#I'm out and I don't feel too uncomfortable woe

[outlanderalien]

Not sure if I'm sabotaging my relationship or not but I feel like I'm in the right ? Perhaps ?

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[gothamite-rambler]

The batgirls on their periods (conclusion)

The batgirls on their period and how the boys handle them. My Aunt Flo is visiting this month and period woes should be told. All right, let’s do this thing!

Stephanie rested on the floor in the fetal position. She groaned from the intense cramps her period bestowed on her. Tim walked into the living room spotting her on the ground next to the couch.

Tim (raised eyebrow): Why are you on the floor?

Stephanie (uncomfortable): I attempted to readjust myself on the couch, and then I was on the ground. That's when the stomach cramps entered the mix and I am in too much cramp pain to want to get up. Why are these always so... intense?

Tim (missing the point): You might have a medical condition related to the-

Stephanie (seething): I need you to stop doing what you usually do. I seriously don’t want to kick you in the crotch and mind you I’m at the level to do so.

Tim (not concerned): Sorry, it's hard turning it off. Um, do you... Do you need anything?

Stephanie (sardonic): For us to switch places and you go through this.

Tim shook his head with a frown.

Tim: Nah, I'm good.

Stephanie (woefully): It feels like an elephant is standing on top of my ovaries and… bouncing.

Tim: That is… oddly descriptive.

Stephanie chuckled raising her hand to talk with it.

Stephanie: Because it’s real, mon frère. At least I still have my humor.

She moaned in pain once more from the elephant bouncing pain.

Stephanie (staring at the ceiling): I think this is it, Timothy. Leave me here to die. Tell my family I loved them and tell Kite-man not to attend my funeral. I’m serious, lock the doors if he tries to step foot at my burial service.

Tim rolled his eyes and helped his friend up.

Tim: At least lay on the couch.

Stephanie: Yes, I'll lay here and suffer.

Tim laid her on the couch and placed a pillow behind her head.

Tim: I can get you an ice or heating pack. That helped when I got kicked in the stomach.

Stephanie: Hmmm, bring me the warm one and Nutella and more carrots... And pain meds. The kind that will let me sleep like a baby.

Tim: Gotcha. Anything else?

Stephanie, raising her pointer finger spoke as if she was an old lady.

Stephanie (sounding like an old lady): Blanket, child. A fuzzy one.

Tim (sympathetic): You just rest. I will take care of you until your period ends. I'll also tell Bruce you're too... Sore is the word I want to use, yeah, too sore to go out tonight.

Stephanie (sincerely): Thank you. You're the best.

Tim: I try to be.

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

Dick Grayson got the angry side of the menstrual cycle. Something he dealt with since knowing Barbara and it was never a fun time. 

Barbara was not happy with her replacement cake. A vanilla and chocolate mixed cake that Dick bought at the grocery store.

Barbara: This isn't the same cake! It has vanilla in it! You bastard!

Barbara hurled the cake at Dick, hitting him squarely in the face with pinpoint accuracy. The cake quickly slid off, leaving behind a smattering of icing and crumbles clinging to his features. He inhaled sharply, his heavy breaths mingling with surprise.

Dick (mantra): Maintain peace. Maintain peace.

Barbara (crying): Why did you eat my cake? I needed it at this time!

Dick wiped cake out of his eyes, reminding himself he had to be calm when Barbara was going through PMDD during her time of the month.

Dick: Maybe you shouldn't have said I could eat the rest.

Barbara (shouting): You shouldn't have listened to me! I was naive back then!

Dick (losing his temper): It was… two days ago!

Barbara pouted then burst into more sobs, her makeup smearing and her glasses fogging from the tears.

Barbara (crying harder): You... YOU YELLED AT ME!

Dick (panicked): Don’t cry- How was I supposed to know your period was coming on?!

Barbara: You live with Bruce Wayne! The man tracks... everything! I thought you'd have the knowledge to do the same.

Dick (softly): I really don't. You seemed to fail at that too.

Barbara (angry): I was a few days off okay?! This is such shit! I’m tired and bloaty, and I can’t focus! I want to get to work, but my brain is foggy. Worst of all... you made me cry!

Barbara sobbed, her hands covering her face as her tears flowed. Dick let out a sigh and carefully approached her. He wrapped his arms around her, offering a comforting hug to reassure her that everything would be alright.

Dick: I know you're dealing with a tough week, and I really can't handle another sore foot. Why don't you take a break? Shut down this room for the night and give yourself some time to rest. I can swing by and pick up a big box of your favorite chocolates, along with a teddy bear you can use to vent your frustrations instead of taking it out on me. Just take some space until you’re ready to dive back into work and I'll try to do comms for the night.

Barbara (sniffling): That might actually help. I’m really sorry for yelling at you and running over your foot. The cake throwing was out of line too. I guess my PMDD makes me a bit harder to handle sometimes.

Dick (sarcastically): No really I couldn't tell.

Barbara: Can you not tell anyone I cried either?

Dick (smiling): I’d rather forget all of this happened, secrets safe with me.

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

Jason got lucky with the calmer side of the cycle, even though Cass is a bit shy about discussing it. Her birth father wasn’t really the type to take on the responsibility of raising a daughter properly. Bruce tried his best, but it was always a little awkward between them. At least Jason is a better person to take along to the local convenience store for menstrual supplies.

Cass walked over to Jason, carrying four different brand boxes of menstrual pads.

Cass: I couldn't figure out what to get so I picked each brand they had. I swear you think one brand will do its job and then… it doesn’t.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to dwell on what she meant. He closed his eyes, already regretting what he was about to say.

Jason: Never tell anyone this, but Artemis recommends the Playtex. Just get that so we can go.

Cass: Artemis suggested that? Okay, that’s the one to buy.

Cass handed Jason the Playtex box and then pushed the other brand boxes onto a store shelf.

Jason (blushing): All right, take this back please.

Cass giggled as she took the box back and tucked it under her arm.

Cass: I'm glad you took me to the store, you’re the best.

Cass tried to hug her brother, but he stepped aside.

Jason: Don't hug me in a convenience store as you're shopping for pads. I’m just as uncomfortable as you.

Cass (smiling): I'll give you that hug later. Oh if it's okay can you buy me a lot of caramel candies? I'm not a chocolate person honestly and these pads are expensive. 

Jason grabbed five bags without hesitation.

Jason: As long as I'm not paying for the...  Pads.

Cass: You so silly. You said Artemis has her own time of the month.

Jason (blushing): Yeah I don't- I don't help her out with that. Amazon women... not nice during that time. She screams at me if I talk to her during that pe- ti- situation. At least you're not as... Punchy as she is.

Cass: Yeah I'm pretty mellow during this time. Just bad cramps and feeling mushy.

Jason (sheepishly): That's... not mood swings. Good… for you. I think. This is my life right now.

Cass laughed, patting Jason on the arm.

Cass: Pretty much. I'm surprised you came in the store with me though.

Jason: I mean I wanted to help you out... because I care about you and I saw how nervous you were.

Cass sniffled with a smile.

Jason: Yeah I know I'm awesome. Let's check out. You go first.

Cass: I don't blame you.

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

Kate has been through her cycle enough times to be used to it. Her and Bruce were at Chili's (Not by Bruce's choice) and talk about menstrual cycles. Kate does all of the talking, Bruce is regretting ordering the burger.

