmoved by my vulgarity and resumes packing as if all this is nothing. As if I’m nothing.

“I don’t need you to do anything for me,” I continue. “I don’t need you at all. You’re hardly ever around anyways, it’s like you don’t exist. I’m perfectly capable of living without you.”

I say the words with bravado, but I’m not entirely convinced. Part of it was true. I didn’t need Harry and I was capable of living without him, but I didn’t want to. He was my first and only love. I’d invested my whole entire being into our relationship. There was far too much to lose.

“You don’t mean any of that, darling,” Harry retorts, a small smirk forming on his lips as he saunters over to me. "you’re just angry. Perhaps a bit hormonal,”

His arms wrap around my waist, the palms of my hands lie flat against my bump and I stiffen at his touch. I don’t know whether to feel annoyed or relieved that he’s calling my bluff.

“If I took you back to bed you’d feel better, yeah?”

I shudder at the feeling of his lips pressed against my neck, mere seconds away from giving in but I know if I do I’ll only feel worse. He was gorgeous and charming but equally as conniving and dangerous. I’d fallen for his one trick pony one too many times.

“No, Harry,”

The anger returns as I tear out of his grasp, spinning on my heel to face him.

“you don’t get to seduce and manipulate and- and sex your way out of saying shitty things. If you’re sorry you’ll give me a proper apology,”

He reaches out, giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“Babe- “

“No!” I interrupt again. “I’m exhausted, Harry. I just- I just don’t want to see you right now. If you want to run behind your job, then fine but I’m tired of running behind you.”

The eerie calmness of my words nearly scares me. I’ve lost the fire and feel like giving up the fight. At this moment, it’s suddenly crystal clear what I must do to protect my sanity.

I don’t feel like spending the night in the house that Harry worked and paid for with his superior money, but I don’t know of a place I can go that won’t raise any red flags.

Mom still kept my childhood bedroom vacant at the B&B but there was no going there, checking into a hotel for the night seemed far too dramatic for such a common fight and Ryan’s apartment was at least thirty minutes away and a complete last-ditch option.

Instead, I left Harry to finish his packing, grabbed my laptop and trudged down to the kitchen. It was the one space in the house that truly felt like mine.

I updated the offerings on my website and downed a whole jar of garlic stuffed olives that I later ended up regretting once the heartburn kicked in. I stayed there until my back ached and my eyes grew heavy and I had no other choice but to go to bed.

Harry left in the early hours of the morning and I didn’t see him off. I’d hardly slept a wink that night and just didn’t have the energy. I doubt he actually cared and knowing that hurt more than anything else.

My mom called a while later, forcing me to get out of my gloom and get ready for my appointment. I felt anxious as I dressed, partly because of Harry’s willful absence but mostly because this appointment marked a major milestone.

I really going to find out who this baby was. It was an actual human, a tiny human that I’d already felt move.

Finding out the gender felt like I was one step closer to meeting them.

I stared at a pamphlet about breastfeeding, nervously chewing at my lip as I sat on the exam table waiting for the doctor to arrive. The room feels like an icebox despite the humid weather outside and the various posters about childbirth, swaddling and SIDS plastered on the wall don’t do much to help my anxious mood.

I couldn’t help but feel this way at every appointment. I always feared something might be wrong with the baby and it would be my ignorance that caused it.

I would never be able to forgive myself.

“Helloo! Happy half-way mark!”

Dr. Fairchild enters the room with her famous tight-lipped smile. Her hair is up in a high-ponytail that seems uncharacteristic for her demure personality and a soft pink blouse peaks out from her lab coat. She clutches her usual clipboard under her arm.

I return the smile, a hand subconsciously resting against my bump.

“You look radiant! And you’ve grown a lot,” she continues, stopping at the sink to wash her hands.

I chuckle, amused at her use of the word radiant.

I was positive I was sporting designer bags under my eyes after spending much of the night before crying.

“I have. It doesn’t stop.”

Dr. Fairchild smiles as she plops down in front of her laptop, scrolling mindlessly at my files.

“No Dad today?”

My stomach sinks at the mention of Harry and the fresh anger from last night returns.

“No. He had a business engagement,” I reply, hoping not to sound too bitter.

“I see. Will you be finding out the gender of the little tadpole today?”

I chew at the corner of my lip in thought. Part of me would feel really guilty about getting to find out what we’re having without him, but the other part cannot gather the empathy. We’d both agreed we wanted to know but Harry had willingly decided to rush off to his job, completely aware of how momentous this occasion was.

Why should I continue to wait around for him to act like he cares?

A simple phone call should suffice.

“Yes. I’d like to.”

“So many young parents love the element of surprise and waiting until the baby is born. It’s refreshing to see couples that want to find out, “she smiles. “it’s hard for me to keep my mouth shut for all those months. Let’s talk a bit about how you’re feeling before the ultrasound.”

“I feel okay. Pretty dizzy and tired -lots of heartburn too- but nothing out of the ordinary.”

Dr. Fairchild adjusts the ultrasound machine before snapping on a pair of rubber gloves.

“Have you felt any movement?” she asks.

I nod slowly.

“They moved for the first time about a week ago and maybe a few more times a few days later. Is it normal?”

“Yep. Give them about another week or two and you should feel regular movement although all babies are different. Some are movers and shakers while others are relaxed,”

She flashes her tight-lipped smile again before turning on the machine.

“Ready to see what you’re having?”

My breath hitches in my throat at her question and the feeling of nervousness returns. I nod slowly before sliding my feet into the foot supports and reclining against the table.

She rubs the freezing gel against my stomach and I think about Harry. I can’t help but think about what he’s doing and why he was anywhere else besides right here next to me.

