#I'm also very tired of working on this and now that it is published I can work on other things

[astralhope]

This is a little project that I worked on in the last weeks, and I finally finished it.

The Japanese dub is my favorite, but the Italian one was the one that made me discover Zexal, and I used to watch the show in Italian until the third arc.

I watched the episodes from the first two arcs in this dub many times and I'm still very attached to most of the characters' Italian voices.

This dub is very dear and nostalgic to me, so I wanted to share some Astral's clips from it on my blog.

But I didn't want to put a bunch of Italian clips here without any kind of subtitles, so I decided to do the subtitles myself. But what should have been just a few clips became all Astral's scenes in the first two episodes, and it took me more time than I anticipated.

Just a few things before you watch the video:

- I tried to do this translation more literally possible (so I apologize if some lines sound weird), but with some phrases and expressions I had to translate them in a not literal way to keep their meaning.

- The edit of the video is a little rough because I favored the audio over the video and I tried not to cut the lines too much. And since I only used Astral's clips, some transactions between scenes are not very smooth, I apologize about that.

- I hope that the subtitles are easy to read, I never did something like this and I did my best to make them readable and not too fast.

- I rewatched it several times to check it, but it's very possible that there's still some errors or/and weird phrasing, so I apologize in advance for any errors.

After all those premises, here is the finished work:

Astral's clips from episodes 1 and 2 of Zexal in Italian dub (with English subs):

(I'm sorry for the bad quality, but not only the original videos were in a low quality, but I also had to lower it even more to upload it)

[hailsatanacab]

Chapter 15!! Chapter 15!! Chapter 15!!

[thebibliosphere]

I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?

I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.

I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.

We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.

If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.

Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.

They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.

And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.

The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.

So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.

That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.

Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.

They're not.

If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.

Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?

[cassandraclare]

*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.

First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.

TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.

I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.

I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)

I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.

I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.

I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.

(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)

[nana-b0b]

》🔞 These panels are censored, you can go to the last of the post to find out where to see them!

A little historical info to better understand:

���♡♡♡♡!!! I really feel happy and overcome with these panels, I was thinking a lot about how to make them since there were several obstacles: I had never drawn something NSFW before as it should be 😅 I never got that far so to speak, there was always a line that prevented me from taking that step, since it is not the same to draw some small scene where you only see something specific to a whole pose as such and all that implies. But after many ideas and turns I managed to take that step (maybe small for some but for me it was like reaching the moon 😂) and the most important and most feared was that the essence of the drawings and the style would be lost but I could keep it well and make it coexist ♡.

Note: as for the text accompanying the panels I want to say that it's not my best work as a narrator hahaha I don't write anything since I was about fifteen and it was my era of fanfics and stuff, so I feel its very basic and empty! 😅 ♥!

Now, let's talk a bit about the panels! Well, as we all knew this moment was coming, it was no surprise -3- Ryomen really had to be patient to get what he had been thinking for a while, but he didn't want it to be something random as it could be with any woman he wanted, he was really curious to see how Aurora could look like with the full appearance of a lady of the Heian era and when he saw her, he just couldn't resist. One thing will be clear: Aurora won't wear black teeth again, there will be no way to paint her teeth again without someone losing a limb. As for her eyebrows: she's really mad about that, but I'll let it go.

And to close this post I come with a novelty (I've been thinking about this for days) now we are going to be able to have these drawings completely uncensored on patreon.

I'm not going to lie, using more than two social networks for me is already a lot 😥 if it were up to me I would only post everything in one place but we know how the rules are and we have to respect them, if just by showing a nipple (which is a pixel 😂 ) they almost censored me on Instagram I knew this would be difficult and Tumblr is not lagging behind, while there are things that it lets pass there are others that it doesn't and it's not nice to have to make such complex drawings so that the AI doesn't detect them as 🔞 since there comes a certain point that you get tired too and it loses the grace.

My patreon will be the place for all my works 🔞 without any censorship already, you are going to be able to enjoy both public and private content depending on the type of work ♡. I think also for me it's an incentive to be able to start letting go more of my ideas and continue with everything I want to do :)

To say goodbye first I want to always thank you for all the support you give me and all your messages 🖤 and second to warn you that this CAP of Ren will be in patreon already published privately but all the other censored drawings are public for you to see and enjoy them as they should ⭐

Here are the publications that I censored and that you can now see, there are not many at the moment x'D

[python333]

HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3

stretched too thin — python333

— — — —

synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.

relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.

characters gaz.

word count 2.05k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!

You haven’t left your office in five hours. 

Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.

The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.

So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?

The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.

It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.

Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write. 

Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted. 

You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry… 

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more. 

Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!” 

Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish. 

The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz. 

“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?” 

“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.” 

Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”

“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.” 

“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.” 

“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.” 

“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?” 

“It does.” 

Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?” 

“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.” 

“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.

“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”

You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention. 

Fuck.

“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.

“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”

“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.” 

“What the fuck?” 

“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”

“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”

“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.” 

“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him. 

“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk. 

“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”

“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”

“I am.” 

You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.

On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep. 

After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.” 

Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor. 

You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him. 

He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.

Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.

You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you. 

You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look. 

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion. 

You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.

Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.

He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.

He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately. 

“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead. 

Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns. 

“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.” 

You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were. 

Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours. 

“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep. 

And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roommates (part 6)

A/n: ok here's a little warning. First from now on i'll take a bit longer to publish because ... work. It's also slightly shorter than usual

second i've realised that i had completely forgotten that Keller is the last name of the character Alex. So i do want to underline that it is not in fact alex Keller.

third, thank you so much for the love you have given to this story, it warms my heart. I hadn't written in a long time and i was afraid to post anything. I'm really happy that you guys like it.

Fourth, thank you so much for the little ideas you send me, they're very helpful. I apologise if I fon't translate the full idea into the story but i try to add any little thing you send my way.

fifth, you are entirely allowed to fucking hate me.

Warnings: as usual, cursing, violence, mentions of death.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"(Y/N)". 

You smirked.

"Yes?" You questioned, glancing back as you sat at the counter in the kitchen. 

"What time is it?" He asked from the couch. 

"It's 7pm" you answered. 

You smiled down at your computer. (Y/N). You had heard him say your name more than a couple dozen times today. Since you both told each other your real names, he had seemed to chant it non-stop. At any little question or situation. 

"Y/N." 

You rolled your eyes. 

"Yes Simon?" You chanted sweetly. 

A few seconds ticked before he answered. 

"I have to tell you something." He answered, tone serious. 

You paused your current activity to turn in your seat towards him. He was looking back at you. 

"I have a Mission scheduled." He warned. 

"Oh. Alright." You answered cautiously. 

"I won't be here for a while." He announced. 

"For… a while?" You frowned. "How long?" 

"Around 2 months." 

You swallowed, looking away. You didn't exactly know how to react. Obviously he had missions. You found yourself in a mix of sadness, worry and frustration. 

"Y/N." 

You looked up at him. By the look in his eyes, you felt like he was going to ask if you were ok. And you didn't want to answer that. 

"Why do you keep calling my name?" You asked. 

He remained silent. You stood up walking to the couch letting yourself fall next to him. He closed the file on his lap, red letters stamped on it. 

"Simon ?" You pushed. 

"I don't." He defended. 

"Simon." You scolded kindly. 

He groaned, looking away. 

"How will you know if I'm addressing myself to you?" He debated. 

"We literally are the only two people here." You chuckled. He ignored it. 

You sighed, shrugging. You turned to the TV letting yourself enjoy the time you could spend with him. The tv played with whatever show was on as you started to think about something to order for dinner, too tired to cook. 

"I like it." 

You blinked. 

"Hm?" You questioned, turning to him. 

He raised his hand, turning your head so you looked at the tv instead. 

"I said. I like your name." 

"Oh. Really? It's nothing extraordinary though." You said blushing a bit. 

"I was curious. After a few weeks. About your name." 

You tried turning your head to him but he repeated his move, groaning annoyingly.

"It's… delicate…" he praised. 

You felt your heart rate quicken. He.. liked your name. 

"So… you like how it sounds?" You asked. 

"Pretty much." He said matter of factly. 

"Alright." You nodded. 

"I like… that it's your name."

You turned your attention back to the TV, your mind unable to process anything after what he had just told you. 

"I.." you started after a long minute. 

"I like when you say it…" you said in a low voice. 

The rest of the evening was spent very calmly. As per contrast to the rest of the week. 

You sighed, grabbing your things to head out. Simon had been spending more and more time at the base. He had been preparing with the squad, preparing gear, tactics and training harder.

You could feel it. He had progressively grown colder. The ghost taking its rightful place, ready to hunt its target. You could feel him being careful around you, his mood had a drastic change and it seemed he tried to keep you away. 

You tried to give him the space he needed. But you grew more and more worried and sad as the days passed. 

