#a little rough around the edges but i'm glad i got it done

[nguyenfinity]

Last animation project of the semester! We were supposed to make a title sequence for a show/movie/game/whatever and I made one in an anime op-style of my OCs :]

[bokettochild]

I cannot BELIEVE no one told me we had an update!!!!!

Anyways, here's my favorite bits as always, because I need to SCREAM about this one!

The rupee acquisition!

I love how JoJo included that traditional *item acquired* pose that all the Links do, and gave it a reason in the comic (Wind insisting he hold it up is just so fun)

Sky's comment though, "don't spend it all in one place". Isn't that a line you get in Skord when you acquire rupees? The cute little easter eggs here are so fun!

I also really love how Legend is taking an instructional role here, both with Wars and the champion!

While also letting his veteran show

and I love that the rest recognize that! Wild calling Legend "an expert" and actually listening to what he has to say, even if he doesn't agree with it.

I also super like the panels of Twilight's interaction with Legend here

Very eldest and middle sibling discussing the youngest child, and I love it. It reminds us that, even for all the cuteness we got between them in the last arc, Twilight still sees Legend as too rough around the edges, enough that it borders on bullying when it comes to some of the rest, and he's trying to curb that. And Legend is LISTENING, because (as I've said a thousand times) Legend respects Twilight and values his opinion. Twilight is his big brother too now and Legend, while still being himself, genuinely seems to care about his opinion.

Twilight's just tense in general, although why, I think is mostly because of Time's sharp scolding in the last update. Even though he's snapping back at the younger ones, he's not very happy to be snapped at right now, and he's eager to get out from under Time's watchful eye.

Time and Warriors

Because while he feels e has grounds to correct Legend for telling Wild what to do, Warriors straight up subtly scolding his protege is different. And the difference is that Legend and Wild and Twi had camaraderie (see Dawn p.3), they're brothers, but Wars is approaching this as a commander, a captain, and Twi doesn't appreciate that. Warriors isn't their leader though, but he's taking that role anyways. (Old habits die hard, I'm sure)

I mean, we all knew Wars was going to confront Wild sooner or later, but I'm glad he was so calm about it. Twilight's ruffled feathers (fur) is more from Time being overbearing, I believe, so it aggravates any slight annoyance Warriors might present.

Even despite some of our suspicions earlier, I like this bit here. Wild was a soldier once, and the captain is very much the image of what he would have worked with before. JoJo mentioned wanting to play with that dynamic, with them bothering having military background, and I think this is that training (hundred years ago though it was) kicking in and making the champion defer to the man who outranks him (as far as they know). Granted, they all call Wars "Captain" but this felt pointed.

I do love Four acting as the word of wisdom here, advising Time, just like he does Twilight, as to the best way to handle a team. it's a reminder that he's done this before, and he knows how teamwork can be, but also that sometimes you need space and working together means working in different areas.

Anyways, here's a couple bonus things that make me happy!

Bunny stance!

(shh, I know he's making a point by stepping on Wild's toes, let me have this)

Wars being so freaking pretty! Dear Hylia help me! (Is it wrong I understand Cia a bit now?)

Wind being the youngest sibling who is Done With Your Chatter

A competent boy being competent (and not as experienced as Ledge, but pretty darn close (if you've played both their games you know))

Showing off items! (I can hear the little ✨da nana na✨)

And of course, I love Time being a tired, overprotective parent (he looks like my mom here, good grief!)

[valley-of-headcanons]

I love Penny and I don't like making her worried, but imagine her just staying up late waiting for the farmer. The farmer doesn't come home till like one am, giving her anxiety from Pam not coming home till late.

Could I request a one-shot or something with this idea?

1:43 AM || penny x farmer oneshot

“what if it was all my fault? what if i drove you to it?” -- drunk, running by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: rough depictions of drinking and neglectful parenting. penny has a panic attack and yells at you a little.

requested by: anon! hi, thank you so much for the request!! this made me so upset to write oh my god, but in a good way! i love requests that let me release some emotions. i feel bad for adding more penny trauma though. anyway! hope you enjoy :)

Mining was a rough job. Yes, it earned the farm a good bit of money. It was physically strenuous, mentally draining, and all around not the best way to spend your day. Penny knew the dangers all too well, and it worried her. She hated when you spent a day in the mines. She was always worried about your health, fighting the monsters that crawled within. She was especially worried on nights like these; nights when you don't come in until one in the morning.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Penny nervously picked at her nails. This habit had been finally beat after getting out of her old house, but it seemed to reappear on nights like this. Nights where it was just past 1:30 in the morning, and there was no sign of her beloved. Who knows what you were out there doing? She tried to trust you as much as she could, but ... with everything from her mom, it was hard.

“Mom ...?” Penny would say, her seven year old frame only covered by a thin blanket on the couch. She had fended for herself that night, stealing chips from the cabinet since Pam didn't make it home until just after 1:30. She was worried sick, shaking as she sat curled up with a stuffed animal.

Pam stumbled into the trailer, sitting beside Penny silently. She didn't say anything, just sat beside her daughter as she finished the bottle she held in her hand. It seems like Gus had to kick her out mid-drink. She always went strangely silent when she was upset.

“I-I'll uh ... I'll go to bed now, I-I was just worried ... I'm glad you're home and safe though, Mom!” Penny said with a big, gap-toothed smile. She tried her hardest to brighten Pam's day, but it always met with disappointment.

Pam didn't respond, waving her off as she laid down on the couch. She crashed, the bottle falling from her hand onto the ground. Thankfully, it didn't break. Penny walked closer, taking the bottle off of the floor. Her hands were shaking, trying not to wake her mom up. She glanced at the clock. 1:43 AM. Was every night going to be like this from now on?

Thunder cracked, snapping Penny out of her thoughts as she gazed at the clock on your bedside table. 1:43 AM. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she bounced her leg. Her eyes stared holes through the door, pulling the blanket onto her lap. She couldn't tell if the shaking was due to her anxiety or the cold.

Thoughts raced throughout Penny's mind. What if you were hurt? What if you were still stuck down in the mines, and you wouldn't make it home? What if you were just out on the town instead, ignoring her? Why would you ever want to come home to her, she's just a pathetic housewife. That's all she'll ever be, right? What if you picked up a bottle that Penny would have to take from you, just like she had done so many times before?

Her thoughts were silenced as she heard the click of the doorknob. Seeing you in the doorway, a little scratched up but mainly unscathed, she didn't know how to feel. She was relieved to see you safe and back again, but she was still upset. It was written all over her. Her pale face, her shaking body, her trembling lip. You saw it almost immediately.

“Hey, Pen ... everything okay? Sorry I was out late, I got a little carried away. There's not enough time in a day ... I didn't expect to see you still awake. You're always pretty early to bed when I'm around,” you said, putting your backpack down on the ground and kneeling in front of her. “... why are you upset, Pen?”

Penny didn't respond for a moment. She calculated her next statement. It came out in a squeak, getting extremely choked up. She just sniffed and stood, trying to walk off. Penny made her way down the basement stairs wiping tears, and you were on your way right behind her.

“Hey,” you said, taking her hand in yours. “Please, talk to me. I'll listen, I promise. Anything that's on your mind, I'm all ears, 'kay?”

