#I'm not going to natter I just wanted to say that one thing while I'm fixing up some new icons

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

((The fact that Ep0 ends with Danny carrying Ray deeper into the building and the fact that Ao/D ends with Zack carrying her out of the building, bye. Poetic cinema.))

[rockwgooglyeyes]

Who would be the closest people to each of your ocs (though you can actually put whoever you’d like), and why? (This is for..scientific reasons)

Hahah not suspicious at all, anon, but thank you for the question, this is really fun!

Dian is closest to Himei (@lookatmysillies), Solei (@solei-eclipse), and Nyx, I would say. Those are all people he's willing to be fully honest with- while he loves Aurien (@aurienneirua), he puts up a front of strength around her, and he is good friends with Flor/Rose (@sotogalmo & @rosedeleca), too, but those are people he enjoys doing things with and if they ever were just hanging out doing nothing, I think he would be nervous/awkward and talk a lot to fill the presumed silence. Solei and Dian have a great time hanging out and chatting and doing insane shit just because they feed off each other's warm energy and fill each other's need of being around a person but they understand a lot of each other's insecurities as well, making them something of a perfect fit! Himei just loves Dian unconditionally and doesn't mind his nattering on and his intensity, and he values her greatly for that. He's in love with Nyx so that's one is more or less self explanatory, methinks.

Nausikaa is closest to Naz and Itsaso, probably, but I'll admit, I'm not too sure about anyone else because I haven't spent as much time with her. . .

Nyx is closest to Dian, Solei, Aurien and Cas! Kyo as well but in canon, Kyo has passed away, so he doesn't really count? I think he has other friends in Tov (@ivanttakethis), Lang (@pwippy), Tallis, and Vera (@bittersweet-adagio), but those are more "I hang out with this person for a specific reason" not "I love this person and I would do anything with them" just because Nyx is quality time heavy when it comes to love languages. At the same time, he's act-of-service heavy too, which comes out with Cas/Aurien the most because of his more familial ties to them. With Solei, he mostly just gives them space to cool down and be themself without judgement and he gets to bask in their warm rays. With Dian, well, Dian is someone who challenges his worldviews about everything, which makes him keep coming back, for whatever reason.

Yumi is closest to Asahi (@apriciticreveries) because that! is! her! girlfriend! but also she's close to Jae & Evon (@kofeedoggo), Nene, Innamorati (@alien-til-i-stage), and Moran (@geospiral). Jae, Evon and Yumi have mostly a good time just hanging out and doing things of little consequence together, which Yumi is deeply grateful for. Asahi, Nene and Yumi are a silly little trio that kind of get up to shenanigans, Asahi being the voice of reason while Yumi eggs Nene on. Yumi admires Moran and is fond of her because of the general existentialism and she enjoys talking to Moran about philosophy. Innamorati is a yapper and Yumi likes him for similar reasons as Nene, they can do all the talking and she can mostly just listen and chip in occasionally. Low energy/high energy dynamic go brrr

Yumi also kind of wants to kill Yume (kellie's baby boy) with a big hammer but she wouldn't call herself close to him.

If anyone has any questions about ANY of my responses, please lmk and i will do my best to answer!! thanks again for the question, Anon!

[somerandomcryptid]

Ok so this isn't a for sure thing but I am seriously considering later down the line in Dreaming of Death have XD offer Cryptid a "boon"(quotation marks because it's XD, the boon would never be truly generous and like, you know, perfectly safe, he wouldn't give it if it's not entertaining)

But yeah, this would happen after Dream and Cryptid have that falling out I've mentioned before, the one that happens because Dream pressures Cryptid to kill Quackity and that's a line they can't cross for him and then they have a big fight

So basically in this senario XD would pop into Cryptid's heard during this -verbal- fight with Dream and try to get them to kill him (because Punz would revive Dream anyway, and he really just wants to make everyone suffer more, it's fun to watch everyone's mental state unravel)

They don't obviously. But XD just kinda decides he likes to make this child more miserable by whispering in their ear a lot. So he decides to just.. not stop.

Cryptid runs away from the artic commune (I guess I haven't really explained the whole living situation yet but I'll get to it at some point) that day after the fight, they leave no note, and tell no one, they take enough supplies to start a new life and they just run, they can't deal with any of this anymore, they can't deal with Dream's behavior, and they can't bring them self to tell anyone, so they run, they throw pearls till they run out and then they walk till the sun comes up, make camp before they pass out from exhaustion, and when they wake up in the afternoon they find a good spot nearby to make a home (That's something that's going to happen in canon regardless of if XD gets more mettly btw)

But anyway, in this idea, XD is hanging out while they do this, he's a bit disappointed that one of his favorite entertainment is refusing to play, he tries to convince them to tell Wren instead (the fight that would happen between Wren and Dream if they did would be so fun to him)

They don't. They don't cave. They know telling Wren and the Syndicate about this... They know they would support them.. but.... They can't do it. They just need to leave. But they can't leave the server, so they'll do as close to that as they can.

XD is.. annoyed, to say the least. But he can't directly punish them, they aren't his domain.

So, he offers them a "boon", I'm not sure what exactly it would be, but it's some sort of power, something destructive, he knows Cryptid is deeply empathetic. They don't truly want to hurt anyone, but sometimes... Sometimes they do really really want to break things.. they don't want to hurt anyone in any way, but they have a lot of pent up anger.

They still refuse the boon though, they don't want to be powerful, and they don't want to "fix" the server as XD puts it to entice them, they want the people on the server to work out their differences, war won't help, more hurt won't help, they can't rule with an iron fist and it actually be ok.

This just makes XD more annoyed, so he leaves them, he stops nattering in their head, they're fine with the aloneness for a day or two. But they get deeply lonely pretty quickly. They want to go back to the Syndicate, but going back to the Syndicate means going back to Dream (who is basically an unofficial member/close ally), and going back to Dream means going back to mood swings, the rules, the walking on eggshells, going back to Dream means having to look in his eyes after he asked them to kill someone, and kill someone slowly, to torture someone till their dead.

So they can't go back. But oh... they are so.. so lonely. So they do the unthinkable, they go to Sam, the one person no one would never think they'd go to.

Btw all of that beyond the XD stuff is definitely set in stone, but like, I feel like the XD stuff would add to it, but I haven't fully decided. Btw XD would probably pop up again in Cryptid's head after they go back to the smp, just to be annoying.

Look idk this is all just mush from my brain, I hope it makes sense

(Dreaming of death is an au of the wonderful fic Penpal by @calamari-minecraft-corner so keep that in mind and go read it :) )

[desceros]

Hiya;))))))))

🍄❄️🌿

(And stay hydrated 😘)

hi hi, thank you so much!! i appreciate the reminder c: also skipping the snowflake since it's answered :D

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

in round turn verse, donnie has always had a crush on you, but didn't know how to go about deal with it, so he tried to push you away by being a dick. plus, the way you natter on all the time makes it hard for him to concentrate since his brain just hooks on everything you say whether he wants it to or not, which is maddening. still, one night in the lair, he secretly recorded you laughing at one of his sarcastic jokes so hard you had to hold yourself up with the back of the couch, and it's that recording he references in the fic. every time he listens to it, it makes his stomach feel like it's going to twist out of his shell... but he loves listening to it all the same.

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

when i'm feeling blocked on a project, i'll swap to something that is, in some way, completely different, whether it's thematically, tonally, structurally, however. usually that's enough to get me out of a rut, but sometimes (especially if i haven't been writing for a while), it takes more than that. so i have a few tools in my pocket. one: go to tvtropes and hit randomize until you get three tropes that are something you could put in a fic (e.g., i just did it, and i got "tin can robot", "supernatural suffocation", and "disney death"), then see what comes out. for example, to me this is like, holy shit, perfect for a fic where donnie is experimenting with a robot, but the ninpo goes wrong and you suffocate, and he thinks you're dead but surprise you're okay, hurt comfort. boom, tvtropes did the hard part, i just connected the dots. two: find a prompt generator and roll until you have one. for example, i have one where it gives me a prompt and a character. then, i just write whatever that scene is, and--and this is VERY important--i keep it in my personal folders, but i don't post it OR delete it. i don't post it, which gets rid of aaaaaaall the stress of it needing to be "good." who cares?! no one is gonna see it but me! it's DONE and that's what matters. but also, i don't delete it, because eeevery once in a while, i go back and read them. are they any good? some of them are. some of them are terrible! but in all of them, i see things i would change to make them better. and THAT means that i am a BETTER WRITER. and nothing motivates you better than progress, which you can only see if you have old material of yours to compare to new material. three: just take a break! sometimes the creative juices aren't happening, and that's okay. go do something else. rewatch the show that you want to write fanfic for. go listen to the song that inspired it again. go click through the blog of the person whom you look up to. take a day. take two. take as many as you need. will you be rusty if you come back after a long time? of course. but know that you can Always come back to it, no matter how much time has passed. and don't forget, you don't have to post anything you write. if it sucks, keep it to yourself! who's gonna know?

[kookaburra1701]

Hi KBfriend <3

Excuse me marching in here unannounced. I decided to send some asks, and well, I thought that perhaps you might also like these questions. (Feel free to answer in your own time or ignore as your spoons allow. <3)

I know we love to talk about breaking the rules in writing and obviously, that not every piece of advice is one-size-fits all, but there is a lot to say about being able to speak with each other about what we have learned during our journey. I was wondering if you wouldn't share. (I also plan on poking some of the others to see what more we can shake out. The more the merrier, no?)

What is the most useful/helpful pieces of advice you ever received during your formal education in relation to writing?

Once you started to write, what was the most important thing that you learned about writing or its process?

Has your real life/job had any influence on your writing? If so, how?

What advice would you give to aspiring writers (be it fanfiction or original)?

Hi friend! Thank you for these asks. I will never turn down an opportunity to natter on about things, my inbox is always open!

It took me awhile to think of one, because the vast majority of my formal writing education was for nonfiction and the little bit of creative writing we were assigned was generally poetry and I HATED poetry as a kid. BUT. I distinctly remember one of my middle school English teacher saying that the worst thing our writing could be wasn't being "bad" (whether technically or narratively) The worst thing our writing could be was boring. I remember her saying she'd rather read 100 bad stories that were interesting, or at least where the author's passion shone through, than one "good" story where nothing interesting happened or the author clearly was just checking boxes about what should happen in a narrative arc. She would forget a good-but-boring story immediately while every terrible-but-interesting-and-passionate story was very unique and memorable. This leads into my answer for question 2...

When I started writing fanfic on FFN waaaaay back in 2002, I realized that some people were going to hate what I wrote no matter what - after all, I hated some perfectly fine fics for reasons that had nothing to do with their quality. The people who wanted to read the things I was writing would find me, and they did! I still have friends from way back then, even though we've all moved on to other fandoms and hobbies. So yeah, that was what I learned - fuck the haters, write EXACTLY what you want, your people will find you. It was heady stuff for someone who was always That Nerdy Weird Horse Girl in school.

Oh yeah. I was a paramedic for almost a decade. I'm now a biologist in a medical pathology department. I definitely use my knowledge of A&P and quite a bit of the trauma I witnessed and ended up being subjected to as part of the USian For Profit Healthcare system. Also, it wasn't ever my actual job (unless you count the under the table farm labor I did for a goat dairy in college) but growing up in a rural farming community and around animals has given me a big interest in the history of agriculture, and I love writing about people doing subsistence farming.

My advice builds off of my answers to 1 & 2. Don't put things in your story or write stories out of a sense of duty. Don't censor yourself because you think it might be "too much" or "turn away readers." Write (and draw and create) what you want with your whole chest. I have devoured fics that were barely readable due to atrocious grammar and spelling about characters I didn't even really like with a premise I thought was stupid and pointless because the author made it interesting, and a big part of making it interesting despite the shortcomings was how much the passion they had poured into it came through, and that they were clearly having a blast the entire time they were writing/channeling their id. This is related to something that kills me when I see it on fanfiction discussion communities especially about fics with explicit sexual content - people snickering about how obvious it is that "the author had their hands down their pants while writing this." MORE HANDS-DOWN-PANTS SMUT I SAY. NO SHAME. So I guess that's my advice. NO SHAME. Want to write the filthiest, most ✨problematic✨ smut ever? NO SHAME, WRITE THAT PORN. Want to tenderly describe every step of the main villain disemboweling a unicorn? NO SHAME, SHOW ME THAT SPARKLE BLOOD. Want to write yourself as the Maryiest Sue who ever Mary Sue'd having fun in the fictional world of your choice? NO SHAME, YOU 👏GO👏GLEN👏COCO! Life is short, and late stage capitalism robs us of joy every chance it gets. Don't rob yourself of joy.