You walked out of the door, walking down the apartment complex. 

You stopped and cursed as soon as you walked outside. 

"Hey Sparrow! Ready?" 

"Soap. What are you doing here?" You asked, obviously already aware of the answer. 

"Price asked me to come pick you up on the way to the base." The sergeant answered with a smile. 

You rolled your eyes. Walking to him he opened the passenger seat for you. You thanked him, sitting and buckling your seatbelt. You watched the man skip to his side and get in. As you started driving to the base you asked. 

"How is he this morning?" You asked. 

"Well. Murderous." He smirked. "He's been training with some recruits coming along on the mission this morning and I think he's making them regret ever enlisting." He laughed. 

You sighed. His mood had been becoming more and more sour. Not necessarily because he didn't want this mission, but mostly because he was entirely focusing on his target. The thought made a shiver down your spine. 

"I don't think I'll be of help this time." You said. 

Price had been asking you to come by the training sessions or after meetings to try and soothe his moods, but the closer the day of departure arrived the harder it became. 

"Ah, don't worry. We're used to it. He's not entirely bad. As soon as he'll be in the field, he'll be the LT we're used to." He said. "We, the squad. I don't think you've seen him like that. But not sure… he wants you to." He said with a smile your way. 

You bit your lip. Did you want to see him like that? A part of you did want. Another felt anxious at the thought. 

The rest of the ride was spent in small talk. The closer you got to the base the more you could feel your body fall into a stressful state. 

When soap parked in front of the training grounds, you walked out before entering the warehouse, the first thing you heard was the sound of people talking. The place had been rearranged as a training ground. Various dummies, people sparing at each other on mattresses. 

Soap dragged you towards the rest of the squad a bit further from the rest. 

"Here's our little bird." Price smiled. 

You sighed but threw him a weak smile. You turned your head to the closest training mat. A breath caught in your throat. He saw fighting. With a man that surprisingly was a bit taller than him, also wearing a mask, though much looser. You watched the punches and kicks being thrown. They weren't holding back. Suddenly Ghost body slammed his opponent to the ground, the sound echoing. You flinched. That must have hurt. 

"Don't worry, sparrow. They're used to it." Price tried to reassure you. 

"Sure… if you say so. He seems to be fully into it." You commented. 

"He is." 

"I don't understand captain. Soap said it's usual for him to behave like this before a mission. Why do you want me to show up everyday?" You asked, turning to him. 

He put a hand on your shoulder, walking you a few steps away from the rest of the squad. 

"This time is a bit different. He seems. Frustrated." 

"I don't think my presence helps." 

"It does a bit. Though I know it's getting harder for you to deal with his mood. Today especially. The departures date was moved. We leave in 48h." He said with a sorry look. 

You took a moment to process the information.

"It's not hard to deal with it. I'm just sensing it's being more and more useless. He's getting frustrated at me." You answered honestly. 

"I don't want you two to fight. You don't have to go see him." 

"I'll try. One last time." You replied with a soft smile. 

He nodded. You turned back to Ghost. The fight was over, his opponent walked away, slightly limping and rubbing the back of his neck. You walked towards him. 

"You ok?" You asked lowly. 

"Ah, ja, I'm ok!" He answered the taint of accent on his words. 

You smiled, continuing your path towards the man readjusting his gloves. 

"Hey." 

He stiffened, looking back at you. 

"Why are you here?" 

Ouch. You smirked at him. 

"Price asked me to come check something for your mission." You lied. 

He nodded. His chest heaved, his breath had quickened from the physical exercise though he didn't seem out of breath.

"Will you be home for dinner?" You asked. 

"I don't know." He answered in a cold tone. 

You could hear, Price started to walk up to you too very slowly. 

"I can keep a plate for you if-" 

"Sparrow. I'M BUSY." He barked, the sound echoing. A dreadful silence stood in the whole place. Everyone had stopped talking.

You flinched. Not enough for the others to see but he had noticed. The sound of small talk started again, probably under Price's glare.

"I'm sorry Ghost." You tried. Standing your ground hands behind your back. 

"Lieutenant." He corrected coldly. 

Price had finally reached the both of you. 

"Fine." You spat back, the staring match now showing off both of your frustrations. 

"Do you need anymore help captain?" You asked, not dropping your gaze from Ghost. 

"No sparrow. Thank you and I apologize for-" 

"It's fine. If lieutenant Riley wants to be a dickhead that's on him." You said, visibly angry and visibly taunting the man. 

You turned around walking to the rest of the squad. 

"You good?" Gaz asked.

"I'm perfect. I'll see you guys another time." You said with a smile towards them before exiting the perimeter. You took a deep breath outside. Fuck. What was wrong with him? The behavior had changed so drastically. A week ago, he was chanting your name in every sentence. Now he refused to even say it. He was cold. It was hard to hide the fact it was hurting. You were trying to see his point of view too, but you missed his old self. 

You closed your eyes for a second. You had work to get to. So you did. 

You had stalled. A lot. It was very late. You didn't need to be at the base. You could have spent the day working from home. Fuck you had finished all your work. Yet it was 9pm. And you were only turning the key in the lock to the apartment now. 

You didn't want to fight again. You didn't want to fight before he left. You dropped your things on the ground and fell face first on the couch. The house was silent. Dark. It felt odd. You turned, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. You closed your eyes. Several minutes passed by before you heard his door open. You sat up as he walked into the living room. 

You shared a look. He seemed annoyed. His new signature mood.

"What?" You spat. 

"Don't." He warned. 

"Don't what?" You replied in the same tone. 

"Don't be a brat." He said. 

You laughed coldly. 

"I'm not the one being a brat Simon." 

"Lieutenant." He corrected it once more. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"Why did you pass by the training grounds again?" He asked. 

"Because Price asked me to." You answered honestly. 

You stood up walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He stopped you halfway, grasping your arm. It wasn't soft but he was still careful not to hurt you. 

"Sparrow. Don't come insult me in front of my men." He said in a serious tone. 

"I didn't. I came to ask you something. You fucking yelled at me." You answered. 

"I have other things to do other than giving you attention." He scolded. 

"I didn't ask for attention." You replied, taking your arm back and crossing them over your chest. Fury growing in you.

"Y/N."

"Oh, we're back on a name to name basis?" You asked sarcastically. 

He frowned. You were pushing his buttons. Unfortunately for both of you, he was too. 

"Sparrow. You and I are not-" 

"What? We're not friends?" You asked, interrupting him. 

He stood there, silent. 

"Is that what you're going to say?" You started now letting your anger finally out. 

"Are you going to push me away again? And then leave without saying a word?" You continued your tone slowly rising. 

"Are we going to fight until you leave and then you'll come back as if nothing happened? Fuck Simon! It looks like you're doing this on purpose!!" You ended. 

And suddenly it hit you. Like a shit ton of bricks.

"You are…" you said in a whisper. 

He turned away. 

"You are! You're doing it on purpose. You're making us hate each other before you leave on missions." You said, incredulous. 

"Y/N stop." He warned in a tone that promised repercussions. 

"Why? Why are you doing this?" You asked, stepping closer. 

He seemed to think for a minute. 

"I'm a soldier. I go out there. I kill and I very possibly… get killed." He explained. 

You frowned in confusion. He groaned in annoyance. 

"I might not come back." He said abruptly. 

"I know that. So what? You think making me hate you is what…? Going to make it… feel ok?" You asked. 

He looked straight at you. 

"My death isn't something that deserves mourning." 

You blinked. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Anger spoke volumes. Actually it moved fast too. You didn't exactly know how you grabbed the pillow from the couch and started hitting him with it. 

"SIMON, FUCKING RILEY, DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT AGAIN." You punctuated every word with a hit. 

He groaned. You were really hitting his last nerves. 

"I care! I fucking care! It's not up to you to decide if I should or not!" You said, this time tears prickling at your eyes. 

He noticed. You hit him harder trying to hide it from him. He grabbed the pillow, snatching it from your grip and throwing it somewhere in the room. He grabbed your wrists making you back up against the wall. 

"Calm down." He tried, his voice slightly calmer. 

"No! Fuck Simon!" You scolded. 

You stared at each other. 

"Lieutenant Simon ghost Riley, you better come back to me." You whispered. 

He didn't say anything. He leant forward, letting the top of his skull mask rest on your forehead and hissed a fuck. Your breaths mixing together. 

"If we hate each other. We have nothing to lose in this situation. We shouldn't have…been friends in the first place." He explained in a whisper.

"Do you hate me?" You asked in a whisper too.

His grip on your wrists tightened. He didn't answer. 

"If I don't come back. You're going to have to deal with it." He answered coldly. 

He let go of your arms, stepping back as you looked at him, eyes wide in shock. He simply turned around. And walked out of the apartment.

