#This has been sitting in my drafts forever so I'm just gonna post it

[thistledropkick]

Here's a translation of the time Taichi tried to trade sushi to Desperado in exchange for photos of Desperado in panties.

The backstory: This all happened during May of 2020, while NJPW shows were shut down. Taichi did a livestream with Tam, which he only convinced her to do by promising to treat her to sushi.

The conversation starts with Taichi saying that in the video, there's a moment where you can see Tam's panties. (Also he censors the word "panties")

Despe:

What’s the timestamp?

Taichi:

Don’t just skip to that part!

If you want to know the timestamp then pay me.

Despe:

I have zero interest in the rest of this video!

Why should I have to watch a long video of you flirting with a girl!

And buy me sushi too!

Taichi:

If you want sushi too, then show me your p*nties too!

If you send me a magnificent pan*y photo, I’ll consider it

Despe:

A panty photo!?

Aren’t you being generous today!

Are you sure you didn’t mean to say an assh*le photo!?

OHHHKAY!

What’re we waiting for, let’s do this!

Taichi:

*sshole photos huh… I’ve seen too many of those, I’m completely bored of them. 

Hey, you said you’ll do it right? Don’t agree to this lightly okay?

Will you do it? Will you really do it?

Once you’ve said you’ll do this, you can’t go back on it. You understand?

So say it.

Will you show me a magnificent panty photo, the likes of which I’ve never seen before?

Well then, I can’t wait!

Despe:

I’ll take the photo tomorrow afternoon!

Prepare the sushi!

Tam (who they have been @ ing this entire time):

Please stop having this vulgar conversation in my mentions , ,

Taichi:

wtf is vulgar about it

Anyway you’re the one who started this by flashing your panti*s on the livestream!

So go buy Pe some sushi

Despe:

If I'm getting treated to sushi I don't care who's buying

but

who are you talking to?

-

Ohh sorry, I didn’t see your name there!

Panty-flashing girl

Tam:

Please don’t call me panty-flashing girl 😡

It’s Tam.

And why do I have to treat you to anything? I haven’t even eaten mine yet!

I was in line before you, Pe-san!

_

The next day:

Despe:

Why is a simple panty photo

And a selfie no less

So incredibly stressful to take…

Hey you in the next apartment, don’t look at me!

You may not know this but my panties have value (sushi)!

Do not report me! DO NOT!

[moe-broey]

Like how are you gonna be romance-repulsed while essentially functionally being a self-shipper. This IS a trick question but also it is undeniably an unfathomably stupid position to be in. And Yet

[timesomewhere]

in honour of the West End's next to normal closing today I've finally proof-read my 'things I noticed/general thoughts' post that's been sitting in my drafts since I saw it earlier this month. it's very long I'm very sorry.

Act One:

it was really fun watching this show in September given that there's two references to it in the first song

I adore the monologue about the pills that Dr. Fine gives during 'Who's Crazy'. it's rhythmic and funny yet also unnerving. It's such a quick and impactful way to summarise what Diana has been through for the past 16 years

Gabe does a 'one of your French girls' pose on the kitchen counter under the cabinets during 'My Psychopharmacologist and I'

Jamie Parker made direct eye contact with me during the last part of 'Who's Crazy' and it was one of the most intense experiences of my life

I might just be dense but I don't get the point of the neon sign that says 'Fine' which drops down during the Dr. Fine scene. Initially I thought that then one would drop down saying 'Madden' during his scenes to help people differentiate between the doctors but then it didn't so it just feels like a weird extra prop

speaking of random props, shout out to the iPad on the table in the opening scene which Gabe pretty much instantly takes away after telling Diana that she shouldn't obsess over tragic news stories and is then never seen again as far as I remember

Dan in the flashback scene being such an optimist about Diana's pregnancy and the future they're gonna have together... soul-crushing

Caissie Levy's 'I Miss The Mountains.' Holy Shit.

I love how Diana and Gabe are the only characters who sing on/stand on the table. it's as though it's this extra dimension of the house that only they have access to and it's a really neat and subtle way to show that they relate to each other in ways other characters don't

'It's Gonna Be Good' is so underrated. Jamie Parker's somewhat genuine optimism becoming optimism-through-gritted-teeth is incredibly acted

The way Jamie delivers the first line of 'He's Not Here' is devastating. the heaviness of that moment as you feel the audience around you realising what's just happened is something I'll remember forever

Gabe body-blocking Dan from Diana during 'I Am the One' is such good staging. People talk about how Jack Wolfe plays Gabe with a lot of layers and a lot of simultaneous contradiction and this song is one of the best examples of that. how Jack manages to project a character who is goading his father and protecting his mother at the same time is beyond me

also Jack has maybe half-an-inch on Jamie which obviously isn't something the actors control but it does makes Gabe seem just that bit more threatening when he's getting in Dan's face

for the first part of Superboy and the Invisible Girl when it's just Natalie singing, Gabe is actively laughing. He's totally unperturbed by her efforts to make herself seen to her mother. it's only when Diana replies, particularly when she says "you're our little pride and joy, our perfect plan" that you see his face drop and you see him trying to figure out a way to stop her from getting Diana's attention which then results in him kicking her off the melody in her own song

"I'll hurt you" being directed at Dan and "I'll heal you" being directed at Diana as Gabe gently touches her face gets me so bad. but the most painful part of 'I'm Alive' for me is when Gabe looks at Dan as he says "I'm the perfect stranger who knows you too well." that's the first time you realise that perhaps Gabe doesn't just impact Diana, and there's something much larger at play

Caissie and Jack W's voices harmonising on 'Catch Me I'm Falling' was one of my favourite parts of the whole show. Their voices are so magical together and their mother/son chemistry is incredible

The 'I Dreamed A Dance' into 'There's a World' sequence is one of the most tragically beautiful things I've ever witnessed. I went into the show knowing what Gabe was trying to achieve during 'There's A World' and yet Jack's voice is so beautifully haunting you totally forget you're supposed to root against Gabe in that moment

Jamie Parker's 'I've Been' is some of the best acting through song out there. Interestingly my friend and I had very different interpretation's of what Gabe's horrified reaction to the blood meant. I viewed it as him being upset about what he convinced Diana to do - he doesn't like seeing her hurt. Whereas my friend saw it as him being angry at himself that she didn't manage to follow through, meaning that he has failed to regain control over her life

'I'm no sociopath, I'm no Sylvia Plath. I ain't no Frances Farmer kind of find for you' is one of the best musical theatre lyrics of all time. I genuinely don't know why I Miss The Mountains is the 'big song' known from N2N over 'Didn't I See This Movie?', it's just so good

Natalie's 'She trusts you!' line is heartbreaking, I was basically watching that entire scene through my fingers because of how high the emotion was

Act Two:

'Pfizer's woman of the year' will in fact be peak comedy every time. Eleanor's delivery is *chef's kiss*

Gabe having just one line in 'Wish I Were Here', and that line being 'Wish I were here.' Yeah. I feel very normal about that.

Natalie's line of "Can I hide my stupid hunger, fake some confidence and cheer?" being pretty much exactly what Gabe has done throughout the entirety of act 1

"And you're not a scary rockstar anymore" got one of the biggest laughs at both of the shows I went to

Dan's desperation during 'Better Than Before.' He is simultaneously trying to cajole Diana into remembering and get Natalie to be more positive. This one song really highlights how he's being pulled in a million different directions while trying to hold it all together and Jamie portrays that so well

Aftershocks. Wow. The way the last word of each line echoes throughout the theatre is great sound design. I've been in exam halls louder than the audience during that song. Holding a room that captive as a silhouette is quite the feat Jack Wolfe you will always be famous

"I don't know where the fucking pieces go" as Diana pushes things off the table as if there's a real jigsaw there that she's rage quitting and choosing to give up on is such a nice detail

"Have you talked of your depression, your delusions and your son?" The gasp in the theatre both times was sickening

the response of "good' in reply to "name?" when technically that was part of his name as they are the "Goodmans". I don't really have a point here I just think it's neat

The 'It's Gonna Be Good" reprise was one of my favourite Dan/Diana moments. Caissie and Jamie are really pushing each other to their emotional limits and they handle it so well

The first "Why stay?" is so fragile as Diana sits against the kitchen island. Also interesting given that Dan and Gabe will also sit against there later when they are at their lowest point in the story. The idea of the characters crawling to the 'centre/heart' of the home when they are at their weakest

"This is one old game that I can play so well" is the line that has stuck the most with me throughout the show. Jack's delivery of it while striding across the kitchen table - seemingly totally invincible - is crazy.

how Caissie manages to deliver "you shrugged and said that no one really knows" with humour and desperation at the same time is amazing

When Gabe and Diana stand on the table and if they let go of one another they'll fall. yeahhhhh.....

Gabe's realisation that Diana isn't going to give up on getting better. Totally collapsing in on himself and beginning to cry. How you manage to feel bad for him after all the destruction he's caused is wild

Diana's "maybe I'm tired of the game" relating back to Gabe's "this is one old game that I can play so well"

the lyrics in 'Hey #3' clearly reflecting things Diana has done, Henry cutting Natalie off at "bleeding in the bathtub"

"I am the one who'll heal you" being said to Dan not Diana this time

"Why didn't you go with her?" is the most devastating line in the whole musical I said what I said. Jamie's delivery of it is heart wrenching

the drums and bass kicking in for the loud part of I Am The One as Gabe becomes desperate to be seen once again

Jack and Jamie's acting in this moment is so intense. there's a moment where it's genuinely feels as though only one of them can make it out of the interaction alive

Jack's emphasis on the word 'loved' in the line "I am the one who loved you" nearly killed me on the spot. how somebody can deliver a line so desperately while remaining pitch perfect is unfair

Natalie coming in to kiss Dan's head at the start of 'Light' like Gabe kisses Diana's in the first scene. I'm such a sucker for a gut punching

the "And are they real?" line about Diana's parent's from Henry gets such a loud reaction from the audience. Some people laugh immediately, some people clearly get shocked out of their sobs. so good

In conclusion, this is my favourite musical of all time and I'm going to be so annoying waiting for the pro-shot to come out

[zarla-s]

Man it's been a long time since I've done an ask cluster! Let's see if I can get some down...

He's an extremely fun character to write for and play with! So in that sense I'm fond of him, haha. He's such a huge disaster of a person, there's always something fun to do with him. Well "fun" in a relative sense.

I don't have anything to forgive him for, he didn't hurt me. |D He hurt the brothers!

I do have an idea for a cute feature inspired by Six-Eared Macaque! I should really sit down and do that already... and finish the one I half started but never finished...

I don't think my opinion on any of them changed! I love them all, haha. Which ones I drew comics about just depends on which ones I get ideas for really. Sometimes I get Alphys ideas and sometimes I get Goatparents ideas! Inspiration is fickle!

I don't have any solid plans or anything. :B Just gonna keep chugging along with silly comics and art! Work on Defrag and such. I'd like to finish a Ladyverse comic I've had lying around forever, and I had vague plans for doing a doujin for them too I could work on... and also seeing if I could format Handplates into a book format... I've always got a bunch of projects, haha.

It works on that level! It wasn't intentional though. |D

I do enjoy speculation! I don't really have much of my own though, I didn't predict anything in chapter 2 so now I'm assuming I can't predict anything in the future chapters either, haha.

Emesis Blue is great! Some really beautiful visuals in there, very striking! Love the mood of it too and a lot of the surreal imagery. I think it helped spur me back into TF2 again, haha. Medic and Scout's relationship was so cute.

I have thought about this! It has its share of challenges though... I outlined them more in this post. A pdf would be more doable though... could even include some extra stuff as well! Hmm...

I can see that! He'd probably spend as much time out in the rain as he could just doing whatever to stay outside.

It was pretty much always going to end like that. I always wanted it to end on a hopeful note! Which might seem weird with how dark it is at the beginning. I DID for a brief period at the very beginning of Handplates think about stopping with the Pacifist run, but that was only because I thought going where I wanted to go would take too long and already the project seemed so dauntingly huge at the time, haha. But it was always going to end in a positive way!

Gaster talks about what he originally intended to create here, and he explains a bit about the physical experiments he runs on the brothers here. They aren't really a solution in and of themselves so much as tools to try and find a way to break the barrier. Really though, Gaster got stuck in the sunk-cost fallacy lol.

I don't really have opinions about what canon Gaster would be like. |D Handplates Gaster is his own thing really. Canon Gaster, who knows! Deltarune Gaster, who knows! I will say I hope Gaster stays a mystery in Deltarune and never actually shows up but I think the odds of that are really low at this point.

I thought about doing a script along those lines! I did a few rough drafts of one, but it never really went anywhere... it'd end up dead-ending or kind of meandering off. I might see if I can get an actual script down for a side-comic or something in the future... it might be better suited for a fic.

I was just thinking about this lately! I was picturing Gaster totally forgetting about that until he sees Papyrus squinting and is like OH GOD YOUR EYES THAT'S RIGHT D: and goes to get him looked at lol.

I couldn't come up with a good idea for Flowey which is a shame, I do like him, haha. If one comes to me though I might make a little side comic about it!

Gaster's LV is complicated... his stats in-game are ludicrous if I recall correctly. Did he carry the damage from his murders into the void, even if those murders weren't his in the new timeline? Deep thoughts.

He fed them anything he could find, haha. Which is why sometimes they just ended up with chocolate bars (which he intended as dinner for himself). He probably fed them more often than he fed himself lol. He did feed them fairly regularly though.

Not about skeletons, probably. |D

Man I know I had an explanation for this but it was so long ago... it's hard for me to remember. It could be that the Riverperson is just weird and has weird insight into elements of things, had a prophetic dream... I don't know! It bugs me now that I can't remember this, haha.

