#I wanted to do a painting this time just to prove to myself I could

[lifenconcepts]

honestly, as someone who is a wolf therian, and also interested in human and animal psychology, I must add that most people can be recognised for reverting to a more simple mental state when sick, I’m unsure if any study has been done on it but through my own experiences and of those I knew I can find that the mind just goes into a survival mode and turns off the more complicated functions to be able to focus on those which are needed for fighting whatever infection or harm the body is baring currently and to be able to sustain yourself enough to continue towards life, and it can be simple to paint it as your identity because when you’re so aware that you’re an animal (or any term or belief, at that) then you tend to subconsciously seek out proof of that, even if that would’ve otherwise gone unnoticed. Not denying you of yourself but just pointing out that it’s a phenomenon many experience, albeit usually seen as reverting to the state of a ‘child’ than animal- given that most of the more mature logic is shunned in favour of simple and coherent conclusions, it could be through behaviour that immediately work as this snappy “I don’t feel okay and so I must be in danger and so I must fight” when usually it comes through as “I feel a bit under the weather, I wonder what I had done to invoke this, perhaps my head hurts because I’ve spent a bit too long on this activity, then to rest up I’ll stop doing it and allow my body to recover, maybe even drink some water because I haven’t done so in a while”.. keep in mind that this often happens without even consideration! It’s these neural impulses within our mind that can snap around at something close to light speed and not always is worded out (hell, I don’t even have an internal monologue!) yet the understanding is still there. Okay but what I also wanted to say is that if bedridden, our silly instincts also come to play more loudly than when healthy, because there’s less of that conscious self that tries to stop us (we always tend to think of how we look and act, as it so happens, and hide or fake behaviour to come across as what we think others want of us), so even those who don’t identify as animals may find themselves speaking through noises, acting in ways they usually wouldn’t (staring, tilting head, etc), and presenting with things we usually associate with animals. If you look for it, there’s so much more we have in common with other species! Humans and creatures do have a lot of similarities after all! We also sometimes tend to seek our touch, like cats, or on the contrary change our minds and want our space and boundaries, also like cats. Or want to run around and spend time with a person we adore, like a dog.. we wish to fly - like the birds, and comfort in repetition is nearly a universal pattern. Basically I’m just sharing my little say on this, without any harm intended.

ah, sorry for the ramble.. I like writing and this just prompted me to share what I’ve learnt on this topic so far. Thanks for the opportunity but sorry for the response if you didn’t want it haha..

I’ve had a few of such encounters myself! Some times where I feel like an animal, usually a hound, and other times just like a weakened person. It can just come as a sharp realisation but usually for me came across just with ‘if you pay attention to it, you’ll find stuff that meet your beliefs’. Similar to how optimists often spot the good stuff and that proves their point and makes them like life more, while those with critical worldviews tend to ignore the good in favour of the negative and say ‘hey! See!? There is bad!! So I was right in thinking the world is awful!’ When in fact it can just be the same exact balance of situations to one another, but then again, each individual is made different and goes through life differently. Still! There are always occasional similarities that tie us closer and create bonds!!

I got really sick recently, to the point where I was bed ridden in so so much pain and something I found is that I revert to some of animal instincts a lot more then when I’m healthy.

For example I got so extremely productive of my den and pack member. To the point where I was basically growling at people who were being too friendly. My teeth where nearly always beared when in others presence and I was so worried that my home (friend included) was in danger.

I could also not stomach anything that wasn’t in a foxes diet (bread, certain meets) I was only eating fruit and chicken at one point.

Overall it was a very weird experience 😁

[daikaiju-arts]

A redraw of the train scene from Spirited Away but with Pomni and Gangle (bonus Bubble) instead

[loverboybrightsideghost]

any other trans people ever look at yourself in the mirror, hunting for more masculine/feminine features that you want, and finding even the smallest hint of a hint of, say, facial hair, or roundness in the face, and think maybe, just maybe, that it is miniscule, almost imperceptible evidence is proof your body has realized it's been mistaken all along? like maybe your REAL hormones have finally been activated and now your body has started transitioning to what it should have been all along?

[daisiescomelate]

Collision

Prompt: Unfortunately, Sylus decided to drop by your apartment for a surprise visit the same day Zayne agreed to stay the night.

Content: Zayne&Reader, Sylus&Reader. no proofread sorry.

masterlist

Credits rolled on the screen and you cheered with a round of applause. Zayne followed your lead with his usual lack of intention to show enthusiasm and a stoic face. As the black screen led to a final musical number with all the crew in colorful outfits, you stretched your arms over your head and rolled your neck to get rid of the stiffness of laying on the floor for so long.

The lights were down and the cortines closed to add to the atmosphere. You sang to the tune, following the choreography you knew by heart with exaggerated passion, pushing Zayne’s arm to encourage him to join you. He didn’t, of course. Instead, he straightened his crossed legs and stood with his socks over the sheets and cushions you had thrown over the carpet to get yet another extra layer between you and the cold tile.

You held a high note holding an invisible microphone to your face, throwing your head back and striking a pose. You then motion to Zayne to take the spotlight for the next line.

“C’mon, Zayne! I know you’re a good singer!” You teased him.

“I prefer to keep my talents to myself.” Mr. Too Cool To Party pated over his dress pants to shape them back into their ironed form. “And lower your volume, you’ll get complaints from the neighbors.”

You didn’t let his attitude kill your mood –but you did quiet down a little bit, just in case.

“What time is it?” You asked as the music died down and the screen faded back to black. The sudden pain and tingly sensation that took over when you moved your leg warned you not to try to get on your feet just yet.

Zayne fixed up the sleeves of his shirt, pulling them back down and buttoning them up. He flicked his wrist so he could see his watch properly, then walked to the closest window and pulled the heavy clothes just a small fraction out of the way with one finger. The sky was a dark mass sprinkled with silver dust. The city lights painted reds, whites and yellows as far as the eye could see.

“Twenty minutes ‘till two.” Said Zayne, letting his finger drop and covering the view back down again. And moving to the stitch on the wall to turn on the lights of the living room.

You blinked.

“Wow.” Almost two in the morning?

You invited Zayne over for a movie marathon. It was a plan you had been postponing for a few weeks since his schedule was often messy and unpredictable. You guessed maybe now that you had finally been able to do it you got a little bit over excited and ‘Just one more movie’ turned into this.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was this late.” You scratched your neck and felt a tweak of guilt in your chest.

“It’s okay. Tomorrow is my day off. Well… today.” You winced. Zayne rarely had a good night of sleep pulling so many extra hours at work. To top it off, you picked him up from the hospital that afternoon after a long shift and he was too stubborn to take a nap. You didn’t even want to think how long he had been awake by now. He was certainly in no condition to drive.

“Do you want to stay the night?”

The question seemed to have taken him off guard because he stiffed before squaring his back again. He coughed and turned his face to look at you from over his shoulder.

“There is no need for that.”

“You have been awake for too long for it to be safe to sit behind the wheel.”

“I can just call a cab for that.” He pulled his phone from his pocket as if to prove he could.

“How long is it going to be until you get home? Aren’t you tired?”

“It’ll be forty minutes at most.” He typed on his password and set a stubborn hand over his waist. You looked at the side of his profile, and bit your lower lip. If there was one person who was more bullheaded than you, that was Dr. Zayne.

You made an effort to stand and walked to his side, trying to pick your face between him and his phone screen to force him to look at you for a second. He ignored you.

“We had plenty of sleepovers when we were kids, it would be nice to do it again. You rarely come to my apartment if it’s not to pick me up for something.” His expression didn’t show any sign of hesitation. You decided to take out the heavy ammunition. Knowing Zayne’s weak spot for puppy eyes after seeing him give in to his smallest patiences’ trickery, you hucked your hands around his arm and with pouty lips –Zayne’s health came before dignity– you attempted an attack.

“Please? I’m worried about you.”

Zayne looked down and away from the screen when you tugged on his arm. The words he was about to say died on his tongue and after a stuttering couple of minutes, an emotion you couldn’t catch flashed across his eyes. Probably the effect of your inexperienced pleading. God, you were sure you looked ridiculous right now.

I do this for your own good, Zayne.

His expression went from startled to a frown, but you didn’t budget. You could see a hint of internal struggle, which meant that it was working, so you squeezed his arm a little bit closer to your chest and waited.

Finally, the struggle gave way to resignation and you knew you'd had won.

“Fine.” He said in a cold voice. He held the bridge of his nose with two fingers and closed his eyes with exasperation, “but let go of my arm.”

You let a triumphal smile spread across your face since he couldn’t see you and you let go. “Great!” You sang, “We’ll have to find you some clothes for you to sleep on. I’m sure I have some oversize pieces at the back of my closet. Let me look for them.”

You ran off to your room, leaving a distress doctor sighing at your back.

No more than fifthteen minutes later, Zayne was on your biggest (oldest) black hoodie, stretched and torn after so many washing cycles, and a pair of gray sweatpants that barely got to his calf. You had retrieved a back up toothbrush from a dark corner of the cabinet –still in its box–, and he was brushing in the bathroom while you finished picking up the stuff in the living room.

“You are too big for the couch, I’m telling you. And you can’t sleep while sitting down, your neck will kill you tomorrow.” One argument had turned into the next. Now you were trying to explain to a six-foot-one man how tall he was. “And you could sleep on the floor if you wanted, but my bed is big. I don’t know why this is such a big deal for y—”

The doorbell rang from across the room giving you a startle.

Shi—.

“Who rings someone’s doorbell at two in the morning?” You asked, annoyed. What a way to scare the living hell out of someone.

You heard Zayne’s voice muffled from the bathroom.

“Probably some kids playing around.” His voice was followed by the sound of water running as he rinsed his mouth.

You scolded and dropped the cushions in their designated spot over the dining chairs. With angry stumps, you moved to the small screen next to the door. The security camera showed the image of the main door of the building.

Empty.

There was no one in front of the glass windows, not even a shadow under the iridescent light of the streets.

They run off. Rascals.

You prompted both your fits over your waist. “Seriously, that’s just annoying. I don’t see how this would be entertaining for anyone.”

“You can’t take in a joke?” Zayn’s voice sounds closer than before. He had walked off the bathroom and was moving to the kitchen area with that signature faint smirk in his lips.

“Oh, shut up.” You shushed him. You heard a low chuckle and the clinking of glass as he looked for something in one of the cabinets. You turned back to the screen, bent over and squinted your eyes, paying close attention for any sign of movement. Nothing.

Fine. You will let it go this time, but next time you would teach them not to play pranks on a hunter’s house.

You straighten back up and turn around. Immediately, someone knocked on the door behind you.

“What—!” You jumped.

“What was that?” Zayne asked from the kitchen.

“I– A neighbor?” You asked, your voice full of doubt even as you said it. You turned back to look at the door.

Oh, fuck. It was the singing, wasn’t it?

You groaned and covered your face, feeling the blood rushing to your face, making it go hot.

“I told you they would complain.” Said Zayne all coky, seemingly having the same idea as you.

“Be quiet. I stopped singing a while ago, this is probably because you were being stubborn about the couch. They probably hear us screaming at each other from one room to the other.”

“Well, I don’t live here, so this is your problem.”

You sighed. You were regretting your merciful soul. Maybe you should have let him fall asleep behind the wheel so he would learn his lesson by himself. No, you slapped your face with both hands. Leave those dark thoughts. One problem at a time.

Taking a deep breath, you faced the door. You fixed your appearance as best as you could before taking the doorknob into your hand and plastering an apologetic smile into your face. You opened the door slowly, and embarrassingly showed yourself from the crack of the door.

The apology dried down in your lips and your eyes went wide when you saw the person at the other side. The shock was such that you weren't able to hold back the surprise pitch in your voice when a word escape you,

“Sylus?!”

“Lower your volume, kitten. It’s late.” He laughed and held a finger to his lips. He stood there in his whole glory, covered in black leather. His jacket opened to show a white shirt with a small stain of blood close to the hem of his neck and his golden pendant hanging over his chest. His red eyes flickering with the light of the common corridor.

You started with your mouth open and let the expression set, seemingly pleased to have baffled you stupid as he often did. What is he doing at the door of your apartment? Your blood rushed again, this time with a more displeasing feeling.

You held the door tight, narrowing the gap that let him see into the apartment as much as you could without closing it right in front of his face.

“There are cameras everywhere in this building. I told you to stop doing this. What are you doing here?” You whispered between greeted teeth, a mix of anger and alarm.

He lowered himself to be eye to eye with you, placing a heavy hand against the door. Not yet pushing it open, but to at least make sure you couldn’t lock him out. He followed you lead by whispering his next words too.

“I missed you, that’s all.” His eyes flashed with amusement. Great, you gave him a great reaction –that sight of infatuation he liked to trigger on you– and now he was hooked and ready to play you around.

You swallow the come back lingering at the tip of your tongue. Don’t entertain him. You kept your expression neutral but firm when you said,

“Not today, Sylus.”

“What, are you tired? You can go ahead and sleep, I just want to sit with you for a little bit.” He moved closer until your noses almost touched. His whispers turn into soft spoken words. “Some pests have been running around causing trouble lately. They’re sneaky and give me a little bit of a headache. That’s why I haven't been able to come and see you lately. I still need to go back to work, so it will only be for a moment. Is that alright?”

You didn’t answer, running possible excuses for him to leave as soon as possible. While he waited for your answer, something seemed to come to mind. He moved back a fraction and tilted his head to the side, curiosity in his gaze.

“You opened the door quite fast. You weren’t asleep yet?” Whatever look you gave him was enough for him to know the answer to that. He laughed quietly and straightened back up, “Are you misbehaving, kitten?”

Deciding the most efficient way to deal with Sylus was to tell him to get the hell out of there, you opened your mouth to tell him off. He would always listen to you if he saw true displeasure in your expression.

In that instant, a voice came from behind your back.

“Is everything alright?” Zayne’s tone was calm, but also somehow worried and vigilant to your ears.

At the sound of the voice, Sylus’ smile dropped. Red lights swarmed in his pupils, turning to the deepest crimson, as black as blood when you gash out an important artery.