You bit your lip closing your eyes. God. He was stubborn. You were hurt once more. Even if you knew he didn't mean it. In his stupid attempt to spare you from being hurt, he ironically hurt you. 

You took a deep breath. You wanted to sleep, forget this whole discussion. You wanted to roll into your blankets. So you did, and you let sleep take you. 

That morning, you had gotten up with very little motivation. You had realized quite quickly he had not slept home. You tried to go about your day but your mind kept running back to him. Was he really going to leave with saying goodbye? 

The hours ticked and the more the realization settled in. He wasn't coming back. You decided to go to the base in the afternoon to drop a report. You had met with the squad, avoiding talking about their lieutenant. You told them goodbye, threatening to go find them if they don't come back. They had announced they were leaving late in the night, the departure being changed again. 

You were going to miss them. You had started to get used to their presence. To enjoy their company. They had grown on you. 

You walked home pretty late. Feeling devastated by your roommate's behavior. You wanted to see him. Talk to him. Hug him before he left. But it wouldn't happen. The thought making you want to cry. 

You walked into your apartment. The silence felt horrible. You dropped your coat over the couch, slowly walking to his bedroom. A shy knock on his door was heard. It was the only thing heard. Nothing. Your hand reached for the doorknob slowly. Turning it, you opened his door. Empty. He wasn't there. 

You turned around, feeling the need to go back to your bed. You froze. Your door was open. You frowned, slowly walking into your room. You noticed a bag on your bed. You approached, sitting next to it. You opened it, taking out the soft object inside. 

You stared at it. Tears rushing down your cheeks. It was a squish-able round plush. Of the grim reaper. It was black, with a cute skull for a face. You hugged it. 

Knock knock knock. 

You looked up. Holding the plush, you stood, walking to the door. You opened it. 

"Hi! I'm… Sergeant Hansen… I'm your new neighbor… are you ok?" 

You stared at the man in front of you.

He wasn't going to say goodbye.

----

tags:

@lemontails @cabreezer0117 @tomhardy411 @brxghtixghtz @shuttlelauncher81 @pinkdazelight @sirenbunnylol @snortangeldust @novausstuff @gasstationfifacard @emotion-not-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @simpforavillain @minimisthios @catied32 @poohkie90 @watermaylon-writes @thereealink @meimhem @sorryi-mtrash @gaymistakeboii @bittersw33t-lotus @gh0stm3g @freckledmuffin @itsasecrets-things @xback1021 @connierk690 @feedthefandoms995 @friendlyneighboorhoodgothicpagan @dead-noodles @friendly-reject @critter-mylo @honeymariee @badame0224 @kitty-satan1 @all-good-things-have-an-ending @tianotfound @thriving-n-jiving @hailstrum18 @kiruoris @thats-s0-ravenn @orcasarebigbabies @makastaco @abajointrossyearl @kaylynninice24 @cated18 @swg141 @ghost-2513 @whore4dilfs @yggrid @jaehyacinths @juneitoo @popevickysmainbitch @topgirl17 @mildlyhopeless @feyredarling92 @thegirlintheshadows101-blog  @badbittywitty @yourmom3-5 @tapioca-marzipan @xoprincesslea @here4thespice @goldyghoul @wolfyland07 @chingaderastillidie @d4z01 @stokcholm @khjssss @julesclues @hopefuloperaangelnerd

[collapsedglasshouses]

Consequences || Noah Sebastian x Reader [Part 1]

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: Y/N has known Noah since he became her brother's best friend. Growing up with him and knowing everything about each other let to them also being close friends. But something changes between them when Y/N is moving in with them due to a water damage in her apartment and it all leads to Nick's 30th birthday party.

Warnings: NSFW 18+!, MDNI!, language, mention of marijuana, implied medication use, oral sex (female receiving), alcohol consumption, (feel free to let me know if i missed anything <3)

A/N: So this is the first work I every put onto tumblr and also the first work I every publish in English… Therefore: Pls have in mind that English isn’t my first language and I'm new to writing smut! If you have tips or tricks for me to improve my writing, pls feel free to message me! The idea was spooking around my head for a while. Be safe ppl and remember if you are under the age of 18, pls do not interact with my stuff since I’m really not comfortable with that (if i see it anyways i will block you). Now enjoy! <3

November 29, 2022 was the day everything changed…

12:34 PM; November 29, 2022

You woke up in the house where your brother and his friends lived. At the moment you kind of lived there due to water damage at your own apartment.

While the other roommates were momentarily out of the house, it was very empty and quiet around here. So it was no problem for you to get the spare bedroom. When you realised your brother was still sleeping, you tip toed down to the kitchen area where you found Jolly, Noah and Folio preparing a cake with candles.

"I think I've never seen you guys be so cute before." you mocked them while eying the cake. It was shaped like a guitar and coloured in black while being decorated with wonky red letters saying „Happy Birthday, Nick!“

You smiled to yourself before going around the kitchen counter and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge "So, when do we start tonight?" you ask your friends while sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"It depends on how long Jolly and Folio can distract Nick." Noah answers before walking towards you, stepping in between your legs and than grabbing a cup from the shelf above you while looking at you.

"What do you mean 'Jolly and Folio'? What about us?" you ask your brother's best friend while holding his gaze. It wasn’t unusual for you two to be close to each other since you had known Noah for ages considering his friendship with your brother Nick, but since you were living here something had changed. From sleeping in on the couch together while watching anime and waking up in each others arms to him telling you about song ideas that he didn’t tell anyone else about or those small touches you exchanged whenever no one was watching that seemed so innocent but still left you guessing.

When he finally broke your gaze and stepped back to pour himself a cup of coffee, you took a big sip out of your water bottle to drown out your thoughts before anyone noticed your nervousness.

"You two need to prepare the house while Folio and I go equipment shopping with your brother." Jolly explains before you hear a shuffling upstairs, causing you all to become quite and stare at the stairs while gathering around the cake which candles were quickly lit by Jolly. It didn’t take long before your brother wobbled down the stairs and came to a hold when he saw you four standing in front of his cake smiling.

"Happy Birthday, Nick!" you all shout in union while Nick rubbed his eyes and took a couple of tired steps towards you before blowing his candles. "What are you guys planning? You act like fucking robots." he mumbles while Folio cut the cake into small pieces.

"Can't we just be grateful that mom brought you into this world 30 years ago?" you said before hugging him tightly. "Jesus… You making me sound so old. But yeah… Definitely… Even though Folio looks like you stapled that smile onto his fucking face"

The guys quickly changed the subject to not cause any further suspicion before you ate breakfast together. It didn’t take long until the three boys took of, leaving Noah and you alone to decorated the house.

You talked about anything and everything, before you asked Noah to help him hang a "Happy Birthday" sign on the wall.

You were unsuccessfully trying to reach the height the sign was supposed to go on. Before you could argue you felt arms go around your waist and shortly after that you were being lift up. You felt your pulse rise and your eyes widened. "What the fuck are you doing, Noah?" you protested - "Helping you. Now do your job."

You muttered under your breath and tried to concentrate while Noah's arms were wrapped around you. You would lie if you said you didn’t like how close he was to you but at the same time you tried to push away the way it made you feel.

"You know, I actually can’t believe Nick's thirty already. It feels like time flies by so much faster since we formed the band." Noah almost whispered while you try to concentrate on the banner before you and not how soothing his voice sounded to you. "It feels like yesterday when Nick called us to pick him up from that girl’s house because her dad caught them making out." You slightly chuckle at the memory before you signaled Noah to let you down.

"It also feels like yesterday when you called me in the middle of the night because the exact same thing happened to you and you were too proud to call Nick because you made fun of him because of said story." you reminded him while turning around and looking up into his eyes. You would never get used to the fact how tall Noah was in comparison to you. It wasn’t like you were tiny but he still was more or less a head taller than you.

"It’s not like nothing like that never happened to you, Y/N Ruffilo." he noted in a teasing voice and you exactly knew which story he meant. "Noah, you promised we would never talk about that again." - "I promised to never tell your brother that you slept with that skater jerk Michael back at your senior prom and than almost getting pregnant from it."

You remembered it clear as day how Noah drove you to the pharmacy in the early morning hours to get a Plan B and how you cried about not wanting to be a teen mom and how he comforted you by saying he would be there for the child like it was his own.

You also clearly remember your dumb crush on that Michael guy. There was this boy in your and Noah's year that you had a huge crush on since eighth grade. Michael was a skater and in retrospective he definitely wasn’t a good guy, considering his first love were definitely joints but when Noah left school at 15 to pursue his music career there was no one who stopped you from your stupid little crush, considering the fact you didn’t tell your brother because he would have hunted Michael down.

"You know I would kill you if you would even think about telling Nick." you threatened your friend and pointed a finger to his chest. Noah smirked while looking down at your hand, before grabbing the tape from your other hand and leaning to your ear. "As if you could do anything against me."