Penny couldn't look you in the eye. Her stomach was tied in knots and her voice was trembling. “S-Sorry, I just got all worried- I didn't know where you were and if you were safe and what you were doing- and- and- I was having a lot of bad thoughts and ... I'm sorry! I- ... I don't know why I freak out like this! ... m-my mom, she- ... y'know ... you know her.”

You nodded, listening to her stammer over her words. You gently placed the palms of your hands on her cheeks, holding her face and wiping her tears. “What can I do to stop those bad thoughts? I'll do anything you ask and then some, my love. What do you need me to do from now on?”

She looked into your eyes for the first time that night. They held so much love and care for her. But they held something much more important. They held the motivation that her mother lacked. Penny's eyes started dripping even faster, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you close. She sobbed into your shoulder for a moment, finally feeling like she was taken care of.

“J-Just ... let me know if you're gonna be out late, or somethin' ... and why, I guess? I- ... I'm sorry for being all needy, I just ... I-” Penny stammered on once more, before being silenced by your thumb pressing to her lips.

“You don't have to explain if you don't want to. I'm here to take care of you, regardless of why. I'll try my best to let you know, and I won't let you worry like that again. You don't have to worry about me, but I know you will anyway. Because you love me. And that's perfectly okay. Is there anything that we can do right now to make it better?” you asked, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She sniffed, trying to calm herself down. “Can we just ... rest? I wanna lay in your arms and uh- ... forget everything, if that's okay. I don't wanna think about all this stuff anymore,” she said in a gentle tone. She was weak, remembering all of the things she went through made her weak. She needed to rest.

You picked her up and carefully laid her down on the bed. Laying down beside her, you pulled her close to your chest and ran your fingers through her hair. You turned on the TV for some background noise, but neither of you were paying attention to it. She was fast asleep, her head resting carefully on your chest. She was lulled to sleep by the sound of your gentle heartbeat. You stayed awake for a little while, holding her and making sure she felt safe. The love you two shared could push through anything, even something like this.

[creepling]

The “make it Quick” fic was SO GOOD I need more! If that’s okay?

I love the idea of him being so mean, name calling, hair pulling, choking, slapping and manhandling reader. Just aggressive Dom leon addressing reader as his little slut or whore, I drool 🤤

on edge - leon s. kennedy | <1k

a/n: thanks anon!! i'm glad you liked it. dom!leon just never leaves my mind, i just want him to bully me :^) but i hope you like this, i kinda rushed it so i hope it's ok ://

tags: MINORS DNI, smut with no plot, dom!leon, fem!reader, degrading, rough missionary, use of 'slut' and 'whore', bratty reader, swearing, choking, slapping, rough.

“You better get your shit together. I ain’t done with you,” Leon demanded, lifting you from the floor.

Your knees ached from kneeling, drool pooling in your mouth, half agape as it was just getting used to Leon’s cock. Leon smirked at your dumbfounded expression, squeezing your cheeks and pouring his stare into your distant eyes.

“You okay there?” He teased, “Does the slut need a break?”

You chuckled weakly, your eyes staring back at him with determination. Your underwear grew wet from your arousal. You could feel it drip down your legs. With Leon’s firm hold on your face, you shook your head. “We’re just getting started,” You challenged.

Leon’s smirk widened. His hardened cock twitched. “You’re right about that,”

Taking you by surprise, Leon gripped your arm and threw you onto the bed. You landed on your back, instinctively opening your legs and introducing him to your wet pussy, pushing your thong to one side. The teasing got to Leon. He slides his top off and kicks his trousers to the ground. The sight of him was godly, sweat glistening on his biceps, his strong hand stroking the cock you desperately wanted inside you.

“That’s it, lay there like the fucking whore you are,” Leon retorted. You knew exactly how to drive him wild—doing anything to set him over the edge and give him reason to punish you.

“Just hurry up and fuck me,” You pleaded, witnessing Leon’s eyes darken.

You squealed in anticipation as Leon looped his arms under your legs and pulled you towards him, the tip of his neck stroking against your entrance. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, giving his hands access to your throat, where his fingers lightly wrapped around.

“Poor lil’ slut, always begging for me,” He harped, his hot breath fogging over your face. He thrusts, and his cock enters, your pussy tightening around him. Even after plenty of fuck sessions, you can never get used to his length. You let out a hitched breath, transitioning into an airy moan.

“Come on, baby. You can take me. Ffckk, that’s it – you fucking slut,” Leon groaned, pumping his cock in and out. His fingers trailed to your neck’s pressure point, gently squeezing it. “You like it when I choke you like this, hm?”

Your hands gripped his forearms, hips grinding upwards to his thrusts, begging him to go deeper with your body language. “H-Harder, Leon,” You managed to say, “go harder . . .”

At your request, Leon buried his cock deeper inside your pussy. “My pleasure,” He chuckled, “anything for my stupid little slut.”

Overstimulated, short outbursts of moans left your mouth; open in shock at the pleasure taking over your body. You never wanted this to stop.

“God, look at you – getting fucked dumb,” Leon picked up the pace of his thrusts. Your eyes are half-lidded, consumed by arousal. Your arms fell to your sides, all strength leaving your body as you submitted.

Leon took his hand and lightly smacked your cheek, breaking you back into consciousness. “Look at me,” He demanded, “keep your eyes on me – fuckkk.”

“Oh my god,” the feeling of him slapping you lingering and begging for more. “Harder – aah – smack me harder!”

Leon slapped you harder this time, the pain mixing with the pleasure. “You like this? Jesus, you’re so fucked up,” he teased. His hand gripped your hair, pulling your head forward, your eyes glued to his cock pumping in and out of your tight hole.

“This is what a whore like you deserves – mmm – getting fucked like this,” He muttered. He took your thighs and pressed them down to your body, his cock deeper inside you with your pussy on full display. “Bet you like this? Getting fucked so good? – Aah – you drive me crazy. Stupid fucking slut.”

Leon's thrusts were uncontrollable as he bullied you with his words. He did not stop as you begged him to go faster.

“Yes, I’m your stupid slut,” you whimpered, “keep fucking me – keep fucking me like that – mmph!”

“Good girl,” Leon purred, your whimpers music to his ears. “You take my cock so well,”

[yanderepuck]

Kinktober Day 8

AND WE'RE BACK FOR A FOURTH TIME. It's that lovely time of the year where I write mediocre smut with no plot for a whole month. So sit your ass down and take a few minutes to read some smut.

As always, kinktober is held by our local Napoleon simp, @xxsycamore

If you'd like to read the last three years, go here

Remember to reblog and tell me what you think

Workplace Sex | Sex in a vehicle

Opening night was over and everything was a success. You and Will are the last ones at the theater, making sure everything is where it should be and to lock up.

You just finished your rounds and you sit on some props back stage, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

"Finally. Done," you yawn and look around, trying to listen to figure out where Will is. "What time is it?" You mumble to yourself. It's got to be close to midnight.

You hear footsteps and start to stand up. Once you are up Will is standing right next to you.

"Many thanks," he kisses you.

"I'm glad to help," you smile. You push one of his longer pieces of hair out of his face.

Will sits down on the floor to relax for a bit. "Did thee enjoy the play?"

"I did!" You sit back down next to him. "It was so romantic. The way the two characters loved each other was beautiful."

You sigh happily and lay back. You look up at the ceiling where there's a bunch of ropes and lights hanging. The lights are dimmed until the two of you have and turn them off the rest of the way.

"I was really surprised by the one scene."

"Hm? Which one?"