“Who is that?” His tone was sharp as knives. Games aside, he didn’t care about keeping his words a whisper anymore.

“I…”

“Are you asking about me?” Zayne’s calm tone turned into stone.

Sylus’ gaze twitched when he heard it again. His eyes clocked on you, almost threatening. He studied you, running his eyes over you from the tip of your toes to your face, looking for something. You tensed under his scrutiny, wondering why it made you feel so vulnerable. This was the hard gaze Sylus would use with the people he considered rats tampering with his trash and ruining his sidewalk. You weren’t used to those eyes looking down on you.

“Did I interrupt something?”

“If it was the noise that bothered you, we apologize for the inconvenience. We will stay quiet from now on, we were setting on to sleep.” Sylus’ attention moved over your head as if trying to see through the door to the person on the other side. “We can talk about this more in the morning if you’d like.” When Zayne finished his statement, Sylus’ slowly moved back to look you in the eyes. There was a lingering note of danger when he repeated Zayne’s words to you.

“...The noise?”

It was as if the cat had eaten your tongue. Sylus didn’t look alright. The sight of it made your brain immediately try to recall the spare gun hiding in a drawer in the kitchen.

A hand wrapped around your arm and pushed you away from the door.

—

Zayne brushed his teeth with his eyes passively staring at his reflection on the mirror over the sink. Your voice came loud from the end of the hall through the opened bathroom door. His expression remained stoic while listening to you talk some nonsense about waiting to share the bed with him from the living room. He deemed for every word of yours to get in one ear and out the next.

Rather than pay attention to your rumbling, he moved his gaze around over your creams and trinkles next to the tap and over the shelves on the side. Your towels hung on the walls, and the tiles on the floor showed small details coloured in gold.

Your soap scented the room, the air clean, light and sweet.

His eyes returned to his double in the mirror. The hoodie you handed him had gone from black to gray from washing, and the sweat pants had a hole on one side over one of the seams. He felt the softness of the worn down fabric and the scent of the softener in your clothes.

“I don’t know why this is such a big deal for y—”

The doorbell rang. His body flinched, his shoulders jumped sending his hand a little too far into his mouth, almost stabbing his throat with the toothbrush. You cursed between your teeth, the sound softened by the distance.

He frowned. He turned his head around, over the pile of neatly folded clothes lay his watch. He reached for it with his fingers and shifted it his way to look at the dial. Two past seven in the morning. Who in their right mind rings into someone’s house at this hour in the middle of the night?

“Who rings someone’s doorbell at two in the morning?” You asked from the living room.

Zayne put down the brush and held a hand to his neck, coughing lightly to get rid of the sting of pain at the back of his throat. He ran his fingers through his hair, regained some composure and washed the frown from his face.

He went on to turn on the tap as he answered,

“Probably some kids playing around.”

He let the water run to wash as best as he could at the lack of a shower. He blindly reached his hand for a towel and got the water away from his eyes. There was still a lingering line of annoyance at whoever had almost made him choke.

The smell of you on the towel took over his system again and his mind railed back to the thoughts he had been fighting and the alarming sensation of a fluttery feeling over his heart. The echo of your words from earlier and the feeling of your body pressing against his arm flooded him again.

He pressed his heart over the fluff of the towel and closed his eyes.

The sensation of heart palpitations might just be early signs of arrhythmia.

He uncovered his face and sighed. Putting the towel away, he moved his pile of clothes over the lid of the laundry basket and walked towards the hall and into the kitchen

“Seriously, that’s just annoying. I don’t see how this would be entertaining for anyone.” You said while leaning forward with your fits on your waist and annoyance clear in your tone. He could imagine your face scrunched up and the pout in your lips and he couldn’t help the smile that escaped him.

“You can’t take a joke?” He said, stepping into the kitchen door.

“Oh, shut up.” You snapped back and his smile grew wider. He moved to look through the cabinets over the counter. The uneven sets of plates and glasses spoke of your habit of hoarding all types of stuff that called your attention for either being ‘cute’ or colorful. He was looking for a pair of glasses that wouldn’t be embarrassing to drink from while you mumbled under your breath to the camera next to the front door.

You were still so vivid at this hour of the night, singing and dancing and cursing so freely. It made him wonder about your sleep schedule and if you were lying during your check ups about getting proper rest. He was about to make a comment about it when the sound of knocking on the door startled him again.

His hands freezed over one of the glasses, almost making it fall out of the cabinet and into the floor. He heard you hold back a scream and his body tensed.

“What was that?” He asked.

“I– A neighbor?” Your voice sounded as if you were trying to reassure yourself. However the idea made sense. Your vividness had come back to bite you. The scandal had been quite a deal. Maybe it would teach you about not having to stay so late at night in the future.

“I told you they would complain.”

You bikered with him and he enjoyed it. He was usually so inclined to mind his own business and stay quiet since he never had the patience for conflict, but since you two came back to be together he had discovered how entertaining it was to tease you.

He heard the door being unlocked and seconds later yet another scream, “Sylus?!”

Zayne turned to look over his shoulder, listening attentively. The name didn’t sound familiar to him, but your tone let clear you knew who they were. A man’s voice answered, dulled by the distance, but he sounded calm.

After your initial reaction the conversation turned quiet. Since you seemed to know him and there was no other striking reaction after your initial surprise, he felt he should be inclined to think that everything was fine. However, he couldn’t shake the wary feeling on his chest.

He put two glasses over the counter and filled them with water. Your conversation was a steady murmur he couldn’t properly pull apart. And when the buzzing of the refrigerator engine rose, he felt the urge to get closer to the kitchen door to try to catch on any word he could.

You were hunching forward with your head picking out the hall through a small opening in between the door and its frame. You held into the doorknob with white knuckles and your shoulders were tense like wire.

The light sense of instinctive wariness turned into something sharper. Then, he heard a chuckle.

A male’s voice, husky and oddly cheery, came from the other side, making the hair at the end of his neck stand on end and his gut kicked with a warning.

He walked slowly from behind you. All he could hear were the desperation in your whispers talking to the person behind the door.

“Is everything all right?”

There was a beat of silence, and all the cheerfulness had been washed away from the voice when the man. The voice was stone cold when he lashed his next question at you,

“Who is that?”

What kind of questions was that?

“Are you asking about me?” He intervened before you could give this man any type of answer.

Another beat of silence, and there was a layer of threat in the man’s voice when he said his next line.

“Did I interrupt something?”

“If it was the noise that bothered you, we apologize for the inconvenience. We will stay quiet from now on, we were setting on to sleep. We can talk about this more in the morning if you’d like.” This wasn’t a situation he wanted to muse over. You had gone completely still at the door. Zayne couldn’t figure out what kind of person this would be for you to not lash out at them by the tone he was using. He walked in strides towards the door, and he had extended his arm to pull you away by the time he heard the next question.

—

“...The noise?”

Sylus saw you disappear inside the apartment and a second later a tall figure positioned itself in front of him at the door.

He licked the sharp edge of his teeth, taking one deep breath to clear the rampage that had been set on his mind. He wanted to keep steady and not act in a rush. Who would have thought that you were actually out there being naughty while he was retained by the lame games of a sneaky dirty gang.

Sylus’ eyes were set on the man’s chest at the door since he was way taller than you. And when he felt like he had a hold of his temper again, he slowly slid them up to see the man’s face. What he found there made the last of his temper untwine and his posture relaxed. He couldn’t help but arch one of his brows with curiosity.

The doctor.

Sharp jaw, black hair, green eyes, constipated expression. It was a face he could recognize easily since he had got to see it too often in pictures and files Luke and Kieran collected for him. Someone many would call a prodigy. A cardiac surgeon at Akso Hospital, well known and respected by both his teachers and pairs. Level-headed, serious, pragmatic.

And a wimp.

Sylus’ irritability washed away from his eyes and his gaze recovered the glint of amusement.

Granted, this was the first time he met the Doctor in person, but he had seen enough of him to feel like they were old acquaintances. To Sylus’ eyes the cold expressions were nothing but a façade. It might be something that spooked others away from looking for too long in his direction, but to someone like him that wasn’t a barrier of any type. The man was actually a lot more transparent than one might feel.

Kieran had quite the hand for photography, and enjoyed capturing good images with feeling. Sylus had seen a significant amount of pictures of the shy side glance looks the Doctor sent your way when you weren’t looking. His feelings for you were clear as day, and by the light in his eyes, Sylus could tell it was an old type of love.

When he learned you and the Doctor had met when you were children the look made even more sense. It also gave Sylus some reassurance. To him it was obvious: Doctor here had a childhood crush that had rutted too deep into his heart, and after holding it in for so many years, and giving his shy personality, he was probably never going to confess in his lifetime out of the possibility of you saying no.

“We were too enthusiastic about our movie night earlier. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I presume we all have work tomorrow. It would be better to discuss this at some other time.”

With context about who your visitor was, it was clear to him that he had nothing to worry about.

The Doctor’s eyes set on Sylus and discreetly looked him up and down. Should he have known he would come to meet your childhood friend he would have chosen some better clothes. He moved his hand to cover a strain in his shirt from the altercation from earlier with his jacket. A virtuous fellow like him would certainly disapprove of his attitude, and Sylus had always considered first impressions to be very important.

The contempt in the Doctor's eyes didn’t stroke him as a surprise. What a shame, Sylus sighed. He always thought that if he played his cards well he and the Doctor could strike up a good friendship since they were both smart men and shared very similar… taste.

Sylus took a second to assess the situation. From behind the Doctor’s back, you slide him a warning glance. The poison in your eyes made his heart flutter like a teen with his first crush. Biting back a smile, he decided to show some mercy just this one time. The Doctor was not wrong, it was pretty late at night and you should take some rest now.

Leaving your eyes he moved to look straight at the doctor’. With a motion he knew his type would dislike, he lifted up his chin and looked at him from above.

“Well, I’m glad you are aware of your mistake.” His eyes deflected to you so the Doctor would catch it. “My neighbor here was too stubborn to admit it.” The Doctor’ nails pressed against the wood of the frame.

Upon closer inspection, Sylus noticed the virtuous doctor’s clothes and the way his pants barely covered his shin. Well, he had never been offered clean clothes when he stayed at your house. Favoritism games were not fun, dear.

By his expression, Syrus feared the good doctor might decide to start throwing punches. As fun as it could be to help him start a criminal record of his own, he was sure you would scold him for it. So he decided to cut the conversation short.

“Fine. I am tired myself.” He turned on his heels and looked over his shoulder to throw you a wink. “I will discuss this with my neighbor some other day, when we have both cooled down.”

If the man had a reaction, Sylus decided to miss it. The only thing that got to his ear was a muffled sound and your voice whispering the Doctor’s name.

The apartment door closed behind him with a click. He could only imagine the Doctor’s questions for you if he even dared to pronounce them.

His phone ding with an incoming message and he pulled it out of his pocket. Kieran had updates on the gangster’s location and urged him to go back to work. With a heavy sight he stepped down the hall into the elevator. The night hadn’t gone as he had planned it too, but he got to see you at the very least.

He still wasn’t worried about the doctor’s slender, well taken care of fingers and where they might try to stick to, but just in case, because he was a cautious man, he pondered if he should send Mephisto to make sure you didn’t get yourself into any trouble.

[shotofstress]

Coming back after being almost a week without electricity, phone, and internet connection. Huge storms with lightning and rain, and winds. We have never have winds like that here and the roof of so many houses were ripped off, stuff flying, etc. All this bc global warming, and the deforestation and mining in our lands. At this rate, in 5 years we will have tornadoes, a thing we have never ever have here. Nor our lands, infrastructures, states, and culture are prepared for this. Areas of the country are devastated, ppl have died, many are without electricity nor Internet connection so they are isolated. The houses are flooding with water, and the ones that not, are leaking from the ceiling. Too many neighbours and compatriots don't have roofs and the streets are full of fallen trees and pieces of roof material, no electricity, no signal, food rotting, but suffering at the same time for the cold of this terrible winter, and trying to do something, patching even when its gonna go to hell when the storm comes again this next days. More than 33,200 people affected and 41,500 isolated due to 5 days of rain and windstorms. In just a couple of days there were 170,000 homes left without power due to wind and rainstorms and even more as time went by.

If u want to help me to fix the roof, walls, to buy food and being warm this winter please check my PayPal. If u can't donate, please reblog bc thats the only way to make this being seen by ppl thus receiving help. I'm really not being able to keep living like this, i can no longer cope, so please share.

Here are in my PayPal or MACH . I took the kofi link bc they were charging me a fee.

Please, educate about global warming and the effects on Global South, specially for working class, chronically ill, autistic, disable, and long covid survivor ppl like myself.

Edit: I added links and pics

Edit: the weather is better (is finally spring at this current date 24th nov), but I still need to fix were I live/sleep bc the walls are broken and one of the walls is not a wall, but like 1cm wide stuff and all was bad build so even the door is twisted and dont work correctly, there is black mold that i think is damaging my ears, the paint is falling, the lamp has fallen, everything is broken and ugly, etc. I still need to buy food, meds, and everything so please, please, share or donate if you could. I don't want to survive like this and here, no one mask even when they were the ones giving me covid and they have making me also catch flu the other day bc they cogh over everything and don't care if they kill me, they are abusive and really violent people and are working to put me and everyone in danger. I dont even want to be in my country bc we will have a dictatorship soon, but I have nowhere else to go nor money to migrate (i need like $10.537 dollars or € 9.760,95 euros to pay all the documents, the bank money I have to show to prove I am a human being deserver of rights, the tickets, rent money and stuff to migrate).

I currently (date 14 Jan 2025) have $100 dollars donated (coz i spent 40 in food and meds this past month)

I know i will die here, but at least help me to survive in a less dehumanising way.

Edit: tumblr has blocked me from recive or send messages from the chat and comment of posts, so if you are trying to reach throughout there I can't see it, sorry, I'm cut from any communication (cant even see past messages from chat or asks), except send asks. I'm waiting that tumblr do something, but still hasn't even answered the help file I sent to them.