[leolithe]

this has been sitting in my drafts forever so i'm just gonna post it!!! these are my Plural Lotus headcanons that are Integral to my interpretation of them

Lotus represents balance while Natah and Margulis represent extremes, but she also represents Acceptance in The Sacrifice. So it makes sense that Lotus is the most passive, or "watching and waiting" one of the three

Lotus is also the most withdrawn and cautious one because she's the one who holds the trauma of every event leading to The New War. From her kidnapping in Apostasy Prologue, she was Lotus-turned-Margulis. From the Sacrifice to her death in New War, she was Lotus-turned-Natah.

After holding back Wally, Lotus fainting was a direct result of realising that the war was over. That she was finally free. That she could finally get the rest she desperately needed. And her entire body took that realisation and completely shut down. The need for rest was that dire.

This is when Natah and Margulis start to awaken. In the epilogue, when the Operator and Drifter are asking Lotus Radiant questions, Natah and Margulis also answer at the same time, each with their own insight and inflections. This is what leads to Lotus saying that she hears voices.

Natah was just as dead as Margulis when her body was reprogrammed. (Jovian Concord monologue: "I became a memory, a ghost"). Therefore, Lotus was formed from a blank slate of a (powerful) Sentient husk and Margulis' memory.

Natah, being the Sentient body personified, is able to access everyone's memories at will. She can also read everyone's minds, while still being able to focus perfectly on the present/outer world. She uses this to watch over Lotus and monitor her wellbeing.

Natah hates accessing or reading Margulis' mind though. She does not enjoy the imperfect, inaccurate, messy nature of Human memory. So she leaves Margulis alone for the most part.

Because she sees everyone's memories, Natah is the first to realize that she was formed to protect the Lotus. She takes the role of prosecutor, and she's very fiercely protective. Natah places much more weight in remembering the trauma rather than suppressing it like Margulis did.

Margulis is someone Lotus remembers for caring for and loving the Tenno, so she was formed with the intent of having a caretaker in the Lotus system. She's best at grounding Lotus, whispering soothing words to her and generally being a gentle and comforting presence.

There is very clear friction between the way Natah and Margulis handle their roles. Natah's decisiveness can be pushed into being cutthroat and stubborn, and Margulis' healing can veer into unrealistic idealism. Natah doesn't like how Margulis encourages Lotus to neglect her traumatic memories, and Margulis doesn't like Natah's insistence on forcing her to remember. They both think the other is pushing back Lotus' progress; Natah by intentionally surfacing painful memories and Margulis by exposing Lotus' weak points to the same aggressor again.

Very much a fight between, "If you don't remember how it damaged you, it will always happen again" vs "It will never happen again, you're safe and free to live like it never did"

Natah vs Margulis isn't only about Power vs Healing/Destroying the enemy vs Protecting your allies... it's about Remembrance vs Oblivion in regards to distress and trauma.

Lotus gets intermittently pulled around by these two for a while, until Margulis' comforting lies become unignorable and Natah's ruthlessness becomes unbearable. And when Lotus finally snaps and asserts herself to them... it's a wake up slap to both Natah and Margulis. This marks the point where they start quietly trying to work together... pushing past their rivalry to then FINALLY. Explore each other's bodies. Sentient-Human headmate style.

Thank you for reading. I can go on and on but I'm just gonna leave u with the mental image of Lotus walking in on Natah and Margulis having ravenous floor sex because they've actually never fucked a woman in their lives and they're not normal about it

[blue-thief]

Ok. Thoughts on the Itoshi Sibs / their parallels with Isagi?

HELLO this took forever for me to answer because summer school and the sadness. as you know.

also i went too crazy with tying blue lock into my fixation with japanese nationalism so it got way too complex and i got scared but now i'm just gonna make that its own post (<- said the same thing about bsd. that analysis about bsd's connection with japanese nationalism has been sitting in my docs for a year now i think)

(smh this is what happens when the japanese imperial army almost wipes out your entire bloodline /gen /srs)

anyway. all that waiting to say that rin is... just some guy to me

usually a fw anime boys named rin. esp if they're the sworn rival of the plain protagonist. not necessarily this one though

i have no clue why he doesn't scratch my brain properly. he just doesn't. i need to spend a good three hours staring at the ceiling at night to figure that out

when you first sent me this i didn't really care for sae much either. now i do

that's how long this has been sitting in my drafts 😃😃

(i've written and scrapped thousands of words for this ask sob sob)

(this answer wasn't even formatted this way originally)

i've probably told you the story of how sae grew on me before but like

i don't plan out my fics right

i do play out random scenes in my head to test out if i like them or not

(shivers because updating my fic is another thing that is taking forever.......)

and i was just fucking around with random jokes kaiser and sae could say to each other

then i imagined sae smiling

and i was like "what the fuck... why is that so endearing........"

that was the turning point but it really was a lot of sitting and contemplating sae's character honestly

to really understand him and why he'd be friends with kaiser

and sae is kinda just like me frfr

that guy can't do anything other than soccer/football. he has nothing going on beyond that

and yeah. yeah... i get that.......

it's the reason why i like a bunch of other bllk characters but it's most pronounced with sae yk

(SORRY MR. SNUFFY)

and like. just his inability to be a normal fucking person 😭😭 too real

anyway those are my general itoshi brothers thoughts

now for the parallels part.

(this is the part that killed me and i wanna go more in-depth. but i'm saving that for another post. because holy shit my original idea was so fucking ambitious)

i had other thoughts and god i wish i wrote that stuff down

but the major thing i want to get into here is dependence

isagi is independent. soo independent it's kinda crazy

this was outlined most during the second selection with bachira where he had to learn to play by himself

meanwhile there's rin who seems independent on the surface

however, rin has always been dependent on sae in one way or another

when they were younger, rin was dependent on sae to take care of and guide him

rin also depended heavily on sae on the field

now that they are older, sae's attempt to shake rin off has just made rin's dependence on sae even more intense, just in a different way

rin's only motivation to play soccer/football had been to "crush" sae

...but now he's met isagi

and his obsession has found a new object

with the recent chapters, now we know he places isagi and sae on a similar level in his personal hierarchy, and his desire to destroy sae has bled into rin's feelings toward isagi

while rin has only one rival, the same can't be said for isagi

isagi gains rivals like pokemon, and while they have all played a significant roll in isagi's development as a person and a character, his obsession doesn't consume him. in the PXG vs BM match, he's doesn't fully comprehend the effect he's had on kaiser and rin

and mannn i wish i could find this analysis, but it's gone now

but someone compared isagi's desire to "devour" to rin and nagi's desire to "kill"

I WISH I COULD REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT THEY SAID

but from what i remember, "devouring" someone is temporarily defeating them, but both parties ultimately improve so there's room for them to meet again and help each other improve even more

however, "killing" someone is defeating them completely so they're never able to play/improve ever again

which outlines the fact that while isagi can be a little bitch on the field, he wants his rivals to improve alongside him, and in the end, he wants the best for people (in terms of soccer/football)

which is why he never became overly-dependent on bachira and why he treats midfielders as actual human beings 😭😭

isagi is independent, but he pushes for the people around him to be just as independent

the itoshi brothers are different though

rin is codependent on sae, and you could say his hatred/obsession with isagi is a different type of codependency

but that thing about treating midfielders as human beings...

uh. that doesn't really apply to rin

sae is somewhat similar with how he "tamed" shidou but it's not THAT imbalanced lmao

there's also how the three of them are on different places of the striker-midfielder spectrum

in-universe and within the fandom, rin is perceived as japan's ultimate striker. his raw shooting power + metavision makes him perfect for this position.

however sae, another metavision user, is the perfect midfielder

then there's isagi who's tried emulating rin's play style at first but is ultimately most similar to sae, leading people to say that isagi is better suited to be a midfielder rather than a striker

while rin represents what the ultimate japanese striker is, something isagi is trying to reach, sae's path is one that isagi could easily fall down instead

many people have theorized that sae became a midfielder to improve rin's chances at becoming a better striker. sae may be considered to have a strong ego, but if this turns out to be true, that might not be the case lmao

errm. idk how to end this off. sorry for the wait sob sob

[huckleberrykai]

choi yeonjun ~ are you still watching?

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader summary: after a long tour away from his baby, yeonjun doesn't wanna pay attention to the netflix show you were watching. genre: SMUT! 18+ only minors dni warnings: blowjob, lots of pet names, fem reader, reader has long hair ? is also called a girl notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for like forever lol, i'm tryna get better at writing smutty stuff but idk if i like this 😭 here it is anyway since i haven't posted in forever word count: 0.9k click here for my masterlist!

when yeonjun got back from tour, you invited him over to stay for the weekend. it's hard not being able to see him for long periods of time, but it makes the reunion just that much sweeter.

the second you opened the door to his rhythmic knocks he engulfed you in a warm hug. you nuzzled your face into his neck and breathed in the scent of your home - him.

you let out a meek "i missed you." as he landed a kiss on your head. "i missed you too baby." he mumbled into your hair.

you both got comfortable on the couch in your cozy clothes and cuddled into each other while putting a show on Netflix.

a few episodes in, yeonjun's hands started to wander. you shivered as his cool hands slipped up under your hoodie to massage your tummy, slowly moving further and further up. as much as he missed your cuddles, he missed you in other ways too ~

"junnie.. you're gonna miss the episode," you whined. yeonjun couldn't care less, which he showed when he opted to latch his lips to your neck and run his fingers up to your breasts instead of paying attention - smirking when he realised you weren't wearing a bra.

"jun-" you protested as he toyed with your nipples, sensitive over the lack of attention they'd received over the past month.

"please baby... missed you so bad... " he mumbled into your neck, massaging your chest in his warm hands. "mmm, missed you too baby. sit back." you caved. you gently pushed him to sit on the couch while you crouched in front of him ~ he always thought you looked so pretty on your knees.

you slowly untied the strings of his sweatpants and pulled them down, teasing him with your snail's pace movements. "babyyy," he groaned, making you giggle and pull his pants down quicker.

"already half hard and i haven't even done anything, really missed me hm? it's okay junnie~ i'm here to help now," you whispered, stroking him over his boxers. he was getting antsy, and started pulling them down himself. "ah ah- slow down baby, wanna take my time 'n make you feel good."

he sighed dramatically, but he knew it would be worth it. "m'kay."

you pulled his boxers down and let his now fully hard cock spring free, tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking with precum. "so pretty, m' favourite cock," you licked a long stripe up the base and smirked at him, "taste so good. missed sucking your cock junnie~"

a strangled moan escaped his lips as he looked down at you, his pretty baby rubbing his dick. he could look at this forever <3

"here baby," you looked up to see him handing you the hair tie he keeps on his wrist for you. "can't see your pretty face, wanna watch you choke on my cock pretty girl."

you couldn't help but rub your legs together for some relief at his dirty words, and you tied your hair back quickly so you could return to the task at hand. you licked a few teasing stripes along his shaft before taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue - just how he liked it.

"fuck.. baby, further.. mm, good girl."

his hand found your messy ponytail and pushed you gently, encouraging you to take his whole length into your mouth. "so good, i love your throat baby, fuck," he murmured. "so so pretty gagging on my cock like that."

you began to bob your head, guided by yeonjun's hand gripping your hair. "that's it pretty, perfect." you pushed past the tears pricking your eyes, blowing him just as he taught you - pretty mouth custom-made just for him. one of your hands was occupied at the base of his cock, so you brought your free hand up to cup and squeeze at his balls, pulling a long groan from him.

"not gonna last long baby, gonna fill your pretty mouth up," he mumbled, throwing his head back on the couch and shutting his eyes, lost in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth - sounds of the tv long ignored, covered by the wet sounds of you sucking him off.

"gonna cum baby, keep going.. right there fuck.. 'm cumming princess~"

you pulled away a little as you felt long spurts of his thick cum shoot down your throat, pulling off with a pop as he released one more spurt right onto your tongue, mouth open for him to watch you take whatever he'd give you. you pumped him with your hand a couple more times, draining him of every last drop before you swallowed it all down, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to show him it was all gone.

"good girl, always so good for me." he pulled up his pants and pulled you up to sit on his thighs. "what do you say we go to bed and i return the favour hm princess?" he asked, licking his lips and raking his eyes over your body, then trailing back up to your eyes.

and who would say no to such a tempting offer?

you giggled while he lifted you up, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, walking you over to the bedroom - tv show long forgotten and the screen displaying "are you still watching?"

the two of you had seemed to find other ways to unwind for the night <3

nsfw taglist!: @subbyjvnnie @mazeinthemoon @n0-thisispatrick @banggyu0308 

[baalzebufo]

One Star, Brighter than the Rest

y'know what. im probably not gonna get around to writing more of this because im lazy but if it sits in my drafts forever nobody will see it so im posting this fic/drabble/thing. THIS IS for my demon gideon au.

Gideon, at the end of his rope, calls Bill to make a deal. But Bill has bigger plans. Much bigger plans.

---

‘I'm finally ready to make a deal.’

The walls of his solitary cell seemed to shift then, as the buzzing in his ears grew into a wild cacophony of laughter. Gideon stumbled backwards away from the chalk sigil on the wall, his vision blurring and swimming as the dream came into being. The crude drawing seemed to pulse, its single eye blinking. Then, a massive beam of light- Gideon shielded his eyes, and the moment his vision returned he was hovering there before him. Bill Cipher.

‘WELL, WELL, WELL! Look who came craaaawling back!’

---

The triangle squinted at him, throwing his hands up and watching the child flinch at his voice. Gideon felt his back pressed against the cold stone wall of his cell. He had no time to respond before Bill sprung forward.

‘Geez, you look haggard, shortstack! What's wrong, the warden giving you trouble again?’ His tone was mocking- his tone was always mocking. ‘One of your prison buddies finally got fed up and try to shank you? Oh, wait, my bad. That’s supposed to happen next week! Haha!’

Gideon swallowed hard. He couldn’t let Bill get to him. He had summoned HIM- he’s the one in control. He wasn't playing second fiddle to Bill, not now, not ever. He balled his hands up into fists and steeled his nerves, stepping forward with his nose in the air.