Kate (chewing): I swear this one week is the bane of every woman who has to suffer through it. Blood coming out of that area, the aching and throbbing can be intense when my cramps start. It’s like someone is drilling a corkscrew into my uterus. The entire week is nothing but exhaustion, even walking is difficult. Then there’s the diarrhea and your breasts-

Bruce dropped his fork and slammed his fist on the table to silence his cousin. She let out a chuckle.

Bruce: Why are you telling me this while we're at a chain restaurant?

Kate laughed, taking another bite of her steak. 

Kate: You're my cousin and that gives me the right to gross you out. That and you have to know this by now. You have daughters.

Bruce: I'm starting to wish I had all boys.

Kate (mockingly): You boys are so sensitive about this stuff. How do you think we feel? 

Kate snatched a fry from Bruce's hand and popped it into her mouth. He had intended to eat that.

Bruce (monotone): You want the rest of my fries?

Kate: N- I’ll take a couple.

Kate grabbed a fist full of fries and plopped them on her plate.

Kate: Brucie, just support us like you do already and we won't cuss you out.

Bruce (doubtfully): Yes you will.

Kate: I’m lying you got me. You're doing a great job though, cuzzo.

Bruce (sweetly): I’m glad that I am.

Part 1

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The guest PT 9

Masterlist

Jack Dawkins x fem reader

"I'm afraid I, too, have an uncomfortable revelation. About the stolen pay. Now seems an appropriate time to deliver it. My suspicions were first aroused when told there'd been an outbreak of typhoid and I can now confirm..." Gaines is interrupted by a redcoat dragging Fagin into the room.

"Get your hands off me!" The older man squirmed.

"Captain Gaines. Found this vagrant screamin' he's got urgent news. Flog him now or flog him in jail?" The soldier asked.

"Is no one interested in this urgent news?" Lady Jane mused.

"This man is my servant. And as such, I take full responsibility for him and whatever it is he's been up to." Jack says standing up from the table.

" Yes, well, I have vital information about the soldiers' pay. Please. Your Majesties, allow me to unfold a sordid tale of unmatched woe." Fagin began. You sat and listened to his story as a carriage pulled up at the front door. Gaines marched himself out there, finding his wife Peggy and Darius sitting together. The Soldiers pay in a leather bag at their feet.

The members of the party dispersed into separate rooms, you being left in the dining room alongside Sneed.

"Was that true? You helped him make a fool ofme? I knew you did not want to marry me but to go as far as to defame me, to scupper my chances of head surgeon..."

"No Rainsford I didn't mean...I was just-" your cut off by the pain in your chest. It takes over your whole body, making you drop against him, limp and dizzy. You gasp for breath.

"What is it?" He asks you but his words are lost in the fog of your mind.

"I can't...I... Rainsford." Your whole weight drops and you hardly feel as he lifts you into his arms. The rush of the family as they watch him carry you up to your room and lay you on the bed. You don't see the concerned glances between Fanny and Belle as he listens to your chest and checks your pulse. You know nothing until you awake hours later in a darkened room with only a single candle burning on the table, Belle sat close by.

*_*_*_*

"well if you insist on her living in town, I am going to live with her. It is completely uncivilised to expect an unwed young woman to live entirely alone." Belle was arguing with her mother.

"Absolutely not." Lady Jane slammed her hand on the table.

"then y/n should just stay here." Fanny argued.

"of course she is stating here, clearly the girl is unwell and I will not put her out in such a condition." Edmund finalised the conversation.

"I shall work on marrying her off then, I'm sure someone will take her " lady Jane scoffs and turns away. Fanny looks to her sister,

"You've been moping ever since Dr. Dawkins ruined our dinner. Come on. Up!" She demanded. Belle groaned at her and threw her legs off the side of the couch allowing Fanny to sit beside her, "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes, I'm completely cured of my despair. I have a gift to lift your spirits. A guillotine? Better."

I have a gift for you. A painting made with these very hands. It's the story of us. Our journey here, a house, a kangaroo." Fanny pointed to each thing on the paper.

"What are these?" Belle asked pointing.

"Tree trunks. I keep seeing these in my dreams" fanny said absently.

"Doctor Sneed is here for you." Lady Jane announced through the door. Fanny perked up, "No, not for you for Belle, he wishes to take you shooting." Belle rolled her eyes and left the parlour.

With encouragement from Fanny you leave the comfort of your bed and sit in the parlour. Though she has to leave you some time later you are content for a moment until lady Jane enters.

"I'm sorry, Lady Jane. I can go elsewhere if you need the room." You say.

"No, no. It appears I have been out voted and you are to stay here with us." She grumbled.

"Oh, well, I will endeavour to no longer be a bad influence on your daughters." You said as respectably as you could.

"Yes, good." The older woman turned and left once more, followed only moments later by Belle as she flung herself onto the couch.

"He asked me to marry him." She huffed. You knew it was coming and you'd turned him down, so why did it annoy you?

"You could do worse?" You laugh falsely, knowing well enough Belle would never agree to marry Sneed. Her eyes looked at you, studied your features.

"No, but I could do so much better. Have you ever married?" Her question was breathy, like it had taken much courage to ask it. You shake your head, absentmindedly.

"No, no one ever stood up to the fictional characters that I feel for." You laugh.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Oh just some light reading." You closing the medical book. Belle thinks for a moment.

"Jack is a fine man." She states.

"Yes he is," you agree. His face instantly popping into your mind's eye. The way he had smiled at you, still fresh in your thoughts

"You say that I should consider him, but what if I want to consider someone else?" Her eyes flick between your eyes and your hands.

"No, you should set yourself on Jack, he compliments you and you him." You say.

"but the way he acted at the dinner..."

"Belle, you were awful to him. You invited him here for your own adjenda and then humiliated him." You chastise her.

"No, I...well I..." Belle sighs, resting her head on her fists. "he was rude to me."

"because you hurt him." You explain. "But don't worry, he'll come round." You assure her. Belle looks to you, a strange feeling bubbling in her stomach that she hadn't felt before.

*_*_*_*

Jack stood at the preparation table when Sneed came marching in.

"I demand to know why you were seeing my patient. I had already made it abundantly clear his condition is inoperable." He scowled.

" He wanted a second opinion." Jack replied almost uncaring .

"From you? Please." Sneed jeered. Jack put down the apparatus he had in his hands, "Wouldn't you want a second opinion if some spoilt, pompous, upper-class prat with only basic medical knowledge told you your career was over?"

"Never cross me again on matters medical, Dawkins. I don't know how things were done on your side of the city, but that's not how we do things here. You will not operate on that man. Nor will you have anything to do with the ladies of Government house." Sneed hissed,

"Ah you true intentions scream out. She'll never be yours." Jack knows he doesn't need to say a name for Sneed to understand.

"And if I find that foul stench has anything to do with you or your illiterate friends, I will see you are all soundly punished."

"That's so strange because, you see, we all thought that that smell was coming from you."

Jack could not concentrate after that, his mind caught back on you, when an idea pops into his mind.

*_*_*_*

"Hello." Jack said as he barrelled through Belle's balcony window.

"Have you completely lost all sense?" She scowled at him.

"Quite possibly."

" If you have come to apologise for your behaviour from now weeks ago, then you must do it formally and at a proper time. I will consider whether or not to accept it. Please go." Belle says arrogantly.

"I'm not here for you." He said walking to the bedroom door and slipping down the corridor, Belle marched behind him.

"Come to steal from my home have you?" She jeered. Jack stopped with his hand on a doorknob.

"on contrary." He pushed open the door entering your room. You sit on the bed. "Do you know about Strabismus surgery?" He asks you.