[comicaurora]

I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that

Always.

I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.

Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.

The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."

The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.

I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.

Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.

[littleseasiren]

Hypothetically speaking

Summary: Hypothetically speaking, Bucky Barnes is the perfect man. You have a list that proves it. What happens when someone overhears you telling Natasha about it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff

Words: A drabble at 800 words

"All I'm saying is, hypothetically, Bucky is the perfect boyfriend," you whisper to Natasha over the kitchen table. 

"And why do you think that?"  Her green eyes stare past you, making you nervous for a second before her gaze meets yours. "Hypothetically speaking, of course." Natasha knew how you felt about Bucky but humoured you nonetheless.

You don't hear anything so you continue, "Well, I mean, he's the full package. Just look at what he's like," you chuckle. You lift your thumb as you start counting the points. "He's handsome with his dark hair and his eyes to die for." Your index finger goes up, "He's quiet but authoritative, like the time he saw a guy bothering me at the bar. He didn't hesitate before threatening him with bodily harm if he didn't stop bothering not just me - but all the ladies in the bar." Your middle finger rises, "He's got muscles galore like we've seen when he and Steve burn off extra energy in the gym and take their shirts off." Your ring finger raises, "And he's kind - too kind sometimes. Remember I told you about that time we were stuck in the rain in the middle of nowhere on a mission? He gave me his jacket and stood freezing in the pouring rain for more than an hour while we waited for our pickup." Finally, your pinkie raises, "Then there's the vibranium arm," you say as you drop your hand, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Natasha smirks at the look that crosses your face when you talk about Bucky's prosthetic arm. "What about his arm? Most people would think it's a bad thing."

"Huh, as if! If they think that, then they're stupid. His arm is amazing. The black and gold design makes him look like a masterpiece painting. If I were an artist, I could spend hours watching him, getting every shadow and groove perfectly immortalized on the canvas." You giggle softly before continuing, "He's super strong - even stronger than Steve is, with that arm. He has amazing coordination and precision, and the temperature difference between his human hand and his vibranium hand is awesome. On a hot day, you can hold his left hand without sweating like crazy, and on a cold day, his right hand will be nice and toasty. But the biggest thing?" You take a deep breath, "His arm is vibranium, so I'm 100% sure his arm won't fall asleep like a normal man's when spooning with him in bed. A woman can lie on that arm for hours - I'm sure Bucky won't move an inch. That's the type of man he is..." A dreamy look passes over your face as you imagine yourself in that situation.

A perfect eyebrow raises in question, "Honey, why don't you just tell him you like him?" 

"What? No, I don't! I was speaking hypothetically!" You aren't like Natasha, you can't just walk up to Bucky and confidently tell him you like him. Just thinking about it makes you anxious.

Natasha's smile is huge as a shadow hovers over you, making you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.

Please, please don't let someone be behind me.

"Hypothetically speaking," a deep, confident voice starts behind you, making you drop your head into your hands, "if I do my best to live up to your expectations, would you go out with me tonight?"

You slowly raise your head, seeing Natasha leave the kitchen quietly and Bucky take her spot opposite you.

Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?

You can't meet his eyes, your cheeks burning with humiliation as your eyes focus on your wiggling hands. "Uh, Bucky, how much did you hear?" 

This time, Bucky's voice is softer, unsure. "Pretty much everything. I know I shouldn't have listened; I couldn't help myself. Not when I heard your hypothetical. How about it, doll? Do you want to go out with me on a date?"

"Bucky, you don't have to do that just because I embarrassed myself. You don't want to go out with me."

You slowly meet his blue eyes, a smirk plastered on his handsome face. "Of course, I want to, doll. I honestly just never thought you would want to go out with me. You're so sweet and beautiful. I just never thought someone like you would be interested in me. Not with all my baggage." His gaze becomes nervous at your hesitation. "If you give me a chance, I promise I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

Can he be any sweeter? "You could never disappoint me, Bucky. You're amazing." 

His face lights up at your honest reply. "So, how about it, doll? Let me take you out on a date. If you play your cards right, I'll let you test your theory on my arm tonight. I promise I won't move an inch if I get to hold you all night long. I won't even cop a feel tonight; I'll be a perfect gentleman, I promise." 

You can't stop from giggling, feeling mischievous. You weren't making stupid promises like that, something he might figure out soon if all goes well. "It's a deal, Sarge," you reply as you grasp his hands, shivering from the hot and cold sensation. 

This is going to be fun. 

Tag List:

@cjand10

@buggy14

@crazyunsexycool

@tripleoyaa

@mandijo17

@fluffysucker

@moviegurl2002

@shelbygeek

[rainylana]

“Don’t cry.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.

requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??

Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?

One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.

But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.

You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.

Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.

“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”

“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”

“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.

The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.

“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”

He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.

“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”

You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.

“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”

You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”

He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.

“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”

“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”

You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”

He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.

“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.

“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”

You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”

“Yes, you do.”

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.

You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.

“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.

“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”

Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”

“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”

Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”

“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”

Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”

“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.

“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”

He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.

“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.

“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.

“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”

“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”

Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.

He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.

“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”

You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.

“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”

You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”

He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”

You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.

“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”

It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #5: CADMIUM COLORS

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Once again, welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, I wrote a whole diatribe about my OCs while talking about I Wish That I Could Fall, and today, we're eating paint! Cadmium Colors featuring Soneji of Project Mikan!

Consider this a content warning: this post will discuss the pandemic, struggles with mental health, and suicidal ideation/attempts. I'm hoping it'll ultimately be uplifting, but the discussions at hand are incredibly heavy, and it wouldn't do this song right to be vague. Please be warned.

---

Let's talk about COVID.

At the beginning of 2020, I was in the midst of a long-term break from making music. It wasn't completely cold turkey, and I might not have even called it a break if you'd asked me at the time, but things were dire. I was still dealing with the burnout I'd sustained from the making of Autumn Every Day; I'd had my ego bruised by a live performance at a house party that went so hilariously bad it'd hurt even the most stoic performers (imagine watching an entire packed room of people clear out in 5 minutes flat from the already hyper-exposed vantage point of being on stage in front of them and knowing you single-handedly caused that lol); I had just moved across the country, and was preoccupied with trying to make ends meet as a 22 year old dealing with pure adulthood for the first time.

I was working a shitty minimum wage job at a discount clothing store I will not be naming, slogging through late-night shifts that wouldn't get me home until 3 am some nights. I had friends and roommates, but they were all just as overworked and exhausted and dealing with their own shit as me. I was mentally ill and unmedicated. Suicidal ideation was rearing its ugly head at my lowest moments.

Then, as I turned 23, a global pandemic shut the world down, my grandpa died with me being unable to attend his funeral, and I had a catastrophic mental breakdown that suddenly turned the voices in my head into a deafening cacophony of self-inflicted malice.

In hindsight, I think being 23 kinda just does that to you

---

Fast forward to 2021. I was back at my retail job with the pandemic raging in full force, my sense of self was held together with duct tape, positive self-talk essentially didn't exist for me, and I was the loneliest and lowest I had ever been. I was working the fewest hours I could get away with, and still, almost all spare time I had was taken up either by work or by my recovery from it.

This was around the time I got an email from Crypton, of all places - the people that make Hatsune Miku, for anyone uninformed. They wanted a remix of the song Happy Synthesizer for a Digital Stars compilation. I could not for the life of me tell you how I lucked into this or why they reached out to me of all people, but they did, and I was deathly determined to prove myself worthy of it.

This was August of 2021. I was staring down the barrel, languishing in what felt like only half of a life, fantasizing about death and trying to twist my thoughts into something that could at least keep me blearily shuffling forward another couple days. It was untenable.

(I'd also recently been diagnosed with OSDD 1b - this is a whole can of worms I can't really open until we talk about Breeze Blows, but it's important to at least mention that coping with this was a significant part of this turnaround.)

It's melodramatic, but I had only two options - make things again, or die.

I finished that remix within 24 hours of getting the stems, and I will gladly toot my own horn about it - it's really fucking good, in my opinion. Bittersweet ended up coming together in a mad dash over the next couple months as well. I was making music again.

Even though I was exponentially busier, things paradoxically got easier. I made the creative process a priority in my life, and not only did it give me an outlet for everything that had otherwise been eating away at my soul, but it struck a chord with other people who had been struggling as well. Things just... started getting brighter.

So I kept making music and living and yadda yadda blah blah here I am. This is all a lot of words and very personal stories of mental health struggles to say this:

One: The line between being an artist and being one of countless people forced to work jobs that go nowhere, that put their life at risk, that force them to strip parts of themselves away - it is a faint and transparent line built on circumstances of class and privilege and luck. Making Art and being an Artist aren't magical elevated states of existence, but something anyone is capable of if given the space to nurture their creativity. I believe the world should be a place where any person can do this.

Two: It's easy to convince yourself that art is meaningless in the face of the world at large. And yes, revolutions aren't fought by poetry and paintings, and people aren't fed through songs. But art is a source and a medium for connection; Art is how we find beauty in a disorganized and entropic world; Art is what we come home to and what words we write and pictures we paint and songs we sing to remind us that people matter to us and love is real and life is worth fucking living. Maybe that's corny and stupid, but it's true.

Three: So help me God, I will never work retail again in my entire life.

---

This is another song that is heavily inspired by artists like Prefab Sprout, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, and other artists of that ilk - very 80s, very flowery and sentimental lyricism, focused on telling a story. I greatly admire songs that aren't afraid to paint otherwise banal or ordinary scenes in abstract reverence!! I wanted the verses to contrast heavily with each other in that way, with verse one's relentless poeticisms (prosaic practice of depravity) and idioms turned on their head (suspending innocents above their disbelief) against verse two's incredibly straightforward depiction of a factory worker's circumstances.

The flowery language might have worked against me somewhat, though! I've seen a lot of folks that thought the ending was darker or much more defeatist than I intended, and while some of that is just inevitable with a work of art, I want to be clear.

Translator's note: this means "don't kill yourself, you idiot"!!

As you may have picked up from the previous post in this series, this song does heavily feature a leitmotif or two predominantly performed under pudgy pretenses. I'm not going to go on that whole novella-length spiel again, but rest assured knowing that this song, too, is one that makes me think about my OCs. Since it's something many people missed, however, I will take a moment to point out that this song quotes none other than Autumn Every Day off of my album of the same name!

Painting and visual art have been something of a reoccurring obsession of mine in my own art. I grew up around visual artists, have always been friends with many visual artists, and generally have a really intense love of it as a medium and a mode of expression. However, there's also always been a sense of... well, I don't want to call it jealousy, but it's jealousy. I've tried many times to start making visual art of my own, and I have made some things, but it's been a struggle, and I worry sometimes that my eye has permanently outstripped my ability.

However, in my quest to toss out grand expectations and simply have fun making art, I did recently pick up a cheap little drawing tablet! I'm excited to be a beginner at something artistic again...

Finally, I want to thank a couple people: Soneji of Project Mikan for the gorgeous, soaring saxophone solo; friend_xp for the mindboggling MV editing; and especially my good friend Que for the GORGEOUS painterly art that goes along with this song! Que's style was just perfect for this, and really tied the whole thing together immaculately!! There's no joke or deeper lore or anything I just fucking love Que's art go follow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And with that, I think this post is complete!! If you have anything else you wanna know about, ask away in the replies! Tomorrow will be Breeze Blows with Marcy Nabors and Marlow Jacobs!!!

MAKE ART AND BE GAY

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Azerbajian GP Weekend Part 2

Masterlist

The engine hummed beneath me, a steady rhythm that barely masked the tension coiling in my chest. Halfway through the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, I was still holding P10. A solid position, but I couldn’t help the restless fire burning in my veins. The car felt good—responsive, nimble—but it wasn’t enough. Not for me. Not when I had to prove so much more than the others ever expected.

Santino’s words echoed in my mind like an unbearable buzz. I’d barely had a chance to catch my breath from the barrage of rumors swirling around me when his latest attempt to undermine me dropped like a bomb. Santino Ferrucci, a man who had never seen the value in anyone else unless it served him, was now playing his cards to feed the gossip machine. The same ex-teammate who’d made it clear from the moment I stepped into the F2 paddock that he wanted nothing to do with me. The same guy who didn’t even give me the chance to prove myself before deciding I was nothing more than a distraction. Now, somehow, he had the media eating out of his hand, painting me as some kind of problem child, someone who didn’t belong.

I gripped the steering wheel, teeth clenched, my eyes narrowing as I weaved through the unforgiving turns of the Baku City Circuit. The whispers—those rumors—were becoming louder and louder in the background of my mind. The media. The drivers. My ex-teammate. They all thought they could write my story for me, that they could decide my worth before I ever had a chance to prove myself.

But they were wrong.

I could feel the heat rising in me. The pressure to be perfect. To show them all that I was more than just a headline. That I was more than Santino’s petty attempts to tear me down. He didn’t know half of it. Didn’t understand how hard I’d worked, how much I’d sacrificed, or what I had to overcome just to be here. Every inch of my success had been earned, fought for—not given. And I wasn’t about to let a jealous ex-teammate or a handful of shallow opinions take that away from me.

As I entered the DRS zone, I could see the cars ahead of me, their tail lights glowing like targets. I knew I had to stay focused. Keep my head clear. If I was going to finish this race the way I wanted—no, the way I needed to—I couldn’t let their words break me.

With a snap of my fingers on the steering wheel, I activated the DRS. The rush of speed surged through me, and I pulled in on the cars ahead, inching closer to the top six. I didn’t have to look back to know that the battle for the points was heating up behind me, but I could feel the fire inside me intensifying with each lap, fueled by the hatred Santino had tried to spread.

They thought I’d fall. They thought the rumors would hold me back. They thought I couldn’t handle it.

But I was going to prove them wrong.

I floored the throttle, my mind locked in on the finish line. With every corner, every straight, I could feel the anger, the frustration, and the hunger building inside me. I wasn’t just racing against these drivers—I was racing against the world that had already counted me out. By the time I crossed the finish line, they wouldn’t just remember my name. They’d remember how hard I fought to earn my place.