He looks at you a little concerned, not sure if it's a good surprise.

"The love scene. In a lot of plays, the writers just allude to them having sex, but you come out and say it. I would have thought the people of this time would find that scandalous."

Will can't help but laugh. Did you offend him? Or did you get it wrong? Are you remembering the play right?

"Writing those scenes is nothing new to me," he lays down on his side propping his head up from his elbow. "I wrote them even in my own time."

"You did?" You are quickly trying to remember all his plays at once, trying to think of another time he has done it.

"It has been some time. For that I have you to blame," he closes the gap and kisses you.

"Me? But why me?"

"You are my muse," you quickly see a smirk on his face before he gets on top of you, kissing you again. "Who else would make me wish to write scenes so 'scandalous'?"

"I can't possibly be that inspirational," even though you are fully aware he only started to write romances again because of you.

"Oh you are," his hands find yours, interlocking your fingers and holding them against the wooden floor. "Why not inspire me more?" His two colored eyes look down at you, teasing you, telling you what to do.

You lean up and kiss him. He kisses you back harder. You match his roughness. No. You get rougher. It becomes a battle of who is rougher.

Will holds your hands tighter. You tilt your head, opening your mouth into the kiss. Starting to moan, your body lifts off the floor to press against his.

You try to break your hands away. The first tug didn't work but the second tug did. He let your hands go so he could touch your body, pulling up your shirt.

Your hands graze across the front of his pants, wanting to feel how hard he is. You hear a hitch in his breath. Your fingers go to the waist of his pants trying to get them off.

The kiss finally breaks when you're both starting to undress.

"Let us use the bed," he sits up, pushing hair out of his face.

"The bed? Isn't it just a prop?" you look over, it's not that far away from you, but is it stable?

"It is safe," he stands up and pulls you to your feet. When the bed isn't needed for a play it is normally covered in boxes and other props. It can definitely hold some weight.

Leading you to the bed, you ditch your shirt along the way. You quickly sit on the edge, your hands getting his pants undone and to the floor. As you scoot back onto the bed you kick your skirt off and watch him lift his shirt over his head.

By the time you are settled he is on top of you, between your legs and ready. He kisses you again and spreads your legs wider. You feel his tip press against you.

You try to move closer, trying to get his tip in you.

"You were so tired, but now," he chuckles.

"J-just hurry."

I'm a swift motion his cock slides into you. You had gotten wet so quickly that he slid all the way in no issue.

Your arms wrap around him, keeping him close. His cock slid in and out with ease. Your moans quickly pick up, echoing through the empty theater.

He lifts one of your legs and thrusts rougher.

"Ahh! F-fuck!"

His hand runs through your hair, pulling it as he goes. The bed creaks under you, but with Will so deep in you it's not even on your mind.

"Seeing your face when you're filled gives me all the inspiration I need."

"W-Will," you moan his name, you nails going across his back.

"Louder," he smirks and leans in to talk in your ear. "The back row needs to hear you."

He tugs your hair more while his other hand grabs your hip, shifting you slightly.

"Will!" You buck your hips up for him, and claw at his back. You start panting

"Good girl," his lips move from your ear down to your neck, starting to kiss you there. "Now say your next line."

He tugs your head to one side while his tongue glides across your neck.

You pause for a moment, not quite sure what he's asking for you to say.

"Y-your cock feels so goo-ahh!" Before you can finish your sentence Wills fangs pierce into your neck. The pain barely lasts a second before you get overwhelmed with pleasure to the point of cumming.

Your nails dig into him while you tighten around him. He keeps going, getting rougher as he feels himself getting closer.

"Ungh..ahh Will, give me y-your cum."

Just as he removes his fangs from you, he thrusts into you roughly, emptying himself into you. His fingers dig into your hip and only release once he's done.

The two of you lay there panting, trying to get yourselves together before you try finding the energy to collect your clothes.

"Don't we have to come back here tomorrow? Why don't we just sleep here," you grumble, not wanting to get up.

Will chuckles and sits up, starting to get off the bed. "I shall call us a carriage so you don't need to walk."

[thrandilf]

Oof, yeah. People in fandom spaces really love making every parent abusive, and the way they so desperately want to pretend that it‘s canon is exhausting.

I‘m baffled every time I see it. Parent barely raises their voice, and doesn’t immediately whisper an apology?

ABUSE

Parent puts their foot down in any situation where they are at odds with their kid?

ABUSE

Parent grieves a little too hard for a little too long, and isn’t present at 100% capacity?

ABUSE

And it always feels like surface level teen angst that is blown way out of proportion. It‘s especially telling when you notice the pattern of 'the child has never done anything wrong, ever, in their life.' Because at that point the projecting, and not wanting to take responsibility for their own actions becomes painfully obvious. Because blaming the parents is easier than accepting a characters flaws.

(unless these flaws are; 'cares too much' or 'being insecure'. Because those are cutesy enough I guess 🙄)

AND THEN there is the fact that, putting actual mythology aside, Nezha and Red Son are treated as LITERAL ADULTS IN THE SHOW.

*incomprehensible screaming*

Sorry for the vent, I got a little heated. But I‘m so fucking glad there’s at least some people in the fandom who agree that the bastardizing of characters is getting way out of hand.

I'm right here with you anon I've also been a bit heated but YEAH

No what kills me about LMK is how the parents in question may be a bit gruff/rough around the edges, DBK is someone who's generally like that regardless of who he's talking to

But never does Red Son or Nezha even face consequences when they do screw up in their parent's eyes

Like abusive parents will have that undercurrent of Bad even when nothing's gone wrong but here even when THEY DO fuck up there's no consequences

And when they don't it isn't a Toxic Bad dynamic either

AND AS YOU SAY Red Son and Nezha are also both portrayed as adults in LMK and while they do want to make their parents proud and care about their opinion they are on much more of a peer level than someone would be if they were an actual kid/teen

Same with Mei because I've seen bad takes on her parents but in canon it's literally just "we don't see eye to eye/we have our own familial/cultural expectations which you don't share but we love you and are proud of you and we don't care that our entire house is wrecked and that you took the sword we're glad you have it" like HELLO? But people will act like she should cut them off or they're bad parents

Like Mei and Nezha's parents both overtly say they're proud in the limited screentime they have while caring about their children who they naturally have differences with but that's It.

And Red Son's parents are down to just do whatever he wants I guess re food truck family business and it's just. oh yeah I'm sure they don't value his opinion huh like sure DBK likes cooking but this was clearly Red Son's idea.

[rowyn-writes]

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Five

Warnings: Self hate, mentions of abusive ex, mentions of a minor character death, fluff

Characters: Reader, Dean, Michael, Jo

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

You had been living with Dean for five weeks now, and everything felt surprisingly normal. You both woke up early in the morning for work, so you got to have breakfast together. You liked having someone to talk to before going to work.

It was five in the morning as you and Dean shuffled around the kitchen in a comfortable silence. You had made some eggs and bacon for the both of you while Dean got ready for work. Since Dean passed the coffee shop to get to work, he would drop you off, and in return, you made him coffee to get him ready for the day. 

"Mornin' sweetheart." Dean grumbles as he comes out of his room, yawning. His hair was still tousled from sleep. You chuckle softly at the sight.

"Morning, Dean. Forget to brush your hair?" You snorted. Dean laughs as he smooths down his hair.