‘Listen to me, demon! I called you here because I- I want to make a deal!’ He glared up at Bill with an unearned confidence. ‘You messed up my plan last time, but I'm givin’ you one last shot to prove yourself to me! Y'all're gonna break me out of this joint!’

Bill's eye widened then, before he threw himself backwards into the air with laughter. Gideon seethed. His arms shook as he puffed himself up, standing on his toes. ‘Are you LISTENING to me? Do you want to make a deal or not!?’

He grit his teeth until Bill calmed down, wiping a tear from his eye.

‘Ohhh, kid! You're KILLING me here! You’re really killin’ me!’ He shook himself from side to side, tutting disappointedly. ‘I gotta say, your lack of imagination would be funny if it wasn't so sad, Gideon.’

‘My-’ All at once, rage flared up inside him. ‘WHAT?’ He roared, fully ready to throw one of his tiny fists into the ‘face’ of that smug isosceles jerk-

‘Don't you GET IT, KID?’ He hovered down to Gideons level, put one arm around his shoulders and tugged him in close. ‘You got a personal genie right here, and all you wish for is to get outta prison? Did you even READ my entry in that book you had? You’ve got NO idea what I’m capable of, and here you are, askin’ me for something you could do with one lousy prison riot.’

He patted Gideons shoulder softly. ‘Look, I get it! You’re probably just worn out from all that hard prison labor, aren’t ya? Your mushy little human brain isn’t working right! So I'll cut you some slack just this once. After all, we’re buddies, aren’t we? Haha, yeah we are.’

Gideon froze up, pushed himself out of Bills grasp. He squinted- then frowned. What was he getting at, here…?

‘What are you ramblin' about?’

Bill's laugh cut through him again. ‘You gotta think BIG, shortstack. Sure, I could help you outta this jail, or I could give you the power to do it yourself. I could make you just like ME!’ Bill threw wide his arms and little sparkles flew from his palms.

Gideon blinked, his jaw slightly agape. Bill took his stunned silence as an excuse to carry on his pitch.

‘I've been working on something special while you've been away, and I've got it all figured out! I could make you a bona-fide demon, kid! You could get my powers with all the perks. Think about it- getting into the nightmares of everyone who's ever crossed you, tormenting their every waking moment! Phenomenal cosmic power, right?'

'You're basically the perfect candidate, too. I mean, look at you-' He gestured vaguely at Gideon- for once in his life, speechless. 'You're almost crazy enough for it. I mean, hey, I saw that time you nearly gutted Pine Tree with those shears! In front of his sister, no less! That was DE-LUXE, kid. No hesitation. You've got the murderous ambition to really go far.'

'Honestly, you're probably the only person in this lousy town who could HANDLE this kind of power. So hey, just this one time, let me make YOU a deal you can't refuse! Haha!'

Bill blinked at him- ‘Wink!’ and held his hands out wide. If he had a face, Gideon could tell there would be the biggest toothy smile plastered on it. He swallowed.

Bill was dangerous. He knew this much. He knew you should never- ever- trust a demon at it's word. And yet...

‘You're insane.’ He muttered, shaking his head. ‘You can't do that, it- it just ain't possible.’

‘Gideon, REALITY IS AN ILLUSION. What's ‘possible’ is whatever I WANT to be possible!’ Bill drifted, floating upside down as he spoke. ‘I defy the laws of nature just by EXISTING, so who's to say I can't do anything I want? You're talking to a criminally insane triangle, kid! Start BELIEVING. Here, let me help you.’

Bill snapped his fingers, a teal flame shooting up from his hand and forming a portal of sorts- within it, figures started to form. Gideon saw…

He saw himself.

He saw himself laughing. He was wreathed in flame yet somehow still cast in shadow in the middle of a chalk pentagram, his five-pointed star burning bright. Gravity Falls around him lay in ruins. He stood in the burning husk of what was once the Mystery Shack. The Pines lay crumpled, crushed beneath burning timbers. The smell of ash and blood thick in the air.

And hovering before him, as if in a deep fairytale sleep, was Mabel.

Sweet, sweet Mabel.

He saw a vision of his victory. All the power he had ever wanted coursing through his veins. Everyone who had ever slighted him was dead by his hand. And his only love- she was all his, forever.

His vision reached out, took her hand so gently. He could almost feel her hand in his, her skin so… so soft. He hadn't felt it in so long. His hands shook, and he reached out.

And then, the vision erupted back into flames with the click of Bill's fingers.

Gideon stood, spellbound, holding a breath he didn't think he could let go. The teal flames still flickering in the back of his mind.

‘Yup, I knew you'd pick up what I was puttin’ down, kiddo.’ Bill flipped himself upright and straightened his little bow tie.

‘It’s about time you got everything you deserve, isn't it?’

All at once, Gideon seemed to snap out of his stupor. He blinked, shook his head. He took a step back again, swallowing down the lump in his throat. No- no… this had to be too good to be true. The devil was a tempter, he knew this much. But if there was a chance- the smallest chance- that this future could come to pass... He hardened his expression as best he could, trying to gain back his swiped upper hand.

‘But wait.. what would you get outta all of this? There's no way you'd be helpin’ me just outta the ‘goodness of your heart’… if you even have one of those.’

‘HAHA! You got me there!’ Bill swiped at him playfully. ‘But I'll have you know I have at least NINE hearts, and several other heart-adjacent organs! Wanna see?’ He wiggled his fingers before sticking one hand straight down into himself- a horrific CRACK sounded along with a spray of what looked like television static, a horrible thick black something trickling out to the floor down his arm- up to the elbow in his chest. It took all of Gideon's willpower not to scream.

‘Answer the question!’ He snapped. Bill huffed, let his hand flop out of his body- the relief when he didn't drag some sort of horrific organ out was palpable. He brushed himself down, the wound closing as easily as it had appeared.

‘Okay, sheesh! Keep your hair on.’ Bill rolled his eye, leaning forward. ‘Obviously, I wouldn’t do it for free. We can do a trade. I’ve got some stuff I need to finish up in the physical realm, see. So I’d just-’ He mimed jumping with his fingers. ‘- hop on into your body for a bit. Temporary possession.’

‘My body-!?’ Gideon clasped his hands over his heart, realizing his back was pushed against the wall again. Bill wanted to POSSESS him?

‘Yeah! Geez, you look like you’re going to pop an ulcer, kid. You wouldn’t be in it, obviously!’ He scoffed. ‘We take you out, put me in, you get all my powers an’ I get to use your chubby little hands to finish some personal business. I won’t even keep it that long. Think of it like a vacation! And when I’m done with it, you get my powers for keeps. There’s basically no downside!’

Bill floated down to the floor and folded his hands together. He shrugged. 'It's all up to you now, kid.'

Gideon got very quiet. He took in a deep breath, then hopped up to sit on the edge of the metal slab they called a ‘bed’ in here. He fiddled with the fringe of his blanket, chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought. Bill was surprisingly silent as he watched him struggle with this. Then, he hopped up next to him on the cot.

‘Listen to me, Gideon. You've always known you were different, right? I mean, hey. You were born a freak. I get it! I was born a freak in my world, too.' Gideon frowned, but Bill held one hand up to stop him from interrupting.

'I GET it. They only call us freaks 'cause they can't handle that we might be BETTER than them. It happened to me once- now it's happening to you too. They want you to roll over and conform, to bury your head in the sand and be ''normal''. Well, that ain't gonna happen!'

‘And it's because fate had something bigger in store for you. Why do you think you were born different? Why do you think you're so much smarter than everyone else here? Hell- why do you think YOU found that journal in the woods, and not one of the village idiots?'

'It wasn't dumb luck, Gideon. It was fate.' Bills voice grew... darker. More intense. It prickled at the fear response in Gideon's head, and yet... he found himself entranced, somewhat.

'I saw you had potential. I knew you were destined to do more than sell cars, grow old, and die. You could be so much more. So I kept my eye on you until I knew you were ready for it. Now's the time, Gideon. I see EVERYTHING.'

He looked up- Bill was hovering in front of him, now. His eye was glowing with a vision of the void. Within its depths, universes swirled. Galaxies shifted in their positions. And at its heart he could see one star, shining brighter than the rest.

‘And you can see, too. All you need to do is-

shake.

my.

hand.’

He extended his arm forwards, and it erupted in a familiar cold blue flame.

‘And I'll show you.’

…

Gideon swallowed hard. Nothing good would come of this. He was making a pact with a demon. One that had ended poorly, before- how badly would it end THIS time? What if Bill was lying? What if their plans were foiled before completion? What if, what if, what if, part of him repeated.

But the other part of him… the selfish, cold, cruel part of his heart burned brighter than ever. Ever since his amulet and his journal had been taken away and he had been thrown into this cell, he’d felt powerless. He had crawled his way up from being ostracised, weak, and alone to basking in fame and fortune. And then it had all been taken away.

No longer loved, and barely even feared. What did he have in here? A handful of schmucks who gave him their seconds in the mess hall? How long would it be then, until THEY tired of him, too? They’d cast him aside eventually. And then he would have nobody and nothing but a cold, dark cell and a life to regret.

He needed that power back. No- he needed more. He needed enough to wrestle the world back into his hands. To know that all he had to do was will it, and it would be crushed back into stardust.

His eyes were cold. He looked up.

‘It’s a deal.’

He took Bill's hand.

.

.

.

[weepingfromacedartree]

Surviving the AO3 Drought

Hi friends!

We're coming up on almost an entire day of AO3 being down. Since I'm sure most of you are like me and going insaneee with the blackout, I wanted to share this incredibly ROUGH draft of chap 1 of my current Polin WIP for anyone desperate for content.

A few warnings:

This fic is nowhere NEAR being done (emphasis on this being a ROUGH draft). It will most likely be a few months until I start posting the finished chapters.

This chapter (and the fic in general) deals with issues like grief and neglectful parenting, so TW for anyone who might not want to read about that.

Most of this chapter depicts Penelope and Colin as children. It was annoying to write. Might be annoying to read. I promise, they're teens/adults in all future chapters.

I do not condone children taking in stray cats and keeping them as pets. This fic is not meant to be a tutorial of any sort.

Ok if I didn't scare you off... please enjoy!!

Chapter 1: First Pet

Today: April 29th, 2023

Relationship Status: Dating (Semi-Secretly)

꙳

“Gregory just texted to ask if we’re dating. I didn’t think he had my number.” 

“That little arsehole probably sent it to himself when he stole my phone.”

It’s Saturday. Penelope and Colin are sitting on the floor of his flat, a few containers of chinese food littered between them. It’s not a particularly unusual setting to find either one of them on a Saturday night. However, some things are different now. 

Two weeks ago, they would not have been playing footsie. Not this shamelessly, at least. 

“I assumed that Eloise’s ‘vow of secrecy’ would involve her immediately telling Benedict… And that Benedict would tell Anthony… And that Anthony would tell Kate… But I don’t know how the rumour managed to spread to Cambridge in���” She glances down to her phone again. “Six hours flat.” 

“‘Rumour?’” he echos, a smirk on his face. “Surely, you’re not trying to keep this sordid love affair hidden from me as well.”

“‘Sordid?’ God, Colin. You make us sound so dirty.” She kicks his foot away, turning her attention back to the shrimp fried rice. “And I’m not trying to keep it from anyone. We both knew what would happen the second I told El.” 

“Frankly, I’m surprised Greg didn’t text you sooner.”

Colin tries fixing his attention on the kung pao chicken in hand, but it unsurprisingly wanders. 

“So… What are you gonna tell him?” 

Penelope quirks an eyebrow, a look of uncertainty making a quick appearance on her face. 

“Well… I was going to hold him in suspense a little while longer. Maybe take the ‘no comment’ approach at first. Then — I don’t know — the truth?”

“Which is?”

Colin watches as uncertainty turns to downright confusion. 

“Yes?”

Internally, Penelope wonders if Colin is teasing, or if there has been a miscommunication of monumental proportions between them. The look on his face confounds her, though. Neither option seems to be the correct one. 

“‘Dating’ is a bit too casual a word for us, I think.” 

Penelope’s confusion fades away as a familiar tingling sensation lights up her stomach. 

“It’s only been a week. What do you suggest we call —”

“We should get married.” 

“What!?”

He’s teasing. He’s teasing. He’s —

“I said we should get married.” 

Penelope waits for him to expand on this insane notion, but all she gets is that smug little smirk. 

“Okay. Why?”

“Why does anyone get married?” Colin says matter-of-factly. “I love you. I wish to continue loving you forever and ever. Ergo, marriage.” 

“This isn’t funny.” 

“It wasn’t a joke.”

“It —”

“It was a proposal.”

“Colin.” She uses the sternest voice she can manage to muster up, which happens to be quite shrill at the moment. 

“Pen.” At least he has the decency to drop that stupid smirk. He also drops his kung pao chicken, leaning forward to place a hand on her knee. 

“Just, think about it for a moment. We didn’t meet a week ago, we just finally said the thing we should have told each other a decade ago — at least. I’ve been in love with you forever. ‘Dating’ you just feels like an unnecessary step to the rest of forever.” 

Penelope feels at war with herself. At her core, she is sensible. Logical. Reasonable. She knows — objectively — that skipping straight from friendship to marriage is illogical and senseless. 

But is it truly reasonless?

At her core, Penelope is also a romantic. A willing fool. An idealist against her better judgement. And in her heart, she holds twenty years worth of love for Colin. Would it really be so crazy —

Shaking her head ever so slightly, Penelope tentatively — regretfully — brushes his hand off her knee. At the loss of her touch, Colin’s lip juts out in a pout. 

“People date for a reason. It’s an institution — it has a purpose. It’s like a test run for marriage. Different than friendship. Teaches you different things about a person — things that set you up for a successful lifetime together.” 

“Friendship is not so different than dating. At least, not the way we did it.” 

“Colin —”

“You’re right, Pen. Dating is like a trial period where you decide whether or not the person you love is suitable enough to spend the next lifetime beside. You —”

“Do I really sound that unromantic?” she interrupts. Something about hearing her words on his lips makes them sound so clear. 