"What does a criminal need to know about that?" Belle scoffs.

"Do you?" He ignores her, keeping his eyes on you.

"It's the realignment of the eye." You say.

"See? I knew you'd know." He smiled at you

"Would you happen to have some medical textbook that might..." you say to Belle.

" Yes. This way." The two do you follow Belle downstairs, as Jack leans back on the desk you sit down in the desk chair. Belle climbed up to look through the shelves.

"Are you...how are you?" Jack asks you.

"I'm fine Jack." You reply to him, trying to keep your tone flat.

"It was first performed in the 1830s by John Homer Dix. The surgeon needs only three instruments, a fine hook to elevate the conjunctiva, a bent probe to isolate the tendon, and scissors for opening up the conjunctiva."Belle read allowed from an old book as she climbed down.

"Pictures. I need pictures." Jack says standing to his full height.

" Yes. Here." Belle holds the book towards him.

"It is so dangerous." You say from your seat.

" Yeah, but you love that, don't you?" He grins back at you.

"Can you do it?" Belle asked.

" Yes. Maybe." He scanned the pictures.

The three of you start walking back toward the stairs.

"It's important for both of us that we clear the air about what transpired." Belle addressed Jack, "I admit that I said things in that moment that I now regret. And I'm equally sure that you said things that now, in the cold light of day, you wish were-" you feel Jack slip away from your side.

"What are you two doing? Y/n are you feeling any better?" Fanny asked walking up to you both.

"I'm well, Fanny. Thank you." You say quietly.

"You've had eight turns in the last few weeks. I've been keeping count." She said, eyes full of concern.

"All's well, sister. Go on, back to bed." Belle said. You shoot your eyes back to Jack before pulling Belle upstairs with you to dress.

"What is that smell?" Belle asks as you walk into the hospital.

"Fagin." Jack answered with a grin.

"It smells like ambergris." She scoffed.

" Like what?" You couldn't help your giggle at his words.

"Will you wait?" Belle grabbed his arm, " Are you going to apologise to me or not?"

"No. What for?" Jack asked.

" For the way you spoke to me."

"Hang on, Belle we spoke about this." You say.

"No, y/n it's fine. I was hurt. And I'm sorry if I spoke to you abruptly. But I don't know how to talk to women. I've never really had to." Jack admits.

" I am similarly rarely interested in anything a man has to say. And I forgive you." Belle nods her head.

" Good. Don't invite me to any more stupid dinner parties. Your lot will never accept me." Jack implores her.

" Why would you want them to accept you? You have no idea how boring we all are." She grins.

"Not all of you." Jack muses, his eyes momentarily flicking to you.

As Jack is preparing the equipment and Belle is helping the navigator on to the operating table he turns to you.

"So, you know what happens here, right?" You nod to him, "So...can I do it?"

"Jack, you are the most skilled surgeon in the world. You can do anything." You say.

Jack dropped his eyes to the table, a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

"Are you still-" he swallows, "still set on my being with Belle and not you?" He asks.

"Jack, I know.it doesn't make sense to you but that's how it's supposed to happen." You stick to your guns.

"But isn't it all different already? I don't feel for her what you say I should. I feel them for you. Surely just being here has already changed it. What if you're meant to change it?" Jack had moved around the table coming closer to you.

"We're ready in here." Belle interrupted.

"y/n?" Jack raised his eyebrows to you.

"Go, I'll be there in a moment."

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @mydeputyghostwagon

[mytheoristavenue]

OP Usopp x Reader - Little Talks

This is a belated birthday gift to my dear friend, @usopps-devotee. Happy birthday Kush, I'm sorry this took so long to get out! I hope you like it!

Summary: You just wish Usopp would let you sleep.

Warning: angst, major character death, platonic!brook x reader, immortal!reader, sad, tragic!romantic!usopp x reader, survivor's guilt, death wish, clairvoyant!reader

The ship rocked feebly as the waves controlled its hull, the dingy, cartoonish lion figurehead cutting through the thick mist. You leaned against the rail, looking out to the bleak sea with somber eyes, searching for any ray of sunshine, only to find drab clouds staring back. "Come back from the railing, my dear," a calm and pitying voice called from a good distance behind. "You'll catch cold in this weather."

"I wish," you retorted coldly. "Maybe I'd get sick enough to-"

"(Y/N), please,"

You sighed, pushing away from the railing and turning to face the only companion you had. "I'm sorry, Brook. I'm just..." you trailed off, unsure what you'd intended to say.

"Lonely, I know." he soothed, pulling you into his slender and uncomforting arms. "Immortality is the loneliest privilege one can have."

"I'm not lonely," you corrected, glancing up into his void sockets. "I'm surrounded by people, but I still miss them."

His bones shifted as if to convey surprise as he withdrew slightly. "You're seeing things again?"

Your eyes widened as you violently pushed away from him, fists clenched with sudden anger. "Brook! I already told you, I'm not seeing shit! They're there!"

The man stepped back a bit, taken by your short fuse as he raised his hands defensively to disarm you. "Now, now, I didn't mean to offend you, my dear. Let's just have a cup of tea and-"

"No, Brook!" you shouted, seething, feeling unseen eyes trained on you. "Why can't you see them too, why don't you believe me?!" Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you stared at the musician desperately, eyes occasionally darting around the ship to your other crew mates.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I-" he sputtered, hurt and unnerved by your outburst, which had begun to become a more frequent occurrence. "I wish I could see what you see-"

Unable to stand another second of Brook's excuses, you stormed off, sprinting down the rickety stairs and disappearing into the lower decks. Crossing over the threshold into the dining room, you froze in place, seeing a tall blonde man with his back to you, cigarette smoke lazily floating in the air. There was a light glow around him that you desperately tried to ignore. The chef, seemed to take notice of you as he turned around to get something, giving you a gentle smile. "(Y/N), hi."

Tears welled in your eyes as you whispered his name, crumpling as you ran to him, needing a hug now more than ever. "S-Sanji!"

"Woah there!" he laughed, smoke billowing over his luminescent teeth. "You look pale, how 'bout I fix you something to eat?"

"Yes, please! Just stay here with me!" you sobbed, stuck to his chest like a wet shirt. "Please don't go away..." You could feel his fingers ghosting over the back of your head, as he shushed you, thinking up what snack to prepare you. You become so soothed by his comfort that you hardly even noticed that he'd stopped petting your hair.

Glancing up, you found yourself totally alone, dumbfounded, and glancing around for any sign that your interaction with Sanji had been real. It had to have been; smoke still hung in the air, and the kitchen smelled distinctly of tobacco, garlic, and expensive French cologne.

"Come back, godddamnit!" you screamed, folding to the floorboards, weeping in an ugly way. Your fist hit the wood as you spilt your woes to an empty ship, only silenced by cloven footsteps.

You didn't even see him, at first, but you could hear him getting closer, feel the frigidness in the kitchen giving way to a hospitable warmth. Suddenly, the presence spoke.

"You better get up off the floor, (Y/N)," the voice was echoey and childlike, and filled with true concern. "You're gonna get all dirty and covered with germs!"

You couldn't even force your vocal cords to make a sound, but you still silently called out to him with arms outstretched. "Oh, Chopper..." you cried, pulling the plush boy close, tears wetting his furry shoulder. "I miss you so much..."

"Miss me?" he asked, befuddled. "I'm right here! We've been out to sea for weeks, I couldn't have possibly gone anywhere!" His cheery tone did nothing for you, only reminded you of the aching truth, and what you had to do to hide it from him.