"Maybe I was trying out a new style, Y/n, ever think of that?" He sniffed, pretending to be mad.

"Aw, c'mon now, you never change up your routine, so I find that highly unlikely. And besides, you can't be mad at me forever, I made you breakfast." You set his plate down on the table, pouring a glass of orange juice for him.

"I got damn lucky to have you as a roommate." He sighed happily as he ruffles your hair before sitting down at the table, tucking into his breakfast.

"I could say the same." You smile as you eat with him. Storm was still asleep on the window seal. Despite Dean buying a cat bed for him to get into his good graces, the cat refused to actually sleep in the bed. He just sniffed at it before going back to what he was doing.

Once you and Dean were finished with breakfast, he took the plates and put them in the dishwasher, starting a load. You went and grabbed your apron for work before heading out the door with Dean, sliding into his beautiful Impala. "I hope you know that if I actually still drove, I'd totally wanna take Baby for a joyride." You joked.

Dean laughs softly, his eyes crinkling up at the edges. "You're more than welcome to drive her anytime you need, sweetheart. I won't stop you."

"Oh, um, nah." You shook your head gently. "I don't really drive anymore. I um, I got into a really bad car crash about a year ago and I don't really drive anymore because of it." It was the first time you had really talked about the car crash with anyone other than Jo or Jack.

"I'm sorry to hear about that sweetheart. Was everyone alright?" He frowns, looking over at you.

"Oh, um, yeah, I just had a broken arm. . . The other driver was okay too." 

Dean could tell that you wanted to drop the subject. "So, I was thinking, you don't work tomorrow, right? And you're done with exams?"

"Yeah, why?" You tilt your head curiously.

"Well," Dean said as he pulled into the parking lot of Chuck's. "I was thinking that tonight we go to my favorite bar and have some drinks, my treat. They're having karaoke tonight too, and I think it would be a lot of fun."

You mulled it over for a moment. You didn't drink much, but you thought this would be a good chance to get to know Dean a little better and let loose some. "I think that'd be a lot of fun, actually." You give him a gentle smile. 

"Perfect, I get off work tonight at 5. I'll pick you up and take you home on my lunch break, I don't want you walking home alone or anything." Dean gives you a boyish grin, the one that you had come to adore. 

"Thanks, Dean, you have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness." And it was true. Dean was kind to you when it felt like you hit rock bottom. Being evicted from you apartment was rough, and you never expected him to offer his home up to you. Even though you hadn't known Dean long, you trusted him, and it seems that he trusted you. You hated to think about where you'd be without him right now.

"Don't mention it, sweetheart. I'm just glad I could help you out. I've been where you've been before. My life has never been put together in the slightest, and there was a time when I had no place to go. I really could have used some help, and I want to be that person for you." He said softly, looking over at you.

"Well, I know I'm not much, but I'm here, and I can be the support you need. We can help each other." You offer him a gentle smile.

"I like the sound of that, Y/n, thank you." You lean over and give him a quick hug. 

"I'll see you on your lunch break, then. Let me go make your coffee really quick." You went in and unlocked the doors, making Dean a brown sugar latte and grabbed him a scone before bringing it out to him. "Have a good day at work." I reach through the window and ruffle his hair before heading back inside to tackle the day.

Jo was the next person scheduled to come in, and you hoped it was one of those rare days that she was actually on time. You had talked to her many times before about her punctuality, but it never seemed to stick with her. She was your best friend, and you didn't want to have to reprimand her, but it seemed that it was going to have to come to that. Thankfully, she was on time today, and you didn't have to say anything to her.

"Thank god my car started." She said as she walked in, clocking in on the computer. "I was scared she wasn't gonna crank. I really need a new car."

"Well, you're here, that's all that matters. Today's a Wednesday, so I'm expecting it to be a good day for us. This is usually our dead day, so I think it should be okay with just the two of us until eleven when Maddison comes in."

The day went off without a hitch, the customers were nice, it was a slow day, and everything seemed peaceful. That is, until the end of your shift. Dean was on his lunch break and he was waiting for you to clock out so he could take you home. He didn't mind hanging out in the coffee shop, as he found it rather peaceful. The front door dinged, signaling that there was a customer inside. "Hey, welcome to Chuck's! We'll be right w-" You broke off as you stared up at the man in front of you. Michael. You could feel your heart pounding out your chest as he glared down at you. You hadn't seen him in nearly two months, what made him want to come confront you now?

"We need to talk." He said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was 6'3 and he towered over you. It was something that had always intimidated you, especially when you were together.

"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave." You tried to make your voice sound strong and determined, but it came out as just a small squeak. You hated the affect he had on you. For years he made you feel small, and even after the break up, he could still make you feel that way.

"Oh we have plenty to talk about, Y/n. Like how one day you just changed the locks to the apartment and had all of my stuff sitting out in the hall?"

"And you're just now wanting to talk about this, huh? You had nearly two months to reach out to me and to talk about this, but you picked now as the prime opportunity? When I'm at work?"

"Oh please," He scoffed. "You can hardly call this a job. Besides, I've been busy with other things." Dean's head perked up at the sound of arguing. He looked over at you and Michael. He could clearly tell you were in distress.

"Michael, just fucking leave. You're not welcomed here. Our relationship is over and there's absolutely nothing for us to talk about. You cheated, you were abusive, you were a shitty ass boyfriend. What else do you want me to say? I've listed a billion reasons as to why we broke up and you still can't accept that."

"Don't speak to me like that." He grabbed your wrist. "I guess I better teach you some manners." You try to pull away from his grasp. Before you could even shout for help, a fist connected with Michael's jaw. 

Dean looked pissed as he grabbed Michael by the shirt, slamming him against the wall. "What kind of pathetic coward lays hands on a woman?" He growled as he punched him again. "Come near Y/n ever again, and I swear to God himself, there will not be anything stopping me from beating you within an inch of your sad life. Got it?!"

You had never seen Dean so angry before, let alone get physical with someone. "And what's it to you, huh?! Why the hell do you care for some whore so much? Oh, I get it, you're fucking her, huh?" Michael laughed, throwing his head back.

Dean said nothing in return as he punched him once more before throwing him out to door. "Don't ever come near her again." Dean snarled before going to check on you. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? I swear to God-"

"Dean. . ." You hugged him tightly. "I'm okay, he didn't hurt me. . . Thank you for sticking up for me." You whisper, tears in your eyes. Maddison and Jo watched as Dean wrapped his arms around you protectively. 

"No one's going to hurt my best girl on my watch, I promise you that." He said lowly, gently rubbing your back. "I'm guessing he's your ex boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he is. . . I thought I was finally free of him, but he keeps popping back up like an infectious disease." You were holding back tears, not wanting to cry in front of Dean.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get out of here." He wrapped his arm around you and led you out to his car. "Do you need me to stay with you? I can tell Bobby something came up." 

You shook your head gently. "No, that's okay. . . I don't want to impose. I'll be okay until you get off work tonight. . . Honestly, I don't even what to think about what just happened. And it doesn't even surprise me that he came here. I guess I was just hoping he'd forget about me." You ramble on, looking at your hands.

"You wouldn't be imposing, sugar." He said, his voice soft and gentle. "If you need me, I'm here, okay? There's not much goin' on at the shop today, so Bobby can afford to be on his own for the rest of the day."

You felt tears brim your eyes as you kept looking at your hands, refusing to look Dean in the eye. "I-I could use some company. . . If t-that's okay." You whispered quietly. Dean tilts your head up gently with his finger so you would look at him.