Shivers went down your spine and your heart began to beat faster while Noah left you standing there in the middle of the living room to go on with decorating. If that wasn’t enough he looked back at you and said "But at least you didn’t lose your virginity to that jerk."

You felt your cheeks burn while thinking about what he was implying. You and Noah being the same age and having such a close friendship at a phase in your live that was purely controlled by hormones, it wasn’t far off that you did in fact lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend. But you both swore that not a soul in the world would ever find out about that and managed to keep it this way to this day.

You tried to push the thoughts of the past away by biting the inside of your cheek. You didn't know what to do. Slowly but surely he was driving you insane and you didn’t even know if he was doing on purpose.

This was the moment you decided that it was best for your own good to try to avoid Noah's presence at the upcoming party. You didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship with him and therefore ruining the bond your brother had with him since ages.

11:19 PM; November 29 2022

Hours later you found yourself on the couch in the corner of the living room while the party for you brother was at its peak. You didn’t really know how many drinks you consumed, considering the fact that you took at least four shots with your brother, but you definitely started to feel the alcohol in your system while you listened to a story Bryan told you about the last tour.

You couldn’t help but think about what happened early. Noah seemingly consumed your mind. You could only think about his hands around your waist or how comfortable you two slipped into this weird situation in your friendship. When you were younger you often cuddled or were close but it all seemed so different lately and you couldn’t wrap your head around why it suddenly felt so different for you. You feared that you were imagining that change.

"I'm sorry, Bryan, but I'm not doing so well." You quickly excused yourself while standing up and making your way upstairs. You didn’t know what had gotten into you but you knew that you needed to clear your head.

You entered the upstairs bathroom, leaving the door open since no one was on this floor and looked at your self through the small mirror. Your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol you consumed and your eyes were slightly red.

You bent down and splashed a few drops of water in your face when you suddenly heard a voice behind you. "Are you okay?" Noah asked with furrowed eyebrows while placing a hand on your back, instantly sending a wave of chills down your spine.

"Yeah, yeah… Uh… I'm fine just a bit tipsy" you mumbled, drying your face with a towel before turning to face your friend.

Without even realising it you let your gaze wander and looked at Noah more closely. He wore a black turtleneck and black cargo pants, if you didn’t knew better you would say he was about to go on stage. In comparison to him you seemingly looked naked. Only dressed in a lacey black crop top and a skirt that was to short for your own good. But you were at your brother's, one of the places you felt save with wearing anything and everything.

Suddenly he raised his hand and put a strand of her behind your ear. "Do you maybe wanna watch a movie or something? You seem nervous."

You slightly look up to meet his eyes. The eyes of one of your best friends. The eyes of the boy who knew everything about you except your confusing feelings towards him. You took a deep breath and noticed his eyebrows rose for a second, before you nodded. As confused as you were, Noah was still Noah and knew exactly what he needed to do to calm your nerves. So you decided to sneak away from the party and not even an hour later you found yourself showered and in pyjamas sitting in his bed while searching for something to watch while he got ready for your sleepover.

You could still hear the music blast from outside of his room when he came back wearing sweatpants and a worn out band shirt.

"You know what you wanna watch?" Noah asks you while making himself comfortable next to you.

"You will laugh at me." - "Spirited Away?" Bullseye. Over the years Spirited Away became your comfort movie. You remember it clear as day when you first watched the movie with your brother when you were around ten. So when Noah started playing the movie all the memories you had while watching it filled your body and for a second you forgot about the weird things you've been thinking all day while snuggling into Noah's side like you always used to.

"Do you wanna tell me what has gotten into your mind?" he asked carefully when you were halfway through the movie and your heart automatically started to beat faster while you turned to look at each other.

You thought about a way to get out of this situation. You couldn’t just tell him that you had been thinking about it all day how his hands felt on your body. That would have been stupid considering the fact that you were sure you were imagining that whole atmosphere so you decided to just shake your head and look him in the eyes. Your cheeks started to feel warm and him than brushing a strand of hair behind your ear while signaling you to come closer to him didn't exactly help. You obeyed him, knowing full well he didn’t believe you, and slid closer to him until your head found its place in the crook of his neck while his arms slung around you. One around your back and the other one, to your surprise, slightly under your shirt.

"You know you can tell me everything." he said, his voice becoming a bit deeper and raspier while he started drawing circles on the exposed part of your skin. You had a feeling that you would catch fire any moment. You felt like you didn’t have any control over your body anymore. So much to your own surprise you lifted your head slightly and before you knew you placed a couple of soft kisses on this neck before stopping in your tracks and panicking. He had stopped doodling circles on your skin. Instead now he had grabbed your waist a little harsher than normal and let out a sound you last heard when you two were seventeen, a bit too drunk for you own good and definitely more naked than now.

You paused in your actions and waited for his reaction, trying to guess if you officially ruined your longterm friendship for the sake of your own amusement, but than he whispered in your ear "Why did you stop?"

Before you could think Noah turned on his back, pulling you with him so now you were sitting directly on his crotch and could feel him growing harder.

"Do you even realise what you do to me?" he almost moaned in your ear causing you to lose the last bit of clarity in your head and you kiss his neck again, more firmly than you did before.

He let out that noise again that send heavy shivers down your spine and before you could even process what was happening you grinded your hips against his. A wave of pleasure hit you when Noah began to fiddle with your shirt, silently demanding you to take it off, while slightly buckling his hips upwards. So you sat up on him and did as he demanded.

You never thought that you would every be in the position again that Noah Sebastian was looking at you like that. Pupils dilated and that look on his face that made you want to rip of his clothes.

With easiness he turned you two around so he was on top of you and took his turtleneck off, displaying all his tattoos to you that always made you weak and started kissing down your neck, than along your collarbone and eventually landed between your breasts.

"You are so fucking beautiful" he whispers against your skin causing you to moan quietly. "Fuck… Noah." You stutter while he slowly takes one of your nipples into his mouth while massaging the other with one hand. Your hands quickly found their way into his dark hair and when you pulled on it slightly he moaned against your skin.

"N-Noah.." you mumble causing him to look at you "I-…" - "Take your time, Y/N."

You took a deep breath while he stroked your skin around your waist "I need you to touch me"

Never in a million years you thought that you would say those words ever again to Noah but in this moment you needed nothing more than to feel him closer to you.

You again thought for a moment that you overstep an unspoken line because Noah stared at you for a second to long. In the exact moment you wanted to say something again he began kissing down your belly and stopped at the waistband of your panties, looking at you, searching for any kind of regret in your face but the only thing you could think about was his mouth where you needed it the most. So you buckled your hips up a little, signaling him to go on which he did with anticipation.

Noah slowly let the last bit of clothing on you slip down your legs before spreading them with his hands.

Before you could even say anything you felt his tongue against your clit and arched your back. Immediately your hands found their way back into his hair and you pulled on it, causing him to moan against your core while you nearly lost your mind.

You nearly began to sob when you felt two of his long fingers push inside of you and curve upwards. You begged that nobody would hear you scream those profanities while Noah ate you out like it was his last meal on this earth. Wet noises filled the steamy air in his room while the end credits of Spirited Away rolled in the background. You began to shake.

"Noah… I'm gonna… Noah… fuck" you cried out while trying to get a hold of yourself. You never felt this kind of way. And the fact that it was Noah making you feel that way made it even better to you.

You were a moaning mess when you came undone, grabbing Noah's hair so hard you feared you would hurt him but hearing him groan against you instead made you cum even harder.

"Oh fuck… baby… look at you… cumming so hard you can’t even contain yourself." Your body shaked as you started to come down from your high, still jerking towards Noah while he slowly kissed his way up to your face.

Your first clear thought started to form in your head when Noah was right above you looking into your eyes.

"Holy shit." - "You call it." - "Fuck." He nodded looking as surprised as you did in that moment.

You looked into his brown eyes that never left your face while he admired you. You didn’t know what to say so you did the only thing that came to your mind and grabbed his face before kissing him with force.

Noah sighed into your mouth while you could taste yourself on his mouth.

You knew that nothing would be the same after this but you both also knew now wasn’t the time to talk about.

So when you left Noah's arms and than his room around two hours later, when the house got quiet, with messed up hair and lips still slightly pink, you knew this would definitely have consequences…

READ PART 2 HERE

[qqueenofhades]

Hey! I just found your blog and followed yesterday. Came for the fact that you're the only other person in this webbed site actually say out loud that they liked Biden, stayed for the hope and determination and perspective. Anyway just wanted to introduce myself and I hope you're coping well!

Hello and welcome to you and the other sudden flood of followers that I got after yesterday's event. I'm glad to have you and hope you are all in on the project of Kicking Fascism In The Shriveled Testicles 2024, American Edition. It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it.