I can feel the tears stinging my eyes and I swallow the lump in my throat as Dr. Fairchild gently presses the wand against my belly. “Looks like we’ve got a little mister,” she grins.

I blink back the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes. The sound of the tiny, steady heartbeat is nearly deafening.

“Mister? As in a boy?”

“Yep,” she nods, moving the machine closer so that I can see. “you probably won’t be able to see his genitals very well but look how much he’s grown! His legs are so long.”

I stare at the grainy image. I am able to make out the tiny arms and legs curled up in my womb and the head that’s not as glaringly large as before. Compared to the previous ultrasound, the baby looks much more like a baby.

“A boy,” I whisper.

Dr. Fairchild chuckles.

“I’ll leave you to marvel at your beautiful baby boy while I go make some copies of today’s ultrasound, okay?”

I don’t respond, still fixated on the little bean on the screen. Hannah was right, I was having a boy.

I brush away a fallen tear with my thumb. I’d said before that I didn’t care what the baby would be but something finding out I’ve been carrying a baby boy makes me immensely sad. I’m not sure if it’s the emotional intensity of it all or my raging hormones but I can barely contain my tears.

I wipe the blue gunk off my bump with a scratchy paper towel, pull down my top, and hoist myself back onto the exam table. My hands fasten to my belly.

There was a baby boy inside.

Dr. Fairchild soon returns with a handful of prints. She glances at her clipboard with a smile.

“He’s healthy,” she declares.

For so long I’d called the baby “they”. It was going to take me a while to get used to the male pronouns.

“I’m happy,” I reply although I find myself second-guessing the words the moment they leave my mouth.

“Well. If you don’t have any more concerns I’d like to see you back in three weeks time. The bun in that oven’s halfway baked so we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the next few months,”

I chew at the corner of my lip, the feeling of the anger and sadness from the night before brewing in my chest.

The thought had come to me immediately following my falling out with Harry and I figured I might as well shelve it until our next big argument, but I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.

“There is something,” I speak sheepishly. “but I’m not sure if you could help.”

My hands feel as cold and clammy as they did the first time I sat in this room and I almost feel embarrassed.

Her face settles into a soft, concerned stare as she tucks the clipboard under her arm.

“We do try everything we can to help, River. What’s going on?”

I stare down at the tiled floor, unable to meet her gaze.

“I think- I think I need to see someone. Like a therapist,”

“I see,” Dr. Fairchild hums. “it’s not abnormal to have feelings of depression during pregnancy,”

But she didn’t understand. These weren’t feelings that were triggered by prenatal hormones. These were feelings I’d bottled up long before the little bean was ever planted in my womb

“We don’t have any services here at the clinic, but I can refer you to a therapist,” she continues.

It feels as if a heavy weight has been lifted off my chest. I brought up the idea of couple’s therapy to Harry a while back which didn’t end well. Just because he refused to participate didn’t mean I couldn’t go for myself.

I was tired of suppressing all of my emotions and Harry acting like nothing was wrong.

It was time to face my problems head-on- with or without him. **** I left the clinic in a daze with an intense craving for ice cream and a strong desire to be alone. I needed some time to absorb today’s news before I was bombarded with congratulations and excitement from anyone else.

I found a small ice cream parlor in the city limits that I’d never been to and ordered a bowl of vanilla with all the fruit I could pile on top. There was a quiet peace about sitting in front of the shiny glass window watching people walk past and curiously attempting to insert myself in their lives.

But the little baby boy inside me stirs, quickly reminding me of my reality.

I was having a son. A baby boy.

A baby boy who would probably make pillow forts and fight imaginary pirates in the living room and splash in mud puddles outside after I’d told him not to and sneak toads and lizards in his pocket to bring to me as presents.

I was having a baby boy.

A baby boy I was sure I’d love just as fiercely as I loved his father-maybe more- and had all the odds of becoming just like him.

I think that’s what scared me the most.

I found myself in another deep trance in the parking lot of Whole Foods. I needed to go inside to pick up a few groceries but had been sitting in my car for a good thirty minutes.

A light shower of rain pelted against the windshield when I felt my phone vibrating in my lap.

“Hello?”

I picked up the receiver, not even bothering to check the caller i.d.

“Hey, babe,” that familiar deep voice draws, causing a deep pang of anger to rise in my chest.

I grip the mobile tightly in my hand.

“Hello, Harry,” I reply plainly.

“I got off the plane a few hours ago and wanted to check on you. Figured you’d be done with your appointment, yeah?”

His voice sounds huskier than usual like it does the first thing in the morning. I’d left the OBGYN hours ago and he’d been sleeping.

“I am,”

There’s a pause and I wonder if he can tell that I’m not his biggest fan right now.

“Did you find out about the baby?”

I draw in a deep breath.

“It’s a boy. We’re having a son,” I reply hoping to sound happier than I feel.

He’s silent for a while and I can practically see him grinning on the other end.

“A boy,” he chuckles. “we’re going to have a boy. I’m so happy, darling. “

Happy. It’s the first time I’ve heard him use that word in so long.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I’m happy that you’re happy. I bet you secretly wanted a boy,”

“I should be home in a few short days, babe. I really wanted to be there today,”

I want to laugh at how sincere he thinks he sounds but instead, I feel the tears spill from my eyes.

I let out a deep, breathy sigh.

“Harry – don’t.” I hiss, pressing a palm to my belly.

How dare he act as if he’d stopped to blink before leaving. As If he hadn’t said all those nasty things to me the night before.

“I have a conference in a few hours and I’d like to get some sleep, Riv,” he speaks, reciprocating my sharp tone. “take care of yourself and our little lad, yeah?”

I nod as if he can see me, wiping away my tears.