[askinkiskarma]

ok so this is kind of a rant so you don6have to reply but i just wanted to tell someone this.

i feel so horrible. like im failing at life. it doesn't natter how hard i try, i never reach my goals. and I'm not able to manage ANYTHING. I've no idea what to do in the future or even what im doing now. even my brother said im failing at life and ik he was joking but honestly i am. i don't know what's wrong with me

baby, i'm so sorry you feel this way, and i know how you feel 100% and i know that maybe me saying this might not mean much, but please know that everyone feels like this. most people, even the most confident, accomplished ones you meet, they all feel/have felt like this in their respective lives, and unfortunately, it's just one of the many ways our own minds try to sabotage us.

i can't speak to your own circumstances, obviously, but i can speak to my own. i spent years of my life working my ass off, more than anyone else I knew, to get into medical school - i had wanted to be a surgeon since i was 15, and it was the only thing i wanted, i wanted it so badly, i was willing to sacrifice my whole life to succeed, and i did for a long while. I was sure I would get in, I mean i worked so so hard, right? But I didn't. I didn't manage to get in bc of oNE wrong answer out of 50. And most of my friends did, and now they're medics. And it killed me, I was so depressed, I thought I was weak and not good enough and that I failed at life, and failed my younger self, and failed my future. I left for the UK ashamed of myself bc I had failed where others hadn't, spent a lot of my undergraduate not knowing what I wanted, bouncing between again the idea of med school and all sorts of other things, including law, because i was lost, but I learnt there's beauty in being lost. There's beauty in not knowing, and not having your whole life planned out. It was only in my second semester of my 3rd year of uni that i decided on cancer research, and honestly? i still don't know what i'm going to do after my phd, but I am sooo happy with where life took me, and where I am now. I no longer have plans or a solid idea of what my future should look like - i just wait and see where life takes me. And so should you.

Me and my friends who do phds have a saying (because we fail ALL THE TIME, AT EVERYTHING) : we haven't failed; we're optimising the protocol. That's you. You haven't failed. You're just optimising! I promise life has a funny way of working out. If you keep doing your best, and giving it your all, eventually you'll find the things that bring you joy, and that you're good at, and the future will start looking a bit clearer with each attempt. Life is just a long optimisation procedure, and there's no easy way out of it, you just have to learn to embrace the journey x

I hope this helped in anyway. Pls don't listen to people who have no idea what they're talking about, who want to bring you down - it speaks to their own issues a lot more than any of your own. You're beautiful and special and unique and you're the only you out there x ily and smooches x

[blindmagdalena]

Hi! You write tender Homelander so well!! I’m living for these headcanons. Could you (if you want to of course) write a fic with a tender insecure Homelander in a new committed relationship where reader has to reassure him how she feels and he tells how he feels?

Most days, it doesn't feel real.

Homelander didn't know what you were going to mean to him when he met you. In fact, he's not sure that he ever stops realizing it. Like a wound that grows wider over time, his love for you feels a living, bleeding thing. He's never had such an open, aching vulnerability before, much less one that exists so outside of him.

For all the comfort that you bring, so too does this bliss terrify him. The deeper he falls, the closer the bottom of this well begins to feel. It would shatter him to hit that end, and realize that you have nothing left to give him.

It pushes him to seek out evidence anywhere he can that the well of you still overflows for him. Now that you've committed yourself to him, and him to you, he craves more than ever diligent assurance of your love.

One morning, you wake to him sitting up on his side next to you, watching you slumber. He looks as though he's been awake for a while, the sleep long gone from his eyes. His brows are slightly furrowed, so you reach up to smooth the line of them with your thumb, smiling sleepily yourself.

"Good morning," you greet, a slight fry to your voice.

Homelander—John to you, especially in these intimate moments—closes his eyes and cups your hand to his cheek, pushing into it. "What were you dreaming about?" He asks, cracking his eyes to look at you sidelong.

You hum, thinking about it. The visions are already a blurry, distant thing. Abstract. The more you try to remember them, the less you're able to hold onto them. "I don't really remember."

He frowns. Clearly not the answer he was looking for. "Do you dream about me?"

Sensing an odd tension in the air, you roll onto your side and prop yourself up, more actively clearing that languid morning haze from your mind. "Yes, sometimes. Is something wrong?"

"No," he says, but there's a defensive edge to it that alerts you to the fact that yes, there very much is something wrong.

"John," you coo, putting a hand on his bare shoulder, rubbing soothing lines up and down his arm. "It's just us. Tell me what's going on."

You watch the line of his lips tighten, pressing into a firm line. He exhales a mirthless half-laugh to the side, glancing away from you before he looks back. "I just want... I need to know that... You're here for good," he says. It almost looks painful for him to say with the way his jaw locks up. "That you won't leave me t—" he cuts himself there, but you hear it. That you won't leave me, too.

Understanding dawns, and you recline onto your back once more, opening your arms to him. "Come here," you invite him. He complies readily, descending into your open arms, curling his own around you tight. He nuzzles his cheek against your collarbone, sighing as you wrap your arms around him.

"I love you, John. More than there are words to say it," you tell him, stroking your hand through his hair, the other down his back. You wonder how long he's been watching you sleep, agonizing over the idea that your time in the realm of dreams, away from him, was somehow eroding your love for him. "I'm not going anywhere."

He exhales heavily against you, grip tightening slightly before he relaxes. Your voice alone has such power over him, drowning out the ones in his mind. You could tell him to level a city, and he would do it in a heartbeat, though he knows you won't. You are something good, the closest thing to perfect someone like you can be to someone like him. So far above the worthless crowds of nattering nobodies. 

You are his beacon.

"I need you," he admits, sounding softer than you've ever heard him. "I need you to need me, too."

"I do," you assure him. "Now that I know you, I don't know what I'd do without you. For the first time in my life, I feel safe. Truly safe. Loved. No one has ever made me feel so... whole."

He looks up at you at that, expression vulnerable, and in his eyes you can see a spark of realization, like he's just put the last piece of the puzzle together. "Whole," he echoes. "Yeah..."

It's as though it hadn't occurred to him that his consumption of your love fed you just as much. That he was not only taking from you, but fulfilling a need in you just the same.

You smile, leaning in to press your lips to his. He answers the kiss with hunger, as he always does, as if he can never get enough of you. You're beginning to really understand how true that is. Homelander's aching need for your love may be bottomless, but so too is your capacity for it. The two of you have formed an endless loop, feeding into one another in ways no other partner has been able to.

"I love you," he says, quiet and fervent.

"I love you more," you answer playfully.

You feel him grin against your lips. Now that you've made it a contest, he'll be on you all day to prove you wrong. Or right, depending on how you look at it. All that matters is that the loop never ends.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Three // Wanda Maximoff

chapter two | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter four

author’s note: i have nothing to say except enjoy!

Chewing on my bottom lip, I looked over the shelves at the different kinds of stationary the shop had to offer. I needed a new notebook and some ink since I'd ran low at home, so I decided to come into town to have a look.

A brown leather-bound notebook caught my eye and I picked it up, flicking through the pages. Sadly, they were too thin for my liking, so I replaced it and kept looking.

Moments like this were one of the few luxuries I had to myself, where my mother wasn't nattering in my ear about finding a husband and learning to do something useful other than writing, or where my brother wasn't overshadowing me in everything he did, making me feel even worse about myself. No, moments like this, I could just be.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

And there goes my moment.

Plastering a smile on my lips, I spun around and was surprised to see Wanda approaching me with an equally surprised expression on her face. She really was everywhere, wasn't she?

"Wanda, hello," I greeted as she stopped by my side. "It's good to see you."

She looked good, considering I hadn't seen her for a few days. Maybe once when she'd popped in to say hello to everybody before her date with my brother, but that was hardly a meeting. Now, she looked cheery, eyes sparkling with their usual excitement.

"You, too," she said softly, a smile creeping on her lips. Her eyes fell to my hands, where I was holding some ink. "Don't you have servants to do that for you?"

"Don't you have servants to do that for you?" I countered lightheartedly, eyes flickering to the vast amount of paintbrushes and paint in her arms.

She narrowed her eyes in a playful manner. "Touché."

Rolling my eyes in good nature, I asked, "So, what made you decide to go shopping?"

"I needed some new supplies," she quipped with an adorable smile, lifting her arms which were filled with said supplies.

"And you didn't think a basket would help?" I joked, before turning to grab a stray basket beside the shelves and helping her to put everything in it.

She chuckled, accepting my help, and answered, "Truthfully, I only came for the paint, but then I saw some new brushes I wanted to try, and then there were some new colours in stock and, well, before I knew it–"

"This happened," I finished for her with amusement, handing her the filled basket.

She took the basket from my hands and nodded. "Exactly. I would have sent my servant to get the paint, but last time I did, she came back with the wrong one."

"Oh, the scandal," I teased.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and it was refreshing to see the shoe on the other foot. I guess I could see the fun in it now – no wonder she teased me often. Plus, she looked cute when she was caught off guard.

"What about you?" she countered, attempting to take the attention off her.

Content smile on my lips, I watched her. "What about me?"

She gave me an isn't it obvious? look. "I told you why I was here. What about you?"

I shrugged, looking back to the shelves. "I just needed some things... and I may or may not get excited when buying stationary."

Her melodious laughter filled the air. "Of course."

"I just don't know which to get," I told her, motioning to the notebooks. "There's so many options!"

She hummed with amusement, stepping by my side closely and reaching out to get a better look. I was acutely aware of her shoulder pressed to mine and tried to stop thinking about it, but obviously, once I told myself to stop thinking about it, it was all I could think about.

"How about this one?" she suggested, picking up a notebook wrapped in a burgundy-coloured sleeve. She was probably biased since it was her favourite colour.

I took it from her grasp as she held it towards me, feeling tingles at the tips of my fingers when they grazed her hand. God, I needed to get a grip.

Before I could look at the notebook properly, I noticed a smudge on her hand, subconsciously grabbing it before she pulled away. Flipping it over so I could see her palm, I saw several smudges of colour and stared with confusion.

"Paint," she explained, mildly embarrassed as she pulled away. "The stuff goes everywhere."

I hid a smile, finding it cute, before looking to the notebook again.

"I like it, but now to see the pages," I said, flipping through them to see if they were thick enough. I hated getting a notebook with flimsy pages that ink seeped through.

"Are they to your liking, your majesty?" she teased, and I looked up to see her tilting her head and watching me through her eyelashes.

"Yes, they are actually," I retorted with a childish glare, before closing it. "Thanks."

She half-suppressed a laugh. "Good. Let's hope it gives you some... vdokhnoveniye."

She paused, scrunching her nose in thought, probably searching for the right word in English. I was too distracted by how enchanting she looked when she did that to care about her struggle to find the word.

"Vdokhnoveniye is like inspiration," she explained, eyes looking back to me after staring up in thought, "but it's something better. It's from the word vdykhat', meaning to breathe."

"So, you want me to get a good breath from this?" I asked, quirking a brow with bemusement.

"No! No." She laughed, running a hand through her curls. "It's like... when you get inspired by something so quickly, as quickly as it takes to take in a breath. Never mind, it's stupid."

"It's not," I reassured her with an appreciative look. "I get it. Thanks. I like that. Russian is definitely a fascinating language."

She seemed glad that I made sense of her ramblings and I smiled, realising there was much more to Wanda than her ability to make me a stumbling mess.

"Have you got everything?" I asked her, glancing to her basket, before quickly adding, "What am I saying? Of course you've got everything. Practically half the store is in there."

She shoved me gently. "Not nice. But yes, I have everything."