Biden was not my first choice (far from it) in the 2020 primary process, but when it became clear that he was going to win the nomination, I supported him early and often. Trust me, this was not a popular position, and it remains so, but so be it. By any reasonable metric, he is the most progressive president we have ever had, it is a crying shame that the media is so beholden to the Trump Teat of Drama that they gave him such a kid-gloved free pass and ratfucked Biden instead, and it makes me worry, a lot, for American democracy. I have always gotten a lot of "you support everything Biden has done so you're awful and going to hell!!!" messages, because this sure is a Webbed Site Where We Piss On the Poor, and like -- I don't. I had major disagreements with Biden, especially on foreign policy! But because I apparently did not performatively self-flagellate myself in every post about how awful he was but maybe I guess vote for him anyway, that got some people very mad! It's also true that there's literally nobody in the world anywhere, especially and including in Palestine, that would benefit from Trump becoming president again! Especially since Biden at the NATO summit recently and explicitly endorsed progress on the ceasefire framework he has been pushing for several months! So unfortunately, we live in a society where shitty choices are necessary, and that is part of being a grownup!

....anyway. Deep breaths. Rant for later. Glad you're here. I have been desperately trying to Not Politic for a bit, since doing so on social media in the year of our lord 2024 is a recipe for swift insanity, but the world keeps taking a large dump directly on those plans, and I guess someone's gotta do it. In more normal times (OH LORD WHEN), you can expect history (I am an academic by trade), random posts, various asks, and sometimes a great deal of fanfic for assorted blorbos, though the Horrors have done a number on that and I am also working on an original fantasy trilogy at the moment. (Still deciding whether I should bother trying to agent it or just publish it on Amazon/Lulu/etc.) I have turned off anon for the moment because otherwise my inbox would be a nightmare beyond comprehension, but I do generally enjoy talking about things and/or answering them as much as I can. I am old, queer, tired, fueled by coffee and spite, have been politically conscious since the first Bush Jr. term and have therefore seen all the Anti Voting nonsense before (quick thought: if it was going to deliver the perfect Leftist Messiah and/or stop a flawed candidate from becoming president, don't you think it would have done so by now?) So yes. Welcome again and I hope you will enjoy (if that is the right word for it) your stay.

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 [𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

Warnings: just cute fluff

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Taemin - Pretty boy

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Maybe the new year is already over, but it's never too late to just feel the warm and loving and caring atmosphere of the holiday

— Well, well, don't be naughty, I'm almost done! — you playfully scratch behind your big soft ear.

Mimi has been spinning around underfoot for several minutes, poking his big nose at your dangling heel in the air. No wonder, because his owner hasn't been home for several days, he misses him as much as you do. It's a pity that you can't explain to him that everything is fine, it's just that someone decided to postpone all work until the end of the year, so Mrs. Fu Xuan now doesn't let the General out of the office until there is not a single scroll left on his desk. Harsh, but Jing Yuan deserved it.

In any case, this is a good opportunity to finish the gift that you have been hiding with extreme care from your curious husband for several months. Let the General not appear at home as often as you would like, this man is as clingy as a person can imagine. Are you cooking something? He'll happily steal a couple of slices of vegetables from the chopping board and put his arm around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder until you shoo him to the table. Are you reading? It's time to take a nap on your lap — the softest and most comfortable pillow according to General Lofu Xianzhou. Going to bed? Great, he's just tired and will gladly squeeze you in his warm, almost suffocating embrace. And it's incredibly sweet, but not when there were only a few days left before the New Year so that you could finish his gift.

Leo raises his head with some puzzlement, watching you vigorously weave thick threads with knitting needles, periodically leaning back in an armchair opposite the fireplace to evaluate the preliminary result of your painstaking work. You're really bad at needlework. If someone had told you a few years ago that you would be sitting and knitting with a serious look, you would have laughed a lot at the person who voiced such a funny joke. The desire to step over yourself, learn something new, become better for another person is also part of the relationship that you got involved in as unexpectedly as you decided to make a gift with your own hands.

The firewood crackles softly in the fireplace, and the dancing flames cast a soft shadow on the carpet under your feet and a half-asleep Mimi threatening to crush your ankle when the lion settles his huge fluffy head on it. The same atmosphere, the same warmth and the same thrill as the day when Jing Yuan proposed to you so simply and casually in this very place. You've always been like this. Carefree, just enjoying each other's company. Perhaps, from the outside, your banter with each other, lightness and carelessness are seen by others as the relationship of two good friends, but isn't that the whole point? You always think that Jing Yuan is really your closest and irreplaceable friend, with a smile on your lips, inexpressibly happy that you are so lucky to have him.

Therefore, even what you are doing clumsily now, snorting irritably under your breath when the drawing slides to the side and the threads get tangled in your hands, in some way brings you pleasure. It is unlikely that Jing Yuan will wear this, as there is an extremely low probability that you will take up knitting needles again, but you pass all those warm feelings that have been lurking in your heart all these years through your fingers holding metal sticks in your hands in the hope that the General will be able to feel them on his own body.

— Oh, well, your owner will owe me when I give him this gift, — you chuckle softly, glancing at the lion, whose ear twitches as soon as it catches the sound of your voice.

A soft sigh leaves your chest as you lean back in your chair, reaching for a mug of cocoa with tiny marshmallows on the coffee table. The hot sweetness spreads in your mouth, and you calm down a little, once again looking at the sweater on your lap.

— Do you think it doesn't look too lame? — you "try on" a sweater by applying it to your chest, and you meet Mimi's sleepy gaze, snorting softly before turning away in the opposite direction from you. — Is it that bad?!

— What's wrong, dear? — the heavy weight of Jing Yuan's body abruptly falls on your shoulders, making you shudder when he suddenly sneaks up from behind, wrapping his big hands around your shoulders.

Mimi instantly takes her head off your leg and happily wags her tail, like a dog waiting for its owner. Perhaps Jing Yuan was right in calling him his pet cat.

— Aeons, you're going to give me a heart attack! — you put your hand to your chest in fright before realizing that the sweater you tied is still pressed against it, and you hurriedly crumple it up, stuffing it under your side. — Have you finished your work yet?

— Mmm, not really,— the General almost purrs, burying his nose in the curve of your neck.

— Not really?

— Aren't you glad to see me at all? It would be a shame to celebrate the New Year separately.

You roll your eyes, but gently wrap your arms around your husband's forearm, sighing in resignation.

— Okay, I'll set the table now.

You are about to get out of the warm embrace of Jing Yuan, when Mimi stops you, insistently poking his nose into your thigh, under which lies what you have been hiding from your husband for so long.

— What is it, Mimi? Did you find something? — The General's hands are leaving your shoulders, and you can almost feel cold sweat rolling down your forehead.

Jing Yuan strokes the lion's head, but he completely ignores the owner's touch, continuing to snort and try to seep between your hip and the chair.

— Y/N, are you hiding something from me? — The General squints, smiling playfully and leaning towards your face.

— N-no! I guess I just spilled some cocoa… HEY! — you scream when your husband silently crouches, grabbing your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You squirm, frantically slapping him on the back when you feel Jing Yuan leaning into the chair. — STOP! Let me go, there's nothing interesting there!

— Really? Then why did you hide it? — The General chuckles softly, and you drop your hands in despair, noticing the sneaky lion sitting behind his master and wagging his tail contentedly. — This is…

— It's not finished yet, — you mutter unhappily, propping your chin with your fist behind your husband's back.

Jing Yuan gently holds you with one hand, with the other unfolding a soft sweater over the seat of the chair. The red threads are intertwined in neat chains, and in the center of the gift there is an embroidered lion, slightly uneven, but seemingly insanely charming to the General.

— Is that Mimi?

— Y-yes… Or what should have been him.

The man gently puts you down on the floor, and you awkwardly look away, feeling embarrassment tingle your cheeks.

— It looks ready, can I try it on?

— I told you… — you started to speak, but stopped, noticing with what trepidation Jing Yuan lifts the sweater from the chair, leaning it against his muscular chest. — Oh… All that remains is to cut the thread.

You take scissors from the table, carefully cutting the red thread, and take the sweater from Jing Yuan's hands while he hurriedly throws off his uniform, presenting himself half naked in front of you and forcing you to frantically squeeze your gift in your hand, checking whether it is too prickly to put it on a bare body.

— Y/N, — Jing Yuan smiles, holding out his hands.

— Okay, okay… — you sigh, finally giving the sweater back.

Your husband carefully pulls on his sweater, smoothing out the bound image of Mimi on his chest. He looks so happy when he looks at the thing that is bound with your own hands, and he can almost feel how your love, care and efforts are woven into these soft threads to see a smile on his face.

— Why only Mimi?" Where is my beloved wife? — The General grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his warm body.

— A sweater with me wouldn't be so cute, — you giggle, burrowing into Jing Yuan's chest. So softly.