"I'm sorry, Chopper, I misspoke. I just mean that I've been feeling down and in need of a hug from you. I haven't seen you since breakfast, and I was starting-" you bit back a sob before finishing. "To miss you."

"Oh," the doctor responded, a bit confused by your sudden clinginess. "Well, if that's all-!" The reindeer leaned forward, giving you what should have been a very warm hug, and a peck on the cheek. "I'll give you a kiss too, to speed up your healing! I hope your day gets better!"

Silently, you stood, having no more tears left to shed, and walked past the silver figure. "Thank you, Chopper, you truly were-" you paused for a moment, not even daring to look back to see if he was even still present. "Are- the best doctor on the Grand Line."

-----

Aimlessly, you wandered through the Sunny, passing many crewmates on the way to your room. You passed Zoro, napping on the floor with his back against a wall, and Robin sharing her thoughts on the novel she'd been reading with Frankie in the lounge. They both smiled and waved at you, but you ignored them, spying on them from around the corner. You admired how they both had smiles that lit up a room, and the way that they looked at one another when the other laughed. You used to look at Usopp that way. Now you only wished he'd go away.

Rounding the corner to the dormitories, you ran into Nami, nose buried in a map and ranting to Luffy that he'd steered the ship in the wrong direction. You stood there, stunned as you stared at them.

"(Y/N), look at this, tell him we're going the wrong way, because he won't listen to me!" the ginger raved, shoving a glowing piece of parchment into your face.

"Now listen, it's not about the destination, it's the journey!" the captain argued optimistically. "It'll be fine, (Y/N), tell her!" You simply kept quiet, tearing up with lip trembling. "Hey, what's with you?"

Finally breaking back down, you blew past them, knocking them to the side as you darted to your bedroom. The one you'd shared with your boyfriend. With Usopp.

The moment you crossed the threshold, you winced, recognizing that familiar bite of cold that came with being in a confined space with one of your nakama. In the corner was a small, cluttered desk you'd never been able to bring yourself to clear. It was illuminated by the amber glow of an oil lamp that you'd desperately kept fed, lest the flame extinguish. None of those things bothered you as much as the man sitting at the desk, though.

Once lovely ochre skin had now a tinge of translucent blue, and soft puffs of onyx coils were now little than plumes of white smoke that lacked the substance to even hold together the ends. The worst, however, were his eyes, still shiny and dark and sparkling at the sight of you. Gazing into his eyes, the only original part of him left sent chills up your spine as he turned away from his work to greet you.

"Hey, cutie, headin' to bed already?" he smiled warmly. "It's only six thirty-five." Glancing at the clock confirmed your suspicions. Usopp was wrong, it was nearly four in the morning.

"Just tired." you mumbled halfheartedly. "Mind going to your workshop 'til you get tired? I'd like to be alone to sleep."

"Nonsense, baby!" he dismissed cheerily. "I've been missing you lately, how about I snuggle up with you and we can watch a movie or somethin'?" Without a second thought, he stood, kicking out of his shoes and sliding one of his overall straps down.

"N-no," you protested weakly, tears beginning to prick your eyes. "I-I really just want to be alone, Usopp." You rolled over, back to him and huffed.

"Well..." he began. "Did I do something to make you mad? I'm sorry, whatever it is, just tell me and we can-"

"Usopp, just go away!" you sobbed, the dam finally breaking and unable to contain your grief any longer. "You're dead, don't you get that?! I need you to go, I can't handle seeing you like this!" You continued to berate him, weeping and tugging at your hair for any feeling of control. "And it's not six thirty, and it's not May 12th. It's three fifty-seven in the morning on November 17th. It's been over six months, please just-!"

Throwing yourself back towards him, you opened your glossy and aching eyes to find yourself without company and in the dark. The desk was still messy, sure, and the chair pulled out, but the oil lamp was snuffed out, a light billow of smoke floating above it before disappearing entirely. You'd gotten your wish. Usopp was gone.

But at what cost?

"You're gone, gone, gone away. I watched you disappear. All that's left is the ghost of you. Now we're torn, torn, torn apart, there's nothing we can do. Just let me go, we'll meet again soon."

[takami-takami]

thinking about post-war!Keigo where everything remains the same. Except his wings don't grow back. Everything repairs itself, everything changes back gradually to what it was before but his wings remain the same. Don't remain, rather. It's funny how slow he is, still not adjusted to all of this, given the very purpose of his existence lies in his ability to be fast. Doesn't matter that the reason for his speed is non-existent now. He's a hero, right? Heroes don't cry.

Heroes don't sob over their now-gone cause of existence.

Heroes don't just randomly forget they lost their wings one night, too busy staring at their lover's back with lost, blank eyes. Unaware of his woefully blank amber eyes, you lay beside him in his bed, which feels uncomfortably large now. Another form of failure that hurt his eyes if he didn't already have enough tears streaming down his ugly, scarred face silently, every time he had to begrudgingly look at himself in the mirror. Your attempts and pleas at spooning him tonight were hushed by his silent gaze. Please let me be useful, they pleaded. You gave up. Now gathered in his arms, both of you felt safe.

So safe that he forgot his empty back for a second. As instinct would have it, his back muscles flexed to move his wings to wrap around you. Closed amber eyes and a fuzzy head full of comfort hampered his worries and woes. His mind was too far gone in your soft to register the fact that he had been trying to do this for quite some time now. Unsuccessful attempts forced him to come back to reality. Body writhing, his eyes opened suddenly, wide and full of shock. His hands froze. Keigo slowly comprehended his actions. His eyes felt wet. Awoken by his movements, your body shifted in a frenzy as you turned to face him, eyes open but vision foggy from residual sleep. Out of pure instinct, you cupped his tear-stricken face as you tried hard to understand what the fuck was going on, the best your foggy mind could. His posture and expression worsened.

"Kei', honey, you okay? Kei', talk to me. Wh-" He fell to your chest hard. And bawled like a fucking child. Fists gripped the fabric of your shirt as he sobbed and cried, for god knows how long. You held him with equal force and gently rocked his body, despite a slight understanding of his sudden breakdown. To an extent, you were aware it was because of his wings, with the way he clutched your backside and felt it like it was his own. Whispering soft coos and sweet nothings into his hair continued for a while and near screaming and sobbing turned into silent cries. Eventually, he calmed down. Sensing his discomfort and heavy breathing, you combed your hands gently through his blond locks.

"I love you Kei', you know that right?" No response. Just faint nodding. You suppose that would do for now. uhh hey there V! Call me Rakuyou. This is my first time writing something like this. I've always admired people like you who can express their feelings in words so seamlessly and perfectly. I find Hawks' character quite admirable and well-written, and I most definitely don't gush over the boy every fucking moment. And as for this piece, I'd love to know some tips to write him well and some writing tips that you may wanna share. This might be a Wattpad-level fic at best, but I gave my best. Lemme know your thoughts on this one. I love Keigo and your work!

-Love, Rakuyou. (Crawls into a black hole and dies.)

I ... I do not have words for this. This knocked on my heart like it was a door and said "actually nevermind I'm coming in anyway" and smashed it to pieces on the way in.

[martincrushcameback]

Genuinely tempted to fuck around and make a Martonita fanfic just because there's like none on ao3. Well... there are some and there was a promising mind control one which is fun but as a person who doesn't walk in the circles of krattcest I'm always morbidly upset to discover it's popped up in a fanfic. I should have read the tags i should have read the tags i should have read the tags

Like no hate, I'm not gonna judge, but I AM going to back out at 10000 miles an hour because it makes me very uncomfortable to read.