I refrained from chuckling at her dismay before leading the way to the till so we could pay. As we took turns, the cashier made conversation with both of us. I knew of him because I'd been here enough times to make a friend, but I was surprised to see Wanda was the same. I was certain I'd never seen her here before. And I'd been here a lot.

When we finished paying, we began to head outside and I decided to speak my thoughts.

"You know, it's strange to think that we've both been coming here for a while and yet we've never crossed paths," I noted. "I mean, unless we have and just didn't know who each other were then."

She shook her head casually. "Oh, no, we haven't crossed paths. I'd definitely remember a pretty face like yours."

I paused, bewildered at her words as they took time to sink in. She seemed to notice as she laughed, holding the door to the shop open for me. I walked outside and she followed after me, eyes glancing at me satisfactorily.

"So, er, what are you doing now?" I changed the subject, recovering from my momentary shock.

She settled with a smile as she answered, "I'm in the middle of adding some finishing touches to a painting I'm working on. I'll probably head back to finish it."

"Ah, the paintings that you talk about but I've never seen," I joked, relaxing under her stare. "I'm starting to believe you're lying to me, love."

She rolled her eyes, though her smile widened, revealing a dimple by the corner of her mouth. "I'm not... You can come with me if you'd like. I don't mind showing you." When her eyes met mine, she quickly added, "If you're not busy, that is."

Humour disappearing, I nodded with surprise. "Sure. I'd love to."

And that wasn't a lie. I was curious to see the Sokovian's work since she seemed to enjoy talking about art so much. Plus, I could appreciate some good art when I needed to and I wondered if hers would fit the bill.

Or at least that's what I told myself when she flashed her dazzling smile my way, making my heart explode with adoration.

—

Just like me, Wanda didn't have a dedicated place to work from because her parents didn't deem her passion an appropriate hobby for a young woman in today's day and age. So, just like I did, she worked in her room and made the most of the space she had.

As soon as we took a step inside, I was amazed by how much stuff there was. Of course there was the expected – a bed, an ottoman, a wardrobe and a desk – but it was as if that was all secondary furniture to the main focus.

Closest to the giant window on the opposite end of the room were several canvases being supported by easels, some painted and some blank. Papers with sketches of literally anything you can think of were taped to the walls, some scattered along the floor and some scrunched up entirely, missing the bin.

Her desk was filled with jars of paintbrushes, oils, pencils, chalk and any other art supply I'd probably never heard nor seen of before. The place was messy, but not dirty. Her bed was made, the sheets as crisp as could be, her books were lined up neatly, her paintbrushes all had a perfect spot. It was clean, but it was a giant mess, and it was the most beautiful mess I'd ever seen. I refused to believe art was merely a hobby for her when it seemed like her room was dedicated to it.

"This is your room?" I asked with disbelief, eyebrows raised.

Clearly mistaking my amazement for critique, she dumped her newly purchased art supplies on her bed before rushing to pick up some loose papers and canvases from the floor.

"Yes," she squeaked, attempting to kick some papers under her bed as she straightened up sheepishly. "Sorry for the mess. Believe it or not, it does follow a system."

I laughed wholeheartedly, heading further into the space to where her makeshift studio was. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. This place is amazing."

She snickered, glancing around at everything. "You think? I'd love something more – a real studio – but of course, women aren't supposed to have hobbies apart from pleasing their husband and hosting dinners every other week."

The last part she said with a hint of bitterness, clearly repeating what she'd been told before, no doubt by her parents. I was surprised by her vulgarity, but I wasn't in disagreement. She was absolutely right and it was such a shame because women were so much more than their husband. Too bad society would never see that.

"My father only allows me this... sanctuary," she finished with a sigh, before her hand rested on her desk. "It's not much, but at least it's mine."

"Well, I love it," I told her honestly, making her smile as she looked my way. "Can I look around?"

She waved her hand. "Of course. Nothing's off limits,  but do be generous. My ego is easily bruised."

I chuckled at her joke and she flashed me another smile before grabbing her neglected art supplies. As I helped myself to looking around at her work, I heard her rustling around behind me and glanced her way, seeing her making herself comfortable on a stool before a particular canvas. I presumed it was the piece she was working on that she mentioned earlier and got back to my browsing.

She was extremely talented, not that I had any doubts to be honest. There were her bigger pieces, the extremely detailed ones, that she'd painted of grassy landscapes. Some were green full trees with falling leaves, some were cherry blossom trees with pink blossoms floating in the air, some were buildings overgrown with mother nature. I recognised none of them, but they transported me elsewhere like a nostalgic reminder of being a kid and playing in the garden with my mum. Even now, I helped her do the gardenening, but I'd never really appreciated my surroundings until I saw Wanda's work.

And those were just the huge pieces. She'd done sketches that were taped to the wall, to her desk, floating out of sketchbooks. Some were plans for bigger pieces, others were daily observations, all of her surroundings. She didn't draw people, I noticed, it was mainly scenery. But it was all stunning and it brought a smile to my lips as I imagined her producing all of this in her own little sanctuary, as she called it.

"You've been quiet for too long," she called out jokingly, after a while of me perusing her sketchbooks.

I looked up from my seat at her desk, seeing her focused on her painting, but an amused smile ghosted her lips. The sunlight from the window was hitting her perfectly at the moment, and even from where I was sat, I could see the flecks of gold shimmering in her eyes, matching the auburn streaks in her hair. The breath got knocked out of me momentarily, and I almost forgot that she'd said something.

Clearing my throat, I returned her smile. "I'm admiring your work, Wanda. You're bloody talented."

She lowered her paintbrush and gave me an incredulous look. "Tell me what you really think, Y/N."

I grinned, laughing slightly. "I am! I genuinely think this is amazing."

She pressed her lips together, still reluctant to believe me, but she nodded gratefully and returned her attention to her painting. I didn't fail to notice the pink spreading across her cheeks at the compliment, and my heart fluttered at the sight.

"Would you ever sell any of these?" I asked her, standing up and approaching her side to see what she was working on.

I noticed the addition of stray paint that had made its way to her hands and forearms and it made me smile. I don't even think she realised it was there.

She scrunched her nose up at the idea. "I've given some away to family friends because my parents made me. But no, I don't think I'd sell them." Something seemed to make her snort with amusement, then she said, "Nobody would buy them anyway."

I frowned as she sighed, her shoulders sagging at the thought. It was horrible to admit, but she was right. Female authors – questionable, but sure, they existed. Female painters? Let's just say that it was easier to be successful if you worked under a pseudonym and pretended to be a man. Which she clearly wouldn't do, or at least her parents wouldn't allow her to do. Sadly, Wanda Maximoff was in the wrong lifetime.

Hoping to cheer her up, I stood by her side and admired the strokes she made with her paintbrush. "If it's any consolation, if we were in another lifetime where I actually made money, I'd buy them."

She glanced at me, partially disbelieving my words, partially intrigued. "Seriously?"

I nodded with certainty, eyes flickering between hers and her painting. "Seriously. All of them. I'd buy every single one."

She looked away, swallowing hard, then a soft, barely noticeable smile appeared on her lips, and I was glad I'd said the right thing.

Focusing my attention on the painting again, I saw it was a stunning view of a stream, and the way she'd painted it made it seem like it was flowing off the canvas. Her last minute touches, adding white flecks of oil paint on the water, managed to bring the piece to life without any effort. I was amazed at how someone could make nothing turn into something so easily.

"Where is this?" I asked curiously, not recognising the scene, and also wondering where she'd gone for the inspiration since we lived in a busy town that didn't have water sources nearby.

She pointed to her head with the end of her paintbrush. "Up here."

"You made this up?" I asked, surprised for the millionth time since arriving.

"Uh-huh." She tilted her head to study the piece, whilst saying, "I usually paint what's in the garden. Sometimes what I see in town is good, too. But I really wanted to paint water, and apart from the constant rain we get, there is none. So, I made it up."

I was impressed at her ability to make up something like this, but also slightly confused. "Why don't you just visit Blackpool? There's a beach – water, sand, pier, everything. And it's not too far from here. You could make it a day trip."

She shrugged, distracting herself with dipping her brush on her palette. "I don't want to go by myself."

I probably should have recommended she visit with my brother. You know, the man she was engaged to? But my eagerness got the better of me, and I ended up saying, "Maybe we could go together. If you want."

She looked up, a slow smile forming on her lips. "I'd like that."

I mirrored her expression, nodding slightly. "Great. I'm sure we can arrange something. Promise."

She held my gaze for a second longer, saying, "I'll hold you to that, milaya," before looking back to her painting.

"What does that mean?" I asked suddenly, my mind clearly not controlling my words today. "You keep calling me it."

She chuckled, leaning forward to get a closer look at her work with her paintbrush. "Darling."

"Pardon?"

She shook her head, glancing at me with amusement. "No, Y/N. It means darling."

I swallowed awkwardly, certain my cheeks were as red as they felt warm. I wasn't sure what was more embarrassing – that I'd responded to her calling me darling when she hadn't, or that she'd been calling it me this whole time without me knowing. "Oh."

"Pull up a stool," she changed the subject, though my mind was still racing at her revelation. Had she called Y/B/N that? I couldn't recall. "I'll show you how to paint a little if you want."

Dazed, I did as she said whilst chewing on my lip with thought. She watched me, grinning from ear to ear, but said nothing. Was it normal for my heart to flip-flop in my chest like it was? I couldn't tell anymore. And when she grabbed my hand without saying anything, my hand felt like it was on fire with her touch.

The tip of her paintbrush swiped against my inner palm, her soft fingertips holding it up. Every area that her finger touched was burning, sending tingles up my arm and leaving me paralysed. Good thing I was sat down.

"There," she said like it was obvious. "Now you're an artist."

Blue eyes met mine excitedly and I gave her a small smile in return, hoping that these strange thoughts and reactions would disappear soon enough. Because this was definitely not appropriate.

—

My dreams were never anything worthwhile.

For someone who had a creative mind and could string sentences together to create a story I was proud of, my subconscious was the opposite. It was dry and boring and I rarely remembered my dreams unless they were scary enough to wake me up. But this time, this was a dream I was certain I'd never forget...

As with all dreams, I was unable to control what was happening. I was myself, observing from a first person point of view like it was real, but I had no control over my words or actions. Everything was predetermined, like a script I was forced to follow.

So, in this particular dream, I was sat in the back of a carriage, wearing a dress that was fancier than my usual taste. One hand was clutching my purse and the other was in someone else's hand, the person playing with my fingers soothingly.

"We're stopping now. Are you ready?"

It was Wanda. I had no idea why she was in my dream, or why she was leaning into my side comfortably, or why she was playing with my fingers like she did it all the time. I just knew that it shouldn't have been happening.

"Yeah, c'mon," I said with a smile, following my dream's script.

I intertwined our fingers and raised them to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. She smiled with adoration and allowed me to lead her out the carriage quickly. We were at the theatre and the first thing I thought was that my mind was creating a date similar to the one she shared with my brother. Oh, God, this wasn't good.

"Promise you've got the tickets?" she asked as we walked inside, hand in hand.

In my dream, nobody around us seemed to care that we were together, that we were two women showing affection and simply existing in a way more than friends. As wrong as I knew it was to dream of my soon-to-be sister-in-law like this, my mind was at peace, knowing I could be myself in my dream state. I didn't have to hide my identity and it was liberating.

"No, I decided to leave them at home," I answered her sarcastically, smiling.

She squeezed my hand and tugged me close, stopping me from walking any further. Her face scrunched together with a feigned annoyance.

"You don't need to be mean," she mumbled, eyes peering into mine, and my heart raced at the contact of her body pressed to mine.

Grinning, I pressed a kiss to her nose. "I've got them right here, love. Now let's go before we're late."

The dream didn't have a clear transformation. I just knew that one second I was staring at Wanda and the next I was sat beside her in the theatre, waiting for the lights to go down.

"Here," I said, passing her the programme for the show that was in my hand.

When I looked down at it, I was surprised to see a wedding ring on my left hand. Huh.

The lights dimmed when Wanda looked my way, green eyes bright in the dark. She shrugged, grabbing the programme and tossing it over her shoulder to the (thankfully) empty seat next to her.