Colin laughs. “I think pragmatic is the word you’re looking for. But seriously, can you name a single thing you don’t know or feel unsure about me as a partner, after twenty years of friendship? What’s holding you back, Pen?”

Nothing. That’s the truth. There’s not a single thing about Colin that she feels unsure of. Not anymore.

But still… Even if there love has lasted decades, that sense of assuredness has only existed between them for a week. She’s spent more time wrestling on whether or not to cut bangs (and the answer always ends up being not). 

Still…

“Let’s consult the experts.” His words break her from the daze Penelope hadn’t realised she fell into. In those few measly seconds, Colin’s eyes broke away from hers and has rested on the phone gripped in both of his hands. 

“What are you doing?” she asks him. Her voice sounds far away. 

Colin taps something on his phone, out of view from Penelope’s curious eyes. Then he clears his throat. 

“Ten milestones every couple should celebrate before walking down the aisle,” he reads aloud. “Number One: Your First —”

“What are you doing?” Penelope asks again. This time, a laugh escapes her lips as she does so. Something about the seriousness on Colin’s face reminds her of the absolute absurdity of this situation. That it is a joke, even if it was intended as such. 

“I know you think this is all very funny, but I’m being serious. I know you better than anyone else in the world — you know me better than I know myself! I have loved you more than half my life and spent so much time delaying the inevitable. Why waste any more of our time by ‘dating’ one another? It just seems silly.” 

Colin stops ranting briefly, as if to allow Penelope to get her rebuttal in before he has the chance to make his point. When she stays silent, she can’t help but notice a hint of a smile crawl back up his otherwise serious face. 

“And while I know the romantic in you is buzzing to say yes and run down to city hall right now, I know the realist in you needs some convincing.” He briefly holds up his phone to display the article he pulled up. “So we will go through this list, which details everything you need to accomplish during the dating stage of a relationship. If, at the end, we realise that we checked off every single to-do item while we were still just friends, we will make the reasonable decision to get married.” 

If there’s one thing Charming Colin Bridgerton can do, it’s make a convincing argument. The realistic and romantic on each of Penelope’s shoulders suddenly go quiet.

“And where exactly did you find this scholarly article you are basing such a life-altering decision on?” 

He looks down. 

“TheMarriageExpert.blogspot.com” 

“Colin!” 

“They’re an expert, Pen!” 

After her giggles finally let up, Penelope sighs. He has convinced her to play more tedious games before…

“Fine. You have yourself a deal, Bridgerton. What’s first on that list of yours?” 

Finally, that serious expression on his face drops completely. He grins at her in that way that always makes Penelope’s heart skip a beat. 

“Number One: Your First Pet As a Couple,” he reads aloud. “During the course of your marriage, you and your partner will come to share many things together. Finances, homes, memories, and a million other things you cannot even begin to fathom now. A pet will help you prepare for those shared responsibilities. It will teach you both about the importance of…”

As Colin continues reading, a frown pulls at the tips of Penelope’s lips. When he finishes, she attempts to cover her disappointment with a shallow laugh. 

“Game over, I guess.” 

His eyebrow arches. “Pardon?” 

“We’ve never shared a pet, so…”

Colin’s mouth falls open. He pulls his free hand to his chest, underscoring the aghast look on his face. 

“Pen… Did Mr. Whiskers mean nothing to you?”

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

Twenty Years Earlier: July 21st, 2003

Relationship Status: Sister’s Best Friend // Best Friend’s Brother

꙳

How did I get here again?

It’s Monday. The first real day of summer holiday. For most kids, that means the start of freedom. Six weeks of fun, followed by real life crashing down on them when the fall term begins. But for Penelope, it means the loss of structure. For six weeks, it is up to her to determine how — and more importantly, where — she spends her time. 

She didn’t want to spend it at home. Not this morning, at least. So she went to Grosvenor Square. 

At just eight years old, there aren’t many places Penelope can run off to unaccompanied. Even the Square, just two blocks away from her home, is hard to get away with. Her mum only allowed it because she was under the impression that Eloise would be joining her — that between Penelope’s sense and Eloise’s toughness, the two girls would be safe in the nearby park. But when Penelope ran across the street, she learned from Anthony that Eloise was not available for a morning stroll in the square. 

She could have just gone back home, but she really, really didn’t want to. So she went to Grosvenor Square. Alone. 

She was walking around the park, careful not to step on any cracks in the concrete. She moved to the grass when she realised that everyone was walking around her (even for an eight-year-old, her legs are rather short); she did not want to pull too much attention to herself and have someone question where her parents are. 

She was listening. To the birds chirping. To the nearby traffic. Mostly, to the people. 

Two teenagers were fighting. She was mad, he was sorry. She said something about him cheating, but after that, their shouts turned to whispers and Penelope couldn’t make out the rest. She wondered what type of exam he could have cheated on.

A little white dog barked at her. His owner looked apologetic. 

A neighbour of hers walked past her, pushing a stroller. Penelope thought about hiding behind the nearest tree, certain that Mrs. Abernathy would notice her and say something. Thankfully though, the baby started crying and distracted her. 

Just as Penelope was about to turn the corner and listen into the couple’s fight again, she had heard something different. 

“Meow.”

She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, but when she walked over to the nearest bush to investigate, a two giant blue eyes stared back at her. 

Oh, right. 

Penelope looks down at the kitten currently sleeping in her arms. 

He had white fur with little patches of black around his ears and nose. His whiskers were long — so long that they didn’t look like they were placed on the right cat. He was so small and scrawny — Penelope couldn’t tell if he was actually a kitten, or just a cat who spent too much time with too little food in his stomach. 

Without a collar or any family in sight (she had spent over an hour looking for them), Penelope decided to take him home. She spent 20 minutes taking the 10-minute walk home. She slowed her steps. She took unnecessary turns and waited too long before crossing crosswalks. She held the kitten tightly to her chest, shielded slightly by the nest she made out of her yellow cardigan. She practised what she would say to her mum. 

“Penelope. Anne. Featherington. Get that rodent out of my house!” 

It had not gone well. Although, even before she landed back on the front steps of her home, Penelope had suspected that there was nothing she could say that could convince her mum to let them keep him. 

She followed her mother’s instructions, fleeing from her house with the kitten in hand. Penelope didn’t have much of a plan once she hit the pavement outside, but like they so often do, she found her feet walking in the direction of the home across the street. But they stopped before they could reach it. 

Ever since Mr. Bridgerton died last summer, Penelope’s mum had warned her about showing up at their house unannounced. There are eight fatherless children in that house now — the youngest of which never even got to meet her father. They have enough going on as it is. 

They have enough going on as it is, she repeats again and again. 

That’s how she got here. Sitting on the edge of the pavement outside the Bridgerton household, a cat sleeping soundly in her lap. 

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy,” she tells him. She wonders if the kitten can sense the hesitance in her voice. 

Silently, Penelope wonders what the right thing to do is. Where the right place to go is. The first place she thinks of is an animal shelter. Surely, that is the most logical place to bring a lost kitten to. They would know how to take care of him, how to find him a home with people who want him. The only problem is that Penelope does not know of any actual animal shelters in Mayfair.

The second place she thinks of is the fire station down the street. Firefighters save cats, don’t they? Or was that —

“Pen?” 

Colin, her mind registers before she even has the chance to turn around. When she finally does, she attempts to smile, while also shielding the contraband from his view. Colin, in turn, throws her his usual smile — bright and true. The one that always manages to make Penelope’s stomach flip over inside herself. It does so now, even with the fresh sting of disappointment still welling up inside her. 

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to —” 

“What’s that?” he asks, nodding to the kitten she clearly failed at hiding away from him. Before she has the chance to answer, he sits down beside her on the curb.

“I found him in Grosvenor Square. He was all alone and I didn’t know where else to go…” Her voice trails off, once again contemplating what a responsible person would do next in this situation. 

“You gonna keep him?”

“No.” Disappointment is evident in her voice. “Mum won’t let me. She hates cats.” 

Penelope takes her eyes off the kitten to look up at Colin. While only two years older that her, he stands nearly a head above her (he’s tall for his age — she’s short for her’s). Even sitting, she has to tilt her head up just to look him in the eyes. As usual, his brown mop of a haircut hangs so low that it covers his eyes somewhat, but Penelope can still see the blue-green colour peaking through. She’s always quite liked that colour. 

Colin tilts towards her a few inches, then raises his hand to gently pet the kitten’s head. “I’d take him, but mum and Daph are both allergic.” 

Penelope can feel her eyes go wide. Mr. Bridgerton was allergic to hornets…

“Not that kind of allergic,” he reassures her, seemingly reading her mind. “They won’t, like, die or anything. Their skin will just get all red and scratchy if he gets anywhere near them.” 

“Oh — sorry. I should just go.” Pulling the kitten out of Colin’s grasp, Penelope stands. She starts to turn away from him, but is once again reminded that she has no idea where she is supposed to go. 

“Wait — no. Where are you gonna take him?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Where are you supposed to take stray cats?” 

He shrugs. “I dunno.” 

“Okay. I —”

“But I have an idea.” 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

The Bridgertons live on a gold mine. Metaphorically. Literally, they live on nearly an acre of land in the middle of Mayfair. Their back garden is massive compared to the neighbours that surround them, a feat that is only possible due to the home being passed down from one Bridgerton to the next for so many generations. That’s the same reason Penelope’s family is still able to reside in the house across the street, but their garden is not nearly as sprawling. 

“Where are we going?” 

She and Colin hadn’t gone through his house, rather, they went around it. Now, he leads her towards the very back of the estate, a few steps ahead, one hand on the wall to their left. His index finger traces the cracks between the stones. 

“Have some patience, Pen.” 

“I — I do.” And she does. Usually. Usually, Penelope is a remarkably patient girl. Well-mannered. Quiet. She usually wears those attributes on her shoulders like a uniform. But for some reason, they tend to slip away from her whenever Colin is near. 

Penelope’s eyes flick right, towards Colin’s family home. It seems purposeful, that they’re walking along the shadows of this wall. 

“Is Eloise home yet?” she asks, for no other reason than to fill the silence between them. Usually, Penelope prefers such silence. But not right now. 

“Uh, no. Ben took her into the city for her, uh… Her doctor appointment. They usually don’t get back until supper time.” 

Out of Colin’s view, she nods. For the past year — ever since Mr. Bridgerton died — Eloise has been seeing a doctor in the city pretty regularly. Penelope’s mum told her to never ask any follow up questions about these visits… but silently, she’s always questioned what type of doctor is able to fix an ailment like heartbreak. 

“Are you doing anything for the summer holiday?” she asks, another attempt to just fill the silence. She already knows the answer. They always travel up to Aubrey Hall for at least a week, this time of year. Always. 

“Nah. Just staying here, I guess.” 

“Oh.” Dread appears suddenly and sits heavily in Penelope’s stomach. Mr. Bridgerton died at Aubrey Hall last August. Of course they’re not eager to return.  “Us too.” 

“Cool. I’ll see you around then.”

She feels her cheeks instantly flush. “Yeah. Cool,” she says, hoping her voice does not expose the growing warmth on her skin. 

Without a word, Colin breaks away from the stone wall beside them and walks towards a particularly dense cluster of trees. When Penelope follows, she finds Colin standing next to something she’s never seen before, despite the many years she’s spent playing with Eloise in this yard. It’s a wooden shed of sorts. It’s wide and just about as tall as Penelope. 

“What is that?” 

“Some old shed. I dunno… I think they used to store firewood in here, back in the olden days.” He kicks open the latch with his foot. “Empty now, though. I don’t think anyone else remembers it’s here.” 

“So…” 

“So, your cat could live here.” 

Penelope looks down. At some point in the last few minutes, she had somehow forgotten the kitten held tightly against her chest. She had forgotten her whole point in being here. 

“Oh! Right. That’s, um…” 

She steals another glance at the shed. It certainly does look like it was last used during the “olden times.” 

“That’s really kind. But how would he — how would that work?” 

“We get him a bed, milk, food… Everything a cat needs to survive.”

Penelope’s brow furrows. “Those things cost money…”

Colin shrugs. “I’ll steal a $20 out of Anthony’s wallet.” A smile erupts on his face when he sees shock overtake Penelope’s. He didn’t know a child could open their mouth that wide. “Kidding — I’ll just tell him I’m sad. He’ll probably hand me a $20 and tell me to go fix my feelings with ice cream.” 

“Oh — okay. But…” Her mind stalls, searching for another flaw in his logic to voice aloud. There are just so many to choose from. “Mum always says we can’t get a pet cause they’re too much responsibility. You have to take care of them, feed them, make sure —” 

“Hey — we’re both very responsible people. I help keep Greg alive, and that kid thinks licking an electrical socket is a fun pastime. If I can do that, keeping a cat alive will be nothing.” 

“So we would, um…” She steals another glance at the shed before them. She can’t help but look at it and see a cage. “We would just lock him in there all day?”

“No!” He says quickly, a bit nervously. “We’ll keep the door open — or I could even cut a cat-sized hole in the side. You know, so he can come and go as he pleases.” 

“But if he’s able to leave that easily… Won’t he get lost again?” 

“No. If I know anything about cats, it’s that if you feed them, they’ll always find their way back to you. And since you found him hanging out in Grosvenor Square, clearly he’s an outside cat, not an inside cat.”

Penelope looks down at the kitten again. His attention has turned away from her; his round eyes dart back and forth wildly as he takes in all the space around them.

“I thought only strays went outside.” 

“No. A cat can have a home and not want to stay cooped up in at all day long.” Colin takes another step towards her. He raises his hand and scratches behind the kitten’s ear, who immediately starts purring. “Clearly, this little badass wants to roam free.” 

Yet again, Penelope can feel her cheeks burn pink. She’s lived in London her entire life, she’s heard words far worse than “badass” a million times before — but never from Colin’s lips. In fact, the two of them had never really been alone like this before. He was her best friend’s brother — a friend of sorts, but tangentially so. He was only ever in Penelope’s company through her friendship with Eloise. She isn’t used to having this much of his attention on her. 