So anyways now I'm mulling over the concept of doing the whole mind control thing because I loooove playing with mind control but I actually like Donita a lot and I don't WANT to make her a total wretched villain. So how do I go about doing this because my love for Martonita and my love for mind control tropes are both things that can very easily coexist, but how can I put them together without it being Too Toxic??

Do you feel my woes? Because I could straight up just write the Donita Donata Fashions AU where Martin's absolutely mind controlled by those glasses Interstella 5555 style.

But I also want them to be a couple.....

( //👀//)

..👉👈..

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro, I'm on my period rn. Tell me why the only thing I can think about is having a beefy pedro boy to cuddle. One who would rub my lower tummy with big warm hands to help with the cramps, and his belly would press into my lower back and we could just watch rom coms and Star Wars movies. It's giving Frankie vibes, but I also can't stop thinking about retired agent Jack Daniels and that southern drawl.

Oh Redy! I’m too riding the crimson tide…

Who would be the best chubby!P-boy for this job?

Let's find out...

We're-all-in-this-together regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

Chubby!Frankie - 9/10

Of course, our resident military snugglepuss would be ready to take orders. Need supplies? Text him a picture of what tampon/pad combo you want. Don’t feel like cooking? He already knows he’s in for a few days of take out and he’s not complaining. Want comfort? Already has plans to cuddle on the couch and his big body is JUST RIGHT for warm snuggles. Frankie is ready to take on your period and has a strategy for every variable and Is the ideal candidate for the job.

Chubby!Dieter - 7/10

While he may lack in empathy, he has the drugs you need to quell your pain. Uppers, downers, side-to-siders - he's got the gambit and he'll partake what ever you choose. He's also got every take out restaurant on speed dial and a private chef. It's not for everyone and some of his remedies might be questionable, but his heart is in the right place... that and he's a human heating pad.

Chubby!Joel - 7/10

He's done this before - had multiple female partners, had the teenage daughter. Periods are just a part of life and Joel has seen his fair share of blood before (periods or not). Unphased, he's be your matter-of-fact pillar to lean on and offer advise (unsolicited and otherwise). While you love the support, the know-it-all attitude he carries might get on your nerves, but he's quick to apologize and remain supportive in any way he can... while also telling you what to do as he gives you one hell of a backrub.

Chubby!Peña - 6/10

Probably the most uncomfortable with any talk about your 'monthly', he would be supportive albeit a bit clueless. He'd probably get either Connie or one of the other girls in the office to pick up supplies and he'd nervously look at you like a beaten puppy as you sit doubled over on the couch in pain. He'd eventually find a system to help, but it would take a lot of guidance. Perk? You'd get to watch him stress eat over the whole situation.

Chubby!Dave - 3/10

100% out of his wheel house. This is a woman's issue and Dave is not a woman, therefore it's not his issue. Tell him what you need, but don't expect support beyond a pat on the head and a kiss. He might give you a good pain killer if he's feeling sympathetic. You're better to keep your period stuff to yourself, according to Dave. He does get a mark deducted for being terrible at sharing his snack hoard with you.

Dark!Frankie - 0/10

As much as he'd like to think he's great at everything, this is an area that requires empathy. Unfortunately for you, unless the solution to your monthly woes is fucking him or cooking for him, BigFish is out of ideas. He doesn't want to see you in pain though, and he'll tell you that... less to offer comfort and more like an order for you to get in line... The only way it could be worse is if you had to deal with PORP.

Honorable Mentions:

Benny Miller: We'd all be so lucky to have a Benny. We see how he is with Honey (when his good intentions come out wrong.) Chubby!Jack Daniels: Not yet part of the Bistro, but maybe soon? I think you're right, Redy - this old, fat cowboy would be heaven sent. Chubby!Javi G: If he was a Cannon P-Boy, he'd clock a 58/10 on the scale. Homeboy's love language is MADE for dealing withy your period.

[prettyboykatsuki]

*tips cowboy hat over eyes while staring wistfully into the distance* things just aint the same around these parts no more...not since... *trails off meaningfully so you can tell i have woes too deep for one soul to burden on its own* ...since prettyboykatsuki disappeared from town. *you attempt to walk away but i chuckle ruefully with the intention of not letting you leave without hearing my lamenting* they were truly the life and soul of the dash. no one could capture a room's- the dash's - attention quite like their zany isagi thirst posts could. we'd shitpost and laugh and viciously express our desires for sexy 2d pixels until the sun rose the next day. i'm sure you've heard of their legendary bakugou fics? *i turn towards you expectantly and you shake your head at me, fully shaking at this point because you're convinced i'm an asylum escapee* no? ah, well. i'd offer to read one for you but...i could never capture the essence of the dialogue and erotic scenes by just reading it aloud. *you try to ask me where the nearest police station is but i reach into my assless chaps' pocket and pull out a budweiser and you're promptly silenced* truthfully, i was too busy reblogging their omega fics to ask what their favourite drink was so this'll have to do. i know this definitely won't be their favourite but it's the only thing i could grab from the gas station before they saw me and called the sheriff. *you wonder if the sheriff i'm referring to is the cardboard cutout of dwayne the rock johnson standing upright a few yards away that i've duct taped a png. of a cowboy hat to and wrote in marker 'sheriff' on the nipple area* prettyboykatsuki... *i sigh like i have the weight of the world on my feeble poncho covered shoulders and take a swig of the pissy acidic vaguely apple flavoured but shitty apple not the nice kind of apple beer* this one's for you. *i pour a modest stream of the atrocious beverage onto the ground, but the harsh wind intercepts it and drenches you in the liquid* hm. *i feel awkward and i can sense you know that i feel awkward so i stand up abruptly while attempting to maintain my mysterious façade. you ask me if prettyboykatsuki was buried (or something?) where i poured the beer because thats what people usually do at funerals when theyre saying their goodbyes but i simply titter at you like you've asked the most braindead question i've ever received* no, partner... *i turn away from you and you let out a sigh of relief so loud and gargantuan that i definitely hear it and feel a little hurt but show no signs of it because im built different* prettyboykatsuki's everywhere. *i trail off extra mysteriously and walk away from you in the middle of the road where i'm definitely going to get hit if i don't move but i keep walking and you don't want to get into another interaction with me so you just keep watching and i never really go out of sight because the road is one straight flat like so i'm just uncomfortably walking slow paced in plain sight so it doesnt feel dramatic and i'm getting sand in my eyes and keep having to speed up to avoid tumbleweeds so it looks awkward but we both don't say anything because at this point i'm 50 metres away so we accept the moment for what it is, and it's beautiful*

'you' - a random innocent bystander i'm subjecting my troubles to (troubles being u being gone from the dash for a couple of hours)

i typed this in 20 minutes and my shoulder is aching bcos i was going so fast holy shiiiii.

in my entire two years active on this blog, no single ask has ever made me laugh to the point of literal sobbing tears. no amount of keyboard smashing could do my real life reaction justice. like im laughing to the point of almost puking my dinner up. this is the funniest thing ive ever read in my life. im pinning this next time i go on hiatus. im fucking crying.

[fierceawakening]

So, actual question about actual gaslighting:

Mom tells me that my birthday gift is a table from IKEA that she and dad are buying me. I'm happy about this, as I very much do need a table. The one I have is one they were getting rid of when they moved into an apartment more suited to them aging in place, and is a lovely table but is way the fuck too big for my small apartment so I'm happy about this.