"I'll stay with you as long as you need, darlin'." He then surprised you by kissing your head. He was so caring and gentle with you, which was something you weren't used to. He drove back to the house, letting you pick the music for the drive. Once you got back, he called Bobby and explained the situation before following you inside. He grabbed some blankets and popped some popcorn. "So, what movie should we watch? Comedy, rom-com, action?" 

"You really don't have to do this for me, Dean. . ." You felt like a burden. You made Dean call out of work just so he could sit here and watch a movie with you. You were an awful friend and roommate.

"You're right, I don't have to, but I want to. . . You're my best friend, Y/n, I want to make sure that you're okay. You've had a stressful day, and you need to unwind a bit. Plus, work was slow, wasn't much for me to do. I'd much rather sit here with my favorite girl and cheer her up." He sits down beside you, draping his arm on the back of the couch. 

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you let the tears flow. "I-I just want to be rid of him. He never let's me have any peace."

"Shh," Dean whispered softly, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm here sweetheart. . . He won't hurt you as long as I'm around, okay?" He kissed your head again, making you feel comfort. Storm jumped up on the couch, settling himself in your lap, purring softly. "See, darlin'? Even Storm's here to help you." That made the tears stream down your face harder. It felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything that you had held in from the break up came bursting out all at once, despite your attempts at pushing it down. Dean held you in his arms as you cried. "Breathe, Y/n, I need you to breathe for me, okay?" He murmured gently. You tried to breathe, but it just came out as choked sobs. Your body was shaking as you cried. Dean let you know that he was here, and that you were safe. You knew he was right. Being in his arms was the safest place for you. You knew that Dean would never hurt you, and that he would do everything in his power to protect you. 

Once you had calmed down, you found your voice. "Thank you for being here." Your voice was raw and hoarse from crying. Dean didn't mention it, he just smiled softly, kissing your temple.

"Of course, sweetheart. What are friends for?" He continued to run his fingers through your hair, as he could tell that's what was keeping you grounded. "We don't have to go out tonight, we can go some other time, I'm sure that you're tired after the day you've had."

You thought it over for a moment. "Actually, I think I still want to go out tonight. . . I just need to feel normal, and show that what he did doesn't get to me." You state confidently.

Dean grins at your confidence. "That's my girl." He let you get ready for your night out with him. You picked a pair faded ripped jeans from your draw, a black blouse, and a black leather jacket. You combed through your hair, trying to find a style you liked, eventually settling on having it braided. You came out of your room with a smile. Dean let out a low whistle as he saw you.

"You clean up nicely, darlin'." He grins. He was wearing a green flannel over a black shirt that fit him nicely and a pair of faded blue jeans. You couldn't help but smile at the compliment. 

"Thanks, De. Shall we get going?" You grab you wallet as Dean grabs his keys.

"Let's go." He smiles, resting a hand on the small of your back as he leads you out the door. You were very aware of his hand against your back. But you shouldn't be thinking about that. Dean was your friend and roommate. You couldn't risk anything. You slid into the Impala as Dean going into the drivers seat. You grinned as the car roared to life. The car was absolutely gorgeous, and you'd love to have an old car like this. That is, if you still drove. Past pains rear its ugly head into your thoughts, making you think of things you wish you could forget. You push it aside. Tonight was about having fun with your best friend.

You showed the bouncer your ID and you were let into the bar with Dean. It was packed since it was karaoke night. You and Dean slid up to the bar, you ordered your favorite drink and Dean got a whiskey and coke. "So, ya thinking about gettin' up there and singing?" Dean smirked as he looked to you.

"Me? Nah, I can't really sing." You shrugged.

"One, that's bullshit. I hear you singing in the shower all the time and you sound amazing. And two, no one who sings karaoke can sing. I'll do it with you if you sing." He offered you up a smile. You could never resist that boyish smile he had.

"I hate you, I hope you know that." Despite your words, you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

"Say what you want sweetheart. But hey, you get to pick the song and I can't complain."

"Oh really?" You smirked. "So if I picked a Taylor Swift song, you wouldn't say anything?"

"Hey, I can get down with TSwizzle, okay?" Dean held up his hands in defense. You couldn't help the laughter that racked through your body. 

"You did not just say TSwizzle-" You continued to laugh, Dean joining in.

"All I'm sayin' is that you can pick whatever song you like."

You went up to the karaoke machine, scrolling through until you found the perfect duet for you two. I Remember Everything by Zach Bryan and Kacey Musgraves. "We're up next." You grin as you pull Dean towards the stage. Dean followed you up on stage, grabbing the mic. "Ready?" Dean nods as the song starts. Despite having never heard the song, he did it justice. You never knew Dean could sing. When you sang your parts together, Dean smiled over at you, his eyes gleaming. Once the song was over, he helped you down from the stage.

"Y/n, you were amazing! I knew you had a good voice, but damn, that was beautiful." He praised you, gently patting your shoulder.

"Me? Dean, I had no idea you could sing like that. You were fantastic!" You gently punch his shoulder.

Dean chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his ears turn pink. "Thank you, sweetheart, I appreciate it." He grinned.

"Aaand I think that some of the girls over there found your singing attractive." You chuckled as you looked over to a group of girls that were eyeballing Dean. "You should go talk to them!" You encouraged.

"Nah," He shook his head. "This night is about you and me, and celebrating our friendship." He gave you a smile. You couldn't help the small butterflies you felt in your stomach. Instead of going off with a girl, he wanted to spend time with you. But at the same time, you felt bad, because you felt like you were keeping him from having a fun time.

You felt like screaming at yourself, because you always did this. Every time there was something good going in your life, you found a way to get in your head and overthink things. You wished you could turn those voices in your head off. Sometimes those voices got particularly loud, especially in times like these. You tried to push them away and have a good time with Dean, but you couldn't help it.

"You okay, Y/n? You got really quiet all of a sudden." Dean said softly. Damnit, he knew you too well.

"Oh, yeah, it's um, it's just been a long day, y'know?" You cleared your throat, looking up at him.

"We can head home if you'd like?" He suggested, tilting his head to the side.

"No no, I'd hate to be a bother. You look like you're having so much fun, and I don't want to ruin that." You spoke softly.

"Sweetheart, if you're tired or you just don't feel up to being here anymore, you can tell me. I won't be upset. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like you have to stay for my sake. Besides, I don't care where we are, as long as we're together, I'm happy to spend time with you."

You gave him a soft smile. "I just don't think I'm in the right headspace right now." You sighed. "It's just been a long day with a lot going on. . . I promise to make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/n, we can just spend some time together and watch a movie if you'd like?"

"I'd really like that, De. . . Thank you." You whispered gently. Dean ruffled your hair and went to pay for the tab. You rode home in a comfortable silence as Dean hummed along to the radio. You were stuck in your own head again, per usual. You were leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass on your cheek.

"Are you sure everything's alright, sweetheart?" He asked, looking over to you. "You've been awfully quiet."

"I dunno, I'm just really struggling mentally today. After everything that happened this afternoon, I just feel so. . . empty?"

"I get it darlin'. What do you need? Do you need some time by yourself, or do you wanna curl up on the couch with me and watch some Dr. Sexy MD?" He questioned, his voice gentle.