“Here.” After what feels like hours, she pulls the kitten away from her chest and nearly shoves him into Colin’s. “He seems to really like you.” 

“Oh — okay.” Unsurprisingly — and annoyingly quickly — the kitten settles into his arms. Clearly, Colin’s natural charm works on animals just as well as it does on people. 

Colin finally takes his eyes off of hers, turning around to show the kitten what could be his new home. With his gaze finally off her, Penelope’s mind flushes with panic. With words she had brushed off just moments before. Colin offering to spend his own money. To cut a hole in the shed. To take care of the cat, himself. 

He has enough going on as it is. 

Penelope looks up to see Colin setting the tiny creature down in the shed. Then, without much thought, she steps forward and takes the kitten in her arms again. 

“I’m sorry, Colin. I didn’t mean to get you wrapped up in this.” She turns away, pulling the kitten closer into her chest.  “I’ll drop him off that the fire —”

“Pen, stop.” His hand falls on her shoulder, then squeezes it once, gently. Although she is not very experienced in receiving such small physical gestures, Penelope can tell that he meant it to be reassuring. “He’ll be fine here, I promise.” 

She turns slowly. His hand drops. By the time they face each other again, her blush has almost abandoned her cheeks. Almost. 

“Are you sure it’s not too much?” 

He laughs. Genuinely. Kindly. Just as he always does. 

“No.” Gently, Colin pulls the kitten out of her arms again. “How could this little guy ever be ‘too much?’” 

Pushing away all thoughts that scream that this is a bad idea, Penelope pushes her shoulders back. She stands tall (metaphorically, of course). 

“I’ll do half the work — at least. I can check on his bowl every morning. Make sure he has water and food and whatever else he needs. Maybe you can do the same at night. And if you ever can’t, just let me know and I’ll help. And if it ever does become too much, I can find him somewhere else to live.” 

When she finally closes her mouth, Colin’s smile returns. Then, he extends his hand towards her. “You got a deal, Featherington.” 

Tentatively, Penelope raises her hand to seal said deal. But before she can make contact, Colin’s hand moves, as if to signal her to “stop.” 

“Once last thing. We should just keep this whole thing between us, or ya know… Anthony will send both me and the cat to the nearest shelter.” 

“Colin! I —” 

“Kidding!” He laughs again, which has a surprisingly good effect on Penelope’s nerves. “But really… It’s simpler if we don’t tell anyone else. Not even Eloise — she can’t keep a secret for her life.” 

She tilts her head again, stealing a not-so-quick glance at his eyes (through the mop of hair still obscuring that blue-green colour). Since as long as she can remember, Penelope has always wanted more of Colin — in some ways that she will not be able to define with words until she is much older. But even at just eight years old, Penelope knows she wants to be around him. She wants his attention. She wants to share a secret with him. Even if she knows it’s a bad idea. 

“Deal.” With that, Penelope shakes Colin’s hand and seals their fate forever. 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 5th, 2003

꙳

It turned out to be a rather easy secret to keep. 

Penelope was good at staying unseen — at blending into the shadows. Every morning at approximately 7 AM, she snuck into the Bridgerton back garden. And every morning at approximately 7:10 AM, she snuck out without being noticed by anyone other than Colin. Not that has mum or siblings would bat an eye if they happened to find Penelope back there. Before Edmund died and her own mum warned her to keep herself scarce, there were times that Penelope spent more time at the Bridgertons’ home than her own house. And despite Portia’s warnings, they would gladly invite her inside, any day. 

Colin was also quite good at escaping his family’s notice on his own daily task. Every night around dusk, he would sneak into the kitchen or bathroom, fill an 8-ounce bottle with tap water, then hide it in the front pocket of whatever hoodie he happened to be wearing that day. They kept the cat food in the shed, in a locked container Colin bought at the pet store down the street (with money he had stolen from Anthony’s wallet — although he never admitted that he followed through on the theft “joke” to Penelope). The longer time went on, the less effort he put into sneaking out of the house everyday. The longer time went on, the more obvious it became how easy it is to disappear from a house with nine people. Especially when the one person everyone searches for is no longer around. 

The only conspirator that ever put them at risk of being found out was Mr. Whiskers (a name Colin had thought of, after Penelope complained that they couldn’t just keep calling him “little guy.”). Three times in two weeks, Whiskers had loitered around the Bridgerton’s back steps, meowing for attention. Colin had caught him the first time and shooed him off. Daphne caught him the second time and screamed bloody murder. Anthony caught him the third and nearly called animal control, but thankfully, Benedict had stepped in to tell their older brother to “chill out.” Thankfully, Whiskers seemed wary of coming close to the Bridgerton household after that last encounter. 

A routine formed. Penelope would sneak into the garden in the morning. Colin would sneak out of his home at night. Mr. Whiskers would come and go as he pleased between meals. Their paths rarely cross. Until tonight, when Colin spots someone running towards the back of the garden in the moonlight from his bedroom window. 

Someone quite short. 

Less than five minutes later, Colin runs along the same path — far less cautious than he usually is at dusk. He prays his mum or siblings are not watching out their windows like he was his. That they’re asleep — not pacing circles in their rooms in the middle of the night. He knows the risks are there, but the further his feet carry him, the more faraway they feel.

He hears crying in the distance. Quiet, but persistent.

He sees her before she sees him — sitting criss crossed on the entry of the shed, Mr. Whiskers climbing into her lap tentatively. She does not notice him until he is standing but a few feet away. 

Colin had felt distinctly uneasy since the very moment he spotted her in the back garden. But a wave of fear strikes him cold when their eyes meet. Hers go so wide that he swears he can see the moonlight reflect off of them. She does not immediately speak; even her crying goes silent when she realises she is not alone. 

“Pen, what’s wrong? How can I help?” 

“Noth — nothing.” She sounds scared. At least the fearful look in her eye is somewhat obstructed by nightfall. Her words cut clean through the darkness. 

He steps forward, now standing only inches away from her. Instinctively, his hand raises and gently grips her shoulder. He feels her flinch beneath his touch, but not enough to remove herself from it. 

“Pen, whatever it is, you can tell me. I can help.” 

She averts his gaze, focusing intently on the cat still sitting in her lap.

“It’s nothing, really. I — I just wanted to see Mr. Whiskers for a little bit.” 

Colin doesn’t say anything, too busy internally trying to make sense of the words she spills and the worry in her voice. They do not fit together. 

“I’m sorry,” she continues. She uses the back of her hand to wipe at her nose. “I shouldn’t have — I’ll just go.” 

“Don’t go.” Before Penelope can move, Colin squeezes her shoulder again. His mum does the same thing when he gets so upset and that he needs help calming down. 

Slowly, under Colin’s grasp, Penelope’s shoulders stop heaving. Her breath evens out. She meets his eye again.

“What happened?”

“Honestly, nothing.”

“Pen —”

“Nothing that isn’t, like, normal, I mean.” He does not know what she means. He can’t imagine a single normal thing that would cause someone to run away crying from their home in the middle of the night. Especially someone as small and defenceless as Penelope. 

“Mum and dad were just fighting,” she confesses after realising that Colin’s look of concern will not fade unless she tells him the truth. “A bit louder than usual, I guess. But it’s not like I haven’t heard them fight a million times before.” 

“That’s —” Not normal. But he doesn’t say that. He can’t say that. He’s suddenly — alarmingly — struck by the fact that what he deems “normal” might not be the same for Penelope. That there are “normal” things in his life — all of which came about in the past year — that other people would scoff at and tell him are unimaginable for a kid to deal with at his age. 

That’s not right, would be more accurate. But he doesn’t say that either. Instead, he simply asks: “Do you want to come inside? El is probably asleep, but I could wake her —” 

“No — thank you, but no. I should actually get going.” With that, Penelope slips out of his hold. “Mum will kill me if she realises I slipped out.” She places Mr. Whiskers back in the shed before turning to leave. She takes four steps before Colin finds his voice again.

“You don’t have to do deal with this all by yourself, Pen. I’m here. I want to help.” 

At his words, Penelope goes completely still. Deer-in-deadlights type stillness. Then, before he knows it, she’s walking towards him. 

Her arms wrap around his torso. Her hands land firmly on his spine. Her forehead falls on his shoulder. Without a single thought, his body reacts. His arms wrap around her and his jaw settles on the crown of her head. For a moment, it feels like its just the two of them in the world. Until Colin feels something furry cross his ankle. 

“I guess Whiskers was feeling left out,” he says. Penelope laughs and Colin feels a bit lighter. That lightness is quickly followed by something hollow when Penelope pulls herself out of the hug to pick up the kitten meowing at her feet. 

“He keeps trying to follow me home after breakfast.” She giggles softly. “Clearly, he doesn’t remember meeting my mum, or else he would stay away forever. I think she thought he was a rat that day I found him.” 

Colin chuckles, and it’s only somewhat forced. “Yeah, he tried sneaking into my house a few times. He met Anthony last time, though, and I don’t think he’s ever gonna forget that.”

She giggles again. “Was he mad?” 

“His face was red — literally! Although, I’m starting to think that’s just how is face normally is and that it takes great effort for him to appear like us normal people, if that’s how he reacts to a cute little kitten hanging around our back door.” 

Penelope scratches Whiskers behind his ears. Eyes not leaving the cat, she whispers: “I don’t know how people can see something so sweet and get so mad.” 

Colin’s eyes don’t leave Penelope when he responds, suddenly a bit deflated: “Me neither.” 

Slowly, she lowers Mr. Whiskers back to the ground. The cat does not appear to be very keen on leaving her side just yet, but Penelope still insists: “I should really head back now. Before anyone notices I left.” 

Colin spares a glance over his shoulder, towards the family home he had nearly forgotten about. It’s likely past midnight already, but there are still a few lights on upstairs. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “Me too.” 

Penelope nods. She looks like she’s about to turn and leave when Colin blurts out: “You wanna meet here again in the morning? When you feed Whiskers, I mean.” 

She doesn’t immediately respond with words, but rather with a very confused expression lit by the moonlight. “I thought —”

“Our system’s like efficient and all,” he cuts in, “but we haven’t exactly seen each other much since we started taking care of him. I dunno, I guess I just thought that we would hang out more.” 

“Oh!” Her voice registers barely below a squeak. “Yeah. I know what you mean. I…” She pauses so long that Colin wonders if it is his turn to speak again. But right before he can blurt out something again, Penelope says: “I’d like that.” 

For the first time in days, a smile creeps up on Colin’s lips. 

“Cool. See you tomorrow.” 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 14th, 2003

꙳

“I’m not sure I understand the rules of this game.”

“It’s our game. The rules can be whatever we want them to be.” 

Penelope stands with the tips of her toes and the palms of her hands pressed neatly against Colin’s matching sets. There’s a piece of cat biscuit placed between her right palm and Colin’s left. There’s a tiny kitten peering up at them from where their shoes connect. He looks just as confused on the parameters of this game as Penelope feels. 

The rules, they eventually settle on, are these: 

Before getting into the aforementioned position, one person briefly presents the biscuit to Mr. Whiskers (taking turns to avoid leading the cat towards favouritism of one player over another).

On the count of three, one person takes the biscuit into their hands, both turn around and run in opposite directions. 

Mr. Whiskers follows whoever he believes holds his treat. 

Penelope ends up with the biscuit three times. Colin ends up with it five times. It falls to the ground between them eleven times. Each time, without fail, Whiskers immediately takes off after Penelope. 

“This isn’t fair!” Colin calls out from behind a tree on their twentieth attempt at this so-called ‘game.’ “It’s not my fault you bonded with him first.” He points a finger at the cat currently pawing at her ankles. “I feed you just as much as she does — traitor!”

“Shhh, Colin!” Penelope whisper-yells. “Someone might hear you.” 

“Oh, who cares?” he says nonchalantly, retreating back towards the shed. 

I care, Penelope thinks. She doesn’t want any one of Colin’s many siblings to stumble upon them back here. She’s not ready to give up this secret. She’s not willing to end this game. Not yet, anyway. 

“Mr. Whiskers cares. I doubt he wants to be evicted from his home just because you’re a sore loser.” She picks the kitten up and plops him down on Colin’s lap, now sitting criss-cross in the shed’s doorway. 

“Well, he should have thought about that before picking sides.” He sticks his tongue out at Mr. Whiskers, who continues to appear unphased by his surroundings. 

Like she has come accustomed to doing over the past two weeks, Penelope sits down on the other end of the shed’s opening. His body is turned towards her, but she keeps her positioned outwards, as if to keep watch. Her legs cross in front of her at the ankles, her nails scratch into the grain beneath her, and, sitting upright, the crown of her head brushes the wood frame. Colin is — obviously — slouched in his spot beside her. 

After a moment of quiet, Colin clears his throat. 

“You know, you can come over for dinner tonight, if you want.” 

“Oh, no. That’s okay,” Penelope says quickly. Dismissively. “Mum will expect me home soon. I think we’re having stew.” 

“Yeah, but what about tomor—” It’s a pretty uncommon occurrence for Penelope to see a blush pass by Colin’s typically unblemished face, but right now, it hits his cheeks in an instant. He turns away. “Well, not tomorrow. Obviously. But another day.”

The mention of tomorrow brings a feverish feeling to Penelope’s chest. Much different than the warm feeling she usually feels in that same spot when she’s around Colin.

“I can’t. I — I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t.” He finally looks her in the eye again. “You wouldn’t, I promise. When you have eight kids, one more mouth to feed hardly makes a difference.” His eyes travel to the side again. They point towards his house, partially obstructed by the scattering of trees they’ve found themselves in. “El would be happy if you stopped in. Mum too.” 

Penelope tries to push out her mother’s voice from her head when she says: “Yeah. Another day. Soon.” 

“Good.” 

After another moment of quiet, she pushes herself forward and lands with two feet on the grass. 

“I really should head back now, though.” 