We go to IKEA. Somehow they forget that this is an hour each way and everyone is frustrated and annoyed at the trip taking so long so we're all kind of snippy while we're there. Which is maybe not great but I'm just kinda, eh, shit happens, I'm finding a table. Whatever.

TO MY PERCEPTION, my mom has a thing about people getting snippy. She starts to get really nervous and uncomfortable and make a big deal out of it, where I personally would prefer we just all laugh it off. "Oh fuck, we're all tired and cranky and forgot how fucking HUGE an IKEA is. Ow, argh, welcome to the universe, we all want to commit murder now but are too tired, woe is us, ha ha ha." But, again, as I perceive it, this is Not Okay with my mom, who really wants everyone to act happy and grateful all the time. It's TO ME like she can't see grateful if you're not beaming, and it baffles me.

BUT I am not her, and I could be downplaying that I'm curt to the point of mean, so let's presume that I'm terrible and grouchy and should really be less of both given that this is a present for me. Okay. I suck. Let's go.

Well, things get worse. We go to have dinner after, and I say we should wait until we get back to town and know the restaurants, and that while I know she practices intermittent fasting religiously "it's never actually the end of the world to mess up your diet once due to extenuating circumstances, we can push dinnertime to 6:30."

Well she LOSES IT because I called her fasting a diet and we have an argument which culminates in us eating at a terrible Mexican place we all absolutely hate so it won't be 6:30 at which point she absolutely cannot eat.

We're all tired and grumpy and annoyed because that was exhausting They take the table home with them and tell me they'll come back tomorrow (today) to assemble it, and then, since this is about my birthday, we'll go out to lunch for my bday. (I could SWEAR I asked if it was OK that that would take attention away from Mother's Day and she said it's fine, but maybe I don't remember?)

Anyway, we're all still exhausted and kind of annoyed, and now we're assembling furniture. I'm tired and hungry and looking forward to lunch, and from MY PERSPECTIVE I'm still in a bit of a snippy mood but I don't THINK I'm doing anything terrible.

But she gets super upset. Why am I not happy? Why am I not excited? Why did I not immediately mention Mother's Day? And I'm just like oh man can I just focus on putting a table together? And she's like why am I talking in the way I'm talking? MY answer to which is that we're all tired and run down and it's normal, but she doesn't like this.

Finally she tells me that she's not going to go with me to lunch if "I can't behave decently."

I'm hurt about this, but I don't want to promise that I can "behave decently" because I know from experience that trying to mask in front of her makes things worse, not better.

So I say, "You need to make up your own mind. I am not sure I can mask my snippiness until I have eaten and calmed down. If this is a dealbreaker for you, please just drop us off and we'll catch back up with you. If it's not, I'll probably be fine once I've rested and have some food in me."

I feel like this makes sense, and actually even like maybe it would help! I can't vow to never be visibly tired or annoyed, but I can be aware she dislikes it and tell her I'll catch her later when it won't put her on edge.

But her reaction to that is basically that I want license to behave badly, and that I don't care about her enough to "be decent." She goes with us, but the whole time talks about how unfair it is that I be allowed to "not be decent."

I eat the food and enjoy the restaurant, and as I predicted, this helps me to feel calmer and present as less obviously irritated. I am hurt deeply by the "not decent" remark but able to hide those feelings as I'm calmer. Everything is fine. Ish.

...

AITA or is she? I mean, I think she is, but... if I am abusive or cruel and giving myself a pass, I feel like I should know that.

I just... Idk. I don't feel like anyone else does this. Like, friends and loved ones have seen me annoyed. And they don't necessarily like it, but there isn't the same sense that I'm incapable of being decent.

Dafuq do I do about this? I love my mom but I'm so tired of feeling like I can't just... be pissed off, lest it hurt her in some way, when it seems like me being pissed off in front of other people is treated like it's, maybe not perfect, but normal.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Love Me Bitterly [Chapter One] Secret Admirer [Adam]

A/n: I'm not sure if I'll have much time to work on this, but I certainly wanted to go ahead and post the first chapter. I'm not a big fan of Adam, but I love redemption-based fics, so I was inspired to write one. If this type of story isn't your cup of tea, please ignore it.

Warning(s): lewd compliments, sexual harassment, secret admirer, OC, redemption-based fic, Adam is Adam.

Next Chapter

The art here is what Marcella looks like to me.

No Minors Allowed!!

Marcella curled her nose in disgust at the lewd compliment left on her desk; the third one this week, she noted. Each one complimented her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable, and dare she say, cheap. 

‘Nice rack.’

She, like the others, crumbled the sticky note and tossed it in the waste bin. Whoever the pervert was, she hoped she never met them. With an uneasy sigh, Marcella put away her insulated lunch box and returned to her task, tending to the library.

While it was a fun and laid-back job, it was not what she would rather be doing. She was, for lack of a better word, promoted. Her sister, not by blood, but as fictive kin, moved her to the historical library to reflect on her actions when she nearly stood against an elected head on Earth who was abusing his power. It was her job as a warrior of the “Powers” to protect the cosmos from evil, and yet she was being chastised for doing what she felt was right. 

Disobedience is what the Morningstar was cast out for, her sister reminded her. Tread carefully, or you too might suffer the same fate.

Marcella was sick of being reminded of this, a tale as old as time. Every angel through the hierarchy, from Seraphim to the Virtuous knew of Lucifer and his fall. If one toe crossed the line, it was, ‘Don't be like Lucifer’, but she saw no fault in her actions. Perhaps it was why she was still attending the library rather than looking in on Earth or guarding the celestial byways. 

Regardless, she longed for action, rather than being the focus of some pervert's wet dream. 

Woe is me. 

Marcella tucked a strand of wavy light blonde hair behind her ear and grabbed the book cart, rolling it from behind her mahogany L-shaped desk. There was a stack of returned tomes the “Thrones” had checked out that she needed to return to the shelves.

As she sauntered to the middle of the room, she glanced around. The library was a relatively simple design with a wooden gallery and richly carved stone wall pilasters that dictated literary-themed nods. It was said to house thousands of books; from short stories to old tomes. Its only real shortcoming was how vacant it was. Marcella could hear a breath from a mile away. 

She picked up a tome and spread her pastel orange wings and flew to the second floor, landing gracefully on the bridge that crossed between the circle. Her asymmetrical Alice blue dress brushed against her thigh as she sauntered to the correct shelf and deposited the tome at the bottom where it belonged; the heavier books always went on the bottom shelf. 

The sudden sound of gentle footsteps prompted her to peek over the banister where one of her sisters, Rilea, stood. She was in her early twenties, a bubbly angel with a love for gossip. Her tea-length pale pink dress was clean and proper, not a stitch out of place, signifying that she was not on duty. 

Marcella flew down and greeted her with a smile. 

“What brings you here?” She asked.

Hopefully, to dismiss me from this pointless job, she opted not to say.

Rilea smiled wide. 

“I merely came to see how you were fairing, sister.”

Marcella knew better than to complain. 

“So Imelda didn't send you.”

“Why would she do that?” Rilea asked, tilting her head. “She has her hands tied at the moment, you know?”

She knew. There was never a lax day for the “Powers”, aside from library duty. Imelda was the Commander of their force, the same buzzkill who ‘promoted’ her. Marcella had hoped that she needed her back on duty. 

“What did you come up here for then?” The blonde asked, lowering her voice in disappointment. 

Rilea pouted. 