“I will,”

Harry ‘s deep, groggy sigh echoes on the other end.

“I love you,”

He says the words slowly, painstakingly, nearly rehearsed. Like it’s not something he wakes up every morning waiting to say.

I know I should’ve said it back, but I haven’t gotten the energy.

I haven’t gotten the energy for him- for us.

But there’s a baby boy who needs us both.

Taglist: @sassamanda77, @fangirl509east

[carlottawllms]

Hi 🩷

Some of you might’ve noticed I’ve been a bit mia on here (if you haven’t that’s fine too 😂).

I needed a bit of time to focus on things other than being on here, especially as lately I noticed that I’d lost my motivation for writing entirely and it’s taken me a while to actually come to terms with that.

Writing has been something I’ve always enjoyed a lot and when suddenly I didn’t want to do it anymore I felt absolutely awful. Especially as I’d promised you all a lot…

I think it was mainly bc there was a lot going on, I’ve been going through a bit of a hard and stressful time and never really got to sit down and when I did, I didn’t feel like writing at all.

But it’s calmed down now and I’m hoping I’ll get my mojo back and will slowly get back to writing so I can finish that series and post a few other things for you 🙏🏼

I just wanted to let you know that atm I wont post regularly (until my series is finished) and I’ll only write when I 100% feel like it. Everything else would feel forced and I wouldn’t be able to put my heart in it. I really hope you’ll understand 🫶🏼

I also want to be back on here more again, talk about Mase and look at those wonderful photo we get blessed with 🤭

I missed you 🫶🏼🩷

[cherry-bomb-ships]

I've been in a bit of a slump lately (I think we all are tbh. Love u friends) but I think I'm slowly coming out of it because at the very least I can feel myself getting back on my bullshit with Mojo Jojo 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[andithiel]

End of year wrap up

I am so super late to this, but I’ve done this in the last few years and I think it’s a nice tradition to look back at the accomplishments I’ve achieved. 2022 was a very bleak year writing wise, and I’m happy to say that I’ve slowly started to get my mojo back a bit. My AO3 wordcount for 2023 was 36,936 words, but I’ve also posted some shorter things on tumblr, and I actually made a spreadsheet to track my progress and tally all my written words, including those that get deleted and also those not yet posted, and according to the spreadsheet I wrote 10k more. I still have a lot of WIPs hanging around in my drive, but I’ve managed to finish some of them, and I feel like I have more energy and excitement to finish some more, so, here’s hoping that 2024 will be the year that I actually end up with fewer WIPs at the end than at the beginning (something I tried back in 2020, before the world went up in flames).

Under the cut is what I published in 2023:

January 

Fading in Love (locked to logged in users) (Drarry, Explicit, 5k) I wrote this as a belated birthday present for @sassy-sassy3, it’s an 8th year secret relationship with a lil’ sprinkle of magical theory regarding the Dark Mark. 

February 

I decided to try a few prompts for HD Candyhearts and ended up having a lot of fun with them: 

Second Date AO3 tumblr (Drarry, Teen, 1,3k) with an insecure Draco after having spent the night with Harry.

The microfic Taste the love (for the prompt Sweet treats)

How deep is our love? AO3 tumblr (Drarry, Teen, 762 words) featuring established Drarry bickering and absolutely ridiculous Valentine’s cards.

The secret language of flowers AO3 tumblr (Drarry, Teen, 2k) featuring the classic tumblr post the fuck you bouquet.

Pillow microfic with Draco being a little shit

Charm me 8th year drabble FWB/secret relationship sort of vibes.

March

Take that ride (Drarry, Teen, 1,6k) I finally managed to write a fic idea that’s been scrambling around in my brain for ages. I wanted to create a mood and a feeling with this and I’m so happy with how it turned out.

I also wrote a short fuck or die drabble that I’m super proud of: Let me show you  

June

Hold back the tide (Drarry, Teen, 2k) Another idea that’s been with me for years that I finally got out (despite not having written the fic that preludes this).

October

Thunderstruck (locked to logged in users) (Drarry, Explicit, 8k) My god, my beast, this fic resisted me and to top it all off I got covid right when I was about to finish it. I struggled with this so damn much, also wanting to create a vividness that doesn’t really come natural to me, but I’m so happy with how it came out in the end. Plus I got to collab with the amazing @fictional who, as usual, knocked it out of the park with her glorious art.

November

The Potter Malfoy bathroom war of 2007 (locked to logged in users) (Drarry, Explicit, 8k) Another fic that’s been with me for some time, although “only” a year. I saw the prompt for last year’s Suds when claims had closed, so I tried to forget about it but it wouldn’t leave me. I had so much fun writing this, I love writing Harry and Draco bickering and fighting with each other when we as readers know it’s basically their form of foreplay. 

December

When it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night (Drarry, Teen, 6k) This was also a fic one year in the making. I started writing it to post on last New Year’s Eve, but I couldn’t finish it in five days (to my own astonishment), but I’m happy it got to marinate for a while because I added a scene with Scorpius that I’m very fond of.

I wasn't tagged by anyone and I'm sure people have already done this, but if this means you get another tag, consider pointing me to your own year wrap up so I can see it! @sassy-sassy3 @fictional @mystickitten42 @uncannycerulean @goblinmatriarch @phdmama @crazybutgood @dragonbornphoenix @wo2ash @rei382 @nv-md

[frazzledsoul]

I'm slowly making my way through Shameless season 7 and I just got to the point where Mickey has come back (MICKEY I MISSED YOU) and is asking Ian to run away with him and Ian is dismissing saying that he's crazy (Ian, pot meet kettle, HELLLOO) and Fiona is telling him not to go because if she had gone off with Steve (who she declares is a sociopath) she would have been so much worse off and Mickey will wreck Ian's life too. She seems to low-key blame Ian's issues on Mickey completely.