— Who told you that? — your husband's fingertips are placed under your chin, forcing you to look at him. — You are the sweetest woman in the world.

The man's amber eyes sparkle in the soft light of the fireplace, and you can't help but smile, rising on tiptoe to leave a short kiss on the General's cheek.

— Flatterer, do you think this will save you from being punished for ruining the whole surprise?

— I hope so, — The General rubs the tip of his nose against yours, loosely closing his eyes and pressing you closer to his body. — Thank you, my love.

P.S. Mimi's credibility was undermined after this incident!

[the-kr8tor]

Speed Drive

🎉500 celebration fic🎉

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 6.2k

Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.

A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any ai software*

Navigation

Masterlist

You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.

Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.

He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.

The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.

"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.

He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.

"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"

"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"

"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.

"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.

"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.

"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.

You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"

"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.

You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"

"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"

"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.

"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.

"Get it nice and toasty for me?"

"What are you? Banana bread?"

"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.

"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.

You wink at him, "okay, dad!"

"Lil shit" he says with a smile.

—

Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.

Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.

He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"

"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.

"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.

"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.

"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.

"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"

"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.

"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.

"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.

You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.

He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"

"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"

"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.

He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"

"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.

"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.

"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.

He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"

"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.

"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.

"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.

He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"

You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.

"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"

"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."

"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.

"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"

"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.

"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"

Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"

You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.

"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"

You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.

"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.

"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.

You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"

He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.

"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.

"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"

"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"

"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.

"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"

Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.

You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.

Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.

Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.

—

Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.

He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.

He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.

A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.

You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.

"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.

"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.

"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"

"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"

Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.

Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.

Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.

"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.

He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.

Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.

"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.

"Or sleep" he grumbles.

"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."

He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.

Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.

"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"

—

You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.

Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.

"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"

Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.

"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.

Click.

"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.

He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.

You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."

"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.

Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.

—

After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.

Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.

Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.

"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.

"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"

You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"

"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"

"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.

"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"

"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"

"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"

For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.

"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"

—

"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"

"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.

"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"

He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"

"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"

"Why not?"

"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"

He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.

"We've got time to spare"

"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.

"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"

Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.

You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.

"Aww, I think we used it all"

"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.

"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.

"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.

"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.

"No, maybe you should say it often"

So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"

—

You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.

Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.

You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.

The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.

Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.

"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"

He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.

Click.

"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.

"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.

Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.

It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.

Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.

"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.

"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.

"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.

Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'

—

You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.

He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.

"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.

You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?

You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"

"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.

You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"

He nods, unconvinced.

After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.

"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.

"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"

"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.

Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"

"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"

"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"

"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.

Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.

Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.

"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.

—

You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.

Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.

The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"

"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."

"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.

"Are we still far?"

"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.

"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.

"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"

"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.

—

As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.

"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"

"Missing home already?"

"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.

"They also have a serial killer too"

You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"

He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.

"Hobie, you're joking right?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.

He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.

"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.

"We could always take a detour right now–"

"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.

He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.

—

An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.

Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.

"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.

Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"

He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.

You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.

"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.

"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.

"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'

You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.

—

You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.

"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"

Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.

There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.

The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.

"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.

"Add that to the list"

"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'

"There," you hum happily.

"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.

"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."

You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.

With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.

You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.

At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.

Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.

"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"

"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"

"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.

"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.

Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.

"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.

"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.

"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."

He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.

A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.

"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.

You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.

A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️

[drenix004]

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 part2

Valeria Garza Headcanons

Part 1 here

Note: I plan to do headcanons of Valeria as chapters of Valeria's fanfic are published! besides, I also want to do the same with 141, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Valeria,Horangi and koning in different situations and contexts, especially if they are shapeshifters or hybrids feel free to ask for a headcanon, one shot or drable, I'll be happy to do it! And they'll be all soft, comforting and light angsty themes! Life is already too cruel and hard to make them suffer here too :)

Sadly there will be no smut or nsfw, I'm really bad at writing that kind of content, sorry. But, there will be slight superficial mentions of that as a reward.

Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Summary: You work at the bar of a night bar in Las Almas, you knew the menu backwards and forwards so you had a certain fame. One day you draw the attention of a certain narco when you kicked an idiot out of the establishment just as the armored van was passing by, not only did you draw attention because of the commotion, but also because not a sound came out of your mouth, not a whimper, curse or insult, nothing. Just a death stare at the man.

━━━━━━━━》❈《 ━━━━━━━

Valeria has always had women at her disposal, it was nothing more than something carnal, just physical. I had never had any other contact than that with people of the same sex.

●Until you came, you opened the forbidden door that The Nameless One kept in the depths of his being; their feelings.

●You reached to the depths of his being without realizing it, you were not a one-night stand. You are more than that to The Nameless.

●Now the consequences had to be paid.

●Valeria didn't let you go when you had already walked through that damn door, oh no.

● That's not how the game was played and Valeria was very clear about it, since you opened her forbidden place you were doomed.

 ● You were hers, as well as the consequences of having fallen in love with her to the point of insanity if possible.

●You calmed her inner demons, but you also teased them if she didn't have you around.

●Same as now.

●His office was a shit after a fit of rage, they hadn't heard from you for more than three days.

● Many bad scenarios had been generated in his head, did the rival cartel kidnap you?

●That couldn't be possible, even among criminals there was a code: never mess with one's family or partner. Something that could be very simple, but that was essential to avoid generating conflicts beyond the territory or the product.

 ●Although you were not Valeria's official partner, by now she had made it clear that she was very interested in you. 

 Valeria was getting tired after searching with no results, so she decides to investigate everything about you. She didn't want to do it because she wanted to respect your privacy, but that had already moved to another level.

●She found out that the name you gave her wasn't your real name, so she couldn't find you that easily... With your real name he was able to access your credit card records, he realized that you did not stay in the same place for more than two days in inns or small hotels.

 . ●Valeria recognized that pattern, you were running away. But what were you running from? It couldn't be her because she never gave you a reason to do it.

The more I researched about you, the more things came to light; you were three years younger than Valeria, you had gardening experience, years ago you had been admitted several times to the emergency room for assault injuries, but they never mentioned a neck injury.

●That fact became interesting to her, Valeria had noticed the scar on your neck that you tried to hide with chokers.

Valeria went to every hotel and inn you were in, looked at the security footage, and then left without saying a word. He had to admit that you were cunning, a challenge he liked.

●Unknowingly, you entered a hunting game, where you are the prey and Valeria was the hunter.

●Valeria followed your steps closely, the chase becoming more and more exciting, the beast within her moving violently every time it got closer and closer.

●But she was aware that she wasn't the only one chasing you, there was a man who was also looking for you; your brother. The man had complaints of domestic violence, and also had an arrest warrant and a restraining order.

●Valeria understood why you were running away, you were afraid that your brother would hurt you again. that's why you ended up in Las Almas.

●Valeria would help you escape your brother's clutches... to end up in his.

● Valeria was no saint, but at least her claws would be more careful and gentler than your brother's. She could not and would not change what she already was, but she could take care of you in his darkness. ●When she knew where you were, she left immediately. Your brother had also found your whereabouts.

●It was a race against the clock, who would get there first? ●Which demon would get to you first?

●You were the ray of light that the darkness wanted out of selfishness, to envelop you completely so that you could not escape, you were its complement… because without light there is no darkness.

Part3?

I had planned to upload this for hallowen, but I couldn't because I had an anxious crisis :) why do I feel this looks more like a one shot than a headcanon? anyway I liked how it turned out, I hope you do too. likes and reblogs are much appreciated!

[friendlybowlofsoup]

Another Update

Hello Friends,

I have a rather long (but optimistic!) update to share with you all today. As many of you are probably tired of reading these kind of posts, I have a TL;DR here, but I did want to share what has been on my mind in that past half-year that I haven't been here.

It has been rough, and busy as always, but I think I'm finally facing myself and my project for the first time in a very long time.

TL;DR (it's actually long, I have a lot to say (*_ _)人)

I soul-searched and decided to stop compromising on my own feelings with regards to this project. I gave in to everything I wanted to do.

Plot changes, which means some character changes, which means some of the demo is outdated.

GotRM will be switching over to Twine.

----

OH MAN DID I SUFFER THE LAST FEW MONTHS

After my previous update, I hunkered down and really analyzed how I wanted to proceed with GotRM as a project. Because even prior to that post, I had already been going through long periods of hiatuses (which you are all aware of), and while I didn't lie about school taking up my time, I was also harboring a growing dissatisfaction with my own writing that really killed my progress for a long time.

So after everything had settled, I sat down and forced myself to peel apart my work. I know I said I would answer asks, but I uninstalled all of my social media and put aside this blog to focus. I made a note of all the things I liked and didn't like, and I made a list of things I wanted to change or improve on. The biggest point was that I also looked at my efficiency during actual writing sessions: how much of my time was spent writing vs. fighting with code? How could I change that?