“Okay, I’ll —”

“But, Colin?” She interrupts — a truly rare occurrence for Penelope Featherington. 

“Yeah?”

“I was just thinking… Maybe I could feed Mr. Whiskers breakfast and dinner tomorrow. I know we have our system, but… I just — I don’t want you to have to deal with taking care of him on top of any… family stuff.”

Colin, now holding rather tightly onto Mr. Whiskers in his arms, considers her offer for a moment. His brows furrow. His eyes glance downward. He starts forming a word on his lips and Penelope expects to hear the word “no” escape from them shortly after. But instead, he nods and says: “That’s kind of you to offer. Thanks, Pen.”

Kindness isn’t something that Penelope has ever been thanked for before. She had been rewarded for it in other ways, but not like this. Kindness had always been something that was expected, not appreciated. Now, she feels hesitant to accept thanks for something as small as offering up a few minutes of her time for someone who has gone through more grief than she can even imagine. So instead of accepting it outright, she simply nods and says: “Goodnight, Colin.” 

 ꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 25th, 2003

꙳

When Penelope walks towards the shed at approximately 6:55 AM this Monday morning, the door is shut. This is strange. The door is always open. Penelope had convinced Colin not to cut a little cat door on the side of the shed (he had wanted to use a saw from their garage), so the door always has to be open for Whiskers to come and go. Always. 

The closer she gets, the harder it is for her to take another step. Her head is already filled with the image of an empty cavern on the other side of that door. It couldn’t have close on its own; the latch is locked. Someone closed it. 

Just as her hand grazes that metal latch, Penelope hears footsteps. Quick and increasingly loud footsteps. She jumps (literally) around — heart pounding, eyes wide — and sees…

“Colin! Where’s Mr. Whiskers?!

“In there.” He points to the shed behind her, still shut tight. Once he gets close enough, he reaches over he shoulder and finally undoes the latch. Just as promised, the cat is there, curiously looking up at them.

“He keeps trying to follow me back into the house after I feed him. Last night, he was scratching at the back door. Thank God I got to him before Anthony.” 

“So he was just locked in there all night?” 

She spares another sideways glance at the shed’s interior. It’s not nearly as bare as it had been that first day she looked inside. There’s two containers. Two bowls. Two electric lanterns. A blanket. A few cat toys. And a few human toys she assumes once belonged to Colin. To an animal as tiny as Mr. Whiskers, it might seem huge, but to Penelope, it all feels very claustrophobic. 

“Yeah, but… Sometimes it’s just safer to stay put for a little while. Even outdoor cats need to be reigned in some nights.” 

Penelope doesn’t know whether to agree or disagree with his words, so she tries her best to ignore them. She climbs into the shed, gives Whiskers an affectionate bop on the head, then fills his bowl with breakfast. 

“I wanted to wake up early and let him out, but… I guess I slept in.” Colin’s out of her view, still standing just outside the shed, but she can guess there’s a guilty look creeping up on his face. 

“You’re not wrong,” she finally settles on. When Whiskers finishes his meal, she finally looks back to Colin. Just as expected, guilt is evident on his face. “But maybe Mr. Whiskers isn’t an outside cat after all. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to follow us back to our own homes.” 

“I thought that was just because he loves us.” Leave it to Colin Bridgerton to transform guilt into charm in under 30 seconds. 

“Well…” Penelope turns back to Mr. Whiskers again. As usual, he’s peering up at them with a transfixed — maybe even loving — stare. “Maybe you have a point.” 

“I usually do —” 

“But still — do you really think this is what’s best for him?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean…”

She bites her tongue — literally. All of this started because of her own selfish wants. To keep the cat. To occupy Colin’s attention. To have a reason to get out of her house every morning. But the more time has gone on, the harder it has become to see past the potential consequences of her selfishness.

“Summer’s almost over. We have to go back to school and can’t look out for him all day. It’s gonna get cold soon…” Colin’s face looks serious now. More serious than she’s used to seeing it. She looks away. “What if he gets sick? Or needs a vet? I just don’t know if this is really his best option.”

Penelope points both hands towards the shed. Towards the small wooden structure that completely transformed her summer. Towards the only home Mr. Whiskers has ever known — dim and claustrophobic as it may be. She expects Colin’s eyes to follow her lead, but they don’t. For a moment, it feels as though her presence completely slips from his view. His eyes are fixated on something in the distance — something in the opposite direction. Then —

“Shite!” 

His arms hastily wrap around Penelope’s waist. It takes everything in her not to shriek in surprise as he practically throws her into the shed. Thankfully, Mr. Whiskers jumps from the doorway to the back of the shed in an instant, or else she surely would have crushed him on impact. 

“Colin! What —”

“Shh!” Colin climbs in and shuts the door behind him. Thank God those electric lamps are still (just barely) holding onto life and dimly illuminating the space, or else Penelope would not have been able to discern him mouth: “Anthony.” 

The tips of their toes touch in the limited space. Penelope wonders if he can feel her shaking through the plastic tips of her yellow converse. The concerned look he throws her way tells her that he must.

“You okay?” he mouths. 

She thinks about nodding. She briefly wonders if a nod can count as a lie, or if lies can only be spoken aloud. But she doesn’t do anything, except stay frozen in her spot. 

Everything is quiet. For a brief moment, Penelope thinks they may have actually gone unnoticed. Then, she remembers that the latch — the flimsy piece of metal that keeps these doors shut — is on the other side. When Mr. Whiskers paws at the wood beams, the door swings open. The morning light nearly blinds her, but not enough to miss Anthony Bridgerton’s very mad — very red — face. 

“Colin — what the hell?!” 

Just as Colin had thrown her into of the shed mere moments ago, Anthony now pulls Penelope out of it by the shoulders. Just like Whiskers, she somehow manages to land on her feet. 

“I knew it! I knew you were irresponsible, but this —” He bends down and grabs Whiskers by the scruff of his neck. “This is insane. Even for you.” 

Anthony turns to Penelope, as if he has only just now discovered her presence beside Colin. In mere seconds, she watches his face turn from anger to shock to annoyance. He turns to his little brother again. 

“I will be the responsible adult and make sure this — thing — finds an actual home and doesn’t continue living on the streets.” With a near-growl caught in his throat, Anthony tells Colin: “We will discuss this later.” 

He turns to leave, but stops. “And Colin, do not mention this to mum. Or anyone else.” 

He starts then stops again. “And Penelope, please do not let my brother’s bad influence rub off on you. A nice girl like you has enough trouble as it is being friends with Eloise.” 

It isn’t until Anthony has properly stomped away, Mr. Whiskers securely tucked in his arms, that Penelope seems to regain control of her body and mind. Slowly, she turns towards Colin. She uses every second between then and the moment she looks him in the eye to begin preparing an apology. For getting him in trouble with his brother. For getting him caught up in this mess to start with. For being a bad friend. But the moment that their eyes meet… Colin does not look like he is expecting an apology of any sort. 

He laughs. 

“Did you see the look on his face?!” 

“Uhh. I don’t —” 

 “He looked like a tomato! I swear one day he’s gonna burst and —”

“Colin,” she says, concern in her voice, too low to break through the noise of his continued laughter.

“— marina sauce is gonna go flying —”

“Colin!” she says again, a bit louder this time. Thankfully, it seems to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —”

“Oh god, Pen. Don’t be sorry.” 

“But —” 

“But your — your brother —”

“I should be apologising for Ant— even if you and him were both right about Whiskers needing somewhere else to live.”

“Yeah…” As much as she will miss her tiny, furry friend, this is for the best. For Whiskers, at least. “But Anthony was so mad at you. And I —”

“He’ll get over it. That’s the great thing about having seven siblings — wait five minutes and someone will do something even stupider than you. Daph and El are probably inside getting into a fist fight as we speak.” 

The mention of her best friend temporarily draws Penelope’s thoughts away from her internal pity party. She saw Eloise plenty of times over the past few weeks, but not nearly as much as she did during previous summer breaks. Before last August. 

“You wanna come over for dinner tonight?” Colin asks, breaking her from her thought spiral.

“Hmm?”

“I said,” he smirks, “do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” 

“I don’t know… Anthony seemed —”

“Don’t worry about Anthony. He’ll get over it — and you heard him, he’s not even going to rat us out to my mum.” He takes a step forward, then places his hand on Penelope’s shoulder. He squeezes it once. “It’ll be fun. Everyone will be excited to see you.” 

Not for the first time — and certainly not the last — Penelope feels at a loss for words. All she can manage is a tiny nod. A nearly imperceptible movement. 

Colin smiles. 

“Good. Just so you know, the door is always open. Always.” 

Finally, little Penelope Featherington finds her voice again. 

“I know.” 

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

Penelope tries to hide the smile on her lips by shoving another fork full of shrimp fried rice into her mouth. Colin — of course — sees right through her attempt. 

“So…” 

“Anthony was right. We were awfully irresponsible that summer. He was better off after Danbury took him in and he became Lord Whiskers.”

“Hey — give us a little credit! How many 8 or 10-year-olds do you know who could keep a cat alive for a summer all by themselves?” 

“The only impressive thing we did that summer was keeping our little secret hidden from the rest of your family.” 

“What are you talking about?!” Colin says, unable to keep his ever-charming laugh from escaping his throat as he speaks. “Do not downplay our role in raising that cat. You rescued him from the mean streets of London. I —”

“I found him hiding out in a bush in Grosvenor Square!”

“Exactly! And I —” 

“Colin!”

“I built him a home,” he barely manages to get out through his laughter.

“That’s a bit over-dra—”

“We fed and took care of him for over a month. We were just kids — that’s pretty impressive. That means something.”

In her heart, Penelope knows that — obviously — it means something. But does it mean what Colin wants it to mean? That they should get married? Even with the rules he set forth, it seems like an insane connection to even consider.

“I don’t know…” 

“For five weeks, he was ours. That means a lot.”

For a moment, Penelope does consider it. She thinks about who Colin was to her before she found Mr. Whiskers. A friend — of sorts. Her best friend’s brother. A neighbour. A crush. Someone she looked at and longed for. After, she thinks of who Colin was to her on that morning Anthony found them hiding out in that tiny wooden shed. A friend. A fellow kid. A conspirator. Someone who saw her cowering in the dark and asked if she was okay. 

So what, if their hypothetical marriage hinges on a technicality? People have married on flimsier grounds before. 

“Fine,” she relents. “It counts.” 

A moment ago, she wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Colin’s grin grows even wider. 

“Of course it does.” As Penelope attempts to cover her own grin with a scoff, Colin picks up his phone again.

“Let’s see…”

[eijiroukiriot]

why do you see bkg as trans?

i've had this ask sitting in my drafts since like august BECAUSE i knew if i did the question justice it was gonna get VERY long and pretty personal - if i'm gonna talk about it then i gotta talk about it in all earnest. and you've given me the floor to talk about it. so!!

at first i had these typed out as two separate points but i think they go a lot more hand-in-hand than that, so to start - when i think about my own gender and why i can't bring myself to identify fully with womanhood a lot of it is because there's something that feels so free about masculinity. mostly just like because of womanhood on a societal level a lot of my experience as a girl forever has been "you need to think about how your existence makes other people feel. you really need to present yourself in a way that's pleasant for other people. the way you look, the way you talk, the way you conduct yourself - people are entitled to having a say in all that. and if any of that isn't living up to the way it's supposed to be, then that's a fault of yours." here's a vent post i made when i was 17:

which is mostly really superficial examples of the suffocating expectation of girlhood but it's also so blatantly about bkg. in the moment my thought process was more like "i'm so deeply unsatisfied with so many parts of being a girl, it sounds like there'd be so many less people to answer to if i were a boy" but it's funny reading back on it bc it's like "dude are you just talking about bkg". but then who's a better example of choosing to stomp through life exactly as loud and rude as he wants to be without answering to anyone than bakugou katsuki!! honest about his thoughts in any case!! free to speak as bluntly and rudely as he wants!! never putting up with shit that makes him feel unlike himself!! walks with big wide steps and wears stupid baggy clothes and doesn't care what people have to say about it and doesn't feel worse if they do disagree. grins crazy blasting himself through the air. fights with big windup swings and shouts all the while. huge huge presence and so unafraid to assert it. named himself great・explosion・murder・god dynamight. i think i project a big sense of defiance onto bkg's character because everything he is just feels so defiant to me. there's just a lot that i admire about boyhood and bkg feels like the embodiment of it to me

and then you've got bkg himself, who like- isn't even fulfilling the "doesn't feel worse about himself if he is genuinely not the greatest or kindest" part of it!! bkg's character is so centered around figuring out who he is and like navigating through the mortifying ordeal of existing and not actually liking the person you are and trying to figure out where to go from there- he really thinks he has so much to prove...both in the sense that he DOES want to project this big image and also that he really can't cut himself a break. and then he freaks out when he's not becoming the person he wants to be and picks a fight with deku over it and totally breaks down and picks himself back up and forces himself to seriously rewire the entire view of himself and others that he's had his entire life - he's 16 - and goes to all this teeth-clenching effort to be a better person and has highs and lows and wears himself raw and then comes back to life. well the quality of the later part of his arc is very debatable. but his character is so about just figuring out who he is and kind of failing at it a lot of the time. and then eventually figuring it out and getting confident and stable in it. he makes friends who rib on him because they know he's got a good heart under it all, and moreover he lets them. he gets good at shouting something back and carrying on. you see the amount of conscious thinking it takes him to take some of those steps - rethinking his relationship with deku, the god am i really fucking doing this scoff before he gives kirishima back the money - but a lot of it is just steady growth. growing up. genuinely getting more comfortable and more okay with himself over time. but there's also all these little failures along the way because he's just a kid figuring it out, and also genuinely this anger towards the world for not understanding it when he does assert himself (sports festival....where deku also specifically notes that he knows he's not as confident as he wants to be!)

i haven't really closely reread bnha in a sec so a lot of this is probably a lot of projecting (i know it's undeniably influenced by the picture of bkg i have in my head) and i probably also didn't really clarify anything, because in the end everything bakugou is feels very trans to me. "the image you have of bkg katsuki in your head can actually be so personal" etc. digging into my archives i found this post from years back where i described basically the same stuff about bkg being a teen figuring himself out and saying "so yeah he's trans" without being able to hit it more on the head. kirishima is my favorite most special boy of all time, and i love him in so many ways, but bkg is my cringefail stinky teen boy in w the unshatterable determination to actually go MAKE himself the person he wants to be, no matter how many missteps he makes on the way there. it brings me a lot of comfort to imagine him being a self-made man as a part of the because gender is so confusing and questioning can be so intense. i'm 23 and i'm typing all this about an anime boy so i hope it's evident what a soul-bearingly honest answer this is bc otherwise oh haha embarrassing. but yeah i love that kid. i hope every little victory and day where his voice sounds good to him and glance of his top scars in the mirror feels like one of the high points on the journey

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ june 2023

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 13 022

projects worked on: Andromeda Rogue mostly but i've been swatting at Shiny New Ideas left and right with a tennis racket. also i thought about Gemini Heist really really hard and i think that counts for something

proudest accomplishment: AR1 draft 2 is done!!!!!!

books read: After Atlas by Emma Newman; Everyone In My Family Has Killed Someone by Benjamin Stevenson; Exit Strategy (Murderbot Diaries #4) by Martha Wells. all excellent reads. (sidenote two out of three of these books involve murder investigations and the third has murder in the title. i'm sensing a theme in my reading.)