And I have to say.... revisionist history, much, both of you? Ian is legitimately mentally ill. Mickey not only did not cause his problems, he put everything he had into helping him even though he had no experience or language for getting Ian into the system and he rejected Svetlana and Yevgeny to make it happen. He was in the thick of it trying to take care of Ian and Ian resented him for it.

Fiona is another issue completely because overall I think Steve kept her stable. He was just the level of chaotic and caring she needed and he was there helping her take care of her family in season 1 and 3 to an extent none of her other partners (including Sean) were able to be. I even think in season 2 she was able to remain stable and a good caretaker of her siblings because she had chosen them over Steve and did not get involved with anyone long term and she reconciles with him after he helps take care of the family after Monica's suicide attempt. She's the one that turns on him after he has become somewhat of a househusband, mocking him for his problems and hit for his unhappiness at staying there. No, Steve did not want to remain in that situation permanently, but uh...Fiona didn't, either. After Steve left, she destroys her position at the cup company, almost gets Liam killed, and never really gets her mojo back as a guardian/de facto mom. She's in and out of the house living with various guys, kicks Debbie out and doesn't help her with her struggles (you're her guardian, Fiona, that's your job whether you like it or not), tells Sean she flat out doesn't want to be a guardian anymore, and seems to have given up on her responsibilities so she can run a failing business (which she now says she'll sell, costing Etta her home and Debbie a job that she needs). She broke up with Steve because he wanted to accomplish something on his own and get some distance from the family, only to fall into that role herself almost immediately afterwards. She rejected Steve when he came back to focus on Gus, only to reject Gus for Sean who had flat out told her he didn't want to be involved with her because he would relapse (and it turns out he was right, even if that's not her fault). Point to all of this being that Steve was mostly good to her and she seemed to hate it, and her life really hasn't been that much better off without him. I tend to think the fact that Ian has stabilized doesn't have a lot to do with Mickey. Mickey WANTED him better, he wanted him to take his meds, he wanted their relationship to survive. Ian just wasn't ready to get better quite yet.

Anyway, I'm not sure if this is an intended parallel or not but the rank hypocrisy of it is bothering me. Mickey and Steve were not the cartoon villains they were painted as.

[jinmukangwrites]

a place to call home

Fandom: Jedi Fallen Order / Survivor Rating: G Warnings: N/A Ao3 Notes: My older sister was playing Black Thunder (by Bad Wolves, Serj Tankian, and The Hu) and it took all my will power to not info dump about Jedi Fallen Order. I was very brave about it. Instead I wrote 2.6k word one-shot. I'm still so glad they brought The Hu back for more music in Survivor.