"I think that spending some time with you could help. . ." You couldn't help but smile. You felt safe with Dean, and even though you were having a tough time, you knew that everything was going to be okay as long as you were with him.

[adidastain]

i have something to tell you

90s matt stone x ftm reader (blurb)

a/n: this is something i whipped up real quick for my own comfort cus i've felt so shitty the past few days. i'm actually really glad i wrote this cus not only did it make me feel better but i also don't hate it and it's my first time writing ftm reader (i'm ftm. idk if you could assume from my prns (he/him) despite the fact that i primarily write fem reader fics but yes i am ftm) so this is for all my t-brothers in the mattrey fandom <3 obviously if you're cis you can read it all you want i love u all no matter what :) enjoy

other notes: some suggestive dialogue at the end, all lowercase, 2847 words

--

“hey,” matt said to me. i was standing in the kitchen, washing dishes from the night before. i hated touching the food grime stuck to the porcelain, but it needed to be done.

“hi,” i said, putting on a small smile and leaning sideways to accept his kiss to my cheek, which he held for a few seconds. i felt my face grow warm. he was so good at making me blush. 

my smile quickly faded, however. something had been on my mind all day that kept me constantly terrified. i just hoped that he would make me feel better, enough so that my gloom would go away and i wouldn’t bring his mood down too. 

matt set his coat and stuff down on the kitchen table, before coming back over to me and wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. i leaned back against his broad chest, tilting my head as he kissed the crook of my neck. 

“how was your day?” he asked me. 

“fine,” i hummed, scrubbing the inside of a plastic cup. 

“not,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows. “you know i know that ‘fine’ means not fine.” 

“it was fine,” i insisted, looking at him. “just uneventful.” 

“m’kay,” he said, still suspicious. “i missed you a lot.” 

“i missed you too,” i sighed. that was true. i missed him more and more every day. nothing in our lives had changed, i just felt like he was slipping away from me solely because i was the distant one. i just tried to cherish what i had before it would all go to shit. i was terrified. 

“wanna watch a movie tonight?” he asked, kissing my ear. i felt matt’s hand travel down my waist, rubbing over the swell of my ass and giving it a light squeeze. 

i giggled, pushing him away with my back. i was relieved that he was still able to make me laugh and feel all warm inside. i loved him so much. 

“hm?” he hummed, pushing his question. 

“sure,” i said, washing the dish germs off my hands before drying them off with a towel. 

…

we ended up choosing a pretty depressing movie. neither of us knew it would be such a rough watch, but we got through it and i felt pretty shitty. matt pulled me closer as the credits rolled, most likely able to see that i was troubled. 

no words were said; he just caressed my face with both hands and looked into my eyes. i stared back, taking in the feeling that it gave me to share that contact with him. it would be gone soon, i was sure of it. that look of love he gave me would soon turn into one of betrayal, disgust, disappointment. 

of course, the thought brought tears to my eyes, which he immediately noticed. 

“i’m sorry,” he apologized. “i didn’t know the movie was like that. i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay,” i exhaled, swallowing harshly through a tight throat. “i’m okay.” 

i giggled slightly, hoping to rid him of his concern and make myself feel a little better too. matt buried his slender fingers into my hair, holding my head close to his shoulder. for a moment, i sat there, letting him hold me. my hands tentatively made their way around his neck, pressing him against me as i felt a sob threatening to escape me. 

“i don’t think you are,” he sighed, his voice cracking. that pushed me over the edge. i broke down, tears soaking spots in his shirt as i buried my face in his shoulder. 

matt adjusted so that his arms were wrapped completely around my waist, holding my body flat against his. his lips pressed against my neck and cheek periodically, warm and soft. 

“talk to me,�� he told me, his hand trailing up and down my back. “you haven’t been yourself lately.

i didn’t understand what he meant by that. i guess he could tell that i had been feeling down, but it was ironic. i’d been feeling down because i was terrified to tell him what i’d discovered about myself. how everything i hated about myself throughout my entire life was all because of one thing that i was absolutely petrified to share with him. it was myself, yet he had no idea. 

“i don’t want to make you upset,” i sobbed, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt as if he were trying to get away and i didn’t want him to leave. 

“baby,” he said softly. he smiled, looking into my eyes. “i don’t want you to be upset either. whatever it is, it’ll be better if we talk about it.” 

maybe he was right. maybe we could work it out. maybe he would be willing to give himself a different label and call me by a different name, if we could work it out. 

i sniffled, staring into his eyes and wishing he could just read my mind so i didn’t have to put it into words and fuck everything up. i could ruin my entire life with my next words.  

matt sat patiently, looking at me with concerned yet infinitely loving eyes. i spent my last few seconds with those eyes taking in their beauty, relishing the feeling they gave me when they peered into me with dilated pupils and relaxed lids. just a few more seconds, and i may never get them back. 

“i hate myself,” i choked, practically whispering. matt’s face dropped, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“you-“ 

“i’m not finished,” i squeaked, my voice wavering as i felt tears welling again. “please believe me when i say… i-i love you more than anything, matt. you are so important to me a-and-“ 

i cut myself off when i felt his thumb wipe a tear away from my eye. that only made me cry more. 

“you’re killing me,” matt swallowed. “i’m getting really worried.” 

“i’m sorry,” i said, nearly gauging my eyes out with how harshly i wiped my tears away. 

“i’m listening, baby,” he whispered. “i promise.” 

i took a deep breath, picking my fingertips as my entire body trembled. here we go. 

ruining my life in 3, 2… 

“i’m tired of being… of being a-a girl,” i mumbled, my voice faltering. yep. it was over. gone. finished. 

i first noticed his eyebrows furrow deeper than i’d ever seen them. he cocked his head slightly. he did that whenever he was confused. 

“what are you talking about?” he asked cautiously, meeting my eyes. concern still lingered in his gaze. i still felt the love there, but i hadn’t said entirely what i needed to say. 

“i don’t wanna be a girl anymore,” i sniffled, looking down as i spoke. “i don’t think i’ve ever wanted to be a girl.” 

silence filled the space between us as matt seemed to be deep in thought. “so…” he pondered out loud, not entirely sure what he was going to say, just as i was. 

“i’m… i’m trans. transgender. i-i think,” i said, swallowing harshly. my eyes burned from drying tears. my body just shook, saving the rest of the tears for later. 

i noticed matt’s expression relax for the most part, one small wrinkle still sitting between his subtly furrowed brows. he always sort of had a resting angry face, but now he looked frustrated for real. he was staring into space, just sitting there, thinking.

i looked away from him, pulling away slightly so that i wasn’t sitting on top of him anymore. i felt cold; i’d ripped myself away from his warmth before i gave myself the chance to cherish it. 

there it was before me. my life, broken and shattered into millions of pieces. 

“can… can i ask you-“ he started. 

“yeah,” i exhaled. i didn’t realize that i’d been holding my breath. 

“how, um, how do you know that?” matt asked softly. “i just mean-“ 

“it’s fine,” i swallowed. “i-i just… i don’t- i don’t know how to explain it. i-it’s… you know how i like wearing baggy clothes and overall just, y’know, men’s clothes?” 

matt nodded, staying quiet. he had his listening face on. jaw clenched shut, chewing on the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. 