"Looks like I missed my chance," she said, referring to the lack of light.

I opened my mouth to counter her words, but she didn't give me chance to as she pressed her lips to mine, hand raising to hold the back of my neck and pull me closer. Real me was freaking out, wondering why the hell I was allowing myself to have such thoughts about the girl who was going to marry my brother. And dream me was melting into her touch, shivering at her warmth and the way she began to suck my bottom lip.

"Wanda," I breathed out, pulling away breathlessly, but she continued to hold me close with a stifled grin.

"Isn't that why we got these tickets?" she said jokingly, eyes meeting mine.

My heart raced as she did, the simplest of glances making me weak in the knees. I was beginning to learn that her eyes were irresistibly beautiful.

"Right," I found my words, smiling in agreement as my eyes flickered to her lips.

They were painted red tonight, slightly smudged from the abrupt kiss she gave me, and I could only imagine the state of my own lips.

"We can watch the play now," she whispered, and I just about managed to tear my gaze from her lips to see the entertained look in her eyes.

I hummed in response, not trusting myself to say something comprehensible. Her lips curved into a smile and she linked our arms before settling into her seat, head leaning on my shoulder. I leaned mine on top, kissing the top of her head gently before also getting comfortable.

When I woke up, I didn't remember the rest of the dream, or know if there was a rest of the dream. I opened my eyes and found myself laying in my bed alone, tired and in the dark. It was still nighttime and my mind was foggy with fatigue. It took a moment for me to remember what I'd just dreamed. And then it hit me.

I liked my brother's fiancé.

[murdering-time]

(// true! I do get that- shipping is nice and all, especially when you get down to the character development and relationships and stuff, but what about the ones that want to do something general?? Without it being overwhelming including so many people at one time?

Also mun, you say ramble like that's a threatening promise but I promise you I would watch the absolute shit out of a video essay on jervis tetch- just can't promise it'll be in one setting, since adhd and attention span go brr)

-- ☎️

// I'm keeping this post to write the thoughts on. //

Annotated by Dictaphone

I am going to ramble about Jervis Tetch because I need to get this essay done. I'm so glad I have typed his name in so much that my phone fucking recognizes his name, great, this makes it so much easier, let me get the post up really quickly, I have it saved somewhere in my drafts but there are a lot of thoughts about Jervis that I have have and I shall - I shall voice those -- I shall voice these opinions.

hold on ok where do I want to start...

So the ask post says "mun you say ramble like that's a threatening promise but I would watch the absolute shit out of a video essay on Jervis Tetch, can't promise it will be in one sitting since ADHD and attention span that"

Still I'm going to get my WordPress up really quickly because I've written most of this already ... I don't need to login in, do I not have my phone... I don't... is it -- excuse me

No you know what - I was going to talk - I was going to talk while I get this loaded so the thing I really like about Jervis is that there's a lot.

There's a lot. There are so many qualities to him and things that I want to touch upon; his obsessive nature; the clear mental illness coding; and just I guess if he could be saved in general... so to start with would be the hyperfixations and The Obsession

I don't know how to do like enter so I'm just going to rattle it off so when was -- this is purely the Animated Series for the record and just because that's the one I'm most familiar with -- so this will likely be a ramble that I natter on and on and on about; I can make it more coherent at some point when I read it

Judge and jury; analysing Jervis tetch

a dive into the portrayal of decline within Batman

and it really is just like - that's another thing I want to touch on Alice, the Decline, and just him in general, so I basically started to say it's like -

it is a common statement among many DC fans to say that Batman does more harm than good; whether this is to Gotham, the people of it, or those who become his nemesis. the Animated Series even goes so far as to hold a mock trial for the bat himself; however this small piece won't be diverge further than the episode mentioned as "mad as a hatter"

I will reference some of the other episode but it is - it is good to keep it to "mad as a hatter" as enough. after all if we want to see if Bats really did cause Jervis' downfall then his precipice must be identified either before or during his first interaction with batman himself, and depending on that, whether or not Tetch could have been redeemed and when so.

The first introduction to our Mad Hatter is seemingly a regular rendition of a scientist exstatic over his device and having finished the project with outstanding results, already someone to sympathise with, he's achieved a goal and something clearly he's been discouraged to do if not definitely mocked for by the debunking naysayers within his community.

As "they all laughed" when he proposed the thesis, already it is clear that the man will go out of his way to achieve his goals and to gather definite results and prove to himself that he's worth something within his field and the company.

The underlying issue is, of course, self confidence...and where the desire to succeed comes from, taking note of the fact that his goal was to control creatures to act "more civilized". But even then, he goes as far as to state he could "control anything". This need for manipulation is clearly where Mr. Tetch's downfall begins.

Within 5 minutes into the 20-minute episode roughly quarter of the way through we're shown that service has the ability to be reasonable if not a mild mannered man

yeah it is clear that he suffers from some form of social anxiety as it is Made clear in his introduction.

it is apparent when talking to to Kate's he clearly has some form of hierarchical understanding of the company aware that Cates sits above him and Bruce sits above her. it is to Tetch's understanding that he must be accepted by his peers to be respected, his work done with the rats shows a clear understanding of not on neurological prowess but also a technological strength in that he has worked on his own circuitry and that he has developed his own programming and -- and Concepts for mind control

It is that we are introduced to Alice but we are also introduced through -- through subtlety and -- and background Cues that Jervis has an obsessive personality. So the episode itself is called "mad as a hatter", we are then introduced to Jervis tetch immediately after we see he in the background has an Alice in Wonderland poster.

It is never drawn upon though it is upon meeting the character Alice that we see this is where the focus of the episode will go and knowing that he is "mad as a hatter" we can only assume that this is where his downfall begins.

Prior to his downfall, it is established that Alice and him have a close relationship because she treats him as a human being; he goes on to say that she's the only one to really understand him and it is at that point that Alice says that she was lucky to have a man like him in her life alongside her partner who has not yet been introduced --introduced in a sentence in that we are made aware of the fact that she has a relationship. we are experiencing the shock alongside Jervis

Except in our case the shock is not so much we are hurt, it is more so we were led to believe that with Alice he is very very clearly smitten and very clearly socially anxious. We were to believe that either this would be that he is Hatter and she is his Alice, or that this story would be more likely his downfall over Alice.

It is interesting to note that in the original text for Alice in Wonderland she was uninvited to the tea party and that Jervis is the uninvited party in this episode... it is unusual connection to make but it is also something worth noting almost as if the to the two texts are foils to each other or rather the two medias are foils to each other; so where as the Mad Hatter was already mad in Wonderland we get to see Jervis go mad, and as Alice was uninvited in Wonderland we see Jervis as the uninvited party.

Whether the writer's intended this or not, Jervis is very clearly coded in a certain way -- he is very clearly coded to have some form of mental illness -- most like other roagues. Whether this is because of the 90s being the 90s, or because the writer's wanted them to be mentally ill and and create a tragedy from that --

See I think Edward would be the best example referring to Riddlers reform where we see him have a breakdown. it is a tragedy in a bitter sense. You can see this brilliant wonderful man who has a mind worth bragging about go down a root of his own self-fulfilling prophecy of a complete meltdown.

That's another thing for another day

So within the analysis we can see that his obsessive nature towards this presence is derived from the fact that he's obsessed with Alice in Wonderland. I do not believe that he was obsessed with Alice because of who she is I believe he was obsessed with her because she was caring to him and because her name is Alice.

It stems from the work that he's obsessed with, because it is to with something that he cares about and she has treated him kindly in an environment where he's been ostracised and socially neglected due to his mental health, and the way he acts, and his obsessive nature, and his completely ridiculous scientific reports that he divulges in. So when she treats him kindly, and the fact that her name is Alice just completes the the prime example of whatever he's looking for; kindness, sympathy, and better yet something wonderland.

Even when it's his private studies with the mice that replicates Wonderland because you can see the dormouse having tea so all throughout everything Jervis does it's motivated by Wonderland in some sense.

You see him grow from that anxious man when first meeting Bruce and then he grows agitated at Kate's -- I believe I need to refresh myself with the episode so I usually know it fairly well -- I usually know it word for word --

So he grows agitated upon hearing that Alice has a partner because he -- he already thinks that he deserves her because he sees himself too consciously as the Hatter -- he thinks that Alice is part of his world, not part of Billy's world, not that he knows who Billy is right now.

So it's at that point already that I truly think he is beyond saving. The fact that he or rather -- you know that's where we see the downfall truly start -- I don't think batman had anything to do with it, but I do think that Jervis not getting the help he required made or not even being able to recognise that he ostracize himself and isolates himself to a point of obsessive Madness, I think the fact that wasn't brought up is definitely not great. I think at that point, this is -- we were -- we see the start of the downfall as the rest of the episode plays out but it's definitely that Turning Point where he sees himself entitled to Alice.

Through the anger of her already having a partner that he basically Dons the Hatter Namesake.

I think through his obsession and through his isolation he -- he has his downfall and it's a lot of the rogues that do this to themselves almost in the sense that they are truly helpless to the way that their minds think.

Which makes sense because a lot of them are coded to be mentally ill I think the only person so far that I've gotten up to --I've gotten up Clock King -- no that's not true I've got a past that, I've gotten up to fear of Victory -- but through -- through watching the episodes the only person I have no remorse for in the animated series is the first iteration of crane because the first iteration of Crane was merciless -- he was merciless and it was painful to watch How Little remorse he had and -- and his motivation was spite so I-- I can't empathize with the animated Crane at all nothing -- I can't -- I cannot emphasise with the "nothing to fear" crane at all -- but it's interesting to compare them all against each other.

Scientists you can compare-- each scientist against each other especially scientists with an obsessive drive.

We completely and directly compare and contrast Jervis and Kirk, both the scientist with an obsessive drive, both the scientists who go out of their way to understand their obsession, and -- and both have research fuelled by obsession. Kirk has his bats Jervis is Wonderland.

So you have on one hand Kirk langstrom who is literally sacrificing his body and himself to his work, and on the other hand you have Mad Hatter who's sacrificing the people around him and it is interesting to note that Kirk is socialised and has a wife where as Jervis is completely isolated on his own.

It almost begs to-- to say that the people around you help you become who you are or at least in rogue senses... so Kirk you know his wife helps him in the end if I remember correctly and Jervis just doesn't because Kirk has that support but Jervis does not have that support at all so he becomes Maddened

It's more of a tragedy because you see it have an effect on him and those around him. Jervis has no support system at all and it's just-- it's just that notion of -- you know -- if you are supported you will still you know -- you -- you are still susceptible to Villainy but there is a way to help because instead of going to Arkham I believe Kirk is given a cure so there's this Direct comparison between the two of them; both scientists, both to have romantic interests, both have an obsessive personality, one of them is cured the other's sent to Arkham. I don't see Jervis not going to Arkham but I do pity him I do pity him a lot

With his relationship, to how he sees himself, there is clearly a lot of -- a lot of similarities between how he sees himself and how he sees the Hatter.

For example, he talks to his mice which then they have tea as like in the book, and he -- he has found people outcast him for being eccentric so he truly believes that because he is outcast he is mad or at least is made to be mad.

Additionally with how he is physically and with the way they designed him he looks very similar to the original Hatter it makes him even more singled out, so when he is isolated and he's working on his neurotech and he's obsessed with the book etc etc it is -- it is like he is projecting and to an extreme extent as well where in the book The hatter and Alice are amicable together -- it is completely different in the animated series

This is in contrast to Cates is specifically important because we are following Tetch's narrative. We as the audience villainize Kate's alongside Jervis Tetch that we only see her as a very blunt and forward woman and the way that she treats Tetch seems unfair. That we have only known him for a couple of seconds to be positive immediately the narrative is already biased because we don't know the context of what Cates is like. because she has every right to be angered and concerned and we can only assume that this is at the end -- or this is the at the end of something that has been building and building for a while.

And so with that in mind, we have to understand that where Cates is very career-orientated, she clearly cares for Alice to some degree. You can see her comfort her when she's left by Billy, she clearly doesn't emphasise but she has a lot of sympathy. Knowing this we can somewhat established that Cates is looking out for Alice and the fact that she has a distaste of Tetch proves that this is to some extent -- if not a lot of extent -- nefarious.