P6.

It wasn’t just a position on the board. It was my victory. My revenge against the whispers, the lies, and the people who underestimated me.

And as the checkered flag waved in the distance, I knew one thing for sure: I would never, ever let anyone define me again.

The celebrations following the end of the race were a blur of cheers, high-fives, and the kind of joy that made all the hard work worth it. A smile finally returned to my face as it sunk in—I had done it. P6. I had crossed that finish line ahead of so many doubters, my heart racing with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph.

It felt surreal. After all the rumors, all the noise, all the moments of doubt—I had pushed through. And not only had I made it to the top ten, but I had also outperformed my own teammate, who had finished just behind me in P7. The pride I felt wasn’t just for the result, but for what it represented. I wasn’t just a placeholder. I wasn’t just surviving in this paddock. I was racing. I was competing. I was proving that I belonged here, every bit as much as anyone else.

Franco caught my eye across the paddock, grinning from ear to ear as he raised his fist in my direction. We’d both pushed so hard, and now, we had something to celebrate. It felt good to finally have something that belonged to me—something I had earned, without anyone’s help or approval.

I glanced over at the screen showing the final race standings, and there it was: P6. The numbers didn’t lie, and neither did my efforts. This race wasn’t just a win on the board—it was a win for everything I had fought against, everything I had pushed through. I had done more than prove myself to my team; I had proven something to myself. And that was worth celebrating.

Yet, when I finally reached the end of media pen, my smile quickly faded. I had barely stepped into the area when I saw who was waiting for me. Of course, it was him—the same interviewer who had tried to tear me down from the very beginning. The one who had asked all the probing, personal questions, pushing me to crack in front of the cameras. It wasn’t just that he had a way of twisting words; it was that he seemed to take pleasure in it.

I could see his smug expression as he adjusted his microphone, ready to ask the same pointed questions he always did. He had even been the one to interview my ex-teammate, Santino Ferrucci—the guy who had never once given me a chance to prove myself in F2, and whose lies about me had been used to fuel the worst rumors that followed me.

The thought of it was enough to make my blood simmer. I had worked my ass off to make it here, to get to this moment, and yet here I was again—staring down someone who was more interested in sensationalism than the hard work behind it all. It felt like a constant uphill battle, one I was tired of fighting, but I knew I couldn’t back down. Not now. Not when I had just shown the world what I was capable of.

I squared my shoulders, trying to push down the frustration rising in my chest. This wasn’t the time to show weakness, not with all that I had fought for hanging in the balance. 

I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure as the interviewer’s voice broke through the hum of the paddock.

“So, y/n,” he began, his tone already carrying the sharp edge I knew all too well, “there's still a lot of talk about your time away from racing. Many people are wondering why you left F2 so abruptly. Some say it was just a matter of timing, that you were simply ‘training’ for F1... but others think there’s more to the story.”

I could feel my jaw tighten as he carefully crafted his words. He wasn’t just asking for information—he was fishing, poking at a wound I wasn’t ready to reopen. I could hear the whispers in his voice, the way he implied I was hiding something.

I clenched my fists, but kept my face neutral. “I've already said this before,” I replied, my voice steady despite the rising anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I left to train. I needed to focus on becoming the best version of myself, and I made the choice to step away so I could be ready for the challenges ahead. And honestly, that’s all there is to it.”

His eyes narrowed, not buying it for a second. He pressed on, undeterred. “Right, right. But... you didn’t mention much about what happened during that time. Rumors have been circulating—specifically about your sudden departure and your reasons for being away. You see, many believe you had personal matters going on, things that weren’t exactly... racing-related. Some have even suggested your absence was tied to... other things.” He let the last part hang in the air like a threat.

I could feel the heat rising in my chest, my fists tightening into balls of anger. I could already tell where this was going, and I wasn’t going to let him drag it out. He wasn’t going to paint me as some secretive, unprofessional driver just because of his own assumptions and the garbage people like Santino had been spreading.

I stared him down, my voice cutting through the tense air. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my tone unwavering. “You can ask all the questions you want, but the truth is, you’re just speculating. And frankly, I’m tired of answering questions based on rumors. So if you’re looking for some juicy story about me, you’re not going to find it here. I’ve moved on, and so should you.”

The interviewer wasn’t backing down. He smirked, pushing further, almost daring me to break. “You know, some of these rumors have real consequences. People in the paddock have talked about you being too emotional, not cut out for this level of competition. And others... well, they wonder why you’ve clung so tightly to that turtle necklace. Surely that’s a little... odd, don’t you think?”

The words hit me like a slap in the face. He was baiting me, trying to get me to say something that would let him twist it into another story. But this time, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. The anger that had been simmering in my gut finally boiled over.

I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing as I locked onto his smug expression. “You want to know why I wear this necklace?” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “You want to know what it means?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “It’s because of my mother. She passed away while I was away. I had to leave everything behind because she was dying. And now she’s gone. So if you want to keep throwing insults and rumors at me, go ahead. But you don’t know what it’s like to lose someone like that. You don’t know what I went through.”

The words hung in the air like a punch to the gut. The interviewer fell silent, his expression faltering as my words sank in. The entire paddock seemed to freeze, the tension hanging thick. I didn’t care about the cameras, the microphones, or the rumors anymore. This was the truth. My truth.

I took a steadying breath, still seething with anger, and stood up. “And as for the turtles,” I continued, my voice still shaking with emotion, “they’re a reminder of her. Not because I think I’m slow, but because she loved them. Because they remind me of her strength. She was a fighter. And I’m going to keep fighting for her. So you can keep spinning your stories, but I’m done talking to you.”

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving the stunned silence in my wake. I could feel every pair of eyes on me, but I didn’t care. The interview had turned into something else entirely—a moment of truth I wasn’t about to take back.

I didn’t know if I had silenced the interviewer or just made everything worse, but I didn’t care. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had taken control. And if that meant walking away from this media circus, so be it. I had nothing to prove to them anymore.

I marched into my driver’s room, desperate for some space to breathe and escape from the chaos swirling around me. The weight of everything—rumors, lies, the pain of the day—settled deep in my chest, threatening to choke me. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not now. Not here.

I paced the room, my fists clenched, trying to keep the floodgates closed. But then, just a minute or two later, I heard a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat, and I forced myself to take a deep breath before walking over to answer it.

When I cracked the door open, I was met with the sight of Franco, flanked by Lewis and, for some reason, Charles. I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to deal with anyone right now.

Franco noticed my reluctance and offered me a softer, sad smile. It was enough to break through the anger clouding my mind.

“Please, Hermosa,” he said gently, his tone filled with concern. “Let us chat in private. Just a few minutes. Please.”

I glanced over at Lewis and Charles, who were standing behind Franco, their expressions unreadable but soft enough that I could tell they weren’t here to make things harder for me. With a sigh, I pushed the door open a little wider, stepping aside to let them in.

The moment they entered, the tension in the room seemed to lighten slightly, but it didn’t take away the knot that had formed in my stomach. I wanted nothing more than to curl up and be left alone, but I knew they were here to help—whether I liked it or not.

Charles’s voice cut through the silence in the room, surprising me. He wasn’t usually the first to speak up, but the sincerity in his words caught me off guard.

“First, I want to apologize,” he began, his expression softening. “For allowing myself to believe the rumors, even for a second. I should have known better, especially after all these years. And I’m sorry. I know I can’t fully understand what you’ve been going through, but I can relate to losing a parent before they truly got to see you succeed. It’s one of the worst feelings in the world. I may not know what it’s like to hide behind rumors to protect your pain, but I know the grief of losing someone close to you.”

His words hit harder than I expected, and I could feel the weight of his empathy in his tone. Charles smiled at me, a smile that held more vulnerability than I’d ever seen from him before.

“I want to offer you my help. I want to be someone you can turn to, someone who will listen without judgment,” he continued. “It’s definitely owed to you, after everything... after ignoring you just because of some baseless rumors.”

I didn’t know how to respond at first. My heart felt heavy with the realization that someone who had once been indifferent—if not cold—toward me, was now standing here, offering support when I needed it most. I blinked, trying to gather my thoughts before I spoke, but the sincerity of his apology left me momentarily speechless.

Franco stepped forward then, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Hermosa, you don't have to say anything right now. Just know that we're here for you, whenever you're ready."

For the first time in what felt like ages, I allowed myself to relax—if only for a moment. I was still angry. I was still hurt. But, perhaps, things were starting to change.

Lewis’s voice broke the moment of silence, his tone lighter than before. “You don’t have to worry about that interviewer anymore, by the way,” he said, his words catching me off guard.

I raised an eyebrow, confused. "What do you mean?"

Lewis smirked, leaning back slightly with a look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Well, as much as I would have loved to be the one to hand his ass back to him on a silver platter, Max beat me to it.” He chuckled, clearly amused by the turn of events. “At least we found something else to agree on.”

I couldn’t help but let out a small, surprised laugh at his casual tone. It was good to hear that Max had stood up for me again. Franco’s smile widened, clearly relieved by the lighter shift in the conversation. “Good. That man deserved it,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

I nodded slowly, taking in what they had said. Despite the chaos of the day, it was comforting to know that not everyone believed the rumors or enjoyed feeding into the drama. I appreciated their support, even if it was difficult for me to fully let go of the anger still simmering inside.

"Thanks, Lewis," I said, finally finding my voice again. Lewis shrugged nonchalantly, his grin still there. "We’ve all been there at some point. It’s about time some of the nonsense gets put to bed, don’t you think?"

I nodded, feeling a small weight lift from my chest. Suddenly, Franco let out a soft laugh and, without warning, shoved his phone into my hands. "You’ve got to see this," he said, his voice full of amusement.

I looked at him, confused for a moment, before I glanced down at the phone. Franco had already queued up a video, and my eyes went wide as I saw Max’s familiar figure step into the frame right after I had stormed off.

Max stood at the media pen, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed as he stared directly at the interviewer who had just tried to tear me down. His voice cut through the air, sharper than I had ever heard it.

“If you want to keep making up lies about someone who’s just here to race, you can keep doing that,” Max started, his tone filled with frustration. “But don’t you ever come at her like that again. It’s one thing to talk trash, but you’ve crossed a line.”

The interviewer shifted uncomfortably, but Max wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his voice growing louder with each word, making sure everyone in the vicinity could hear him.

“You’ve been digging so deep, trying to unearth some dirty little secret, but all you’ve managed to do is expose yourself for what you really are—a pathetic excuse for a journalist," Max continued, his eyes burning with anger. "You think you know the full story, but you don’t know anything about what’s going on behind the scenes. You want to judge her? Let’s talk about your pathetic need to pry into people’s lives for a cheap headline."

He paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment, giving the interviewer no room to respond.

"She's been protecting her family, dealing with a loss that most people would never understand. Her mother’s been gone for weeks now, and she’s been putting all of her energy into racing. All you’ve managed to do is twist that into something ugly. So next time you want to attack someone, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror and figure out who the real asshole is here.”

Max’s words hung in the air, silencing the crowd around him. The interviewer had no comeback, his face going pale. Max’s fierce defense had not only shut him down but had made it clear: he wasn’t going to let anyone continue to harass me without facing the consequences.

I stood there, a little in awe, feeling an unexpected warmth in my chest. Max had always been a competitor, but seeing him stand up for me like this... it was something else.

Franco let out a chuckle as I stared at the screen. "Max doesn't usually get involved in stuff like that, but... you’ve got to admit, it's nice to see him standing up for you."

I was almost speechless. Seeing Max, of all people, not just defend me but make such a statement to the media made me feel something I hadn’t expected—gratitude. I looked up at Franco, who was still grinning like a proud big brother.

“I... wow,” I muttered, still processing the video. “That’s... that’s really something.”

Franco smiled, his eyes softening as he watched me. “Told you. People are starting to see the truth.”

It was a small victory, but it felt like a step in the right direction. It was a reminder that, even in the midst of all the chaos, not everyone believed the rumors or was content to let them fly.

I exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the mix of emotions swirling inside me. "I guess maybe there's still hope for some of them, huh?"

"Absolutely," Franco said, his grin widening. "And you’ve got us. Always."

[themissinghand]

Hello beautiful I hope you’re doing well! If your requests for dr.stone are still on hold then please ignore this message!

if not then can I request the five wise commanders with a s/o who tries to impress them by learning the stuff they are interested in. (Examples can be like Ryusui’s s/o tried to learn about boats or Chrome’s s/o tries to learn about rocks and tells them the stuff they learned.) Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a good one!😁

Dr. Stone: Painting with Two Hands

Summary: In which the Five Wise Commanders get blown away by your knowledge in their passion. 

Or you want to show them that you are someone they can rely on too. 

Pairing: Five Wise Commanders (Senku, Chrome, Gen, Ryusui, and Ukyo)  x GN! Reader!

Note: Thanks for the request and your patience! This turned out super fluffy and I love it! Each scenario takes place in a different time/place. 

Warning: None. 

★・・・・・・★

The Art of Science

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“A lab coat.” Senku looked at you incredulously, with one brow raised and his other hand shaking a glass beaker. 

“Okay, how the heck did you even get that-“

“Yuzuriha.” Right. 

“And why are you wearing it exactly?”

“Because I look good in it and…” 

"I've been studying chemistry," You declared, revealing a notebook filled with meticulously recorded observations.

When you hand him the said notebook, you watch his skepticism turn into fascination.

“Kukuku, I’m impressed, it’s right. You wrote down the formulas for everything. Where and when did you get this?”

“See, I actually listened to all of your scientific rants. I thought they were interesting and super helpful, so I wanted to learn.”

Senku blinked, slightly surprised that you had put in the effort to take notes, listen and learn.

“I thought that we could experiment together."

For a moment, he was silent, but then his lips quirk up into a smirk, and he flicked your forehead.

“Alright, what are you waiting for? Come help me then. Show me what you learned.” 

“Wait.” Senku was twirled around and handed a lab coat too.

“I got one for you too.” Dumbfounded, Senku didn’t move until you sighed and helped him put it on. Before you went to fix his collar, he came to his senses.