Summary: Pyloon's Saloon was named after his great-grandma; naturally, it was always a place meant for his family. Took Cal long enough to visit, but that's alright. He's not even that upset it took breaking the Mantis to get him here.

~~~°~~~

The saloon wasn't everything Greez had ever wanted, but it's his, and dammit if he won't make it everything he's ever wanted.

For now, it's incredibly shabby. Run down. The floorboards creak and there's some kind of mold on the walls. The furniture would have to be thrown out and replaced with things that are less stained and more inviting to use. He's pretty sure the booth chairs have blood stains on them, and vomit. The previous owner really didn't care about making the place homely, which is probably why no one was there to stop them from catching blaster-to-face disease.

The upholstery isn't even patolli-weave.

There are plenty of things that need repair. The upholstery for one, but the railing Monk uses to get around has a dent further down that prevents him from getting to the end of the battered bar, the walls need repainted, the doors leading upstairs are broken and the basement is covered in junk. That's not even the half of it. It's daunting.

Greez is so excited.

Well, the only thing he can do is start.

It's slow progress, but progress is progress no matter how small. He starts with the most essential stuff, only using Cere's money where he absolutely needs to. He'd like to save the majority of that for the actual food and beverages. Everything else? Well, he could fix the Stinger Mantis despite how many times Cal seemed determined to launch it into any imperial fleet he saw. He could keep the ship running after all that, how hard would a few automatic doors, the fish tank, and a music box be?

He could fix those on his own.

He works, and he works, every day until eventually he's able to actually serve customers. Doma comes in first, Turgle at her heels, but it's more pleasantries than anything. She's sober, most alcohols don't agree with her and she doesn't think they ever will, but she does try some food while Turgle chatters both their ears off after one drink. Doma hardly ever visits again unless she makes a particularly good profit at her store and wishes to treat herself to his food. Turgle comes all the time, which worries Greez at first because he talks to anyone else who enters; mostly one-time patron prospectors. One-time is a loose word, most of these prospectors end up dead looking for things they probably shouldn't.

Though, slowly, Greez gets more regular that Turgle doesn't chase away. Sparse, but there. He even, to his disdain, gets visits from the local gang. Those Bedlam Raiders give him bad mojo, but as long as they're not challenged they don't do anything besides antagonize a little.

It's good.

Greez misses Cere, he wishes she'd visit, but they at least talk whenever they're both free. Merrin visits whenever she passes by, as rarely as that is, which he appreciates; he's long since admitted he adores her even if she's a spooky witch that there's a slight possibility she's waiting for the perfect opportunity to jump him and blood sacrifice him. And Cal...

Cal.

It's impossible to not care for the kid, even though he hardly ever responds to his messages. He's busy with other people, fighting the good fight, probably scratching the Mantis to shreds. Cal's angry with him, Greez knows this. After Cere and Merrin left, it was only the two of them. Three, including BD-1. But two, because BD-1 and Cal were practically the same entity anyways. Greez knew that him leaving had hurt Cal, but... Greez just couldn't fly anymore. He couldn't handle that danger that Cal chased. For the first time in Greez's life, he wanted to land and live calmly. He's had enough of space, enough of the Empire.

So no, Cal hardly talks, nor does he visit, but Greez does his best to keep the kid in mind anyways. Cal can't stay away forever. Someday, he's going to break the Mantis just right and come back with his tail between his legs because he only knows how to take apart starships, not fix them. Greez did his best to teach him to fix some basic stuff, but Cal ripped out the broken bits so roughly that Greez nearly had an aneurysm. He ended up having to replace some wiring Cal had thought was "useless". Yeah, useless to resell. Expensive to replace new. Didn't teach him that in scrapper school.

Greez hopes Cal wrecks the Mantis soon. It's been too long. He even misses that little droid and how he always seems to purposely be underfoot while Greez cooked.

He misses Cal so bad that he almost begins to subconsciously fix things up in the saloon with Cal in mind. He keeps all of them in mind, of course, he named the place after his great-grandma this place is meant for family, but Cal's the only one who still seems lost in life, who's scrambling through the Galaxy trying to find footing but not really knowing what he wants. It's an easy decision to make the basement for Cal. Kid needs a home, and Greez will make sure there's always one waiting for him when he needs it.

"It's not the best, but it'll do until I find you something better," Doma says, one day, months into Greez's stay. He's become good friends with Doma, she's probably the only one who truly understands leaving the fast life because it became too much.

Greez holds a small jukebox in his lower pair of hands, looking it over and wondering slightly how she had gotten her hands on it. It's dingy. Battered. Probably isn't too loud. But he trusts Doma when it comes to this stuff, she doesn't skip out on him, she always does the best she can. She's the one who got him all the Patolli-weave in the first place. If this small jukebox is the best she can do, then he's happy. It's better than nothing. It's not like he can afford a live band like all the big cantina's have in more trafficked corners of the Galaxy, let alone pay live performers. So, something small that can probably only be heard when you're a good few meters within its range is something he can accept compared to the sad silence.

"It's radio is broken," Doma says, though she laughs, "not like that matters. The Koboh-abyss blocks most of the good channels. There's some tracks in there though, and I can always see if I can keep an eye out for more music if you want anything different. I tried to put things on there that would fit the atmosphere of Pyloon's."

Greez opens the compartment of the music box and sure enough, there's an old cartridge-like device with a frugal list of songs. He doesn't recognize any of the songs, let alone the artists, but once again, he trusts Doma.

"How much do I owe ya?" He asks. Doma gives him a price. It's a little high in his opinion, but she's a business woman and not one to make discounts even for friends. He happily hands over the credits, then shuts the compartment. Before he leaves, however, a thought crosses his mind.

"Hey," he asks, "have you heard of The Agasar?"

-o-o-o-o-

Just like Greez hoped, Cal eventually breaks the Mantis enough to seek him out. It's great to see the kid, but it's so unexpected it hardly registered even after saying hi to BD-1.

The kid looks like he's barely been sleeping, let alone eating, though he at least looks like he's gotten plenty of sun. There's freckles everywhere, way more than what he had after Greez first nabbed him off that sunless sopping-wet rock Bracca.

Luckily, the food and sleep problem is exactly what Greez was expecting.