We also don't know how old he is. We know that Alice looks incredibly young and already there with that like seemingly large age-gap it's even worse.

I truly believe that Alice is too nice for her and good. When Jervis takes her out to Wonderland -- which is another thing and itself you can analyse -- that in itself she says that he's a silly little man so you already get painted -- you already get painted -- you already get painted this picture of -- of like naivety almost -- but like -- kind naivety so she definitely -- I don't know -- she was susceptible to -- to -- to -- no, not manipulation necessarily -- but definitely some form of mind fuckery...

I mean it's Tetch, you know you don't get Jervis without mind fucking but like I don't know -- I think the fact that Alice is the way that she is and she's supposed to be that -- if she's clearly looking at the good and everyone...

It is is any old Alice for Jervis but this Alice because of the way that she is and that -- it just makes it even worse because she's in more danger towards Jervis which I truly believe was what Cates was on the lookout for.

BASICALLy in conclusion, no Batman didnt make Tetch, he was simply a catalyst and Jervis was already the Hatter the moment we met him. He just chose to don the namesake after growing posessive of Alice to an obsessive degree.

[cherishedproperty]

Hi !, It's me again, I've asked about your opinion on approaching my husband about D/S concept. I thought of sharing with you how it turned out.

I followed your advice, I approached the natter lightly and gave him time to think and process everything on his own. I was on edge the whole time, I haven't felt nervous around my husband in such a long time. Every time we were alone, I was on high alert , waiting for him to say something about it since it was not mentioned ever again.

After couple of day, which felt like a long month , I woke up and my husband is gone to work as usual but I found a note stuck on the fridge which I wouldn't have seen if my 7 years old didn't point at it. The note said kids will be having asleep over,That's it. To me the note spoke so many things that weren't written on it but that simple sentence caused me to freak out. Funny How he managed to faze me so easily.

Fast forward to the evening, Kids at the sleep over at my in laws. I'm alone in the house, somehow, miraculously the house is clean,everything is in place and I sat Literally on the stairs waiting for my husband till I hot a message from him telling me to check my make up drawer and I did, only to find another note that says I want you naked.

Now , I don't know if people experienced discussing something serious while completely naked and the other person is fully clothed. I fought the urge to squirm so bad, it was distracting and completely put me in daze. I felt very vulnerable to some extent but it was such a powe play, to be bare for him and for his needs.

We discussed fair amount of stuff and I was and still am truly astonished how he quickly came by and how knowledgeable he was about it more than I thought he would be.

Serve, take , allow and accept.

Those were words my husband said to me and asked me How far I am willing to go.My reply was immediately and it was how far he was willing to go , but he disagreed with me and asked me to think about it because he and I were in this for different things,we'd have different needs full fill.

I had to tease with for being so into it which got me in trouble but I didn't complain. I understood what he tried say , now I'm trying to find an answer.

How far am I willing to go?

Truly my reply is still the same, If it was with him, I'm willing to go as far as he wants, I love and trust him immensely, he always has my best interest in mind but I feel like my answer should be more about me than him as he insinuated.

So I'm asking you again because I wanna be clear as possible with myself before stepping deeper into this.

Also thank you for your lovely reply last time, it truly meant so much to me.

Wow, it sounds like maybe he was just waiting for permission to step into the role formally. Sounds like a great first conversation!

He’s right that you will have different needs. I think the next step is to try to get a sense for what your needs and his needs really are. This is a conversation you’ll revisit a bunch of times as you learn this new side of each other. But it’s good to at least have a starting point.

One of the mistakes I see vanilla to D/s couples make is to assume they understand what the other person has in mind. Sometimes one person thinks of it primarily as a kinky sex thing, while the other is looking for more of the non-bedroom stuff. Sometimes one person thinks there will be certain kinds of rules, while the other isn’t interested in that. It can be hard as a submissive to tell your partner what you’re looking for. Sometimes it feels completely unsubmissive. But trust me, you have to at least tell him the kinds of things that speak to you. If he’s going to lead, he has to understand what your needs are. And you have to understand his. He may be leading, but you both are creating the dynamic together. It has to work for both of you.

Some people do a BDSM checklist with their partner, but those tend to keep the focus on bedroom kink, rather than a more full-spectrum D/s dynamic. Still, could be fun at some point. After all, all of this is about fun! Don’t forget that.

I wrote this a while ago about setting rules when you’re starting out. Linking here in case it’s also helpful. But it sounds like you’re already off to a good start. Now you get to talk and explore together. This is the exciting part. ☺️

[kilgarraghforever]

So The Son Of Bigfoot is this film from 2017 and it's completely nutty.

The opening scene is this science man getting chased through a forest by a load of helicopters, men with dogs and a pointy-faced dude with very blonde hair. The lot of them have stupid hairstyles. Science Man climbs a cliff, is cornered by the helicopters and then jumps off a waterfall. End scene, cut to title, then the main stuff starts. (I think I'm going to explain the entire film, so anyone who wants to watch it (and I heartily recommend you do so) leave now.)

The main plot is about this kid who gets bullied by three morons with stupid haircuts. Here they are:

(Sunglasses has this silly little goatee thing at the back of his head)

The three morons stick a load of gum in his hair, so his mum has to chop it all off. Next day, it's all grown back, and kid freaks and tries to chop it off himself - which goes badly. He finds his dead dad's old hat in a draw to hide it, goes to school and basically has a weird thing where his hearing suddenly increases and so does his shoe size. The kid's feat literally bust out of his shoes. Kid ends up in the PE hall to escape the noise and surprise! the three bullies turn up, he accidently punches one in the face and so they beat him up, steal his backpack and throw it in a basketball hoop. The lot of them get called to the headmaster's office to be punished (suspension), in which the kid - Adam - meets some blonde girl who flirts with him, gets his bag back and is told to remove the hat, revealing that his hair has grown back completely. Before he has time to contemplate this, the bullies turn up again, chase him home and throw a rock through his window. Rock hits a vent, breaks it and hits something metal, so Adam sticks his arm down and finds a tin full of letters from his dead dad and an address carved on bark. He reads the letters and his mum gets home, he accuses her of keeping his dad's living-ness a secret. Yelling ensues, Adam runs away, y'know - the usual.

Meanwhile, this massive hair company (Hair Co) are trying to make some serum to make hair grow. It's run by the pale dude from before, who never gets named, so I'll refer to him as Asshole. Asshole is showing these three dudes around and nattering, and then they get to this science lab. A short old science man shoots an intern in the ass with a dart thing that causes him to grow an afro. The afro then promptly bursts into flames.

We return to Adam, next to a highway trying to hitchhike in the pouring rain. Truck driver stops and Adam guilts him into taking him to the address on that bit of bark. Turns out it's literally just a post box in a woods next to the road. Adam gets out, truck drives off leaving Adam alone and so he ventures into the unknown. He wanders around for a bit looking for a house or something, yelling "Hello?" into the void. He climbs a small cliff, yells again and hears something behind him. Sees some bushes moving, so he throws a rock at them. The bushes go "ow" so he runs off and right into a bear trap. He falls, skidding the rest of the way down to the road. During said skid, his backpack falls off. This is important. Adam gets knocked out by the impact and is left sprawled in the middle of the road. Some trucker - I'm going to call him Carl - is driving down it, reading a magazine and singing something. He sees Adam at the last minute, slamming on the breaks. He's clearly going to hit Adam, but before he can, this blurry humanoid figure runs out into the road, scoops up Adam and runs off again. Carl is very confused, so plays it back on his dashboard camera. He goes "Well, I'll be" and reaches for his phone. It has no service. Carl ends up at a diner with a phone box, calls 911 and reports that he saw Bigfoot. 911 hangs up on him. Carl then proceeds to call the magazine he was reading and gets told that his sighting will get published.

Back at Hair Co, Asshole sees the report and smirks at the short science man, whom I'll be calling Billingsley, as that is his name. Billingsley wants to go after Bigfoot but Asshole says that they gave up the search ten years ago, leading to the question: 'What the fuck, Hair Co?' They eventually decide to go after Bigfoot again after seeing Adam in the photo.

Carl, back at the diner, is talking to the serving lady who I've named Sugar. They talk about the Bigfoot sighting, and then a load of black cars and a freaking helicopter turn up. Sugar shouts for someone to raise the prices.

Turns out all the men in black people are Hair Co looking for Bigfoot - and Asshole is with them. Carl explains about where he saw Bigfoot and an agent finds Adam's backpack (I said it was important) and his address in it. Asshole smirks again.

Two of the Agents of Hair turn up at Adam's address, break in and find the letters. Meanwhile, Shelly - the mum - is driving to the address on the bark in search of Adam.

This is where it gets a little nuts. Adam wakes up in some tree next with Bigfoot - inexplicably in a pair of jeans that look far too small for him because of all the fur - is standing over him. Adam understandably freaks out and tries to leave, only to nearly die from falling. Bigfoot grabs him before he does and explains that he is Adam's dad. His not dead, very much alive, rather furry and never named dad. (For that reason I'm going to keep calling him Bigfoot.) Adam calls bullshit and threatens him with a twig, then sees that the middle of the treehouse is decorated in photos of him and his mum. This somehow proves to Adam that Bigfoot is his dad, and I'm sure you guessed from the title. He then freaks out again, calling his dad a monster and Bigfoot makes the most funny offended face in animated history.

He then accuses Bigfoot of running away, to which Bigfoot responds with "Woah." He then explains that someone *cough* Hair Co *cough* *cough* were hunting him and he had to leave to keep Adam and Shelly safe. Adam then asks him what he meant by 'lab rat', making Bigfoot change the subject to Shelly and whether she knows Adam is here. Adam lies, his dad catches it, and they argue for a bit before Bigfoot says "Your mum must be worried sick."

Cut to Shelly driving up to a blockade set up by the Agents of Hair. They say they're looking for her, and she tries to escape but the Agents of Hair stop her.

Back at the treehouse, apparently Bigfoot and Adam have stopped arguing and Bigfoot is going on about being sorry he missed Adam's childhood and how Shelly sent everything to him. Adam then asks if he's going to have Bigfoot stuff happen to him - mostly refuring to the fur (I'm not sorry for the pun) - and Bigfoot says no. He then explains that he's already thirteen and hasn't shown any signs of being a bigfoot. Adam says "Yes I have. My feet went weird and so did my hearing." They eventually work out that Adam got all of the cool stuff about being a bigfoot and none of the fur. Cool stuff? I hear you and Adam ask. Turns out bigfoots (bigfeet?) have healing powers (which is how Adam is walking on a leg that got caught in a beartrap), run really fast, hear super well (like things around a mile away) and can talk to animals. They then zipline down to the ground, do some weird surfing thing and fall over. During the next 20 minutes, we meet two racoons, a squirrel and a woodpecker. Oh, yeah, and a giant bear. There's some nonsense with two idiotic hunters, baseball, some geysers and then they end up back at the treehouse. This sickeningly sweet bonding shit is interrupted by the raccoons who report that the Agents of Hair are scouring the forest looking for Bigfoot. Bigfoot blames Adam, which is fair but also really not, who then decides to give himself up to Asshole and the Agents of Hair. They take him to his mum and he tricks them into climbing into a geyser. This pisses of Asshole who, in a plot to lure out Bigfoot, traps Adam in a car and sends him into a forest fire the Agents of Hair started. When Bigfoot shows up to try and save Adam, he gets Adam out of the car but is shot by Asshole with a stun dart. The massive bear whose name is Wilbur saves Adam but a burning branch gets in the way of him going back for Bigfoot, who is captured by Asshole. Adam then blacks out from smoke inhalation. When he comes to, Wilbur and the other animals decide to leave, but Adam convinces them to help him save Bigfoot in a Mission Impossible style heist.

Back at Hair Co, Billingsley has almost perfected a hair formula and shoots the intern again, causing all his hair to grow prolifically. Asshole is pleased by this.