“I can do it myself.” He quickly turned away from you and put it on properly.

"You look good short king."

You had a smug expression on your face.

"Shut up."

You swear he has a little tint of pink on his cheeks, but you decided to not mention it.

“Come on, we got a lot of work to do.” He extended a hand, and you accepted it as if it was the norm. 

“I know Einstein.” 

The Art of Exploration

“Chrome! Look at what I found!” 

“Be careful (Y/N)! Don’t fall down!” 

Chrome ran after you as you skipped ahead and jumped into a flowing river. 

“(Y/N)!” Chrome was always worried about your safety and well-being, despite the many times where you proved where you were just as strong as him. 

“Don’t worry Chrome, it’s not like it’s my first time out with you! Besides, look, I found this cool-looking thing in the water!” 

In your hands was an oddly shaped rock, and while the two of you inspected it, neither of you knew what it was. Until you cleaned it a bit more in the river. 

A golden exterior shone through its surface. 

Almost immediately, you screamed out in excitement. 

“Gold! It’s the thing that Senku was looking for right?” Even Chrome was shocked at your luck, before hugging you from behind.

Even though you both were slightly dirty from running away and exploring all day, neither of you minded.

“It’s gold! Amazing! How did you find that so easily?” Chrome was genuinely curious. After all, from his perspective, he simply saw you jump into a river, bend down, and pick up a random rock. 

“Um…it’s kind of embarrassing but…” Chrome cocked a head at your hesitation before you blurted out. 

“I’VE BEEN LEARNING ABOUT ROCKS!” It was so loud that the world shook around you both. 

"because...I want to go with you more when you explore..." Your voice became quieter and quieter, while you fidgetted with your hand.

Chrome watched your face lit up, before you quickly turn around and make a run for it. 

“Wait (Y/N)! That’s so cool! Come back!” 

Chrome chased you with a giant grin on his face.

He can’t wait to see what you learned, and how, when the two of you go back to his workshop. 

Chrome also can’t wait to brag to everyone (especially Senku) how great you are.

The Art of Communication

“Raise.”

“I’ll play with you Genie, call.” The click of chips being pushed to the center. Gen(ie) winked at you.

Genie was nickname for your little boyfriend, why? Well, man can read minds (probably).

The cards are slowly being flipped over as spectators make their own guesses.

“All-in!” Gen pushed up his sunglasses dramatically (as if he was in an anime) and smirked as he turned to you.

“Sorry dear (Y/N), this is my game.” 

You stayed silent for a moment, observing Gen from head to toe.

But Gen of course, remains calm, and confident in his hand.

“All-in.” 

Gen raises his sunglasses in slight surprise at your bet.

“Dear (Y/N), are you sure?” Gen was slightly worried, after all, you tend to be more on the conservative side when it comes to gambling. He slides his hand over to you, and you put yours on top of his. 

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” You returned his look with a forced smile. Gen whistled, surprised at your sudden bold action. 

“Okay, I’m going to flip the last card.” Kohaku flips and the room goes silent. 

Then he saw a smirk rose to your lips, and felt your hand intertwin with his. 

“You owe me babe.” You hold up his hand while his jaw dropped to the ground. 

This was the first you had ever won against him in gambling. 

“Finally someone gave Gen a taste of his own medicine.” Ukyo rolled his eyes before snickering. 

“Wha-how did you-” 

"I thought I'd learn from the best.” You winked and stole his sunglasses, making your beloved stutter even more. 

“After all, the mind is the most fascinating puzzle, and yours is the most intriguing of them all." You put on his sunglasses with a smug smirk.

“Damn, that was cringe.” Senku commented, which received a nudge from Yuzuriha. 

Gen eventually recovered and chuckled, bringing your hand to his lips. 

“Oh dear (Y/N), are you playing mind tricks with me now?” 

“Of course not dear~ I still have much to learn~” 

(Senku of course, fake gagged behind the scenes, but that never stopped you and Gen from doing anything, has it?)

The Art of Navigation

Under the starlit sky, both you and Ryusui stood on the deck of the Perseus, his eyes scanning the horizon. 

It was at times like these where your boyfriend was finally quiet, appreciating the tranquility, and the ambience as you two were on a date. Delicious food and wine made by Francois, while listening to the waves rock against the ship, and the laughter from others inside. 

Of course, Ryusui is the one to break that silence when he notices the seas changing. 

“My love, a storm is coming.” He suddenly stands up, “Francois, follow me after you clean up.” 

“Yes sir.” Francois, elegant and efficient as always, quickly retreated with the food. 

“Ay ay Captain.” Your little salute made his loosen up just a little, before he held your hand, and pulled you inside as if he was guiding you in a waltz.

Ambitious, confident, and charismatic, that was your love, Ryusui.

As expected, he took the helm immediately, and an excited grin rose to his face as he looked far into the distance with thunderous clouds. 

“Love, can you tell them all to get ready!? We need all hands on deck!” 

“On it captain!” 

With a laugh, you began warning everyone through the speakers, and chaos followed as everyone scrambled to get on desk.

Surprisingly, Ryusui watched you give commands almost effortlessly and matching his pace.

“Furl the sails!” 

“We’re going to change courses!” 

“Make sure to hold to the ship!” 

“Love, you’re perfect.” Ryusui thanks you while he spins the wheel.

“Drop the anchors!” 

Then you turn around and slide beside him. 

“Love, let me help you - it’s that way - where we have to go right?” 

“A little bit more to the left, but love, I see you’ve been learnING-” The ship’s center of gravity suddenly shifts, causing you to lean on Ryusui as you grab onto the wheel for your deer life. 

“I love it! The desire to learn is always so endearing!” 

“Oh stop it~ All I did was read some maps and books!” 

“Hey Captain! Can you stop flirting and steer the ship properly!?” The others yelled while panicking on deck, and with a laugh, both of you steered the ship to safety. 

"One more time?" He proposed, and you agreed, much to the displeasure of your crewmates.

The Art of Archery

Sometimes, the kids are loud. 

As such, Ukyo and his companion often found solace in the tranquility of the forest. Sometimes they would take long walks, talk about various topics they would not share in front of children, and enjoy the silence once in a while away from the chaos of someone known as Senku. 

But one day, you asked Ukyo to learn archery. 

Naturally, Ukyo was elated to teach you, after all, it was a way for you to protect yourself. 

It began with Ukyo making a bow for you, then arm guard, and even received gloves from Yuzuriha. He wanted to make sure you had the best of equipment he could get, and that you were safe at all times.

The first few training sessions began with Ukyo standing behind you, guiding you with a calm, mellow voice, and helping you with aim. 

But soon, you both practiced archery side by side, the twang of bowstrings harmonizing with the rustling leaves.

"Your aim is getting better," Ukyo praised, a smile gracing his lips as he applauded you. 

“Thanks, it all because of your help Ukyo.” You gave him a little hug which he returned. 

“I’m proud of you.” 

“Can I come and hunt with you now?” For a moment he hesitated, but after seeing your adorable puppy eyes, he caved in within a heartbeat. 

“Okay, but safety first ok?” 

“Mhmm. I know.” 

You gave him a peck on the cheek, before he returned one too. 

LIttle did you know, not only were your arrows hitting the bulls-eye, they went through Ukyo’s heart too.

[sturnioloshacker]

turning tables - a vinnie hacker short

a/n: requested by @tcvazq; lowercase intended

cw: swearing, jealous vinnie, vinnie being a dickhead, angry sex, unprotected sex, slight handjob, pussy eating, dirty talk, creampie, fluffy aftercare. this an nfsw short, everything written is fictional. interact or don’t, i’m not your mother

summary: trying to fuck the attitude out of an angry vinnie fails to work when he decides it’s better to fuck you dumb

“what the fuck was that guy’s problem?!”

“vin, it’s not that big of a deal! he was just being nice!”

“he was flirting with you! did you not see him staring at your lips? he wanted to kiss you!” 

“okay, now you’re being stupid. he was a nice boy who just wanted to chat.”

“god, you’re so fucking thick-headed!”

“excuse me? i’m thick-headed? okay, that’s fine.”

i storm off, unable to take any more of his attitude. i slam the door to our bedroom and into the bathroom, where i feel the tears spill from my eyes and down my cheeks. the house is silent, dead silent. like you could hear a pin drop it was that quiet. i break that silence by turning the tap on to wash my face. as i dry my face with a towel, i feel a pair of hands harshly grab my waistband of my shorts to rip them off. 

“vinnie what the fuck?! no! you don’t deserve this! if anything, i should fuck your nasty attitude out of you!”

“oh yeah? prove it then,” vinnie spat.

i push him out of the bathroom and shove him onto the bed with everything that i have. i spit on his cock and jerk him off super fast. hearing slight groans from his lips, i speed up my actions, my wrist feeling like it’s on fire from the rapid pace of me jerking him off. i feel my movements getting tired and sloppy, my wrist burning from trying to prove him that i can fuck his attitude out of him.

“give up princess?” he says, all cocky and confident in himself

“no. shut up.”

fucking dickhead. i straddle his waist and align myself over his cock. i sink down onto his cock, letting myself go all the way down until i reach the base as his tip hits my cervix. i moan at the way his cock stretches me out and the way it feels so deep and so full inside me. i start bouncing up and down really fast, trying to fuck the attitude of his him but once again, i’m met with light groans. twat. i’m growing tired of this, i give up.

“tired princess? you give up now?”

i shoot him the middle finger before i’m flipped over and thrown onto my back, legs spread and pussy out in the open air. 

“how about i fuck you dumb, maybe my attitude will go away.”

vinnie dips his head down and starts devouring me like an animal. licking, biting and sucking my clit and folds, the pleasure is too much. it feels so good, i hate it. but i love it too damn much. asshole. cute asshole. i hate him. oh fuck i love him, he’s unreal. i feel myself cumming all over his face, i wasn’t even ready to announce it yet! he wipes his mouth clean and begins jerking himself off. what a cocky bastard! he shoves his cock inside me, giving me no time to adjust as he pounds me into oblivion. 

i can’t help but moan, whine and cry out at the intense pleasure of it all. the way his cock glides through my wetness, the way his veins hit all the right spots and the way his tip hits my cervix, god it feels fucking amazing. i’m so close, i can feel my walls clench around vinnie’s cock, ready to explode all over him. 

“vinnie, i’m gonna cum, oh fuck right there don’t st- ah!”

i cum around vinnie’s cock, my juices coating him all the down to the base and down to his balls. Vinnie cums not long after, his warm load spurting inside me as it paints my walls white. he pulls out and helps me clean myself up. he sits me down on the toilet so i can do my business before helping me wash my hands, put my pyjamas on and tucking me into bed. he plays with my hair before we fall asleep in each other’s arms.

the next morning, i wake up, my head pounding and legs shaking. i think back to last night’s events and now i understand why. i go to get up out of bed but crawl back in because i can’t move. it hurts to walk. vinnie walks back in from the bathroom, smile on his face. 

“morning, princess. how’d you sleep?”

“fine. you hurt me.”

“what do you mean?”

“i can’t walk, idiot!”

“oh. sorry.”

“i guess i should apologise. i didn’t mean to make you angry. the poor guy wanted to talk.”

“no, i should apologise. i just got jealous seeing you talk to a guy that’s not me. sometimes i get scared that you’ll leave me for someone else.”

“vincent, no! i would never do that. don’t be silly! you’re mine and i’m yours.”

“good, cause now i want cuddles.”

“come here, you big goof!” i giggle, stretching my arms out for the boy in front of me.

we spend the rest of the morning cuddling, kissing and making up after last night. I think we both learnt our lessons. vinnie’s lesson being that he doesn���t have to be so jealous anymore as my eyes are on him and him only, and my lesson being don’t try and fuck the attitude out of my boyfriend as i’ll just get fucked dumb to the point where i can’t move a muscle downstairs. 

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

oh my god there are so many good choice on the touching prompt list for Ace!Tav and Astarion. But since it’s first numerically may I please request 3?

Summary: You finally arrive in Baldur's Gate and you can't sleep. Normally this would mean taking the nearest instrument and playing until your hands are raw. Luckily for your fingers, Astarion is there to listen.

Prompt: hiding face in neck

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

A/N: Hey! Sorry it took me so long to get to this. I swear to god I wrote like five different versions of this thing. Let's give it up for over writing! Enjoy.

Word Count: 1.8K

The night felt oddly still for Baldur’s Gate. You’d traveled so far, done and seen so much and you were finally here.  It should have brought you relief; instead, all you could think about was all you had left to do. There were still the tadpoles to deal with and devils and gods and frankly all the things you’d never given a second thought to the last time you stepped through the gates. Perhaps the city felt it as well, collectively holding its breath for whatever was coming next. 

You let out a deep sigh, staring up at the darkened ceiling. There would be no hope of sleep tonight. The best you could do was find a way to pass the hours without going mad.  

As carefully as you could, you slipped out of bed, mindful of Astarion resting soundly next to you. For all your troubles, they were nothing compared to the horrors coming for him.  You wouldn’t disturb his rare moment of peace for the world. 

In easy strides you grabbed your lute and made your way to the balcony where a comfortable enough chaise awaited you. 

No lamps were needed. Between the moon and the street lamps below, you could see well enough to play for an audience of one. 

You started with something easy, plucking out a handful of scales to warm up your hands. It didn’t take long after that for a melody to form, pushing your worries further and further away. Lyrics slipped their way past your lips in whispers and half remembered hums. You were here. Air moved in and out of your lungs. Your heart still beat. You had control over your body and the sounds pulled from the instrument in your hands. There was still time. The morning hadn’t found you yet.

Soft footsteps approached from behind you; the obvious padding of bare feet on wooden floor boards given just enough extra weight so as not to startle you.  Astarion could be very considerate at times. 

You paused your hands, turning to face him. 

“Sorry, was I playing too loud?” 

“Not at all,” he assured. “How else was I supposed to find you after waking to a cold, empty bed?”

You had to at least smile at his dramatics, which seemed to please him as he stepped further onto the balcony. 