He's careful to not baby Cal too much, not when Cal's clearly hurting about something. It probably took a lot of convincing on BD's part to get Cal over here and Greez knows that topics like "settle down" "live your own life" and "pack away the lightsaber for a little bit" will only start arguments. Cal's at a point in his life where he doesn't yet see that he has value beyond being a weapon, but Greez is hoping that the right pushes here and there will get him there.

For now, he introduces Cal to his room. It's chock full of things that used to belong to Cal and things Greez plans on giving to Cal. There's nothing else to call it besides his room. Cal seems shocked by the space so clearly set aside and prepared for him, and his face softens into a hurt kind of touched that Greez knows means he appreciates the room a lot but doesn't think he can accept it.

Give it time, Greez.

Honestly it's a miracle Cal managed to sleep at all. The bed must have been comfy because when Greez goes down the next morning to check on him, he's out like a light. Doesn't shift at all, not even a roll of movement behind his eyelids. BD-1 charges silently besides him, looking all content and almost cute. Greez can't help but watch the two of them for a moment, drinking in the peace, wishing Cal could feel like he deserves a little of it.

And sure, the morning starts with a bit of an argument, one that Greez has to end up dropping when Cal goes silent, signaling the conversation is over. He wishes he can shake sense into him, show him that he doesn't need to hold the line all the time. But for now, he can at least make sure Cal knows that Greez has a place for him. A home.

"And Greez... I'll think about what you said."

That's all he can ask for.

And it's somehow not a surprise that Cal comes back a few hours later through the front door looking all dusty and giddy. Greez had been busy trying to turn away some guy with more muscle in one pectoral than what Greez had on his entire body, but Cal quickly introduces Bode as a friend.

Cal also introduces Zee, an ancient Jedi droid, raving about old prospector legends; the treasure planet of Tanalorr. Whatever exhaustion and sadness weighed Cal down this morning has lifted with the breath of adventure, and Greez isn't about to turn him away from it.

However, when Greez offers to fix the Mantis while Cal goes out to check out the forest array, he has to stop the kid from leaving right out the door not three minutes after walking in it.

"Hold on," Greez says, stopping Cal in his tracks. "Have you even eaten anything since arriving?"

Cal pauses, and Greez knows the answer. Greez brushes his hands on his clothes and starts heading to the kitchen. "Grab some seat."

"Greez," Cal halfheartedly argues, slumping down at the bar while that Bode guy chuckles and sits down the next stool over.

"The array's already waited a few hundred years, what's a couple more hours?" Greez asks, looking for his mitts. It's been awhile since he's cooked anything himself, the saloon has a set menu and he's already shown Monk how to cook all those things. "Monk's fixing up Zee, let me fix up you."

He hears Cal chuckle, he says something to Bode, but Greez can't hear because he's officially in the kitchen and turning on the stoves. 

"Oh—krif-" he stumbles, barely managing to stop himself from dropping his nice glass pan while BD-1 boops happily and skitters out of the kitchen. Greez shakes his head. 

He makes an old casserole recipe that his great grandma got from her great grandpa. He has to replace some of the ingredients with other things, as Lateron spices are both hard to get his two pairs of hands on and also sometimes poisonous to human stomachs. He wouldn't want to poison Cal on day two of him finally visiting.

Now that's a thought, he could mildly poison Cal and force him to get some more sleep. He chuckles to himself, he'd never do that.

He brings the casserole out a good hour later, finding Cal lazily slumped over the bar, his finger tracing the rim of a cup. Monk must have visited for a moment between working on repairing Zee, Greez hopes he didn't give the kid anything too strong. Bode is nowhere to be seen, but once Cal notices him arriving he perks up and explains Bode went to the restroom.

That might keep the man busy for a while, Greez thinks happily, the toilet always clogs and Bode seems like the kind of guy who would rather suffer trying to unclog a public toilet instead of walking out and pretending he didn't do it.

He gives Cal a larger portion than what's a normal serving size, and Cal eagerly digs in, closing his eyes in satisfaction after the first bite. "Spirits, I missed your cooking, Greezy money."

Greez chuckles then gives himself a serving, then hops onto his specially made chair. They eat in comfortable silence for a while. Cal seems content, lazy, and eager all at the same time. Sure, the kid thinks he can't stay in one place for long, but now he has something to do here. Greez can't help but be thankful for Zee, more thankful than he's been for any droid in his entire life. He'll be seeing more of Cal for a little while longer.

Before Cal finishes his helping, he pauses, his eyebrows coming together as he chews slowly. Concerned, Greez looks at him, wondering if he accidentally burned some vegetables or something, but Cal swallows and looks at Greez with wide eyes.

"Is that... The Agasar?"

Greez listens, and sure enough, Eseerin Vasahina plays softly in the distance where Greez's old jukebox sits. Cal stands and follows the sound of the music towards the beat down stage. After a second, Greez follows. Cal has this dumb grin on his face, his eyes are closed and his head bops slightly to the thundering drums and screeching violins.

"I thought you didn't like The Agasar," Cal says after a second, opening his eyes to look down at Greez. Stars, the kid is practically beaming.

And yeah, Greez doesn't really care for their music, they're loud and whenever Cal tried to play their music over the Mantis speakers, it always ended up giving Greez a headache.

Greez folds both pairs of arms, trying to not look as proud of himself as he feels. "I'm surprised you don't like them too, considering Sorc Tormo tried to have you mauled to death to the tune of one of their songs."

Cal's grin widens. "Greez, if I had to die to the tune of a song, I would love it to be Sugaan Essana."

"Morbid," Greez says, and Cal laughs.

Greez watches as Cal returns to appreciating the music, something warm settling somewhere in his stomach. Cal may think he can't have a place to call home, but dammit if Greez won't pound into his head that the saloon, at the least, could be. Maybe this mission for Tanalorr will keep Cal around long enough to see that.

For now, Greez will just support Cal where he can. Food, Mantis repairs, a bedroom, and some music.

As Cal uses the back door to leave the saloon while Greez goes with Bode to lock up the front doors, he finds himself content with just that much. Cal probably has no plans to stick around longer than what this Tanalorr mission would allow, but man it's good to have him around even for that long.

He's a good kid, and Greez will cherish his presence while he has it, and make sure Cal understands that here, at Pyloon's Saloon, he will always have a place to return to.

[trappedtowers]

Trapped Towers Dev History ~ How We Got Here (Final Part)

(Middle art piece done by @/evilredyoshis)

CORRECTION FOR PART 2: THE TRAPPED TOWERS REBOOT ANNIVERSARY IS IN MAY. I THOUGHT IT WAS JUNE. NO IT IS MAY 15TH. I GASLIT MYSELF FOR OVER A YEAR WHAT.