While that's happening, Adam and the rest break into Hair Co's nearest facility, and during the commotion, all of them but Adam get captured. Adam makes it to his dad, who then refuses to leave in a plot twist everyone saw coming, aside from Adam who is confused. Asshole has apparently promised to care for Shelly and Adam and not kill them in exchange for Bigfoot allowing them to run experiments on him. Adam, who is not crazy and doesn't trust Asshole, tries to convince Bigfoot to leave but then Asshole himself turns up and takes Adam out of the lab. Asshole talks about how Adam is going to like being rich while Adam spots a fire alarm, breaks it and causes the only door in to seal itself with him on the inside. This greatly pisses off Asshole, who yells for security to open the door and that the fire is a false alarm. Security guy, who Adam and co knocked out earlier, comes to, hears fire and sounds the evacuation alarm. Asshole gets taken to the bridge, leaving only Adam inside.

Adam then steals an access card from a guard he knocked out, releases all the animals, including the ones used by Hair Co to test stuff on (who all leave the compound and follow the evacuating Agents of Hair), and cause chaos. During said chaos Adam gets a flare gun. He goes back to Bigfoot and this time succeeds in convincing him to leave, threatening to tell Asshole that he's a Bigfoot too. This sentiment is quite sweet as he says that "If you don't leave, then I'm staying. It's the two of us here or the two of us out there, but I'm not loosing you again." They leave and Bigfoot decides to go into a large production area and break all of the gas pipes, deciding that Hair Co is going to be put out of business, permanently. They break many gas lines, leading to the door to be sealed so no gas escapes. They escape through a vent and come out at the top of Hair Co, and zipline down to the bridge using the cables holding it up.

Asshole is there waiting for them. He has found out that Adam is also a bigfoot and shoots Bigfoot several times with stun darts then kicks him off the bridge. Adam, with the most 'fuck you' look, shoots the flare gun's flare into Hair Co, igniting the gas and exploding the building and making the bridge collapse.

Adam then runs to the end of the bridge and climbs down to try and find his dad. Asshole also falls off the bridge because of his own stupidity and the Agents of Hair being incompetent.

In the gorge below, Adam finds his dad badly injured and dying. He cries at first, hugging his dad and his hands glow with blue swirls of light that disappear as soon as he takes his hand away from Bigfoot's arm. He then remembers the healing powers his dad told him about, and uses them on his dad. The blue magic makes Bigfoot's body rise into the air as the healing powers try to heal him, then gently place him back on the ground after Adam is done.

Bigfoot doesn't move.

"No!" Adam cries out, sobbing again. Then Bigfoot moves and wakes up, they hug, the animals show up and it's all very sweet, blah blah blah.

And then along comes Asshole, looking rather deranged and pointing a stun gun at them. He starts monologuing about how "it did not have to end this way" and then is shot in the ass by Shelly. Bigfoot, Shelly and Adam decide on "no more hiding". Meanwhile, the male raccoon discovers that Asshole has been wearing a toupee the entire time.

It turns out that Billingsley and the intern survived.

A few weeks/months later (it's actually only about a week later) Bigfoot and the animals are living happily with Shelly and Adam, who is returning to school after his suspension.

On the way, the bullies return and try to beat up Adam, only to be scared by Wilbur the massive bear. They end up with broken bikes (curtesy of the raccoons) and bruises. The blonde girl from the office shows up at the end of the confrontation and asks to walk to school with Adam. She also asks what happened to his shoes, as his feet bust out when the bullies show up. He jokes that he should switch to sandals, and the film ends on them walking away with his shoes hanging from a telephone pole.

It's a wild ride and I'd honestly recommend it to anyone with an hour and a half to spare. Despite what it looks like, I didn't get in everything and the whole film is a lot funnier that I said here.

This film got an 8/10.

[ping-ping-ying]

ATEEZ as Yanderes! PT. 1/11

⚠️WARNING⚠️ : toxic relationships, mental, physical, and emotional abuse, mentions of death/murder, descriptive violence, kidnapping,

⚠️Disclaimer⚠️ : these are ALL FICTIONAL, and my OWN personal opinions and perceptions on the boys. Yanderes are NOT to be taken lightly or romanticized, these types of people are REAL and are/can be very dangerous. These kinds of stories are ONLY for entertainment. If you know anyone like this in real life, please get help!

HONGJOONG ⚖

Worship Yandere

"I'll do anything for you! I'll even kill for you! Please use me however you want!"

Hongjoong DEFINITELY strikes me as the worship yandere

Stalking would be highly likely

So he can know exactly what you like and don't like

Whether it be clothes, movies, your favorite historical event, it didn't natter

He took EXTREME action into knowing everything about you before he actually confronted you

When he first met you, he didn't just fall in love with your personality, but EVERYTHING about you

You didn't know but he was basically putty in your hands

Not that you would ever know

At first you were weirded out by him, due to him being so quiet, and his wandering eyes always staring at you

If you are upset, he will do ANYTHING to make you feel better

Someone at work/school made you upset?

You heard the news of that persons death the following week

You wanted a new pair of shoes that you couldn't afford?

Expect to have a whole closet filled with new shoes

No matter what you do, HE WILL NEVER hurt you

Like- ever

You could betray him, from the point of no return and he'd still worship you

Hongjoong doesn't care if you don't love him, he will still aim to please you at all times

He doesn't like killing people, he will only kill if they seem like a threat to you or your happiness

Doesn't realize he's being too clingy and possessive

But you say nothing in fear of hurting him

Hongjoong isn't that big of a softie once you get to know him

His cute, shy, and introvert persona would fade gradually over time

It was actually unnoticeable since the shift in character was cleverly planned out

Eventually you caught him in the act of beating up one of your friends because he was jealous that you were spending more time with them than with him

You called off your relationship immediately

He wouldn't fight you on the matter

But that won't stop him from secretly buying you things or taking care of your "problems"

SEONGHWA ⚖

Sadistic Yandere

"It hurts? That's your fault! Next time learn your lesson and stop looking at other men!"

I know exactly what you're thinking

"WOULDN'T THIS BE SAN?!"

I have thought about it, and to me Seonghwa strikes me as this type of Yandere the most

Seonghwa was also HIGHLY intelligent

He knew EXACTLY how to make you fall for him

It didn't matter how long it took

You were going to be his

Made sure to be your typical Wattpad fan fiction boy, whether you wanted him to be that "bad boy" or "good boy"

In the end he decided to try the good boy persona

When he met you, everything had to be perfect

He rehearsed lines ahead of time, and practiced until he had the courage to face you

It was at a summer carnival event, he helped you win a prize at the strength game

From the moment you looked into his eyes, you were putty in his hands

After almost a year of knowing each other, and a couple months of dating, things were going great

That was, until you decided to hang out with your old friends from high school

You invited Seonghwa to be your date to the gathering, and it was hell for him

The way you completely disobeyed his unspoken rules of talking to other men that wasnt him

The final straw that made him break his character was when it was time to leave and you have your male friend a big hug while giving him that smile that makes Seonghwas heart melt

When you got home he grabbed and dragged you to the bedroom

"Seonghwa what are you-"

SLAPPED YOU DEAD ACROSS YOUR FACE AND DID NOT GIVE TWO FUCKS

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

*SLAP*

"STOP IT WHAT-"

He smacked you a couple more times before he pushed you on the bed and decided you needed a lesson

Would torture you, sexually or plain physically

Don't scream or beg, it only fuels his drive to punish you

Will not stop until HE beileves you learned your lesson

YUNHO ⚖

Self-Harm Yandere

"Hey... look at me... look at me... look, there's so much blood coming out..."

Through your relationship, Yunho was pretty normal

Until you accidentally forgot to give him his goodnight kiss and hug

It was ONE night, because you were so exhausted from working/school and you passed out on the couch

In his mind, that one mistake told him that you didn't love him anymore

This Yandere has two sub units

One where they start harming themselves in private, and the second one, harming themselves openly

Yunho started off doing it privately

He planned this strategically

When you noticed cuts and bruises on his wrist the next day, you questioned him frantically

To which he nonchalantly explained that he hurt himself at the gym

But you weren't an idoit

You KNEW these particular kinds of injuries were caused by self harming

But you didn't press the issue because you assumed it was a sensitive topic for him, and didn't want to trigger him

Yunho began to lose trust in you

He was scared you would end up leaving him one day

All because of that ONE night

Even though after that one night, the normal goodnight kisses and hugs continued

But to Yunho it wasn't the same

So when you came home one day later in the evening, you and Yunho got into an argument

A very HEATED argument

It ended up with you saying his WORST FEAR

"If you don't stop this right now, we are over !"

That's when he snapped

"You're breaking up with me?!"

"If you don't stop acting like a selfish jackass then yes!"

Honey that's all he needed to hear to send him into a frenzy

He started punching himself in the face, to the point where his mouth started bleeding

"YUNHO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STOP IT!"

He ignored you and then grabbed a sharp knife from the kitchen and sliced all over his arms, legs, torso, and face

You began to cry, and fear for your life

You backed up and was about to dial 911 when he yelled out,

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! I'LL KILL MYSELF! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I'LL DO IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!"

You acted quickly and raced over to him cautiously trying to get him to stop

"Yunho baby I'm not leaving you!"

"LIAR!"

"Honey I didn't mean what I said! We were arguing and I just said something cruel but please know that I won't leave you ever! I love you."

"YOU PROMISE?!"

"I promise now stop hurting yourself please!"

Yunho did what you asked and then started to break down and cry

You engulfed him in a big hug and whispered sweet nothings into his ear

All the while, Yunho smirked, and smiled wickedly while crying

His plan worked

There was no way you were ever going to leave him now

Or so he thought........

YEOSANG ⚖

Stalker Yandere

"Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?"

Yeosang is a man who likes to live off the radar

No one really seems him or acknowledges his existence unless he makes himself known

So stalking you everyday was no problem

You were oblivious to the fact he stalked you day and night

But that doesn't mean you didn't have any strange feelings

For the past three years you always had this sense of uneasiness

You didn't know how to explain it exactly

But you felt that you were always on the defense

Ready for something unexpected to happen to you

And not in a good way

Whenever you confessed these feelings, people would laugh and say that you're paranoid

And yes you were paranoid, because your psyche never lies, it's there for a reason

"I'm serious! Maybe I'm being stalked or something."

"Who would want to stalk you? You don't do anything."

A brutal attack, but the statement was true nonetheless

But that never set your psyche at ease

And the most fucked up thing about your whole "paranoia" was that Yeosang was in your life

He was your neighbor

And the two of you were quite acquainted

Granted Yeosang didn't exactly LIVE in that house down the street, but you'd never know

He would take run around the neighborhood for exercise and would stop to talk to you if he saw you

He played the role of the normal neighbor a little TOO well

Stalking Yanderes CAN be violent, but Yeosang wasn't

It would ruin his ability to stalk you in peace

He never hurt your, or the people around you

One day he told you a riddle that had you stumped completely

You loved when he told you riddles because it was like a little traditional thing whenever you two say each other

"Everyone has it, but no one can lose it."

This riddle had you stumped for days, and you didn't want to cheat by looking it up online

So by magic chance two days later, at night when you were laying in bed in the dark trying to sleep, the answer hit you

Instead of getting giddy with excitement that you fianlly figured out his riddles like you usually did, it made you feel, puzzled

The way his voice sounded as he told you the riddle

The smile that was staining his face as he did, had your psyche going crazy

You needed to calm yourself, because it was just a riddle, nothing more, and nothing less

So you drifted off into sleep and mumbled the words,

"A shadow."

SAN ⚖

Training Yandere

"Say you love me... SAY IT, SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME! SAY IT!"

This is why I didn't label San as the sadistic Yandere

Even though he could have easily slipped into that category

But not with this one chile

Unlike the Sadistic Yandere, San doesn't like causing you pain, it hurts him deeply to see you in pain

A lot of Atinys (myself included) are so used to San being labeled as "the demon" or "possessed" when it comes to his stage presence or when it comes to NSFW AUs

But you need to remember that San is actually a bubbly, clingy little cupcake off stage

So that's why I stuck him with the Training Yandere

But you need to be trained, so he has no choice but to hurt you

He easily kidnapped you after breaking into your home and drugging your food.