“it’s like, i don’t… i don’t wanna be a girl dressing like a man. i wanna be a man dressing like a man. even as a kid i wanted to wear boy’s clothes,” i explained. my voice cracked towards the end of my sentence, tears filling my eyes once again. 

i knew matt had little, if not zero experience with this, and to be honest, i barely did myself. and based on some of the stuff i’d seen and heard from his work, it didn’t seem like he ever wanted to have experience to begin with. 

“so… would you… change your name and stuff?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. 

“mhm,” i hummed, sniffling. i wiped my eyes, cringing at the stinging sensation. 

“what name are-… w-what name would you prefer?” he asked, his voice softer than i’d ever heard it. 

did he really want to know? part of me didn’t want to tell him. part of me felt scared to death that he would tell his friends and they would mock me. 

“i, um… i like y/n,” i mumbled. i felt a small smile trying to creep up my face. it felt good to finally say that out loud. “feels good. i’ve always liked that name.” 

“y/n?” he repeated. 

i nodded, swallowing. i finally worked up the courage to look at him again. i felt better, but i still felt dread over what he was going to say next. 

“come here, y/n,” he said, beckoning me over with his index finger. good god. it felt unbelievably good to hear him call me that, regardless of whether what was to follow. 

i climbed back over to him, melting in his arms. matt ran his fingers through my hair. i could feel his heartbeat, racing nearly as fast as mine. he still felt just as warm as he did a few minutes ago. 

i let one hand caress his back while my other hand played with one of his curls on the back of his head. he let out a heavy exhale, his body relaxing under me. 

“i love you so much,” he said quietly in my ear. “you know that.” 

i nodded, pulling him closer. i said “i love you too,” but it was practically silent and only came out as a breath.

“i wish i knew more about this,” he said, his own voice starting to waver slightly. he placed a small kiss on my ear, moving my hair out of the way. 

“it’s okay,” i choked. i closed my eyes and pressed my face against his hair, letting his soft curls brush against my skin. “i understand if you… if you don’t wanna have to- …y’know.” 

“have to what?” he pressed. “call you my boyfriend?” 

i nodded. matt looked at me, wiping my tears away again. i could see his own eyes watering slightly, even through his glasses. my lip quivered as i remembered why i was so scared in the first place. 

 “i was so scared,” i laughed slightly, gulping. 

matt held both of my hands with one of his, the other reaching up to caress my jaw as he slowly leaned in and placed a soft, passionate kiss on my lips. 

even after letting go, his face lingered close to mine. we remained still, breathing each other in for a moment. his hand slipped away from my face, lowering to meet the rest of the bundle of hands that sat in my lap. 

“i didn’t want to lose you,” i whispered, barely audible. “i didn’t want to tell you ‘cause i was so scared that you would leave a-and-“ 

“i still love you,” he said. he gave me a small smile, showing off his dimples. “i don’t want to leave you. ever. not in a million years. you’re the brightest part of my entire fucking life.” 

i started crying again, hiding my face from him. i really thought he was going to be upset. i was so sure he would push me away. i guess i just didn’t read him correctly. 

“and who the fuck cares if i’m gay?” he laughed, pulling my hands away from my face. “everyone pretty much already believes that i am.” 

“but are you?” i asked, still sobbing. “there’s a difference between saying you’re gay and actually being gay.” 

“yeah, i mean-“ 

“it’s not a joke,” i swallowed. “are you attracted to men?” 

matt’s face dropped slightly. i didn’t mean to, but i had snapped at him a bit. my arms and hands were still shaking. i felt bad for interrogating him like this, but i would have preferred to get my heart broken now than later on, after thinking that i might have been spared of it. 

“i…” matt choked slightly. he cleared his throat. i saw tears welling in his eyes again. “i don’t know.” 

i sighed, looking away. i put my face in my hands again, taking a deep, shaky breath to keep more tears at bay. 

“but that doesn’t mean i can’t try new things, right?” he said softly, running a hand through my hair. i lifted my head up, tucking some stray strands of hair behind my ears. 

“i guess,” i squeaked, swallowing harshly. i looked at him, unintentionally giving him somewhat of a puppy-eyed look. i reached towards his face, carefully removing his glasses so that i could wipe a tear away from his cheek. matt turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand, before grabbing it and pressing it against his face. 

“i’m not going anywhere,” he mumbled, his words muffled by my skin against his mouth. smooch. “whether i’m gay or not, you can’t get rid of me.” 

i smiled slightly, looking down as i felt heat rise in my cheeks. “i don’t think it works like that,” i said. “but okay.”

matt smiled and let my hand rest on his cheek. i swallowed, scooting a little bit closer so i could lean forward and softly kiss him. 

the kiss lasted a few seconds, breaking every so often to we could just breath each other in and look into each other’s eyes. i still held his glasses in my hand, resting in my lap as my arms and legs stopped shaking so much. 

matt’s fingertips grazed my jaw. “i love you so much, y/n,” he said softly into my lips. i smiled at the sound of my name in his voice, speaking so softly yet passionately. 

“i love you more,” i said, trying not to grin from ear to ear. 

“is there anything else you wanna tell me?” he asked, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “anything else on your mind?” 

i shook my head, pecking his lips. i curled up in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“okay,” he hummed. matt pushed my hair away from my face. 

“can i tell you who i wanna look like?” i asked, grazing my fingertip back and forth on his neck. 

“who?” he asked, putting his glasses back on. 

“george michael,” i mumbled, grinning slightly. 

matt giggled. “he is a beautiful man.” 

i laughed, shoving him playfully. matt just grinned, caressing my chin and pulling me in for another, much deeper kiss. 

i exhaled, relaxing my body for the first time in weeks as he kissed me over and over. it was dizzying, but i loved it. all the fear i held inside for so long about never being able to feel his lips on mine or his body pressed up against me ever again was behind me. that was the best thing i could have asked for. 

i let him slip his tongue between my lips, taking his time exploring the inside of my mouth and feeling my own tongue against his. i heard him him slightly into the kiss, leaning deeper into it. 

suddenly, he pulled away, causing a string of saliva between our lips to break. 

“what do you say we wear that name in?” he purred, biting his lip and stroking my jaw. there it was, that look of love. the one i was so sure i would never see again.

i rolled my eyes, feeling myself blush heavily. i made an “ugh” sound and pushed his chest away. 

“i’m serious,” he grinned. “i told you i would try new things.” 

“i know, i know,” i said, standing up. it had been quite a few days since we last… had fun. i’d been so distant and down in the dumps that i never really felt like it and i guess he could kind of tell that was the case. “c’mon.” 

i could have sworn i heard him giggle in excitement as he too stood up from the couch and followed me towards our bedroom, barely able to keep his hands to himself during our short walk down the hallway. 

[cosmiccrushes]

Not Part Of The Crew

Law x OC || 2.9k word chapter; 18k total

notes: i'm glad i finally allowed myself to get into writing because it's been such a gift to have a creative outlet right now. without worrying about how good or not good of a writer i am (mostly- easier said than done sometimes). hope everyone has been able to be with their community, to find the love, safety and gentleness you so so deserve

CW: physical violence, blood, vomit

Read the rest here!

CH 8

After the jostling trip aboard, Rue would like nothing more than to pour herself out of this apple crate and stretch out her sore, cramped limbs. Instead she rolls an apple in her palm, listening to the unending parade of voices and footsteps past her hiding place, grating against her nerves like nails scratched down a chalkboard. Hours, it's been hours and still she hasn't been left alone long enough to crawl out of this crate. She knows she's been loaded on a ship. Undoubtedly has the bruises to match the banging route from the dock to the inside of whatever cargo bay she’s in. 