The light of the moon gave his already pale skin and iridescent glow. His silver curls were just a little ruffled from their perfect coif as his eyes held you with a tired softness that made you ache. It was in moments like this you remembered why poetry existed; paints, canvas, marble, clay, they were too clumsy of tools to capture all of him.  

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, pulling you from your musings. 

“Just needed to clear my head,” you said. “Didn’t want to bother anyone with my plucking.”

“Perish the thought. I rather enjoy your plucking.” He nodded to the empty spot next to you. “May I?” 

You couldn’t think of a reason to argue, so you didn’t try. Astarion had proved himself one of the few people you could enjoy a peaceful silence with. So long as he didn’t expect you to entertain him, there was no harm done. 

You scooted over to allow him room. 

He took it, only to pull you against him, caging you between his legs. 

You gave a small yelp of surprise, only just managing to keep hold of your lute. “What are you doing?” 

“Making myself comfortable.” His hands found your waist, pulling you closer so your back rested against his chest while his chin made a home on your shoulder. “Go on dearest, start plucking.”

You snorted out a laugh. Gods above, he really was a cat sometimes. He didn’t ask for attention so much as demand it and in a way only the most heartless could be upset by. 

“It’s rather difficult for me to perform with my back to the audience,” you said as some attempt at protest. 

He gave a noncommittal hum. “I’m inclined to disagree. But if it does bother you, consider me a humble patron observing a rehearsal.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  

Settling back as best you could, you began again, humming a tune to yourself as you worked out the cords. 

A different kind of peace settled over you as he held you. You had come here to be alone, something you had gotten used to over the years. Astarion didn’t have to be here with you, but he was. He chose to sit here in the dark and listen as you played your troubles into the air. It was an alien comfort, one that still left you a little unsure, but it was a comfort nonetheless. 

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one before,” Astarion observed, gently breaking the silence. 

“I would think not, seeing how it’s only been in my head for the last few months,” you teased. 

He nodded as you felt him shift awkwardly beneath you. “Far be it for me to speak on your artistic vision, but is it meant to be so repetitive?”

You stopped your playing as a flush of warmth came to your cheeks. There was a reason why rehearsals were usually kept private. “Sorry, can’t seem to find the ending.”

“Might be easier if you wrote it down,” he suggested. 

“That would require me knowing how.” 

“You don’t know how to write music?” He sounded so genuinely surprised, you had to laugh. 

“Love, I don’t even know how to read it.”

“Really?” 

You shrugged. “Just not how I learned. They weren’t exactly letting riff raff like me into the conservatory.”

You could all but feel the furrow of his brow as his chin pressed against your shoulder. “So every song you’ve ever played, original or otherwise, you taught yourself, by ear, and stored away in that head of yours?”

“You make it sound more impressive than it actually is. Plenty of bards do the exact same thing,” you dismissed.  

He hummed in thought. “Perhaps. It does explain why so many of them don’t seem to have anything going on behind the eyes.”

“I’ll try not to be insulted.” 

“Present company excluded,” he amended, pressing a kiss to the back of your ear for good measure. “Why do you think I’m so impressed? Beauty, talent and brains are such a rare combination.” 

You gave a small huff, earning you another kiss on the temple.

“I’m sure we could find somebody in the city to teach you,” he offered. 

You shook your head. “Not interested. Besides, I’ve found it an effective filtration method. If I can’t remember the tune the next day, it probably wasn’t worth learning in the first place.” 

“Oh darling, who knew you could be so cruel to your fellow artists,” he said, full of approval. “But, what about when a song of yours is done? Surely then it would be worth preserving.” 

“If I’ve done my job well, then the memories of those who have heard it will be preservation enough,” you said. “It’s how all the best songs are passed on anyway. The specifics of who wrote it and when get lost, but the melody remains. It stays in the world because people want it to stay in the world. I think there’s a kind of poetry in that.” 

He let out a long exasperated sigh. “How nauseatingly romantic of you. One little problem though, people’s memories are shit. Give it a few centuries and it will barely resemble the original. At least if you write it down they can’t muck it up.”

“It’s obvious you haven’t met many musicians,” you said, dryly. “People are always going to have their own interpretations. Putting it down on paper doesn’t make it any less a memory. Personally, I’d rather keep it living in the mind than in a stagnant drawer somewhere.” 

“Or I can just make sure nothing happens to the original.” 

He tried to keep his voice light, but there was promise beneath that tingled at the back of your neck. His arms held you a little more tightly. His body tensed. It was as if he was trying to guard you from something, but who or what you could only guess at. 

“Astarion–”

“Don’t,” he said, sharply. “I know you want to say something comforting and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear you go on about memory or legacy or things to remember after you’re gone, because you’re not gone. You’re here. You’re here with me, and I don’t care who I have to kill or what bargains I need to make, but I’m not letting you go.”  

He turned his face into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse. To your surprise, no teeth accompanied the gesture. He just breathed, inhaling your scent deep into his lungs. His touch lingered on your skin as some of the tension left his body; the steady beating of your heart calming him. 

“I don’t want memories,” he whispered. “I just want you.”

Your lips parted to speak, but quickly closed. You knew there was a correct thing to say. Letting go was a part of life, whether you liked it or not. Sooner or later, everyone became a memory; but, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear and that wasn’t what you felt. 

The promise he made wasn’t some collection of meaningless words, but a desperate, blood soaked plea. For the first time in so long, you knew somebody would be upset if you died, not for the loss of income or poetry, but because you would be gone. 

You wanted to tell him you loved him. You wanted to tell him you didn’t just want memories either. You wanted to make the same promise and then hide away somewhere safe where the world wouldn’t dare touch either of you; but, you didn’t say that either. 

Instead you placed your hand over his, squeezing his fingers. 

“You have me,” you said, softly. “I’m right here.”

A shuddering breath left his body, as if all the emotion he had been containing was suddenly pushed from his lungs. His arms stayed around you, but his whole body relaxed as his head found a new place to live buried in your neck. 

“Keep playing, my heart,” he said. “Don’t stop.” 

How could anyone say no to such a request? 

Your hands found a melody, different from the one before; something complete and familiar. As soon as the song finished you transitioned to another and then another, never stopping until Astarion’s hold became slack and his breathing turned deep and steady, signaling his trace. Only then did you set down your lute and curled into his arms to finally sleep. 

You would finish your composition another night. The morning would find you, but you had time. Air moved in and out of your lungs. Your heart still beat. You were here and you were going to stay. 

[caitchercatlady]

The Promise of Forever

-2nd Year Version

Inspiration song: Thinking Out Loud-Ed Sheeran

Riddle Rosehearts

"(Y/N), these six months...nay, eight months I've been away from you have been utter torment. Yes, even with the "Adeuce vacation perks." Nevertheless, I've thought long about how and who I would spend the rest of my life. I thought I would have the scripted words for this night. The truth is...I lost them. Because those words I made were for myself and any person. You are not any person, (Y/N). You are the teapot to my mouse. You are the paint that makes the roses of this garden shine red as strawberry jam. Most importantly of all, you are my one and true Queen. There is no other individual in all of Twisted Wonderland whom I could ever fallen in love so hard. I will not waste another moment wondering. I must ask now. (Y/N), will you marry me?"

Ruggie Bucchi

"Look at this sunset. Isn't this view everything you always wanted? It took a little work, but we made it. (Snicker) Yes, we. No one person can make this happen by themselves. Hey, I"m still working on it. A dream business isn't built in a day...by oneself. Well, uh...I've been thinking...no, I've been wishing this for a long time. I made up my mind years ago. I'm sorry it took me so long. I wanted to make sure the ring was pefect. You deserve only the best and nothing less. Now, I don't knonw if I'm the best for everything, but I know this much: I love you, and you are my perfect half. Will you marry me, (Y/N)?"

Azul Ashengrotto

"(Chuckles) No, I didn't invite you here just to shower you with food and presents. I do that whenever you want. Yes, always. Well, about that...I've been drafting what may be the biggest of my life's work. (Y/N), you've played a bigger role in my life than anyone could ever imagine. For so long, I've hid behind strong gates, locked doors, and tall walls. You managed to break down every single one effortlessly, and much to my own surprise, I can't be mad about that. I've needed a wake-up call, and while it was hard to look at myself i the mirror, with you in it, it becomes easier everyday. You were the sun I've been striving to reach for all my life, (Y/N). Without you, my days will only become dark. My sunlight, my pearl, my angel fish. Will you take this ring and become my partner...forever and always?"

Jade Leech

"How could you not be more stunning than the moon? If I always tell you something, it means I mean it. And I will continue to remind you of it. For how long? As long as you'll have me. What do I mean with this ring? I was hoping you'd know. (Chuckles) I'm jesting, (Y/N). I've spent many moonlit nights, working for this day. From the moment I saw your peak wit, I knew there was only one individual in this world who would fit the missing puzzle spot. May I have your wit forever, (Y/N)? We can be married by tomorrow if you so wish."

Floyd Leech

"Found ya, Shrimpy! Do I need you for anything? Nah. But I want ya. (Laughter) You're so straight-to-the-obvious. Of course, we've been dating for three years. I don't forget things like that. I mean, I want you forever, silly. Prove it? Ok then. My ma said that you'll fall head over fins for this. Yeah, it's pretty, but not like you. I'll let ya wear it if you say, "Yes.""

Kalim al Asim

"You made it! All of this? It's for you! Yeah, it's also for me. It's for us to enjoy. What's the occasion? I love you. That's the occasion. Of course, I love you everyday, but this night is very special. (Laugh) I don't love you more tonight...What I meant is I already love you forever i teh biggest way possible. Tonight, I wanna prove I'll love you forever. How will I do that? With this! I picked it myself. My dad gave Mom a lot of rings to show how much he loves her. She let me look at her collection and pick a ring for you. I chose this one because it reminds me of hte day I fell in love with you. Ever since that day, my love for you hasn't changed, and it never will. Please, (Y/N), please, please, please marry me!"

Jamil Viper

"Good evening. The moon is quite bright, isn't it? It reminds me of your smile. Yes, there was a reason I wanted to see you here. I've been wondering how to begin. You have me at a loss for words during every important moment, and when I wonder why, I believe the answer is that you resemble the unexpected. I thought my life had been planned out for me since my birth, but you proved that I can choose where I go in my life. Tonight, I'm chooing my path again, and there is no question who I choose to walk it with. Will you join my life, (Y/N)? For how long? Forever, I wish. I wish it with all of my heart."

Silver

"Yes, graduation is upon me, and it has arrived too fast. It's not that I'm not ready. I've never been more ready to enter the world as a full mage. I'm just not ready to leave my life behind as I venture forward. I mean you. I know you're only a class year below mine, but I cannot wait a year to tell you how much I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Yes, I will ask you now while my chances are ripe. Please, will you be my partner forever? Will you marry me?"

[anemonelovesfiction]

I (Don’t) Hate You

Spider Socorro x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Eating out, Fingering, Penetration (P! In V!)

MDNI 🔞

Literally noticed the lack of Spider fics and decided to write one, it’s technically an “enemies” to lovers but I’m not sure exactly how that pans out

Not proofread I’m lazy… and once I finish writing I like to get this out to you guys as soon as possible.

Word Count: 5k

Max had asked me a question about potentially working with Spider for some kind of project that he and Norm had been wanting to test out, some kind of scientific hypothesis that if something then something- to be fair I wasn’t really the best at listening once someone was to mention Spider and I doing anything together. It wasn’t that I was willing- wait- it totally was. I just couldn’t see myself actually doing anything remotely scientific with him when all he cared about was chasing after the Sully children and pretending to be one of them, he didn’t think in a scientific way, meaning this project was dead from the beginning.

“Well, why not?” Max asks after I had told him no in a serious tone, having taken into account that he’d managed to drag Spider away from the Sully’s long enough to ask me this question, but I wasn’t really in the mood to have to explain everything to him, scoffing at his question before answering.

“Because I don’t do well with idiots around the lab all day,” I had a lot more to say than just that, but felt it was better to keep my answer short and simple, I held my nose up high not really wanting to listen to any reasoning Max might have had to proving that this was worth trying, I was also mentally exhausted from the back-and-forth Spider and I usually did and it wasn’t beneficial to anyone involved.

“And I don’t do stuck-up bitches, yet here I am.” Spider speaks up for the first time since being here and I was genuinely shocked, my mouth hanging open at his comment, to be fair this was expected of him, he never took anything serious and it was starting to show, I’d never even hung out with him and I was being proven right, his smirk was starting to make an appearance on his face and his arms crossed against his chest.

“Spider,” Max started off, the tone in his voice indicating he had been warning him to knock it off, but I’d had enough.

“You’re such a dick, you know that?”

“Y/n!” Max yelled before I crossed my own arms.

“You think that just because you put on some body paint you’ll be able to be one of them? News flash, you aren’t, you never will be, just because everyone in here didn’t want us when we were born doesn’t mean someone out there will, think with your brain and stop wasting everyones time.” I rolled my eyes as I spoke my heart out, seeing a certain look of disappointment flash on his face before it was replaced with one of anger.

“The only one wasting anyones time here is you, you think you’re one of them? You aren’t, you’re the annoying reject they had to train, at least the natives care about me, nobody cares about you.” Spider was quick to retaliate and I could feel anger bubbling within my body as he spoke, ready to strike back with hurtful words of my own, without thinking about anything I’d been saying and spewing the hate right back to him.

“At least my parents-”

“Thats enough!”

I gasped in sharply as I felt my arm getting yanked, a big blue hand had wrapped itself around my bicep and began quickly walking toward the opposite direction, my legs having no choice but to follow blindly at whoever had just stopped our conversation, sentence dying on my tongue before I was shoved inside a room, falling onto my bottom, the big blue face I’d come to recognize as Norm in his avatar state was the last thing I saw before the door closed.

I only stood and walked back over to the door and attempted to punch my security code on it to get out, eyebrows furrowed in anger at having been tossed in here like I was a wild animal, but to my surprise the keypad blinked red three times, signifying that my code was not validated.

“What-“ I stated before typing my code in again and watching the light blink red once more.