You didn't know who San was, never saw him a day in your life

But San was convinced that you'd known each other for years

(I can also sense a tiny bit of the Delusional Yandere in this one, but like I said A TINY bit)

In the basement you were, chained to a chair like an animal

He came skipping down the stairs happily and had a plate of food for you

"Now you can eat if you say the magic words."

"Please?"

San chuckled at your response

In normal situations yes that is the magic word, but San said "words" not "word".

"No that's not it."

"Well then what it is?"

"You know what it is silly."

The confused look on your face made San beileve you were lying, and that you were just being a brat

He hated brats

"Alright I see you're still going with this-"

He brought out his bag filled with torture equipment

And that's when you lost all sense of reality

You kept telling yourself that you were dreaming

It was the only logical explanation for this situation

"Awe don't cry, just say the magic words and you can be free of your restraints."

"....."

"The magic words are "I love you".

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! I DON'T LOVE YOU! I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU!

(Y/N why couldn't you just play along tsk tsk)

"Oh boy, I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this."

The first tool he got out was a hammer, a big, hammer

And he released one of your hands only to hold it down on the table next to him

"You have ten fingers, let's see if you can say the words before we get to ten."

He aimed for your pointer finger and slammed the hammer down on it with all his might

"One."

You screamed bloody murder as you felt the pain shoot through your body

But you still didn't say anything

He slammed the hammer on your middle finger

"Two."

You still didn't say anything, how could you with all the pain you're in

The next finger

"Three."

No response

The next finger

"Four."

No response

San was getting frustrated, but didn't show it

He eventually broke all ten of your fingers, and was amazed at your strength of not giving in

But that's just the more violent he had to be

Next on the list, was your face

He slapped and punched you repeatedly, blood getting everywhere and your vision becoming blurry

But you STILL didn't give in

San had enough

He grabbed a knife from his bag and held it at your feet

This was also the final straw for you

You can live with broken fingers, but not feet

"SAN! I- I LOVE YOU!"

"What?"

"I'm sorry for being a brat, please forgive me! I love you!"

"Oh darling! I knew it!"

Of course you were lying, but he didn't know that

[emerald-amidst-gold]

Hi~ this is my first ever ask so I hope I'm doing it right lol

Hug prompt 6 or 16 for dragon and wolf? Whichever one you like more (:

(Or both I wouldn't mind)

Why, hello! Another FRIEND has entered the spire of which I live! >:D And you wish for the dragon and the wolf to be mushy with each other? Ohhh, I can oblige!

(Sorry this took so long! I had to sit on the idea for a little while! <3)

***

We're gonna go with 16. ‘not wanting to let go’ hugs for this one! :D

Fane was never overly affectionate, and Solas could confidently say he wasn't, either. Years upon years of disconnection from beings capable of such gestures made one...no longer yearn for a brush of hands or a simple hug. Fane's was more complicated, however, body scarred and aching, mind associating gentle touch as if it were a firm slap. He knew this and he respected his dragon's want for space, always asking for consent unless Fane reached out first. It wasn't like they didn't touch; they did. They had their moments, and most of those moments happened in...well, the bedroom; afterglow or not.

Such as now, the both of them situated on the bed, but not in the way most would believe when they were caught casually walking, side by side, in the Great Hall; unassuming minds and nattering mouths awash with impurities.

"Are you certain you're comfortable, vhenan?", Solas asked softly as he idly flipped a page of a book he was reading. Even when 'retired' for the eve, there was still secrets to unfold, information to compare to memory.

"I'm perfectly comfortable.", Fane mumbled from where his face was currently buried in Solas' shoulder; his dragon having taken place behind him, arms firmly, but gently wrapped around his middle as long legs caged him in, knees bent.

Solas chuckled. "I will take your word for it.", he said, instinctively reaching up with one hand to tenderly ruffle a white cloud of hair; his eyes never leaving the page of his book, smile quiet just as the air around them was. "Even as it seems your neck is groaning from such a position."

"Hmph.", was the only response he got, strong arms tightening a hair, pulling his body closer to the one behind.

The action and continued warmth against his back had Solas letting out a contented, quiet sigh, actively finding himself melt into the wall of slender muscle behind; his head resting against the side of Fane's buried one, but still keeping his gentle focus on his reading. These were the moments that no one else saw or even imagined them having, so certain that with how they acted and spoke with each other that they were engaging more...physically. While at times, they did engage in a more...primal sense, it was not all they did. Those acts were cherished, nurtured every time they occurred, like a gentle flame that wished to blaze high, but was kept to an ember for more tender, focused warmth.

However, another type of warmth had Solas letting out another sigh, eyes fluttering shut as a slightly wider smile formed upon his lips, book going limp in his hand, the one in Fane's hair stilling to hold the head it was attached to. He felt lips, careful, slow, tender and hot, brushing, trailing, and gliding along the column of his neck. A firmer one against his pulse had Solas leaning his head into Fane's more, seeking the butterfly heat like a beacon. It would appear his dragon was attempting to build the fire of passion, and truthfully, Solas wanted him to, knowing it had been over three months since the hearth was stocked.

"Fane..", Solas breathed out around a chuckle as another kiss against his pulse had him drawing up his own legs, fingers curling into snowy strands.

"Hm?", Fane hummed in question, but did not stop, did not pause in his stoking, but his arms drew him closer, unwilling to let go, to lose the logs he was attempting to ignite with flaming lips.

"I believe now..", Solas trailed off as squeeze of arms and light nip had him gasping quietly, body shuddering like electricity had struck it before he continued; his voice more strained, the tone dropped. "...would be the time to position yourself more comfortably." It was a prompt, a beckoning call, but the dragon he voiced it to seemed unwilling to listen; his lips traveling and flying with slow kisses, deep kisses, burning kisses.

"Not yet..", Fane murmured against his neck before resuming his kisses, pulling his body closer to where Solas was practically slumped against him, cheeks flushing, ears twitching, and breath quickening from the smoke of desire. "I want to hold you for a bit longer.." The statement a quiet, deep plea, begging for consent with rolling thunder and growl of another being.

Solas couldn't help but smile despite the smoke choking his mind further, tightening his lungs and making him shift subtly against the furs and silk of the bed--their bed--as the striking of lips like flint upon tinder stoked the flames within higher and higher. For a being that could not desire, could not even dare such a thing, Fane was incredibly versed in seduction and how to best invoke it, but his dragon was also soft and caring when he wanted to be, even amidst lust and passion.

Solas could feel it in the kisses upon his neck, his pulse, that were firm, tender, but caring, a light flick of a tongue soothing where a nip was perhaps a bit too harsh for the bearer's liking. He could feel it in how strong arms, bounded with leather and cloth, desperately clung to him, but how idle thumbs would stroke where they could reach in a soothing, caring manner as if to relax him, to tend the flame and guide it gently to its full roar. He hear in it in the quiet sighs through an elegant, deep breaths sounding after as the owner took in a scent that would otherwise turn their stomach; magic.

Yes, Fane was versed in passion, in desire, even as his draconic nature, for all intents and purposes, could not revel in such things, but he was more versed in soft care, in tender guidance. And Solas adored that contradiction with all his heart, with all his spirit as he leaned back even more, resting a hand upon one of the chains around his middle.

"Hold me as long as your heart desires, ma'isenatha.", Solas whispered, voice shaky, but highly content as he kept his eyes shut, basking in the guidance offered to him with a tender smile and heated cheeks. "I am yours." The declaration was soft, sweet, but held depth they both knew all too well, and he knew that with the way kisses halted, arms squeezed lovingly, and a ghost of smile pressed against his neck.

"And I'm yours.", Fane whispered back, voice deep, growling, but nowhere near threatening before he resumed his tending, his guidance of flame and cinder.

Those were the only words Solas needed, desired, to hear as he let the fires engulf him, their tendrils lapping away restraint, their smoke choking his mind to blissful suffocation, and their inherent heat melting away the ice that had long encased his heart and soul. And all the while, he was held back, held firm, by arms that never wished to let go, to let him fall as the sky should fall.

***

Slight spicy again! Eheh! :3 I can't go two minutes without turning up the burner on these two, or making them complete fools! I hope you enjoyed it! Short, but sweet! X3

[ashilleong-blog]

On Earth as it is in Heaven

One of the unexpected positives to come out of the aborted apocalypse was Aziraphale's friendship with Madame Tracy. While Crowley didn't make a habit of human friendships, which inevitably ended in tragedy or at the very least awkward questions about why he didn't age, both he and Aziraphale occasionally found themselves drawn to one human or other despite good sense.

This one had its own pros and cons. Pro: Tracy already knew about Angels and Demons, and as such Aziraphale could be more open with her than he had been with another human in a very long time. Con: Crowley reminded him that Tracy was already old, and the inevitable end was likely to come sooner rather than later, so why bother.  But he had to admit a certain amusement from seeing Aziraphale on the phone with her. He liked seeing the way Aziraphale's eyes would crinkle as he smiled. Crowley enjoyed the absolute bitchy tone Aziraphale adopted when listening and responding to gossip. He especially enjoyed the mock scandalized look Aziraphale got when Tracy said something saucy, and the absolute, unexpected and shocking pleasure of hearing Aziraphale answer back with something saucy in kind. Never obscene, but towing a very fine line that made something in Crowley leap.

It occurred to him that he would love to hear Aziraphale swear. He hadn't yet. 

Aziraphale was on the phone when Crowley entered the bookshop before lunch. He could tell who it was on the other end by the angel’sposture, less formal than usual with a slight tilt of the head and one hand waving expressively as he talked.

"Sorry? No, not a customer, just Crowley."

"When did I become "just Crowley"? I'll have you know I'm not "just" anything." Crowley mock pouted, then smiled and waved them off at Aziraphale's pointed eyebrow. The angel could say a lot with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips, some of which he was too polite to ever say out loud.  

Everything is fine. Crowley didn't have a hole in his chest where his heart should have been.Everything is tickety-boo.  

Crowley amused himself, knowing from past experience that phone calls like this could go on for half an hour or more. He'd occasionally pick up a book and scan a few lines before the text started to blur together before his eyes. Crowley hated his eyes, had always hated them, how they robbed him of colours he could still remember, how they burned in the light. They were a reminder that no one had spoken for him. 

Aziraphale had not spoken for him. 

Intellectually it shouldn't have made a difference. Aziraphale had never actually claimed not to have been there, and it was his own stupid, foolish fantasy that things would have gone differently if the angel had been. Crowley hadn't realised how much that fantasy had underpinned his relationship to Aziraphale. Like a castle built on sand.  

Stupid. His own fault.

The chatter in the background was irritating. "…she most certainly did not!? Well, you tell her..." 

Up to the flat then to poke things and waste time. That's what Crowley did, poke things. Wounds that would otherwise have healed, questions best left unasked. He had known something was wrong in the weeks after they'd made their switch. Another fantasy, that. Believing that everything would be fine without Heaven and Hell on their backs. But it wasn't and he poked where he shouldn't have poked.

Talk to me, Aziraphale.

And like all of his most magnificent schemes, this one came back to bite him on the arse.

Crowley insinuated himself in all of Aziraphale's spaces.  Opened his cupboards, peeked in his refrigerator, that sort of thing. Aziraphale knew he did it, but hadn't said anything. They hadn't talked about pretty much anything properly since Aziraphale told him about the trial. He wondered if they'd ever talked about anything properly ever. Aziraphale, whose face shone with an open light, had hidden so much from him.

So Crowley invaded Aziraphale's flat while the angel nattered away downstairs. He ran his fingers over the inside of his bathtub and imagined it filled with holy water.

Crowley opened cupboards and looked under the bed. If Aziraphale ever did ask him about it he couldn't answer. It's not like there was anything to find in these spaces.

Is this where you kept your fear all this time? The wardrobe right here? Is this where the answers are? The thing that will fix us? By the mayonnaise in the fridge? 

Frustrated with himself, Crowley made his way back down stairs. He had assumed, by the lack of outraged exclamations that the phone call had ended. Instead he heard Aziraphale talking in a quieter voice, so as not to be heard. Crowley miracled the sound of his own footsteps upstairs.