And after a lot of deliberation, I figured there were a few things I had to change from the ground up, summed up in four points:

My working style was super incompatible with grad school. I can't spend 20-30 minutes scrolling up and down CSIDE checking code or looking for narratives while also jumping between chapters to make sure events line up. As this story grows, the more difficult it becomes to keep track of all the branches, so I needed an alternative working method, which I am adhering to now, and it prioritizes efficiency.

I hated the way I was tracking and coding stats in-game. I have griped so much about coding stats, and I have adhered to such a rigid style that I really felt trapped whenever I was confronted with balancing them out. So I'm throwing that to the wind and redoing how I utilize and convey them. Player-side, this decision doesn't change much since I never fully utilized stats in the demo anyway, and the stats page with indicators will still exist, but I'm getting rid of stat bars and how I treat stat checks.

The story I want to write now is different from the one I started out with. I've known for a while that GotRM was becoming far more than the tiny, wishful novella that I wrote as a teenager. I held onto that old story for a long time, but there's just so much I want to change that I realized I'd been clinging to a story I no longer enjoyed writing. So I spent the majority of the last few months rewriting GotRM from scratch. I redid some worldbuilding, I changed a lot of plot points, and I fixed a lot of characters' backstories accordingly. This meant scrapping stuff from even the demo, but that turned out to not be the biggest issue because:

I wanted to branch away from ChoiceScript. Honestly, I never really cared about getting officially published, but the camaraderie in the forums and on Tumblr were why I committed to CS and CoG. However, ultimately, I really want the functionality that other tools can offer GotRM, and so after a long internal debate, I will be switching over to Twine. Fortunately, since I was rewriting everything anyways, this has been relatively painless, and passage mapping has made everything so much neater. I am trying my best to make it up to chapter 2 before I release the new demo, so please look forwards to that!

And so yes, I am still here, chugging along.

I love this game and this story: it's been my creative escape for as long as I could remember, and you can imagine how frustrated I was when I realized I was starting to dread working on it.

I am forever learning more about myself and my writing style, and this is simply more of that journey. Thank you everyone for sticking around, for joining the discord, and for checking up on me--that I have all of you has truly been a dream.

Hopefully more updates to come soon! I understand that there may be questions about these new changes, so please ask away! I will (try) to release some asks that I've been working on in the drafts too, but I will wait until at least tomorrow to release them so that this post doesn't get drowned out immediately.

And as always, with a lot of love,

FriendlyBowlofSoup (Mei)

[nana-b0b]

Horse racing

The name Ran means "orchid" (蘭) and is the name of this short graphic novel.

Ran's name is inspired more exactly by the black orchids, which are the most exotic within their kind, moreover, there is some symbolism with The Garden of Earthly Delights (Bosch's painting) and all its hidden meanings, in part and summarized: the most beautiful orchids in the hands of man.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>●

|| We have more around here and we have her name! "She" is Aurora Imagawa, a special grade sorceress with a very very scandalous past but who is currently in Sukuna's hands... we'll find out why.

So who is Guido? An ancestor of Aurora's who had her same curse, who we know here as "the Meiji era girl" but now has a temporary name and will have a story to tell us about her... and her favorite son, Choso.

The story of Guido and Aurora can be interspersed, sometimes there will be drawings of Aurora, and others of Guido, I'm not doing things in chronological order because I would have to explain a lot of things and sometimes I like to keep the mystery.

Some notes:

♡Guido was born with a very out of the ordinary beauty, she has a sleepy and tired look most of the time but is a very astute young lady.

♡Her mother was very annoyed with her horse because it was not straight like her sisters and not black like hers, she has a very dark auburn warmth in her hair, also, her eyebrows are a bit thick breaking with the beauty standards of the time.

♡Her eyes are light blue, her mother says she is "too much water" bad omen, she should have been born with brown eyes like her sisters, rooted to the earth like the cherry tree.

♡Aurora has one of Guido's moles, the one next to her lip.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>●

Nana's notes:

Thanks to everyone who is supporting these drawings, I really appreciate it very much and I hope to continue working with this story because I would like to show you more things and make it your afternoon novella! something to read for a while and think during the day.

I saw a lot of people excited to write inspired by this story and I just want to say one thing: take your pen and do it!

And remember: if you publish it don't hesitate to tag me so I can see it, I would love to be able to read it and even be able to continue to be inspired for storytelling.

I'm very excited to inspire more artists with my graphic pieces, in a way it's my goal to take care of the details, the scenes, the gestures of each drawing, because I want you to feel it as much as I do (this is also closely related to why Aurora's face is so little seen or always covered, keeping her face gives that air of mystery and gives way to the possibility of imagining that she could be your OC or... you).

[mothandpidgeon]

Aunt Flo's First Visit [pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader]

MASTERLIST - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After Sarah gets her first period, Joel is determined to be a supportive parent despite the fact that he doesn't know the first thing about menstruation. But when he goes to the pharmacy to shop for supplies, he finds himself in way over his head.

Words: 2k

Rating: G

Warnings: period stuff and everything that comes with it

a/n: This is really fluffy and a little silly. I saw a tik tok by a menstrual product company about a customer trying to find the right thing for his daughter and it just gave me such Joel energy this happened. I haven't finished any fic in MONTHS because I'm working on my book and that's not finished either so it feels really good to complete something. (If you want to keep up with my publishing journey, I'm mainly documenting it here.) Please enjoy.

Also, I challenged myself to write in present tense bc I never do and I really was struggling so pretend the grammar is all correct. Thank you.

Joel knows how to do a lot of things. He can manage a crew, change a flat tire, and build just about anything. He never considered himself smart by the classical definition but he knows how to make a car battery from scratch despite the fact that he got a C in chemistry. 

If somebody had told him a decade ago that he’d one day be paralyzed with fear in the feminine hygiene aisle, he would’ve laughed. But right now, Joel would give all his knowledge along with his left arm if he could just figure out what the hell he ought to buy for his daughter.

He knew this day would come eventually. It’s his own damn fault he never prepared himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he must’ve expected Sarah to just know how to handle it. Being a single dad wasn’t a walk in the park but he couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be if Sarah wasn’t so damn self sufficient. Even at 13, she can get herself fed and dressed and off to school without help. Of course she could figure this out on her own.

But Joel was reminded that Sarah’s still just a kid when she finally told him that she’d gotten her period for the very first time. She was so embarrassed to admit it, Joel practically had to drag it out of her. 

He was angry with himself. He should’ve been ready, wished that he knew the right words to say. Joel promised himself he would put things right so she wouldn’t feel like she ever had to hide anything from him. 

That was a lot easier said than done, he realizes now.

Joel stands in the aisle overwhelmed and confused. Boxes and soft packages in friendly, pastel colors stare at him from the shelves. He’s never spent much time with the feminine hygiene products, not unless he was scooting by them to pick up a little carton from the family planning section. He hasn’t bothered to learn about that stuff. Women’s stuff. He’s not disgusted by menstruation, isn’t afraid of it. It’s just one of those things he never had to deal with. 

Without Sarah’s mom, though, he’s had to figure out plenty of girl things. He can remember the lesson on managing Sarah’s curls from the kind woman at the hair salon. Names of Shampoos and oils that felt foreign were now routine and he’s mastered using the combs and clips that looked more intimidating than some of his power tools. But he struggled for a good long while before that kind stylist took pity on him. 

And here he is again, flying blind into the female whirlwind. 

There’s so many options on the shelf. Words like HEAVY and gentle and sport. And the prices. Christ! He thought the hair stuff was expensive.  

Joel’s head is spinning but he has to get it together. He’d vowed long ago that he would be Dad and Mom too. That’s what his daughter deserves. 

Just a year ago, he hovered outside of the dressing room at the mall as Sarah tried on training bras. 

“Did you find one? You were in there for a while,” he said when she emerged.

“Dad,” she replied in that tone she was using more and more often, the one that told him to shut up.

It isn’t the changes to her body that scare him, all of the subtle ways she’s becoming less familiar. His little girl is growing up and he mourns her childhood. It won’t be long before she’s driving, going off to college. Maybe she’ll have a daughter of her own but Joel hopes she’ll wait longer than he did, have a chance to make a life for herself.

Speaking of which, he realizes he’s going to have to sit her down for a real talk about boys next. He better get ready for that one. Explaining where babies come from hadn’t been too difficult. Condoms and venereal diseases are a whole different ball game. Teenage boys are gremlins– he’d know– and Sarah’s so smart and pretty, she’s going to have to be careful. 

Joel doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at the shelves when a woman appears in the aisle, another shopper. She’s got her keys looped around a finger, headed straight for the tampons, her flip flops smacking against the bottoms of her feet. Joel has a box in his hands. He doesn’t even know what he’s picked up, it’s just got the least intimidating packaging and the price is reasonable. He can’t help but catch the woman’s eye and the look she gives him is a little wary. It must be obvious that he’s out of his depths. But she gives a polite, tight lipped smile and proceeds to ignore him as she approaches the pantheon of period products. 