Hey again everybody !!

So we reached the beginning of the current stage of Trapped Towers last time, the official beginning to the reboot in May 2021. This final part will cover a bit less I do think, mainly because a lot of the old/scrapped content I think I'd like to go a bit more in-depth with in seperate posts. However, there's still stuff to go through. It's gonna be a lot less story of Trapped Towers and a bit more sappy emotional though, hope you all don't mind.

So, for the final time in this mini series - lets hope into it shall we?

May 2021 - Present ~ The New Trapped Towers:

I will always remember those first few months of the new TeamT VERY VERY fondly. It wasn't perfect, we weren't all fully motivated, but we sure were making progress slowly. TeamT was always very chaotic - and sure some of it hasn't aged great and isn't the best to look at, I should have cut some stuff instantly and cut ties with others quick - but nights like staying in voice call with some of the best team members I could have asked for just screwing about, playing video games and screensharing it in about the worst way, and coming up with some amazing ideas for the project. I'll remember those fondly.

Stuff like this is what makes projects like this worth it. The memories and friends - as corny as that is.

But hey, you're here for the story, not for the sappy "the real trapped towers was the friends we made along the way" schpiel. So, what happened in the months from the Trapped Towers reboot beginning? Well, we worked. We made songs. We made new concepts, new art, and more. The story I'd written made - and I won't say who and if they out themselves AGAIN it's their own fault - made somebody CRY. Have you ever made somebody cry from a story you've written. The initial thoughts is "oh no they're crying, that's sad I didn't wanna make them sad" but very quickly the giddyness hits.

Emotional aspects of storytelling are one of the things I've been wanting to hit for ages. To have somebody connect to a character and their story to a point where it brings genuine emotion - it's the best. Not only for the reader's attatchment and immersion, but to you. To know you managed to create a story that compelling that it caused that. I won't drag this out much longer, but it's really something I'm aiming for with Trapped Towers and I do hope to get you all with some of these plot points.

Back to the timeline though, things began to slow further around November, with most things basically halting in December - though shoutout to the artists and musicians who carried us that whole time. January was a break month, February we hoped to be back in action but things didn't quite resume for a while. April picked it up a little more, with new art and concepts and writing happening, but not much else.

It's not a satisfying end to this story is it. We just kind of... died off.

But it's not the end, is it?

This was something I said in the team general channel in February 2022 and I still hold by it to this day. Trapped Towers has been a major part of my life since the day it was first made, and it always will be. I'm forever grateful for how things have turned out, even if it feels like the project never gets anywhere.

So until the day comes where I can release this, I'll keep posting, writing etc. I will keep working until it happens no matter how long it'll take. That's the end of the timeline and sappy stuff for now though. Lets go through some content.

Content Highlights:

(TO NOTE A LOT OF OLD CONTENT IS MADE BY VARIOUS OLD TEAM MEMBERS AS WELL AS MYSELF. @/evilredyoshis like usual, JackInASack who I believe does not have tumblr, Mojo, StellarDee, and many many more names I wish I could list. A full Trapped Towers credits list will happen one day, every name who was involved will be respected and honoured <3)

Y'know instead of "old content" this time, we've got highlights instead. Some of it will be old yes, but there's too much overlap with yesterday for me to just show old content because then there'd be barely anything.

MOST RECENT TRAPPED TOWERS SOUNDTRACK

ALSO TWO WHOLE DEVLOGS YOU CAN LOOK AT !!

AND THE SECOND ONE !!

Y'know I put that a lot of this was made by old team members, and yeah especially in the soundtrack more people appear but a lot of this art is done by Madeline PFFTT. Shoutout to her once again @/evilredyoshis she was actually the goat of TeamT. Did so so much.

There's SO SO much content I could share here and I would love to share it ALL. Unfortunately I don't want to ram this post with too much. If we do get a game out of this, I'll be sure to include a gallery with EVERYTHING.

There's also a lot of great animatics done. You can guess who by at this point. I have already got permission from her to use her old work for all these posts, so I'll likely do a post dedicated to the relevant/appropriate ones and explaining a bit behind them.

But seriously to end this off, I just want to say again how grateful I am for everyone and everything that has happened to Trapped Towers in these past 6 years. To anyone who sees this if you were a part of TeamT, still (technically) are a part of it despite how nobody is really doing anything besides me lol, or if you've just been following the project. Thank you. Thank you so much.

That's all from me. I'll speak to you all again soon.

- JustDaniel

[misscrawfords]

Hello, end of the year ask 4, 19 and 22, please. Best wishes for next year and I hope you had a good holiday!

Thank you and the same to you! :)

4. Movie of the year?

I watched some great films this year. I think it's got to be a toss-up between Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning which was just A Very Good Time With Hayley Atwell and kicked off a summer of watching all the MI films or Wonka that I saw with Year 7 and was just utterly charming. I went in with no expectations but was blown away - it was just delightful!

19. What’re you excited about for next year?

A lot of things! Mainly because after several years of stess and anxiety and feeling like there was nothing in my future which was really caused by my father's illness, I am slowly getting my mojo back and starting to look towards the future more. I'm looking forward to feeling my way hopefully to some big decisions about what I want my future to look like; it's nerve-wracking but it's time. I want change and I think it's coming in 2024. I'm being gentle with myself because, y'know, ~2023, but I am in such a better place mentally to start this process of discovery. More prosaically, I'm looking forward to travelling with my mum in the Easter holidays. She hasn't been abroad in years and I'm going to plan a trip with her, probably to France but maybe Italy. I'm excited about spending time with my wonderful friends and planning things with them. I'm just - glad I've got things to look forward to.

22. Favorite place you visited this year?

Big year for European travel actually. I think my favourite place was Krakow. I absolutely fell in love with the city - never been to Poland before. It was so clean and safe and pleasant to exist it. I could see myself living there easily. Moreover, I really connected with my Jewish ancestry in the Kazimierz (Jewish quarter) and while I wouldn't say I enjoyed visiting Auschwitz, I think it was an important thing to do and I learned a lot. And I got to meet @fradine which was awesome!

End of year asks

[lifeinahole27]

I promise I'm alive