"...not sure if that sort of thing would help us, to be honest (pause) Oh, I understand you don't necessarily mean sex. Intimacy... I don't know if he'd want it even if I was…capable. (Pause) It's bit like drowning, and I don't ever think I'll find my way to land."

Crowley didn't need to see his face to know that look; he'd worn it himself more years than he'd care to count. Drowning. And the water rushing in his ears sounded a lot like you go to fast for me, Crowley. He had seen people drown when he'd been on the unsinkable ship, seen them take down those who tried to save them too. That was what it was like with him and Aziraphale; he'd have been better off leaving him well alone, but still came back grasping every time the angel had pushed him down. He hadn't known Aziraphale had been drowning too.

"Anyway, we're not going to solve my problems over the phone, certainly not with him upstairs," Aziraphale's voice then returned to its normal volume, "So are you going to tell me this news of yours or not?"

Crowley closed his eyes. 

Everything is fine. Tickety-fucking-boo.

Read the test @ Ao3

[clatterbane]

Finally, assembly time!

One decent description of how to pickle just about anything you want:

For this batch, I decided to just mix up a 3% brine, with 15g of salt mixed into 500ml boiled kettle water and leaving it to cool down while I cut up the veggies.

You can find plenty of rough guidelines calling for like 2 tablespoons of salt per quart jar, but going by weight will work no natter what type/texture of salt you're using. (And tbh I usually just salt the veggies to taste for sauerkraut or cabbage-based kimchis, which really really want to ferment "right", erring toward the saltier side if anything. But, I really wouldn't recommend that unless you've got enough experience to judge good salinity levels by taste.)

So far I am not thrilled with these new narrow-mouthed Kilner jars Mr. C picked up, because wide mouths are SO much easier to pack the food down in. Guess I'd better figure out some better tool to tamp stuff down. On the plus side, at least home pickling and other preserving items do seem enough more popular that it's pretty easy to find canning supplies, say, in the grocery store!

At any rate, that jar did not get packed as tight as I would have liked, and I may have stubbornly overfilled it anyway. But, all those cut veggies I had laid out did indeed fit! If just.

There could be more head room in the jar, though that cabbage in particular will hopefully wilt itself down a little more more in the brine. But yeah, you can bet I'm making sure to set the thing in a dish to hopefully catch any overflowing brine! Worst case, I could still pull some of the vegetables out later if it's too ridiculous.

Glad to get something put together, at least! We'll see how it develops, but I'm guessing it'll be time for taste testing sometime next weekend.

Because I am apparently a glutton for punishment who did not get my fill of vegetable prep yesterday, with these wonky joints?

Behold: this evening's plan!

That's the latest rather pitiful haul of hard little end of season tomatoes which needed to just come off the plants. Which should at least be good for pickling! They're all rock hard, and stunted except for the few cherry tomatoes. I don't actually have much experience pickling riper-looking ones, but even those are hard enough that they should hopefully hold up OK.

They may be growing in the balcony room, but the plants are obviously really Not Happy with the dropping sunlight levels and temperatures out there. (It was already marginal enough on light, and I may well set up some LED panels this coming season. Because I am that kind of stubborn nerd.)

There were not as many tomatoes as I thought, and a couple of the bigger ones had just started going off on the plant before they were even completely red. Nowhere near enough harvest to fill up one of our fermentation lock lid jars. I could just cram them in another smaller jar without the handy airlock, but nah.

I'll just bulk it out with some or all of these other storebought veggies! 😎

(Plus some other seasonings, which I haven't quite settled on yet.)

Been meaning to put together some kind of mixed brine pickles anyway, now that I can eat them again. Excellent excuse to get at least one jar going, and honestly it should turn out more appealing than those somewhat questionable tomatoes on their own. I hope.

Going with the seasonal theme, I may also put together a jar or two of old school brine pickled chow-chow with some of that cabbage, once I pick up peppers for it. Not surprisingly, vegetable combos vary a lot for that type of relish. In my family, at least, what gets called chow-chow mostly uses cabbage, peppers (sweet and optionally hot), onion, and maybe some carrot plus spices including turmeric to turn it bright yellow. If you throw other veggies together into a similar type of relish, it is more likely to turn into piccalilli. Or just, "idk, it's some kind of mixed relish". 😁 Which all mostly does get sweet vinegar pickled by now, but I like it the other way too.

[breziarchive]

I'm here for valentines! Gay aelita wanting a valentine but being too shy to ask the cute girl in class c:

IIIIIII futzed with this one a little bit WHOOPS, it’s a real problem that i just write cliffnotes of the prompt in my sheet then get back to the actual prompt and i’m like WELL…CLOSE ENOUGh.

Azra Ürgüp won the lottery for aelita’s crush mostly in thanks to Kay and my need for more interracial relationships. takes place after/during the canon episode Saint Valentine’s Day, back when they still thought many things about aelita and when she was still fairly sheltered

valentine’s day boogaloo - guidelines - ko-fi

(requests closed, just gettin’ through what’s left!)

~~

Saint Valentine’sDay had been a bust.

Aelita didn’t haveto tell that to anyone, even people who didn’t know exactly whathappened. Her head burned with pain she couldn’t medicate, herfriends were exhausted in more ways than one, and though everythingwas okay and she could smile, it had all been a bust.

When she sat downin her chair, last class of the day which they had just barelymade it back for, she slumped, wishing she had a heating pad onher stomach and a pack of ice for her head. Slipping her opennotebook across the table, she laid her head down. She would’veabsolutely stayed there until class was over, but something poked herchin.

Cardstock. Keepingher head down, she curiously pulled the valentine from between hernotebook’s pages.

Her heart droppedinto her stomach and suddenly she was grateful she didn’t have aheating pad.

I think you’re sweet, Valentine!

The valentine wassigned but Aelita couldn’t recognize the collection of letters. Itwas a phrase, not a name, that much she could assume. But itcertainly wasn’t in French, nor was it Italian, which ruled Odd out.Aelita’s eyes swept over where the boys were sitting; Ulrich sittingbetween Odd and Jeremie just in case the two still had enough spit inthem to go at each other. It wasn’t Ulrich’s handwriting, and Jeremieonly knew French. She then started looking at her classmates. All ofthem were paying attention to the teacher, none of them lookinganxiously at her. Aelita bit her lip and looked at the foreignmessage.

When the bell rangshe caught Yumi before she left campus, roping her into a brisk walkaway from the boys before they got suspicious—after all the fussthey had made earlier, she figured it best. Handing the valentine toYumi, she studied her friend’s face as it hardened in concentration,then brightened in relief and tiredness.

“Just a normalvalentine this time, I promise,” Yumi said, “But I wouldn’t knowwho it’s from without looking it up. And no idea who left it?”

Aelita shook herhead. Yumi twisted her mouth, looking at the foreign phrase. After awhile her face lit up.

“I might have anidea. Back before XANA got really active—and even back before I metyou guys—I went to a couple of International Club’s meetings,trying to make friends, y'know,”

Aelita’s face litup in turn, in interest and excitement. At the sight of it after sucha long day, Yumi’s smile grew. It was the least she could offer aftersteering Aelita wrong the first time with the gift of the necklace.Besides, Jeremie was likely to hole himself away studying that chipXANA left behind—any Valentine’s Day plans they did havewere probably scratched by the ruined mood, anyways.

“Can’t be sure,but we did a language exchange day once, and there was one girl whowrote in Turkish—in fact I think she’s in your class,”

“She is?”Aelita asked, “Do you remember her name?”

“Umm,” Yumiclosed her eyes to think; it had been quite a long time since she hadbeen to a meeting, “I think…her name was Azra?”

Her face winced inapology, “I probably butchered her name, though,”

Aelita didn’t mind,wide-eyed and turning the name over in her head, wondering what waswritten on the note. To think! Someone outside of the group noticedher, thought of her enough to send a valentine? For a moment shedashed the idea like it had been an accident, but to slip into hernotebook it would’ve had to been tucked into her bag quitedeliberately, especially for it to be hidden until she had thumbedthrough the pages to jostle it loose. Still, the doubt flashed acrossher face and Yumi tilted her head, asking what was wrong.

“I mean…are yousure this is for real?” Aelita whispered. Yumi shrugged.

“Well, it couldjust be a friendship thing, but even so. I think all those boytroubles are giving this admirer of yours a run for their money,huh?”

“Do…can girlseven fall in love with each other?”

Yumi blinked,surprised. She wasn’t prepared nor equipped to really answer thatquestion in-depth, but she had to keep in mind that Aelita was, forall intents and purposes, a curious program in human form. Shockinglyhuman form, and by this point she was human nonetheless. Thoughawkward, rubbing her arm, she tried to answer the best she could.

“Well, of course.It’s generally not…I mean, I’d be careful as to who knew. Noteveryone’s okay with it, but uh…if it floats your boat…,”

Aelita stared ather, innocent and worried. Yumi forced a smirk and pushed pasteverything she couldn’t really articulate and repeated herself, “Itfloats your boat.”

“Oh…,” Aelitamurmured after a while, “I…should send something back…,”

At that Yumibeamed. Assuring Aelita that late valentine’s weren’t really anoffense unless it was already an established couple, and if this waswhat they thought it was, some shock and time to process was probablyexpected. After letting the boys know, Aelita followed Yumi home,home to dinner, home away from Kadic’s confusing structures; home tobuild a response.

Home to a computerthat provided a crude translation: Sincerely, your admirer.

‘Admirer’ couldmean a myriad of things, but Aelita’s heart was fluttering more andmore at the suggestion of something deeper. Something sweet andinnocent and just—even if it was flippant and superficial it wassomething new, and so long as they knew what it was Aelita wasokay with whatever it needed to be.

With Yumi’s helpshe crafted a response, which took much longer than she figured itwould, puzzling words and phrases out so it was a profoundacknowledgment but not too pushy. Calm, but not dismissive.Admittedly Yumi couldn’t help much either, she wasn’t good with wordsherself if her communication issues with Ulrich said anything. At onepoint Yumi laughed, embarrassed, saying that he was the poet, nother. The laughter was shaky, unsure. Well, if Aelita had time tofigure it out, so did Yumi. Besides, her friend didn’t want to spendtime on him when she had invited Aelita over for something else.

Despite Aelita’sinexperience and Yumi’s bluntness, the pink-haired girl walked homewith a note pressed flat against her fluttering chest.

Now came theproblem of delivering it.

Slip it into herbag? Too secretive, Aelita didn’t like that. Confront her in thehallways, cafeteria, classroom? Too…public. And she got theimpression that valentine’s like this were better done private. Butnot too private, she didn’t need to drag Azra into the deep ofthe woods just to pass off a note. Half the day went by and Aelitawas stuck in a loop of anxiety that planted her in inactivity. Theanxiety started to natter doubts in her head, that she hadmisunderstood, there was a mistranslation, or it was just too earlyto tell.

Eventually shesucked in her doubts and tried to press it into courage, staring atthe back of Azra’s head the whole class period. The bell rang, herheart blocked her throat, Aelita followed Azra out under the arches.

“H-Hey!” Aelitacalled, “Az, Azra, was it?”

The girl turned andAelita felt her heart, still in her throat, become a boulder. Darkhair, striking eyes, short, defined eyebrows—how did Aelita nevernotice this girl before? How many other classmates of hers had shejust not noticed because she was too preoccupied witheverything else?

“U-Uh,” shegulped the best she could, “Y-You dropped this,”

Smooth assandpaper. Aelita held the note out dumbly. Azra took it, and thoughshe probably didn’t take it slowly it felt like an agonizing eternityto Aelita. Trying to dance on her feet as inconspicuously aspossible, Aelita waited until it was too awkward to leave quickly butalso too awkward to stay and darted away. Azra’s brilliant eyes hadbeen trained down on the note, not noticing her fleeing until it wastoo late.

Azra frowned atwhere Aelita had just been. Opening her mouth like she was going tocall out, but shutting it when she realized she was alone, shecarefully re-folded the note and tucked it into the pages of hernotebook, memorizing Aelita’s handwriting and message.

I’ve never felt sweeter, thank you!

But I think giving a valentine firstmakes you the sweet one

-Admirer