“Don't be broody. I told you I came to see you.”

Sure she did. Marcella turned and rolled her eyes, sauntering back to the desk. She leaned her arms on the tabletop and glanced at the redhead, whose hair was more a soft muted shade, then raised a brow.

“What have you heard?”

Rilea widened her grin and bounced on the toes of her shoes. 

“That you have an admirer.”

An admirer. Marcella frowned. Did she mean the pervert?

“That's an understatement.”

“Why say that? You're being unfair,” Rilea argued. 

She was bent out of shape about this for some reason. Suddenly, the realization hit Marcella like a bucket of ice water. 

“You know who it is, don't you?”

Rilea chuckled. 

“I sure do, but I'm not gonna tell you.”

How childish. Marcella turned up her baby blue eyes. 

“It's no skin off my back.”

“Then why did you want to know?” The redhead asked. She then widened her eyes and bounced in excitement. “You want to know because you are truly enamored by the idea of someone pining after you. That's so cute.”

Marcelle gave her an irritated look. 

“I want to know so I can report them for sexual harassment. ‘Looking good today, babe’, and ‘You look sexy in that dress’ is not a compliment.”

Was this person full of themselves?

“Noted,” Rilea declared. 

Marcella raised a brow. 

“I'll let him know. I mean…I don't know him personally but, Nera, my friend the Exorcist does,” she explained. “The only way to your heart is pure gentlemanly romance. I never took you as a big softy.”

“Or you could just tell him to leave me alone,” Marcella stated. 

She was not looking for a partner. All she wanted was to do her job.

Rilea stuck out her tongue.

“You're no fun, dear sister.”

Leaving shortly after to return to her post, Marcella was left alone again. Her thoughts wandered much to her dismay, to the pervert who had left sticky notes on her desk. Why did he like her? She was what the humans called a workaholic. It's all she ever knew; it's all her mother drilled in her head. 

A sigh of unease left her. 

Look at me now, grounded. 

Besides her cutesy, despondent appearance, what was there to like? 

At dusk, when the library closed, Marcella locked up and went home to her comfortable studio apartment. It was not much, but she loved the space. There was a big bay window right in her living area where she liked to sit and read, and then in her bedroom, across from it were her instruments.

One thing she loved about humans was their artistic talents, especially in terms of music. She bought a P-Bass after hearing her first riff, then also taught herself to play the violin; classical and rock - as the humans coined them - were her favorite genres. 

Such music became so loved in Heaven, within reason, that Marcella even joined a small band, Frisson, who played every once in a while in the square. Their last performance was a fortnight ago, and while she didn't play much, she did fill in for the lead vocalist and sang. Her voice was decent, not suited to bellow out a growl or a scream, but she handled their slower, sadder songs just fine. 

Since her Commander had benched her, perhaps she could get the band in agreement to play another gig soon. Marcella fell back onto her bed, spreading her wings, and sighed. She honestly had way too much time on her hands. 

“I need a new hobby.”

Tomorrow, she vowed to find one.

[starpros-sunshine]

I still think the more I think about it that sanctuary at it's core is a perfectly understandable reaction on Eichis part I mean have you read blackbird imagine being Eichi and experiencing that. I would also go insane if the guy that's stuck with me through weal and woe — who's been a main motivation for me to keep on living by being kind of the reason I fell in love with idols in the first place which is a fact about me that proceeded to shape the narrative at it's very core and who I'm so close to it makes other people uncomfortable sometimes, yet I feel like I don't know him at all and like there's this chasm between us still — just disappeared without any notice for a few days at least and then I find out he's hypnotized himself to play around with some boring kid from his theater circle because he wasn't able to do that as a child. Shakes you there are so many layers to the Sanctuary thing when you think about it of course Eichi was being eaten up by jealousy I would be too for god's sake imagine thinking you're getting closer to someone and then they pull a stunt like that. Why would he rather toy around with this boring weirdo who doesn't even know him like Eichi does that should've been Eichi stuck in that construction area with Wataru not Tomoya! It's only logical because Tomoya hasn't been through what they've been through together. And Eichi is petty and a menace and I still think it was overly dramatic and a tad bit of an asshole move to just leave Tomoya there because he was angry with him while Tomoya was just some guy roped into this without his will or knowledge but I get it. In a way I understand it. I think it's over the top but what is Eichi Tenshouin if not over the top and a little (or very) dumb sometimes and you know what they say about how love makes blind yeah I think that also applies to common sense there.

[ishouldsleepbut]

Hi! Guy who you reblogged from popping into your askbox with Words!

Good luck with the binder! Used ones are usually better from my (extensive) binding experience. I know it's tempting to want something that pushes everything down completely flat, trust me I get bothered too, but it's more unsafe+uncomfortable when it's that tight. I don't know your individual woes and I'm effectively just yelling into the void, but you are still doing something, you're flat enough. And hell, I've been able to pass without one for years even pre-T, and I'm not naturally flat at all.

If you do end up buying a binder of your own in the future, be wary of GC2B nowadays. Their newer binders 2020 and onwards are just terrible, which is a shame. I wish I still had my older half-tanks from them tbh. They were the pillar of binders before COVID, but it seems the trophy belongs to Spectrum Outfitters presently. I'd get a binder from them myself, but I have top surgery on the horizon, so... not really necessary.

Sorry for the little rant lol, I'm feeling extroverted today. You're doing great and I love you, from one internet stranger to another. It gets better.

oh my god hi! thank you so much for the words. i was also just shouting into the void and it's always fun when the void shouts back. ngl, today was a pretty fucky day with gender (good and bad at the same time, somehow) and i just needed some trans joy posts. turns out, yours was perfect lol.

good luck with top surgery my dudes, i'm really, really excited for you :DDD

[official-saul-goodman]

another banger post i’m afraid, not recognizing horror as sociopolitical in nature is a brain dead take i wish people would abandon.

i’m horrible at summarizing thoughts but i will TRY keeping things short- (after writing edit: did not keep things short)

horror to anyone should not simply be glorified gore or even something that makes you just a bit squeamish, something about horror for the sake of being ‘scared’ and not ‘horrified’ always rubs me the wrong way. some people who see the genre for the value it brings already fight against the praise of any cheap jumpscare, but that always feels like the main argument, that it should be ‘genuinely scary’ but not make them too uncomfortable, so it feels like people seem to just entirely and constantly miss the point of what horror is as an entire genre and mode of storytelling.

like i think horror isn’t supposed to just scare you, it is supposed to horrify you, just like you said!! most of the time when it comes to These White People who absolutely hate anything that isn’t digestible theres simply no ability- or even want- to sit with and untangle the discomfort. i always view horror as something cannot and never will escape the reality behind it, why it was made and what it’s doing and the feelings it evokes, so neither can the viewer, and mostly white people just have the choice of dismissing it and putting it out of mind.

also i just have an opinion that if someone cannot deal with the idea and discomfort of Real Things being depicted to them through layers of separation via fiction and narrative, it near 100% reflects just how disconnected from the real world issue being tackled they are, usually willingly so.

in the realm of media there’s this push from mostly white people that resists any depiction of racism as objectively bad and horrifying, or even any depictions of racism at all (historical/present/future even). it feels like everyone just wants oppression/anti-blackness/colorism/etc as very concepts to drift into silence somehow and disappear and not be an issue to think about. like somehow if we don’t depict racism ever at all in media then it’ll just… stop existing?? always feels like an undeniable mix of willful ignorance and no desire to learn literally anything other than what gets handed to them.