“Norm!” I yelled through the room I’d been tossed in.

“We’re tired of hearing the two of you squabble at one another like its a fucking world war, we’re going to be leaving the lab for an hour so you can get everything out of your system, you guys have better made up by then.” He yells through the door before I can hear receding footsteps, it wasn’t until I turned around at his words that I realized Spider had also been in here.

Time had gone by slowly, I could have sworn I had been stuck in here for the allotted time Norm had stated, but luckily I had been wearing an old wristwatch that still worked, the time on it reading fifteen minutes past when we’d first been placed in here. I could only count the tiles in front of me so many times.

My eyes land on Spider as I see he’d backed up against a wall, hands crossed over his chest, a leg propped up against the wall, I wanted to yell at him but I didn’t have it in me to start another fight.

It wasn’t my intention to have gotten him angry, but the fact that we’d both been seething from what we had said earlier kept the both of us quiet, every time I glanced up at him I could feel a sharp heat slicing through my stomach as I thought up of a quick witted response to whatever it was he’d decided to say.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to say something worth of my time?” He asks without so much as a glance in my direction, I scoffed but turned my face away from his.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you kept your mouth shut.” I stated as my anger begins to simmer in my vessels, attempting to hold back more of the nasty words I had to say.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckles darkly as he turns to look at me, leaning against the wall with one foot up, arms crossed against his chest again.

“If you hadn’t called me an idiot I wouldn’t have had to call you a stuck-up bitch.”

“Are you really saying this is all my fault?” I ask as I start closing the distance between us, knowing better than to get close to him right now, but my anger was starting to rise to an all-time-high with him.

“If the fuckin’ shoe fits.”

“I can’t wait until we get out of here so I don’t have to see your stupid face.” I stated as I finally catch up to him, neck straining slightly at how tall he was, for being out with the natives he grew taller than any of us that stayed in here.

“My stupid face, what are you, three?” He asks as he looks down at me, smirk forming on his face, feeling helpless in this situation and wanting to throw a tantrum, but composing myself as much as I could.

“Wipe that stupid smirk off your stupid face.” Well, there goes my composure, straight out the metaphorical window, and I do admit my comebacks need some work, I did sound like a three year old.

“Or what?” He leans down with a scowl plastered on, his face centimeters away from mine, and I’d made the mistake of looking down at his lips, realizing how full they were, my own scowl dropping as I observed his lips, eyes meeting his and seeing he too had dropped his scowl.

I blinked before he’d closed the distance between us and his lips were on mine, I’d closed my eyes out of instinct, letting myself get lost in the kiss we’d shared, a lot of rage melting away as our lips moved against each other. His hands had been quick to be placed on my waist as he deepened the kiss, effortlessly pulling me closer toward his body, and the warmth radiating off of him had temporarily rid me of the goosebumps I’d gotten from being trapped inside this metal box.

He’s quick to switch our positions, my feet almost stumbling until the back of my waist was pushed against the wall he’d been leaning up against, he’d used his hands to guide themselves on my shirt, tugging on it from behind as I moved my hips out of the way for him to gain better access, accidentally grinding myself against his length.

He let out a hiss as he disconnected our lips, quickly redirecting his lips toward my jaw, inching toward my neck in a teasing manner as he untucked my shirt from the pants they’d been in. I raise my arms up almost instinctively and he begins bunching the shirt in his hands before lifting it off my body, he tosses the shirt back and places his hands on my breasts as he finds my pulse point and sucks.

“Spider~” I whine as his hand snakes underneath the bra I had been wearing and uses his thumbs to caress my nipples.

“I like you better when you have nothing else to say,” He mutters before reaching one hand around my back to unclasp my bra, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was quite a turn on to have witnessed him doing it one handed.

I’m quick to shrug the straps of my bra off and toss it toward one side, not giving him the satisfaction of having said anything else, my own hands reaching for his cheeks as I bring his mouth onto mine, feeling his tongue swipe against my bottom lip, I gasped and feel as he slides his tongue inside my mouth and finding mine before licking it.

“Mm,” I squeak out and feel his hands on my hips again, one hand snaking up to pinch my nipple, as the other caresses my hip lightly. His lips once again traveling off of my own and down toward my neck, skipping over the pulse point he’d suckled earlier and heading towards my collarbones.

I could anticipate his lips getting closer to my breasts and pushed my chest into his face, earning a chuckle from him as his other hand abandons my hip to pinch my other nipple, a low moan reverberating inside my throat.

“You like this, don’t you?” He asks rhetorically.

“Spider,” I whine as I crave his attention on my nipples once more, my face feeling flushed with his words, avoiding eye contact from him until one of his hands grasp my chin gently.

“Tell me what you want.” He mutters low enough for me to hear, but clear enough to have made it a demand, I could only whimper as I look into his eyes, already darkened with lust.

I whine again after a pause of silence, attempting to move my hips to grind against his, only to feel one of his hands coming down to press against my hip, making my ass touch the wall behind me.

“Don’t make me ask again.” He’s clear in his statement and I swallow another whimper, attempting to appear bold as I bite my lip with indecisiveness.

“I want you,” I admit, seeing a smile grace his features, I’ve just come to the realization that I’d enjoyed seeing his smile, his eyes bounce between mine before placing his hand on the babd of my pants, silently asking permission, my heart beats faster upon this action, nodding almost too quickly.

He grabs my pants full force and unbuttons them, pulling them down my legs and stopping once he reaches my knees, given they were khaki shorts I shimmied my legs, taking a step out of them, using my other leg to lick them off God know’s where.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” He responds and I can feel my lips curl into a smile, he gently places his hands on the waistband of my underwear, a look on his face telling me he’s silently asking for permission to pull them down, I could feel my face heating up at how much of a gentleman he was.

I give him a small nod before feeling him start to slide my underwear down with a sense of desperation, only managing to bring it down past my knee’s before he’s back up again, I take it as my cue to kick off my underwear the same way I’d done with my pants, not really caring where it had gone.

I feel him dip down slightly, face coming toward my chest as he places his hands behind my thighs, I immediately jump and feel his strong arms wrap themselves around my thighs, but he doesn’t stop lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist, but rather settling me up so high, my back is leaning against the wall and my legs were placed along his shoulders.

“Spider,” I stated uncertainly, the cool metal starting to cool me down and bring me back to my senses.

“It’s okay, I got you,” He gives my thigh a comforting squeeze.

“Aren’t I too heavy?” I asked as the uncertainty had started creeping through my mind.

He only keeps his eyes on me as his face comes close to my cunt, the heat that had started dwindling with the coolness of the metal on my back was starting to come back, and the moment his tongue comes out to lick a fat stripe against my pussy has me gasping lightly, immediately biting my lip in an attempt to control my hips from thrusting in his face.

The second lick he does has a moan tickling the back of your throat, his tongue flattening to cover more of the surface area, I was tempted to toss my head back, but the hold his dark chocolate eyes held on me kept me locked into place.

The third lick was starting to drive me wild as he finally delved his tongue in, tasting my juices and allowing the tip to flick against my clit, a moan I’d cut off had slipped out as I shifted my weight slightly, lifting my hips up a bit and watching his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“Spider,” I breathe out, unsure of what it was I was even asking for, until he finally dips his tongue back on me, honing in on my clit, circling his tongue around it.

I allowed myself to throw my head back, feeling as my hand lifts up and grabs a fistful of his dreadlocks.

“Oh fuck,” I whined, rolling my hips against his tongue as I closed my eyes, losing myself in the pleasure, the grip on my thighs getting stronger as he attempts to hold my hips still.

He doesn’t waste any time in moving his muscle faster, my hips fighting against his hands, a growl dripping from my lips as I squeeze my eyes tightly.

“I’m coming-“ I grasp his dreads tightly as I feel my walls closing over nothing as he continues to bring me pleasure by continuing to lick me, holding me steadily as he allows me to ride out my orgasm.

Once I’d felt like I had enough I loosened my hold on his hair and paw at his forehead to get him to stop, he brings his own face back and I felt spent, dropping my hips in a slumped position and noticing the shiny cum on Spiders mouth and chin.

Taking a second to catch my breath I continue staring between his eyes and shiny mouth, a smile forming on my own lips as a thought came to my head, It wasn’t my intention to piss him off but I could have a little fun teasing him.

“Enjoy your meal?” I stated and watch him smirk, affectively letting go of my thighs, I yelp and jump slightly at the feeling if my security being gone before he places his hands on my waist, carefully setting me down.

“Spider!” I angrily stated while playfully hitting his shoulder.

“I like it better when you’re moaning it out instead,” He corners me against the wall before planting a quick kiss on my lips, hands finding my waist, thumbs rubbing against my skin deliciously.

“Why don’t you,” I trailed my hand down his abs and place my finger on the band of his loincloth, watching as my eyes trailed down alongside my hand, linking my finger in it in and tugging at it slightly before my eyes meet his.

“Take this off,” I began as I use my other hand to repeat the action, now gently tugging on his loincloth, practically begging it to come off.

“So I can please you.” I ended my comment by taking both fingers out from the band, and using one hand to cup his hardened length, eyes coming up again to meet his, only to find him looking down at my hand, lips caught between his teeth.

“I have a better idea.” He mumbles as he settles his body to sit flush against mine, he didn’t seem too concerned with discarding his loincloth as he brings his lips on mine once more, igniting the fire in my core.

His hands aren’t gentlemanly as they roam around my body, greedily mapping out my body as his tongue dances with mine, his knee digs itself between my legs and I’m forced to spread myself just so he can fit in, not minding this situation one bit as one of his hands dive deeper.

He manages to slide his index finger between my slick folds, brushing up against the clit he’d abused earlier, a muffled moan coming from me while his lips were on mine, his hand working its way further down until he shoves his finger in without warning.

My gasp gives him a second to shove his tongue back down my throat, my legs spreading further to allow his hand enough space to work its magic, another muffled moan slipping past my lips.

“Spider~” I moaned again as I move my head toward the side with his kisses leading to my neck once more.

A second finger finds itself shoved inside my pussy and a long moan follows after, the way he’s allowing me to adjust to the sheer size of his fingers was more than generous, slowly inserting both fingers and feeling the delicious stretch filling my senses, his mouth connecting with my nipple had fueled the fire stirring in my belly.

“Spider please,” I whine as his fingers are moving terribly slow, I could take his fingers moving faster as I usually did this to myself, but having someone else do it felt so much better.

“Yeah, What do you want?” He asks as his fingers start going faster but even then it wasn’t enough, my knees still buckle under the pleasure and I was having a hard time concentrating on standing, but I was craving more.

“I want you to fuck me-“ I stated, feeling my face growing hotter at my own words, not caring at the moment as I knew what I wanted.

He doesn’t say anything but curls his fingers inside me, hitting a delicious spot that made me see stars, I could only throw my head back.

“Spider!” I moan again, letting a longer one roll out of my mouth as I desperately attempt to scratch the itch of my growing orgasm, my own hips snapping against his hand to meet his thrusts and feeling as though something was missing.

“I like when you say my name like that,” He speaks rather huskily, taking his fingers out of my cunt, bringing his fingers toward his mouth and letting a moan of his own sneak past him.

“You taste divine,” He mumbles as if he hadn’t just ate me out earlier.

“Please take this off,” I whine as my fingers sneak into the waistband of his loincloth, tugging rather harshly just to hear him chuckle at my desperation, I only found my eyes drifting up to meet his.

“Please,” I find myself begging silently, my voice barely above a whisper, seeing his eyes soften as he brings his hand toward my cheek.

“Lie down,” He seems to accept what I’d been wanting as his other hand reaches where his loincloth is tied, nodding at his command as I bring myself down to the cold floor, lying down and watching as he settles onto his knees on the floor, pulling on the string and watching as his loincloth finally slides off his body.

I watch as his cock springs up, slapping him in the belly, precome coating the tip and my breath being dragged out as I stared. The tip of his cock was rather big and he was thick all around, sure he wasn’t as big as my forearm, but staring at him made me question if it was going to fit.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily, his own hand coming down to squeeze his balls and the base of his cock all together.

I could feel the saliva coating my mouth as I desperately wanted to taste him, feeling myself gulp rather loudly before my eyes go up toward his again.

“Is it going to fit?” I asked with uncertainty, feeling my legs closing subconsciously, I watch as his eyes trail down toward my legs, then back up toward my eyes before he crawls up toward me, his body hovering over mine as he leans down to kiss my forehead gently.

“We can stop if you’d like,” He begins but I shake my head.

“N-no, I want to, I’m just nervous.” I was quick to answer, not wanting to ruin what we had going on at the moment, placing my hands on either of his cheeks and using my thumb to caress his face.

“I trust you,” I stated and feel him nod, his dreads forming themselves around his face so perfectly, I smiled while spreading my legs wider to fit him in.

“This might hurt at first,” He begins as he grasps his cock with one hand, placing it close to my cunt and pushing his cock between the lips of my slick, the head of him rubbing against my clit.

“That feels good,” I moan and feel him continue to stimulate my clit, my legs spreading wider, my eyes closing softly as I focus on the pleasure.

“You ready?” His husky voice breaks me out of my happy place but I nod.

He slides his cock down and I feel it catch as he slowly pushes the tip inside, the stretch feeling wider than that of his fingers, but the feeling was incredible.

“More-“ I shimmy my hips down closer, feeling more of his cock sliding in, the stretch starting to feel like a lot but my desperation to fill all of him was consuming me.

“This feels so good,” I hear him strain, his hands coming to grasp my hips rather harshly, he squeezes harsh too but refuses to move.

“Spider more,” I beg as I attempt to shimmy myself further but feel him holding me into place.

“I need a second,” He groans, my eyes open as I see him struggling to take a decent deep breath, his dreads threaten to tickle my nipples as his head is hanging low.

“Don’t hold back!” I whine as I attempt to move my hips for more stimulation and feeling frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

I can hear him growl as he slides himself the rest of the way in, the breath that had been in my lungs suddenly leaves as I feel his entire length inside me.

A low groan leaves his lips as he ruts ever so gently into me, his hands still holding into my hips harshly, his grunts coming out rhythmically before taking his entire length out and shoving it back inside.