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

i am still terrible at being consistent at writeblr-ing. i guess this is just my life now.

i'm debating using camp nano to actually hunker my ass down and get some writing done on gemini heist, but between work and apartment hunting and a possible move by the end of the month i don't know how feasible that's gonna be :') we'll see.

and no i'm not glossing over the fact that i have a finished second draft. i'm just saving my screaming for below the cut.

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(i wasn't kidding about the screaming.)

so this draft now sits at 85.7K, which is about 11.8K added from the first, and although it is still faaar from perfect it is definitely... better than the draft i finished 2 years ago. it's insane how much my writing has improved, between all the reading i've been doing and first drafting the two sequels of the trilogy.

that being said there still are a lot of things i know need to be fixed, but i'm at the point where if i try to fix them on my own i'll be stuck on them forever.

enter the betas!!! i'm planning on doing an ~official~ beta call next week but honestly if you're interested in beta-ing this book feel free to hmu right away!! ultimately i want to self-pub this thing (which is quite overwhelming to think about hhhhh) but one thing at a time :')

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

i really couldn't decide what snippet to post so this was admittedly chosen a bit at random lmao. this is from when the gang is approaching their destination for their expedition.

On the external display, Mohani loomed ahead, growing larger every second. The planet was almost entirely a deep blue, except for some white spots at its poles. It reminded Finneas of his final glimpse of Ghillairde when he was leaving it behind for the last time. For a disorienting second, it almost felt like he was returning to his birth planet. But soon, the ship was close enough to see the sandy outline of the continents. The blue wasn’t all ocean. Some of it was trees. He directed the ship towards the landing coordinates just as Petra arrived in the bridge, clutching several barf bags. “Good to see you’ve come prepared, Lacroye,” he commented. “You’re already looking green, and we haven’t even entered the atmosphere yet.” She grumbled something unintelligible in response as she took her place in the copilot’s chair.

one of my editing notes for draft 2 was to make Petra's starsickness worse😆

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

general taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @onomatopiya @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda trilogy taglist:

@bebewrites @nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @onomatopiya @akindofmagictoo @quilloftheclouds @nora-theteawriter @ashen-crest @corpsepng @writeblrfantasy @toboldlywrite @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @cheerfulmelancholies @extra-magichours @writeouswriter @cilly-the-writer @lefttigerobservation @rose-bookblood @drowsy-quill @chazzawrites @cynic-and-chief @enchanted-lightning-aes @aesa @outpost51

[not-poignant]

What has been your favorite scene to write in underline the black so far?

I have a few actually!

Gary throwing a glass of cold water at Efnisien to jolt him out of his dissociation except instead of a glass of water it's the whole Indian Ocean and in response Efnisien tries to beat the ever-loving shit out of him and gets hugged on the beach.

Efnisien asserting a boundary in the form of absolutely annihilating Gary's office, and the subsequent disaster mounting, and then the subsequent 'I'll help u clean I'm sorry' *permanently files the name of James Visser in the vault forever*

Probably more things I've forgotten but they're two of the stand outs so far!

ETA: This has been sitting in my drafts for like... some time now and I'm gonna press post even though I said 'a few' and I only wrote a couple, but I will say one of my newest favourite scenes is just Gary straight up straddling Efnisien and pinning him down on the bed with one hand while putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking on them while staring at Efnisien with intent before like... basically finger fucking his mouth. You know... that one.

[bookwyrminspiration]

hello my lovely loveliest dearest favorite quil <333 I have finally actually returned with a slight rebrand and many tales to tell.

How are you bestie!!! I missed you So SO much and it's literally so rude that I can't send you all of the things that make me think of you. Like I swear my partner is gonna be jealous at this point because I'm literally like omg I literally need to show this to quil. It is a necessity. (If you're wondering it was a hoodie that had the classic university logo and said Silly Goose University and I decided that we needed them to match with our friendship bracelets.)

Anyway I am eyeing your new writing up very very closely and am itching to go to Ao3 and read ALL of it. (The urge is quite strong now that I have started Thinking about it, however this ask is taking long enough bc I have to take Wiggle™ breaks because holy bestie I am SO happy to talk to you once again.)

Speaking of your writing I was struck with the most incredible fantastic amazing art idea after looking at some of my old wings AU doodles. However, my drawing tablet went through the shredder (<- Puppy) I have to WAIT. To give the full idea justice but trust me bestie I'm so excited to show it to you.

Anyway I've been extra ramble-y but HI HOW ARE YOU I MISSED YOU WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOUR LIFE.

I'd love all of your thoughts and feelings and I miss you and ily and I'm so happy like I kid you not this ask has taken. So much effort because I cannot sit still writing this to you. I have. The Dumbest Smile on my face. <3333333

(Please note that this ask is meant to be read as if I am laying on your bed kicking my feet in the air while excitedly talking, thank you 😌)

TOBI!!!! I was just thinking about you the other day!! My dad and I were watching Labyrinth for the first time in a while, and when I realized the baby's name was Toby (i'd forgotten) I just went...ah..Tobi...I hope he's doing well...

I'm doing alright! I've been very busy this semester, and we are approaching finals so it's probably only going to get busier soon. But! This has been my first semester mostly in person in a very long time! And I'm officially fully in uni rather than dual credit, so I'm somewhere else now and have met SO many people. Actually am planning to meet up with one of them tomorrow to go to a restaurant/museum for class! And to watch a few movies with two others sometime soon.

lots of reflections on that because relationships of all kinds have been. rather difficult my whole life, so we'll see what happens here! also would 100% wear some silly goose university hoodies with you <3. move aside tobi's partner I need to glue BOTH of his hands to mine. forever

Also!! If you read my fics I'll love you forever and ever and ever even more. This new titz one has been sitting for several months, but I finally pulled it back out! And I am rather nervous about it because Fitz and Tam are both particular characters, and so combining them just makes them even harder to write. and THEN! throwing in Fitz's Alvar feelings makes that EVEN MORE difficult. but! it was also an absolute delight to work on so I hope you like it :)

and holy shit wings au art!!! i trust you so much I am so excited to see it--and don't worry about however long it takes! wings au is years in the writing, i've got experience with patience. wait btw, I don't know if you're aware, but I'm attempting to post the epilogue soon! I have the rough draft and the anniversary is coming up, so I'm hoping to have it edited to post on the ending's anniversary. it's a little over a week away, but also finals are descending AND its nano, so we'll see what happens. it WILL be out by the end of the year for certain though (and during october I went through and re-edited the whole thing for grammar and details--it's ridiculous how many its it's mistakes there were because i KNEW the difference. i'd just autopilot do one or the other and not catch it in my quick edits)

I keep pausing to do little claps and stim because. tobi!!! it's so so cruel we can't lay in bed kicking our feet together, i have missed you so so so much! what has been up with YOU? how has your life been? what's up with the blog migration--if you want to talk about it. also totally cool to simply accept it and move on. i just like talking to you and it's very nice to see you again :)

[d3c0mp0siti0nn]

First Draft/Central Idea

So originally this was just a little one shot thingy I wrote back in January on the 23rd but I ended up falling in love with the idea and it went from this to a huge writing project with 4 parts, and currently 15 chapters [I haven't made the outline for part 3 yet lol] it has two endings and a reversed ending. It's embarrassing that it's a self insert but oh well. Like I said, I wrote this back in January and it was just a little thing that I wasn't gonna post and it ended up turning into something so much bigger- it's more of a central idea and I had to change it a bit to make it line up with the current story so I'm sorry if it doesn't make any sense. Personally, I think it's bad. I think it's probably the worst and most embarrassing thing I've possibly ever written lol [Again, apologizing for the bad writing, I didn't expect to post this and thought it was just gonna sit in my Google docs forever but I edited it this morning and thought I would share it and see if ppl wanted to know more ab the story.] [[Sorry if it's out of character or anything I haven't actually *played* Ragnarök yet and am going off of videos and fanfics I've seen lmao]]

Word Count: 3,116

Miles doesn't really remember how he ended up in this sort of predicament. Where he currently was, he was laying down in his bed and next to him was a shirtless Heimdall with his back facing Miles.

It was…certainly odd. He hated Heimdall, he was the right hand man to Odin, who ruined his entire life and yet…he couldn't seem to actually spark any hatred for Heimdall no matter how hard he tried. He was still sorta in denial, but deep down Miles loved Heimdall's beautiful fluorescent purple eyes. He wanted to braid his hair and run his hands through it, they looked soft. He wanted to connect all his freckles with his fingers and name the ones that resembled constellations. He wanted to be there for him when he was having a bad day. There was so much Miles wanted to do with Heimdall, he wanted to show him gods can be kind.

Yet- Miles still really doesn't understand why he feels this way, or really how he ended up here. All Miles remembers is being in the tavern as drunken Thor talked about nothing important but Miles stayed feeling the tiniest sliver of pity for the man. Miles was only in Asgard because of Atreus, they had recently become close and this gave Miles a chance to search Asgard for something, anything to break the curse put on his family.

As Thor continued to go on and drown himself in mead, Miles’s eyes drifted around the room. They eventually fell upon Heimdall. He was sitting on a bench with a fur thing over it. He had a book in one hand and an apple in another. Miles turned his gaze back to Thor, thankfully he had passed out on the table. Miles got up, grabbed his cane and walked behind where Thor sat and gave him two harsh pats on the back. He made his way out of the tavern to go explore Asgard, it had been almost four hundred years since his last time there so there was bound to be new things. Even if Miles didn't wanna admit it, Asgard was sorta beautiful. It was weird because it felt so warm here, yet out in Midgard it was Fimbulwinter. It was obviously Odin's magic, but still.

As Miles walked around Asgard he just took it all in, the beauty of life, the way the breeze made the trees and grass dance– just everything. Miles came upon a towering, beautiful tree. It seemed familiar, like he has seen or heard about it before. Miles limped around the tree running his finger over it, observing it. Then he felt something rough under his fingers. It was a heart carved in the tree. As cute as that was it was kinda rude to the tree. Oh well. Inside the heart was "H+M"...ha that's a funny coincidence. Miles's eyes traveled down a little bit and they had more. "-Heimdall (for if he stumbles upon this he'll know it's me)"

Miles made a "hmm", "I wonder who *he* is?" Miles whispered to himself as he made his way around the tree. There were so many carvings, one said- "Am I stupid to like someone so below me?" Yup that was Heimdall alright. "Who could this possibly be about?" Miles wracked his brain for anyone who Heimdall might’ve taken an interest in and yet he came up with nothing. The carvings were very old, they must've been when he was pretty young. At the front of the tree there was a tiny piece of rolled up paper in a tiny little hole in one of the branches. Miles pulled it out and unrolled it, it read:

*"It seems as if things never change. It's been 384 years since I last saw or heard anything from or about him and yet I still feel myself drawn to come visit the tree. I have a feeling he might stumble into my hand soon. I wonder if he's seen this tree? It's all futile to l̶o̶v̶e̶ like such a pathetic god like him and yet I do. He's so below me and yet I feel a strong urge to see him. The one thing I hope is that he doesn't find this.*

*-Heimdall"*

Miles laughed a tiny bit at it. The thought of Heimdall being head over heels for someone was certainly amusing. Maybe Miles could use this against him the next time they had an argument. Miles plopped down at the front of the tree, it was a good sitting spot. Miles grabbed his book and started reading

About an hour later he heard footsteps coming behind the tree. He didn't really feel like looking so instead he just decided to let them find him. The footsteps were slow and gentle he heard a small little laugh to the right of him, where the heart and initials were. Huh, it was Heimdall. I don't think I've ever heard him laugh normally - Miles thought. Heimdall heard it and sorta stomped over to Miles. When he saw who it was he froze and his purple eyes went wide. "What are you doing here?" He spat out. Miles briefly looked up from his book. "Reading. Am I not allowed to read here? Is this your tree or something?" Heimdall looked to the tiny hole that had the note, it was still there and seemed untouched. Heimdall sighed in relief, though it came out more of a huff. Heimdall started to walk away when Miles, still looking at his book, said- "Who's M?"

Heimdall stopped in his tracks. "What." He said with a slight annoyance to his tone. "Who's the other person you carved your initials with?" Heimdall rolled his eyes and took a peek in Miles’s mind, he thought Miles was just playing dumb but he wasn't. He genuinely didn't know it was him, he had even read the note and yet still. He's so dumb - Heimdall thought. "That's none of your business." Heimdall said as he stood proud. "In your note you said you haven't heard from him in 384 years. You must've written that 11 years ago. Is this 'M' person dead or something?"