BIGGEST and final thoughts. a black and gay man becoming the face of IWTV trampled on what Louis’ character used to be- in the source materials he’s a plantation owner before a vampire. i genuinely don’t think i need to lay out how this is deeply intentional, or how even on a surface level this change is important to the adaptation, but i will sign off on the note that it’s a change that speaks to how the show is deliberately trying to speak about things in the present day, not just do a horror show about vampires, but a horror show that reflects more reality than Anne Rice’s book or the movie version following Louis and Lestat never had, what with the literal plantation owner protagonist doing the “woe is me and my white guilt” routine. dissolving into incoherent hatred for Anne Rice. ppl need to internalize why the story originated how it did, and why it had to be changed, how it’s stronger for those changes. overall, just how much more genuinely horrifying it is. i could keep going on about this forever actually, simply have to cut myself off here or i will send a full blown essay

I love that you started this ask off with 'another banger of a post I'm afraid' like I legit love that.

Also, all of this is true. Horror is meant to horrify not just scare, people need to understand that and learn to watch things that make them feel uncomfortable - especially when what's making them uncomfortable is the confrontation with the politics of racism. Like there's a reason why Louis was written as a black man in the show.

Fuck whatever the fuck Anne Rice wants we don't care about her or the preservation of her ideals cause she's just another insignificant racist white woman piece of shit.

Love you Peej!! Thanks for sending me essays always :)

[veliseraptor]

I wish you would write a fic where... Mo Xuanyu is rather taken with his older half brother’s crazy scientist friend doing fucked up experiments in the basement, and heads off from Koi Tower to go find him when he suddenly disappears, and thus never gets sent back to the Mo’s. (RIP the original Untamed post time skip plot. Hope the baby Labs make it out of Mo Manor okay)

Any other fuckery at your discretion 😉

oh man, I have never actually written Mo Xuanyu (for various reasons I find him really narratively uncomfortable in ways that are compelling but I don't tend to dwell on in my own creative work, I wrote a thing about this at one point but don't feel like digging it out of my blog archive right now), but I do find the concept of him and Xue Yang interacting generally really interesting. particularly because I feel like while Mo Xuanyu would be rather taken with his older brother's crazy scientist friend doing fucked up experiments in the basement (Mo Xuanyu is edgy and deeply fucked up, he decides to commit suicide by sacrificial ritual so he can sic cultivation world enemy #1 on his abusive family, to be clear he's valid for this), Xue Yang would mostly find Mo Xuanyu kind of entertaining.

it's be sort of like: he likes him, but in this very casual way where it's not like he'd be super upset if a fierce corpse ripped his head off. it'd be kind of too bad because he's funny but he wouldn't, like, put in the effort to resurrect him unless he was really bored. he's a little harder to wind up than Su She but his starry-eyed enthusiasm is adorable. etc. etc.

historically I have also really enjoyed the mental image of Mo Xuanyu going to Xue Yang re: his family woes and how much Xue Yang would be 100% on board "oh yeah kill all of them" as a concept and plan, he'd be so there for that, go for it Xuanyu have fun! and I'm also very much enjoying now the mental image of Mo Xuanyu wandering into Xue Yang's domestic Yi City life like a year or so in when Xue Yang's really settling into stuff and the scramble that's going to ensue for Xue Yang re: two lives colliding that he's not ready to have do that.

I'm not actually sure how this would work, but now I'm trying to conceptualize the dynamics between a Xiao Xingchen-Xue Yang-a-Qing-Mo Xuanyu household. I feel like it'd be even weirder than the three-person one was. I do feel like Mo Xuanyu could get into it, though, and it would certainly be potentially a better end for him.

I mean, at least until Song Lan shows up, then it's anybody's guess how things go down.

eta: @eicas found the post I was talking about feat. my thoughts on mo xuanyu! if anyone was interested.

[chumby4life]

Much-belated Xmas/New Year's Chronicle

Very late and very happy New Year to all :). I never actually use this blog for, well, actually blogging, so I thought why not. I can't be bothered to make a separate one, or just keep a diary for that matter, so this is what you get.

Christmas was pretty good. I spent the actual day of it working, but eh what you can do. I listen to other people's woes for a living, and I was completely expecting all of my conversations to be from people who were sad about the holidays. Suicide rates are highest that time of year, after all. Surprisingly, I saw none of that. It was just the usual problems you hear about - relationship/academic/financial struggles mostly. I guess maybe I was projecting my own dissatisfaction with the holidays onto my job haha.

Saw my mom and sisters afterward, I was happy to finally make enough money to get them nice gifts. Though seeing family always makes me a bit uncomfortable. I think my favorite gift this year was the Beerus S.H. Figuarts from my friend :)

For new year's I visited my college town to see my friends for the first time in a while. Being a homebody with a remote job, I usually am just dressed like crap, so it was a nice opportunity to dress up. My hair is severely unmanageable, so allow me some pride and vanity in showing it off.

You should see it in its natural state...Actually, you shouldn't lol. Ignore my flushed complexion - these were taken after a few drinks. I was very happy to see one friend in particular - we'll call her Birdie - she lets me crash on her couch every time I come to visit since graduating. Though I'd much rather sleep in her bed... Unfortunately, I'm too much of a coward to do anything about that. And I feel like I'm deluding myself whenever I get the sense that she feels the same way.

Anyway, it was fun to resume our little traditions. We saw a movie. We went to a bar we both like, I bought her drinks like the Supreme Gentleman I am. We got shots of a particular brand of whiskey like always - it tastes awful but it's just what we do, idk. Oh, my other favorite gift was this necklace she made for me:

ARGHH just look at that attention to detail! It's based off of Sonic - the blue, the little charms she said were supposed to be like Chaos Emeralds. So cute. And the way it can be worn multiple ways!! It's things like this that make me think maybe she reciprocates my feelings (even though she makes jewelry for our other friends as well). She's also kept a few really stupid things I did over time, things I didn't expect she would keep. One time in 2022 I drew a big tittied Sonic on my class notes - it was especially humorous given the subject matter of the notes. And the dumb shit I drew on her whiteboard she has yet to erase - the terrifying Wario and the Big Green Dub version of Turles (quoting the Big Green Dub was an inside joke in our friend group for a while).

Like, one has to wonder, why keep these things? Do you like me or something?? Are you gay, huh? I wish. I don't even have a clue if Birdie is anything at all - I wouldn't be surprised if she were ace or something given she never talks about it, and has never had a significant other, as far as I know.

The day of New Year's Eve, we went out with some other friends/acquaintances. Unfortunately there isn't much for students to do in Athens besides go out to drink. It's just weird reuniting with people from an earlier phase of your life, people who are the same as ever. Catching up, I listened to them talk about their bands, the shows they went to recently, their finals, etc. Things I would've been concerned with a year ago. Now all I do is work. I was touched at how they congratulated me when I told them what I was up to. "Abby and her big girl job", as they said. It's just kind of bittersweet, you know? I'm just a visitor amongst them now.

I fantasized about using the strike of midnight to my advantage with Birdie. About telling her how I felt, or maybe kissing her, idk. But in reality, it took me a certain amount of alcohol to work up the courage to even hug her. I'm such a coward. Anyway, I am definitely not built for college bars anymore, lol. They're always so packed and loud - not to mention my tolerance isn't what it was.

So yeah, that was my holiday time ramble. I know no one read it, but hey it's kind of fun to use your blog as an actual blog! Maybe this is something I'll do every couple months, idk. Though I don't usually have a lot going on tbh.