I moan louder than I had in previous attempts as his entire cock stretches me out deliciously, a bit of pain bringing a stinging sensation, but it was all welcomed as he begins to set his own pace.

I find myself wrapping my legs around his waist, he suddenly picks up the pace, causing an obscene sound to come from my pussy, a warmth filling me up as he continues his thrusts.

“You feel so good, so tight, fuck!” He exclaims as he plants his knee’s down, hand trailing from from my thigh, down the swell of my ass and trailing past my leg, tugging at it to get me to unhook myself from him.

I take my legs off his lower back to appease him, but watch as he grabs my legs by my ankles, pushing them up toward my face and essentially folding me in half. The feeling of the tip of his cock kissing my cervix is the only feeling I could focus on.

He tightens his hands on my ankles and begins to drag himself out of me, and smirk as he slams himself back into me.

“Spider!” I whine as I feel him reaching my cervix, my special spot, and places I had no idea existed inside of me.

“You gonna stop being a brat to me from now on?” He asks me loud enough to bring my attention towards him, moaning out as he thrusts back into my half bent body, unable to think properly.

“Give me an answer, pretty girl,” His hips still and a rage settles inside me, his hands loosen around my ankles as he runs his hands down my calves, now placing his hold on the back of my thighs.

“N-no,” I mumble, seeing him smile, his grip on my thighs tighten and he starts thrusting into me almost primally, his growls being heard in my ears as his cock assaults my cervix, the feeling of it being hit continuously starting to draw my orgasm near.

“I’m close,” I squeezed my eyes tightly to focus on the pleasure, feeling as they roll back into my skull as I see starts forming in my vision.

“Thats it, baby, squeeze my cock dry.” His words drive me closer to the edge as I feel it begin to flutter around him, his thrusts never ceasing to bring me pleasure.

“I’m coming,” I cry out as he thrusts in one last time, feeling my walls contracting against his cock, stuck in a state of ecstasy, a high pitched whine leaving my lips as I’d came.

A sudden warmth entering my cunt as Spider empties his cock inside me, a drawn out moan escaping him as he attempts to thrust deeper into me.

It hadn’t taken long for us to untangle our limbs and put our clothes back on, but I did feel slightly dirty knowing there was no possible way for me to clean myself up, feeling as his cum slid out of my cunt and into my underwear, a lovely stain I’d have to deal with cleaning out later.

“How long do you think it’ll take for either one of them to come back?” I asked as I finally find the courage to look past my hands and up to him.

He only shrugs and it appears he’s been biting his lip, unsure of what to say or how else to keep the conversation going, but the quiet we’d marinated in had been welcoming, there was nothing awkward about it.

Just then my ears jerk slightly at the slightest sound of someones footsteps making its way in the lab room we’d been in.

“Wanna know how I know you learned your lesson?” Norms voice is heard from the other side of the door, a rhetorical question since he never expected the same answer to come out our mouths, so he answered his own question aloud.

“Because I don’t hear you yelling at each other,” He mutters and just then a beep is heard, the door opens up automatically to show us a human Norm standing on the other side.

“Can we go now?” Spider asks with an attitude lacing his tone, I nervously look over at him before my eyes shift to Norm exhaling loudly, had everything we’d done just been a one time thing?

“Promise not to put up a fight the next time we ask you a simple question?” Is his sassy reply and I felt my eyes rolling as I walk over toward the exit, arms crossed as soon as I stand close to Norm, seeing Max behind him.

“The next time you lock us in here without a toilet or running water I’ll make sure to castrate your Avatar.” I threatened before pushing past him and walking out.

I didn’t bother turning around to know that the footsteps behind me were Spiders.

“Hey, you okay?” Spider asks once we’re within an earshot from Max and Norm, I could feel him grasping my arm gently, and I turned my body to look at him, seeing genuine concern from his eyes.

“I’m fine,” I sigh out and feel him wrap his arms around me in a hug.

“I hate you,” I mumbled into the hug.

“I don’t hate you.” He replies and I smile.

__________

“So what do the results yielded from the study conclude for our hypothesis?” Max asks from behind Norm,who turns toward Max with a smile gracing his features.

“It would prove it correct,”Norm couldn’t fight the small laugh that had decided to come through his lips, his face slightly brightening as his cheeks reddened, the two of them now smiling.

“It smells like sex in there, do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face the whole time, I was literally dying!” Max mentions as he comes close to his colleague, hand coming up to clap his shoulder twice, the two of them turning around to document their findings, opening a folder on the tablet, the hypothesis in bold.

If two people who quarrel with one another over stupid things are trapped together in a room with no way to track time, then they are more than likely to sleep with one another in said room after realizing there is no way out.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Idia Shroud - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Idia: Look at all these dynamic brushstrokes that can only truly be appreciated because they're from a real painting… Fheehee! This is the real thrill of seeing one live!

Idia: ―Ah! Th-Th-Th-This is…! A PAINTING OF THE LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD ON HIS CHARIOT!!!

Idia: It hits so hard～ In order to rescue a captured comrade, the king himself rushes to the front lines… Oooowee～ Doesn't that just get your heart pumpin'?

???: Indeed… However, is it appropriate for a dutiful commander to leave his base and head to the front lines?

Idia: Eeek!!! Silver-shi!? D-Don't just cut in when I'm talking to myself like that. This is why I can't deal with extroverts…

Silver: My apologies for startling you. I found your comment to be interesting, so I could not help but chime in.

Idia: E-Even if you think it's interesting, don't you think your impression of him was pretty shallow just from this one anecdote...?

Silver: Meaning?

Idia: I-If he was just a minister or something, he coulda just split after setting up the strategy, leaving it to his subordinates to execute everything.

Idia: But he still went to such a dangerous place to stir up morale, because that mission would be the linchpin of the whole battle. So, basically…

Idia: That means his responsibility meter is through the roof!! Wheeew, he's a totally different breed than any naïve and useless politician who just hoists their title around.

Silver: So you're saying that he himself went out there because it was a crucial situation. I would say that he does have an overwhelming sense of responsibility, indeed.

Silver: Hearing your opinion on the matter has allowed me to delve deeper into understanding this painting and its story. You are quite wise.

Idia: S-Sure, yeah～! You should follow my example and study up on things a little better, Silver-shi!

Silver: I will do just that. …However, it feels as though what you said about how other leaders may act had some weight behind it.

Silver: I had heard that you took up the title of Housewarden after being recommended by the previous Housewarden...

Silver: Was that because you had had previous experience as a leader, and were thus therefore chosen for the position?

Idia: Huh!? N-No, nuh-uh, wut are you even talking about? No way, no way… 'Sides, I'm more of a solo player even in my online games, y'know?

Idia: I mean, sometimes I've taken the lead of a party when I absolutely had to for a raid, or something…

Silver: As I expected, you do have experience in leadership.

Idia: It's not that big a deal… I mean, I got a reliable battle buddy who tanks and usually takes the lead.

Idia: Generally, I go for healing or DPS roles. Or more like, I just stack as many buffs as I can to increase firepower.

Idia: But it's not like our schedules always line up, so whenever he's not around, I take the lead… Because I have to!

Idia: It's usually the high-level players with great skills that take on the leader role. And in that case, I've basically maxed out all my stats in every position, so…

Idia: And I can grasp what the scenarios call for, see? And I can also play the tank roles to take charge on the front lines, right???

Idia: "Thanks to you, I was able to clear this high-level quest! I'm so thankful to have joined this party!"

Idia: …THEY SAY, ELECTING ME MVP OVER AND OVER AGAIN!

Idia: And I was just taking on the leader role because I had to. I'm just way too good…

Silver: So, those who fought alongside you showered you with gratitude. That just proves even further your leadership capabilities.

Idia: I-I wouldn't go that far― …Or maybe, just a little bit further? H-Hee Fheeheeheehee!

Idia: But also, I don't want to deal with failing a quest because some loser was placed in charge, so.

Idia: So I guess next time I have to put together a party, if my friend isn't available, I'll just have to lead them all again!

Idia: Wheeew, it's hard being so awesome～!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Silver: This is a painting of a lion, warthog, and a meerkat, I see. The three of them are singing a song and seem to get along well.

Idia: Ain't they waaay too upbeat, to be able to sing while walking like that? Like, this painting shows the lion crown prince that was forced to leave his own country…

Idia: It's showing him singing along with some friends he ended up making, while he tries to ignore that pain, right?

Idia: Lucky him, that they chose to glorify his hiatus from his royal duties like this. Tch!

Silver: I've heard that singing can raise one's spirits. Perhaps they all wanted to brighten their own moods.

Idia: Speaking of singing to take your mind off stuff, there was this one time when I was a kid when my little brother was too scared to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night…

Idia: So we would go there while singing the theme song of our favorite anime together.

Idia: Eh, anyway, whatever their reason for singing, having that moon in the background composition like that's super moving. Kinda like what you'd see in an MV.

Silver: Em-vee…?

Idia: Eh… Y-You don't know what a music video is? It's a video recording that goes along with music and lyrics…

Silver: Ah, so you call those MVs. I understand.

Idia: I-If you feel like checking out some MVs sometime, I'd recommend the idol group "Precipice Moirai."

Idia: Premo's MVs are so awesome that you could watch them 100 times and never tire of them…!

Silver: 100 times… That's quite a lot. Is that generally something you'd watch so often?

Idia: A true fan would absolutely! More like, it's way too insolent to think that you could truly appreciate their MV with only one watch!

Idia: The first watch is all about enjoying the song and video in its entirety. The next three times the focus is shifted to checking out each of the three members' dance moves and expressions one by one.

Idia: Next, there's the actual composition of the MV, and digging deep into the actual message of the video… At a minimum, it should be watched ten times.

Idia: On top of all that, Premo's super casual MVs can put even a film director to shame!

Idia: There's no way to fully comprehend their art with only a couple viewings. That's why it needs to be viewed hundreds of times.

Silver: I had no idea their work was that deep… It may prove useful in training me better in emotional expressions, and perhaps could even be incorporated into the academy's music courses.

Idia: N-No, I mean, you don't gotta go that far… But it's great that you know just how awesome they are.

Idia: Even between us Premo fans, there's always those who still don't understand their art at all…

Idia: Every time a new MV comes out, there's always people saying stuff like, "She got the most screen time," or "She's definitely the manager's favorite," and the like…

Idia: But does that have anything to do with the quality of their work? It doesn't, right? They don't care about understanding the heart or essence of the songs.

Silver: I see… I feel as though I have learned a lot from you, Idia-senpai.

Silver: When we return to campus, I will look into, hm… Premo? Yes, Premo's music videos.

Idia: Eh, no way!? S-S-Seriously!? They have all their latest MVs on their official Magicam account!

Idia: P-PLEASE WATCH THEM! YOU WON'T REGRET IT!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Idia: Ooh, here's the Sea Witch floating in the darkness… She's got a nice, bewitching smile going, too.

Silver: This is a painting depicting the scene of when the Sea Witch drew up a contract.

Silver: If I recall, it was said that the contract was so unbreakable that even a powerful spear couldn't rip through it.

Idia: I mean, you'd think that just having a contract that doesn't tear apart or bleed ink in water is strong enough...

Silver: Perhaps the contents of the contract was dire enough she did not wish it broken.

Idia: Who cares about the contents, the material of the contract is way more interesting. How high of a defense stat did it even have to not get ripped up by a spear?

Idia: But I totally get it, everyone wants to make invincible things every so often.

Silver: I cannot say I understand, but… What sort of thing would you make, Idia-senpai?

Idia: Like a "game console power cord that can never be taken away," or something like that… A-Actually, I tried to make something like that when I was a kid.

Idia: Whenever I'd play video games all day and into night, my mother would end up hiding all my cords.

Idia: If all she did was hide them, I could just make myself a new one, but she'd hide the cord materials as well. Totally overboard!

Idia: So I had a thought. I had to do something so she couldn't hide it!

Silver: I can only imagine your mother was concerned for your health… Did you never consider quitting your games?

Idia: Why would I? Ahh, but I really did burn the midnight oil like a little worker bee back then.

Idia: Like, I'd put a motion sensor on it, so that the cord could automatically run away from whoever was holding it...

Idia: Or I'd make the cord transparent so it couldn’t be found, or attach a homing function to it so it'd come back on its own…

Idia: And finally, after many failed attempts… I finally did it…!

Idia: I MADE A TRANSPARENT POWER CORD THAT ONLY RECOGNIZES THE AUTHORIZED USER!!

Silver: I do not really comprehend what that is, but… It is amazing that you invented something with your own two hands.

Idia: Nope, not at all.

Idia: My family also has a real stubborn genius, and every time I came up with some tech, it'd quickly get shot down by some kind of countermeasure...

Idia: And it took me a few months of that game of cat and mouse before I realized I should just convert my game console to wireless.

Idia: Hmph… But the peace and quiet that came from switching to wireless didn't last long at all...

Idia: Soon after, the Final Boss appeared: a device capable of disabling all wireless tech within a 10-meter radius!

Idia: Well, all the experience I got developing the motion sensing and automatic functions helped when I was putting Ortho together…

Idia: So I guess all that trial and error wasn't for nothing.

Silver: Even if you can picture your ideal outcome, it is rather difficult to actually put into action.

Silver: However, you have made real many of your thoughts. I can respect that.

Idia: Wai― What're you trying to say all a sudden? Getting complimented to my face randomly like that is a little scary… W-Wait, is this all a plot to beguile me!?

Silver: A plot? ...Hm, I see it has gotten late. I have kept you for some time. My apologies.

Silver: I am grateful to have heard such wonderful stories from you. Well then, I shall be on my way.

Idia: Whew… I'm exhausted having to actually talk to people for the first time in a while… Ah, this is…

Idia: It's the hero from that one myth. Look at his sparkling expression… He looks like he totally believes the future ahead of his is bright.

Idia: Life doesn't always go as swimmingly as you hope, though… Hope he doesn't get too excited that he gets carried away by the river of the underworld!

Requested by Anonymous.