Heimdall rolled his eyes yet again. "No." Miles made an 'Ah' sound. "It's kinda funny thinking about you falling for someone." Miles said as he laughed a tiny bit while he flipped the page. "I mean the Heimdall falling for someone. It's fucking comical." A tiny part of Heimdall was a bit annoyed that he didn't realize it was him. Miles got up and put his book away and grabbed his cane which he had propped up on the tree. "I'll leave you alone now. Don't worry I won't tell anyone or anything. The fact that you have feelings is between me and you." Miles giggled a tiny bit before he limped off.

"Wait." Heimdall said. Miles turned around. "Did you say something?" - "Come back." Heimdall said a bit harshly. "Okay…" Miles walked back up to where Heimdall was. "What is it?" Miles said as he stood there, waiting for Heimdall to respond.

"It's you." He said blankly. Miles cocked his head to the side a bit. "What's me?" Heimdall groaned. "You're 'M'. The H and M in the heart stand for 'Heimdall and Miles'. I carved it when we were young. The other carvings I did 11 years ago." Miles laughed. "Ha. Yeah right. Funny joke, Heimdall." Miles looked in Heimdall's eyes as he laughed. Eventually Miles’s laughing faded. "Oh…you're– you're serious?" Miles nervously laughed. "I'm gonna go to uhm- to bed." Miles said as he limped away despite it being mid-day.

Once Miles made it back to his bed he threw off his shoes and immediately just fell on his bed. He laid on his back as he recalled what just happened. He wasn't quite sure how to feel. The right hand man to the man who stole everything from him had feelings for him…?

When Miles and Heimdall were 15, they were practically attached to the hip. Miles had heard of Heimdall, but he had just lost his family barely a year prior and he was vulnerable. Then Heimdall came along, and he was sweet and caring and it seemed like they were made for each other. Miles ended up foolishly falling in love with him. Somewhere deep down, Miles knew exactly who Heimdall was- but he was far too blinded to realize. Eventually, word got around to him and he was informed of who Heimdall was. It was terrible. He felt like such an idiot for not realizing sooner. None of it was real- what Miles felt for Heimdall was real but Heimdall's 'love' and 'affection' was all just a facade, something to pull in him closer and give him a false sense of security. So Miles, 16 and hurting, moved to Alfheim and told no one.

Miles had written something for Heimdall he was gonna send his way as a sort of explanation but he just never did. He was far too upset and didn't think Heimdall really *deserved* an explanation.

Miles flipped through all his memories with Heimdall from when they were young. They were nice. Miles never had the chance to make memories with someone close to him, given that as some cruel punishment Odin erased his family's memories of him all together. So with Heimdall he was able to make lasting memories with someone, ones that wouldn't be erased and thrown away as if they meant nothing.

He felt his eyes fill with tears just at the thought of his family. They were the only people to ever unconditionally support him and love him. He was called weak and useless and thrown away all the time simply because he couldn't do what the other gods did. He was cursed to live in the body of a woman with the soul and mind of a man and even though his family could never fully understand it they were there for him when it got hard and they helped him through it for 14 years. One day Miles got fed up with Odin's torture and went to see him. It ended in him going on an insane rampage, tearing down building after building, statues of the "great" Aseir gods, fighting Baldur, Thor, ect just quite literally tearing Asgard to shreds.

It's actually a surprise that Heimdall still felt the way he does after all that. Even after Miles tore down the place he loved so much and had such pride in, he still loved him. It was funny, really. The two of them were in a similar situation when it came to each other. They should hate one another but they couldn't bring themselves to even dislike them.

A light knock on his door made him shoot up. "Come in!" The door slowly opened, it was Heimdall. Miles laid back down. "Hi." Miles didn't know what else to say because he still wasn't quite sure how he felt. His brain, his mind knew that he was also in love with Heimdall but he just couldn't admit it. Heimdall sat at the edge of Miles’s bed. The both of them just sat there in silence, breathing in sync.

Miles eventually got the confidence to look at Heimdall. When he did his hair was all messy and his braids were kinda undone. He was sweating slightly. He must've been practicing sparring.

*I wanna braid his hair.*

Heimdall tensed up a bit and Miles could swear the tips of his ears were red. Heimdall scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Go ahead." Miles sat up and rose an eyebrow. "What?" Heimdall waved Miles off as he undid his hair. "Go ahead. Braid my hair. It's all you've been thinking all day." Miles looked at Heimdall with a quizzical look. "I never said- ooohhh." Miles inched closer to Heimdall. "Are you sure you're okay with a pathetic god like me who's so below you braiding your perfect hair?" Miles had a joking teasing tone that just had a huff from Heimdall in response.

Miles got behind Heimdall and grabbed a comb from his nightstand and gently ran it through his locks. It definitely wasn't Miles’s first time braiding his hair, infact they had braided each other's hair about a millions times when they were young. Although it was probably a lot harder for Heimdall to braid Miles’s hair on account of it being so long, but still, it was nice. That was one of his most precious memories Miles had. It was a good day, it was warm and had a light breeze. It was spring and the trees were so bright and vibrant. Miles and Heimdall had always met on a huge fallen tree in the middle of the Midgardian forest. The tree was covered in moss and Heimdall's hair always seemed to get messed up on his way climbing the tree, so Miles would always braid it. Miles had a tiny suspicion that Heimdall would mess up his hair before climbing up and just blame it on climbing to get Miles to braid his hair. Almost half a thousand years later, Miles still doesn't know the truth.

"Sorry if it doesn't come out very nice I'm a bit rusty, it's been a while." Heimdall didn't say anything as Miles started the first braid. Miles wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or not but Heimdall was really leaning into Miles. Almost fully laying on him but sitting up just enough so it wouldn't make his hair look weird. "Hey Heimdall, can I ask you a question?" Heimdall hummed "When we were younger and we would meet on the tree, would you mess up your hair before climbing up so I could braid it."

Heimdall tensed up. "Why would I ever willingly mess up my hair just to get you to braid it? My hair always looked horrible after you braided it, I had to rebraid it everytime." Miles laughed. "You suck at lying." Heimdall just huffed as a response again.

A while passed and Miles was finally finished. "Okay, I'm done." No response. "Heimdall?" Miles looked down at him…he's asleep? When did he fall asleep? Sure he was quiet but he doesn't normally speak much when he's not gloating. He seemed to be sound asleep too. It had been so long since Miles saw his face so relaxed. Him and Miles used to lay down on the soft moss of the tree and just stare at the clouds. The few times Miles turned his head to look at Heimdall he always looked so peaceful in the blinding sun. His favorite times were when it got dark and cloud watching turned into star gazing. Even when Miles thought he couldn't get any prettier, the light from the moon made his face glow like bifrost. The moonlight highlighted all his best features, which was his whole face but still.

Miles watched with great interest at the mundane rise and fall of Heimdall's chest. His face was blank but it held so much emotion. He truly was the most alluring person he had ever seen. Maybe it's the nostalgia rush from pondering the past but Miles swore he felt 15 again. He felt as he did everytime he was just hanging around Midgard and Heimdall appeared to brighten his day. He felt as he did that one time when he opened the door to his little wooden cabin and saw a tiny box on his porch and once he opened it, it was an onyx stone bead bracelet with a silver square with the dagaz rune on it. He wasn't entirely sure what that feeling was but it was a weird one. It made him dizzy and euphoric, as if he was floating. It made him have a funny feeling in his chest and stomach. It was weird but not unwelcome.

"Your thoughts are so loud, do you know that?" Miles snapped out of his thinking and jumped a tiny bit. "Hmm- they are? Sorry." Miles played with Heimdall's braids a little. "I'm done braiding your hair, by the way." Heimdall got up and instead of leaving he took off his shoes and his shirt and plopped down in Miles’s bed. "What are you doing?" Miles said as he sat next to him. "Going to sleep." Miles laughed.

"Yeah I can see that, my question is why are you sleeping in *my* bed. You have your own bed." Heimdall didn't respond. Miles shrugged and laid down next to him and opted for staring at his back. Miles sheepishly reached his hand out to his back and started connecting his freckles. After a few minutes of lightly running his finger along Heimdall's back, he spoke. "What are you doing?" Miles continued to connect the freckles to one another. "Making constellations." Miles circled a few of his freckles. "These few look like Grus." He circled a few more. "And these here look sorta like Andromeda." He tapped a few more of them. "This one is Lacerta."

Heimdall just hummed. He had his back turned to Miles so it wasn't very clear if he was drifting to sleep or just didn't know what to say. Miles peeked over his shoulder to get a better look at his face. He was smiling, he tried to act as if he wasn't when Miles looked but he was. Miles turned back over on his back and yawned. After a few minutes he heard light snoring coming from Heimdall, it was cute. He tried to go to sleep but he couldn't, after longer than he'd like to admit of tossing and turning he just draped an arm over Heimdall's torso. He was a bit nervous because he wasn't quite sure how Heimdall would react, or if he'd even like it.

Heimdall grabbed Miles's arm and pulled him closer. That's how Heimdall always was though. He was never scared to speak his mind or anything he just believed in actions speaking louder than words. When they were younger, Heimdall always seemed to give Miles something as an apology rather than just saying sorry. Whether it was something as easy to find as some pretty flowers or something like a new knife made by Sindri, that was always his way of apologizing and showing he cared without having to say it.

It was going to take the two of them a while to get used to this, there was gonna be a lot to work out but it was worth it. Because in the end they had each other, and even since they were young that's all they ever needed.

[madaqueue]

oooOOOOH this is so fun thank you for the tag my dear perce!!!!!!!!!

short things i'm working on rn:

too sweet | choso x reader (aphrodisiacs. this was the first thing i ever tried to write, it has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER and i may never finish it oops)

crybaby | satoru x reader (pegging. literally just fucking him stupid lmao)

trust fall | satoru x reader (established relationship + intox. i just.....wanna do stuff to him idk idk idk)

actual longer things:

tear my flesh, hold my hand, feel my warmth | suguru x reader (was originally going to be my contribution for flufftober but it just....got away from me. hoping to post it next week but i just keep adding things to it sldkfjlkdvn. all angst and fluff)

caged sentinel | sukuna x reader (was originally going to be in my kinktober but ended up being too much of a character study instead of porn lmao so now it's gonna be it's own piece. kidnapping, some predator/prey dynamics, all that good stuff)

the place where there is no darkness | satoru x reader (i have been working on this for almost 5 months and it's just...a lot. y'all will know when i get ready to post this but i want this to be the best thing i ever write. tbh i will be horribly scared to share it bc this fic has been my baby, it's already over 10k words and i still feel like i'm less than halfway done with it. some yandere, dubcon, horrible horrible mommy issues, etc)

tagging: @toadtoru @hiraethwrote @musouie @samaraxmorgan + anyone who has a pile of wips sitting in their drafts :))

wip tag game !

rules — list the names/titles of docs in your WIP folder + open your inbox to asks about them

thank you @wokelander for the tag <3 i always get distracted so some of these are partially written while others are just ideas! i'm sure i have more, but i can't find them right now lol

break up 'cause i'm bored | denji x best friend reader (cheating)

can't hold it | yuta x reader (piss)

stumbling in the dark | megumi x reader (step/incest)

lend a hand | satoru x reader

a perfect fit for me | yuji x reader

dumb mutt | naoya x puppy reader

keep them happy | nobara x reader x yuji (established nobara x reader)

like it better | leon kennedy x reader (age gap)

tagging: @papersirens @kentophilia @madaqueue @rosesaints @chositooo and anyone else who wants to! no pressure ofc <3

[insidekaz]

I'm in a bit of a creative overhaul...

No, I don’t mean creative burnout, but rather a spontaneous and spiteful sensation has over the creative gears in my mind and is allowing me, for once, to actually get long-postponed products done. Of course, this randomized sense of productivity wasn't based on much personal choice, but rather the procrastinated realization of being hurt by someone I believed I could trust. As the saying goes,

To be burned by the candle once is to remember the pain forever.

At least, I think that's how it goes. Can't really remember on if I've heard it from somewhere or if I just made it up one day.

Regardless,

I've been inspired to shove all creative output to the front of my mind and banish the negative connotations I have about myself to the back of my head until... I'm ready to deal with them.

Yes, I am aware that I'm constantly prolonging the possibility of talking about my problems, but let's not focus on that right now.

This post has been sitting in my draft for about three days longer than I've wanted it to, which is a bit concerning on my part, considering that I usually get these post done same day.

I've just been s t r e s s e d if that makes any sense. I'm behind on some projects, missed deadlines on others, and now I'm just sitting her wondering. All of these ideas I have in my head, written down, and the files are all put together, probably more put together than I'll ever be. Why is creating the final product so hard? Like, I'm all hyped up to get my work out there, yet actually reaching the finish line seems to be the fucking hardest thing, if that's a relatable feeling at all.

And I already know what you're thinking: "Kaz, if you're getting this stressed about content creation, maybe it just isn't for you."

Trust me, I've already been told that several times more than I want to. This is stressful, yes, but no one said that this was going to be easy, did they? I'm not stressed cause I think I won't succeed. I've had may more people tell me that my rather unorthodox way of thinking is entertaining. Hell, maybe I'll be able to actually monetize my antics and not be living paycheck to paycheck.

It's the fear of my madness being rejected that scares the shit out of me.

It's the very idea that my crazed mind will be further alienated from society than it already is that keeps me awake at night. I take anti-psychotics, but they less allow me to take a handle on my mind and moreso make me marginally more socially acceptable for the outside world. Trust me when I say that me off of my meds is an experience that's only comedic once.

FUCK

THIS

POST

IS

LONG

Prime example as to why I don't allow myself to go on full rants like this. If I allowed myself to get all of my thoughts out, I might get the attention of either a famous author who wants to take me under their wing or a few scientist who might wanna study me to see just how I tick on the inside. I better hop off for now. Might come back in a few days, might not. Don't worry, I'm not going to go and do something stupid. If I do, I'm sure someone who cares is gonna find me alive.