He watches as her eyes dart around the shelves and quickly she makes a selection, plucking up a box clad with pink and purple silhouettes. So easy. Well, it must be easy for her. He wonders how many times she’s visited this part of the pharmacy, if her mother brought her to the store when she was Sarah’s age and showed her all the options. 

His free hand fidgets at his side and he swallows dryly. He feels like an idiot but he reminds himself that he’s got to do this. For Sarah. The woman is already half way back to the end of the aisle by the time he’s found his voice. 

---

“Excuse me, miss. Could I trouble you for a second?” you hear from the man behind you. 

You turn around, confused, but there’s nobody else that he could be talking to. Here you thought you could get in and out quickly. You’re cranky and tired and all day you’ve had toe curling cramps. It hits you like a ton of bricks every month. All you want to do is get home to your couch to watch some crappy reality tv. 

But this lumberjack of a man– broad shoulders wrapped in a flannel shirt– is giving you puppy dog eyes. You’ve never been hit on while holding a box of Tampax Pearl but there’s a first time for everything. 

“I apologize. This is real awkward,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck with a big hand. “I’m trying to get something for my daughter but I’m a little lost.”

His voice is warm and sweet and he’s handsome as hell but you keep your distance. 

“Didn’t she tell you what to get?” you ask. 

His expression grows even more bashful and his voice lowers. 

“I’m afraid it’s, uh…well, it’s new territory for both of us,” he admits. 

You can’t help the sympathetic smile that forms on your lips. Some poor preteen girl just got welcomed into the cruel arms of womanhood. It will be all downhill from here. Wild mood swings, angry breakouts, blood leaking through her favorite pair of pants. At least, it seems, she’s got her dad on her side. It takes a lot of balls for a guy to pick up a box of tampons let alone stop a stranger and ask for help. 

You’d like to tell him that you’re too busy to help– you can hear your Haagen Dazs calling you all the way from the freezer– but you at least owe it to this kid to help him out. 

“What’ve you got?” you ask, nodding towards the powder blue box in his grasp. It looks so little in his big hand. You walk back towards him and take a look. “Oh. Nice try but I wouldn’t go with that.”

He regards his choice again. It’s kind of adorable, the way the corners of his mouth frown as he squints at the words on the front. “What’s wrong with these?” His words aren’t defensive, he’s genuinely curious. 

“Tampons can be pretty tricky when you’re that age. And those don’t even come with an applicator,” you explain. You remember trying to use a tampon that first time. You’d never put anything up there before and it stung like hell.

“Applicator?” His brows furrow and you can see fear in his brown eyes. 

“So you can put it…in,” you tell him and motion with your finger, jabbing your pointer upwards. 

His cheeks go pink. Ears too. You try to suppress a giggle as his brain short circuits for a second. His throat works as he swallows and places the box back on the shelf— gingerly, like it might explode. 

“Which are the ones that don’t…go inside?” he asks. 

It’s impossible to keep from grinning. 

“Pads,” you say. 

He nods. 

You choose a package and place it in his hands. It’s a multipack, everything from light to heavy, and no wings so she doesn’t feel like she’s wearing a diaper. 

“Try this,” you say. “She might not like them. It takes some trial and error.”

He reads over the circle in the corner that claims it’s 100% Leak Free! You can see he’s still overwhelmed but he’s far less nervous. He really is good looking and you have to wonder how he doesn’t have a woman in his life to help him out.

“This many?” he asks. 

“She might need more.” You shrug. “Just stay away from the scented ones. And you have Tylenol at home?”

“I think so.”

“How about a heating pad?”

He shakes his head. 

“Go get one,” you advise. 

He blows out air and then steels himself with a nod, ready to face the red menace. 

“I’m awfully grateful for your help,” he says and you can tell by the look on his face, he means that. 

You feel your own cheeks heat. 

---

Joel ends up behind her in the checkout line after securing an electric heating pad and grabbing an extra bottle of Motrin. 

“What do you think?” he asks, showing her what he picked.

“Good job,” she tells him. Her smile is tinged with amusement but his chest still swells with pride. Maybe he’s not such a failure of a father after all.

Now that he’s less bewildered, Joel can’t help but notice how pretty this woman is. She’s dressed for comfort without any make up as far as he can tell but that smile and the kindness in her eyes is what does it for him. If they met under different circumstances, maybe he’d try to flirt. Not that he’s had the opportunity to practice recently. It’s for the best, though. There’s absolutely no way the combination of bumbling idiot, single parent, and menstruation makes for a romantic connection. Besides he’s here on an errand for his daughter.

Joel tries to keep his eyes from wandering over her as the teenager behind the register rings her up, the pink box and two bags of M&Ms. She gives Joel one last smile before leaving the store. 

He thought he might feel embarrassed buying nothing but period supplies but he’s too busy thinking about how helpful she was. Sarah would just about die from mortification if he told her a complete stranger gave him a crash course in maxi pads. He chuckles to himself. 

“Hey!” someone calls as Joel approaches his truck.

It’s her, the woman from the pharmacy, crossing the parking lot. Joel smooths his hair.

“These are for her,” she says, handing him one of her bags of candy. “Chocolate helps.”

Joel gives a soft laugh as he weighs the M&Ms in his hand. “That I knew,” he says. 

“And, uh, here,” she tells him, holding out the long receipt. 

Joel takes the paper. On the back she’s scribbled her name and phone number. 

“You know, I don’t know. I just thought– if she has any questions. Or maybe if you do,” she says, shrugging. She’s much less confident now than she was in front of that endless selection of menstrual products. It’s cute and makes Joel feel a little less like an idiot for the way he was fumbling a few minutes ago. 

“I owe you one,” he says.

She shakes her head. “Just be patient,” she warns. “She’s gonna be a bitch but don’t take it personally.”

Joel grins. 

“You’re a good dad,” she tells him and he doesn’t know how to respond to that.

She’s already backing away towards her car and waves again. 

Joel looks at her number, once again finding something he doesn’t know. He’d give his left arm to figure out how soon is too soon to call. 

---

MASTERLIST - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

[onlyjaeyun]

alright, i'm gonna address this ask once and then just not respond to anything else, even the asks supporting me bc im a little exhausted and on the verge of losing motivation so i dont wanna trigger it by going back and forth with people. yet this does not mean i dont deeply appreciate everyone's sweet messages. means the world to me to know you all have my back like this, so thank you so much 🤍

once and for all: this is fiction. fiction, meant for adults hence the MDNI/18+ in my bio, basically plastered all over my blog.

every character ive created so far is just that. a character. and i need some of you guys to understand that this is what (fan)fiction is about. the smoking, the family trauma, the lack of self awareness, their sexual activities and coping mechanisms, everything regarding and about my characters was created by me and most of the time intentionally.

one thing that also needs to be clear is that you can't just run around policing grown people in their asks talking about such significant issues and throwing around accusations like that because not only is it deeply offensive but it's also very, very dangerous. you misunderstood my post and assumed i'd use sex and sexual intimacy to have him make up for his wrongdoings when that is NOT what i said at all. just please be careful the next time because i understand where you came from but i did not deserve that.

what i also wanna address is the part with me having "impressionable readers" because this is very important to me as a smut writer.

i have set clear boundaries that i do not want any minors on my blog, point blank. now, we all know they're still around. is that my responsibility? no. am i supposed to give a fuck about people who are apparently old enough to consciously read trigger/content warnings and continue to read my work? fuck no. is it my job to educate those impressionable people that they shouldn't read smth if they can't differentiate fiction from reality. NO.

that's all im gonna say to this because yes, there are impressionable readers out there but that is NOT my responsibility.

im tired of people constantly policing me and the things i write when im a grown woman who knows exactly what she's doing. if you hate CH!sunghoon so much and are so uncomfortable with his progress, then don't read it.

saying this for everyone yet again:

if you do NOT like a writer's work, you do NOT have to READ it.

this is tumblr. i write things for FUN. i publish them for you guys to read for FREE. i dont owe anybody shit. im so, so sorry if this makes some of you angry or upset now but at the end of the day it's the truth. this is my blog and my writing and i will do whatever the fuck i want and unfortunately you have no choice but to live with it.

i appreciate constructive criticism but i will not and never in the future let anyone be so mean to me and accuse me of things when you usually just see and read and hear what you want and make up your own version of the story when it's so, so far away from the truth.

pls do not attack the nonie bc i know this is the result of a misunderstanding but it was a good opportunity for me to address the whole impressionable reader situation.

if you can't differentiate fiction from reality that's your problem, stop making it mine.

thank you so much for everything, nothing but love 🧸🩷🎀