Eventually, I'm gonna sit down and write out where I've been for the last six months. I owe a huge apology to @grimmswan for never finishing her Christmas fic, first and foremost. And mostly I just wanted to let everyone know I'm still around. Here's the Sparknotes:

Last June, I got passed over for a promotion to AGM at the hotel I was working at. I was promoted instead to "Front Office Manager" and finally got to move to a daytime schedule after we found a new auditor to replace me.

On September 1, I had to fire my first employee ever - that same auditor that I was so excited to replace me - and so that was a fun experience. It meant that I was back to splitting audit duties with the other guy.

We tried to get one of the other desk agents to learn audit. The first attempt did not go well. He was supposed to cover during the weekend of my brother's wedding when I was off work and I genuinely don't remember how we worked the schedule for that now, but I know it was tenuous for a minute.

That same guy that didn't do well on the audit quit via text message the week of Thanksgiving, when the General Manager was on vacation, essentially fucking the rest of us for the rest of the week. He was my best friend at the job. I have not spoken to him since.

At Christmastime, the AGM essentially yelled at me as if I was a child for correcting her on something that she was doing improperly. Her mindset was that she had been working (at another property) for 15 years so she knew how to do her job and there's more than 1 way to do something and I needed to accept that. (Fun sidenote: I had been at that property for almost 4 years and she was doing something wrong. That's the fun thing about different properties. What works at one may not work the same at another.)

After that incident, I was job hunting. I finally got to go to a Christmas luncheon at this hotel (I was always working audit in the years before, so I had never gone before) but I was so miserable the entire time I was there but did a great job acting.

I was forced to work until 12:30am on NYE because my manager was convinced it was going to be a busy day. As I had worked NYE twice before and J had worked it once, we knew it was not going to be busy enough for two people. But still I was forced to work the one day I hate working (thanks to SA memories) and that was the final straw for me.

On January 4, I got a call from the company I had applied to at the recommendation of one of my previous GMs from my old hotel. A few days later, I did a pre-interview/info session with the Talent Manager. Two days after that, I did my interview with a group of managers. And on January 10, I handed in my notice to the hotel.

January 30, I left the hotel at 7:15am, no longer employed by it.

On February 6, I flew out to Denver and spent a week with a BFF I made in the CS community. We had a writers' retreat while I housesat for my sister while she was on vacation. I flew home on February 13 and got my company issued computers set up.

I started the new employment on February 14. My entire upstairs is almost completely renovated after three months of working on it after 7 years of depression. I have quit smoking. I am slowly getting my writing mojo back. My GP and therapist are both astonished at how happy I am.

In the months since I left, I have fully realized that I was essentially being abused at my last job. I was just so driven by my goals there that I was willing to excuse all of the bullshit in hopes of making it in my career. I asked for my vacation time a couple months ago and no one guilt-tripped me because I'm going on vacation in June. I told them I would be happy to take my laptop and work while I'm there and they told me to not even think about it. To go have fun and enjoy my vacation.

I don't know what all of this means for my CS writing. I don't know if that will come back. I would like to. I would love to finish some projects that are half-written. I would love to do another year of cards and finish that not-so-secret santa fic for @grimmswan. I just have to be a little more patient with myself and see what happens.

Okay, that wasn't as short as I expected it to be, because I guess it was a lot. Anyway, hi everyone. This is the happiest I've been since 2015. I'm happy to be back. <3

[lavender-long-stories]

Nari's Feral on Display Part 1

spoilers for Lavender Clouds

This is the comment that started it all.

I read this everyonce and while when I need motivation to keep writing or just need my mojo back.

Thank you chaos nugget Nari (should I change your banner from ‘Nari I Blame You’ to ‘Chaos Nugget Nari’??) for reading through my chaotic bull shit idea of Hinata joining the Akatsuki. 

“Hinata was literally living her cotagecore dream, meanwhile Tsunade in her office like "THE FUCK IS SHE DOING WITH ITACHI?"”

I don’t come back to Tsunade’s POV when she finds out about Hinata joining the Akatsuki or is spotted with Itachi, but I am sure there was a scream so loud that birds outside ran away in fear, or maybe she knows about Itachi >.> and she thinks it's good that they two defunct heirs found each other. The true questions is: is Tsunade a Itachi x Hinata shipper? Does she believe the rumor that Hinata married Itachi?? 

Who do you think would have believed it?

“But my girl ended up in Suna, I ended up shipping gaahina”

This story is a roller coaster of the last man Hinata is around is the one I shipper her with the most. Having a cute moment with Gaara being his roommate, quiet moments with Itachi, late night tea with Sasori, mourning with Sasuke, and damn even missions with Kisame. (I need to stopped, some one stop me) 

“Give Gaara more hugs and head pats, the challenge.”

Gaara getting so attached to someone so completely kind to him after years of not letting himself trust people and only really starting to open up with Naruto and his siblings is gut-wrenching and the reason I had to write a GaaHina immediately I needed him to have the love he deserved (and would be able to get in this story)

“She really has a type, huh?”

Hinata’s type is broken and just needs a hug.

“I shit you not, I heard the wedding bells inside my head when Itachi first showed up”

Oh, everyone ships ItaHina soo hard in the beginning. 

“This story made me ship itahina as well”

Soft harem roller coaster XD

“Hinata is literally the only character I can see babying fucking criminals, it was so fucking funny when she was treating Itachi and Kisame (and Deidara, and Hidan) and they didn't want the whole treatment and she was like "I will take care of you whether you want it or not" and pointing the metaphorical knife at them.”

I think that this is what kept writing this fun. Hinata slowly becoming irreplaceable in their lives through forcibly taking care of them.

“"Itachi’s lip quirked up. He thought this was funny. Hinata’s face turned red." Kiss him on the mouth then :D”

Hahahahaha calm down Nari XD

“Overall, cutting your hair can be really freeing... As well as joining a terrorist organization because some handsome stranger smiled at ya, we've all been there, girl.”

Heartbreak? Cut your hair. Run away from home. Join terrorists. Your coping mechanism is valid, queen. XD

Lavender Clouds

Pairing: Sasuke x Hinata Rating: T

Description: Hinata runs away from home into the arms of the Akatsuki. Bonds with Itachi. Saves his brother. Learns to reverse Gentle Fist. Raises a demon baby?

Tags: Adventure  |  Fluff and Angst  |  Romance  |  Slow Burn  |  Happy Ending  |  Akatsuki Hyuuga Hinata  |  Hyuuga Hinata-centric  |  Akatsuki Uchiha Sasuke  |  Canon-Typical Violence

@nikandrros