She munches on an apple, hoping the crunch and tart juices will distract her from her screaming muscles. The first pings of panic started long ago, and with every voice that drags itself closer to her, it pulses more urgently. At least these apples will provide even better ammo than mangoes when she is inevitably discovered. Because she’s pretty sure she will be discovered. That, despite her skill at sneaking into cargo, her luck at sneaking out is majorly lacking, perhaps non-existent. At least the Heart Pirates had the decency to discover her quicker than this. 

As if summoned by her thoughts, footsteps pound closer. Then a voice right beside her. “These were the apples, yeah?” A gruff, affirmative grunt in response. The sound of something wedging under the lid of her crate. Rue drops the apple pressed to her lips and clenches two unbitten ones in her fists. Call it survivor’s intuition, but Rue knows these people will not be as accommodating as the Heart Pirates. Can feel it in the ache of her bones from how they tossed their cargo around. People who had no time, no patience, no gentleness to tend their own sustenance were probably not people who would have time, patience or gentleness for a stowaway. Rue knew all too well that to some, apples and people were no different. Both served functions and it didn’t matter much if either got a little bruised. Rue can’t seem to shake the dark beast that settled around her in that alleyway earlier. It’s talons digging in and threatening to draw hopelessness like blood from her veins.

Fingertips slip under the wooden lid, prying away her false sense of safety. Rue doesn’t wait to confirm what kind of people they are. She springs up as fast as she can, sending the top of the crate flying. The person on the other side leaps back with a startled yelp of surprise. Rue uses the distraction to fling an apple at their face. From the snarl of pain she knows it connects, but she’s busy hauling herself over the side of the box to land in an aching heap between the cargo and one of the ship’s walls. Ignoring the stab of pain in her knee, she yanks herself up using the crate’s edge for balance. The rough rim bites splinters sharply into her fingers. She arms herself with more apples, scooping them out of the crate as fast as her body will allow. Hurling them at every target her chaotic movements allow her to clock.

At least five individuals shout exclamations and commands at each other, at her. There’s a buzzing in her ears that renders their words unintelligible. An approaching swarm, ready to descend upon her the second she runs out of apples. Her arm cocks back to launch another fruit as the first sting lands. Stars burst behind her eyes and her vision swims as she slumps forward against the crate, clinging desperately to hold herself upright. She didn’t notice the form creeping around in the small gap behind her, but she’s sure as hell aware of them now. Rue’s fingers scrabble for another apple, but it’s no use. A body crushes against her, forcing her ribs viciously against the wooden side of the crate. A hand fists into the back of her jacket, yanking her back against them, and a sword presses to her throat. Rue fights back the urge to vomit as the nausea from the blow she just took to her head crashes over her. With a blade pressed against her neck, she knows any movement now could easily be her last. The Heart Pirates didn’t draw their blades on her, she thinks dimly and absurdly.

“What the hell is this?” Someone demands, fingers pressed against a split lip, which Rue smirks upon with satisfaction. 

“Who are you?” The man gripping her questions. 

“Apple delivery,” Rue replies innocently. 

The sword at her neck presses harder, drawing a thin trickle of blood in warning. “Who are you?” He repeats. 

Rue grinds her teeth together. She didn’t cooperate when it was Trafalgar Law asking questions, she isn’t going to cooperate now. 

The man with the split lip is watching her intently. His eyes widen and Rue’s stomach drops. “Wait a second!” He says. “I know you! You’re wanted by the Fang Pirates.” A folded paper is pulled from a pocket and Rue’s wanted poster is passed amongst the group. A ripple of nods from the other’s as recognition sweeps through them. 

Fuck, Rue thinks. That blasted bounty. 

A fist in her hair yanks her head back so the man holding her can study her features. Rue’s eyes water from the brutal strain on her roots. “I’ll be damned. We just saw your picture up at Bell Island with the promise of a reward.” He sneers at her. “Let’s get her to the captain.” With that he shoves her roughly at a pair of people to his left and barks, “Bind her hands.” 

***

As Rue is led through the ship, she surreptitiously flexes her wrists in their bindings. But the rope rubs abrasively into her skin, making it clear there’s no leeway to wiggle her way out. At least they bound her arms in front of her, not behind. At this point, Rue will take whatever silver lining she can find. This is bad. Rue knows this is bad. Yet her mind doesn’t spin with escape plans. No, instead, it conjures up an image of how Trafalgar Law would look at her if he could see her now. His eyebrow cocked with a distinctly dry I-could-of-told-you-so tilt. Not that she’s ever going to see Law again to confirm his reaction. That would require her to remain alive and far away from Malax Fangle- all conditions that are becoming statistically more unlikely as she is marched towards the ship’s captain.

As she crests the steps onto the ship’s deck, the warm rays of afternoon sun do nothing to combat the chill that whips through her when she sees the Jolly Roger flying overhead. She doesn’t recognize the banner, not that it matters. There’s no mistaking what it means. 

Pirates, fucking pirates. Rue casts her eyes skyward in exasperation with herself, the universe. Unfortunately, her track record for picking cargo to hide in that doesn’t get picked up by pirates is zero for two. Are there even merchants in these waters? She thinks angrily, glaring at the flag flying overhead. If these had been merchants or sailors, maybe she could’ve outwitted them, bought herself enough time to escape. They likely wouldn’t be accustomed to hauling prisoners, might make mistakes she could capitalize on. But pirates? Pirates dealt in violence. Their currency was cunning and cruelty. Any craftiness she had to spend here, probably wouldn’t buy her much. Especially not with the promise of a reward and currying favor with the feared Fang Pirates. 

Rue hadn’t been serious in her threats to sink Law’s ship or throw herself overboard, but suddenly it wasn’t sounding like such a bad plan. Maybe she’d make friends with a kindly shark who would be delighted to transport her to safety. That seemed far more likely than Rue convincing a crew of pirates to let her go rather than collecting on the promise of gold. Trafalgar Law let you go, she reminds herself. Strange things do happen. Maybe this pirate captain would surprise her by carrying a massive vendetta against Malax Fangle. And maybe Trafalgar Law will magically spring out of the sails and save your sorry ass.  

Rue is shoved roughly to her knees at the captain’s feet. Her ribs groan in protest and she bites down on a whimper.  

“What’s this?” The captain asks tersely. A tall, slight man with a short brown beard. 

“Found her hiding in the cargo, sir. She attacked us. She’s got a reward out for her capture and return to the Fang Pirates, Captain.” 

The captain stares down at her with interest and a malicious twist of his lips. “You don’t say?” One of his crew hands him her bounty poster. “Well, well. Best not to keep a man like Malax Fangle waiting. Set a course to Ashita Island and-” He glances back down at Rue. “Lock her up in the brig. No food, no water.” Rue grits her teeth. “Wouldn’t want her getting it in her head that she’s a guest here.” Rue hates the way they’re discussing her fate like she’s not even there. Starving and dehydrating her, a nasty tactic to ensure she has no energy to fight back. 

Rough hands grip under her biceps, hauling her back to her feet. Rue feels her window of opportunity to escape closing over her as sure as if she had thrown herself overboard to sink beneath ocean waves. Fear flooding her mouth and nose, choking the breath out of her lungs. She can’t be taken back to Malax. He will kill her. Or worse. Fangle doesn’t let people who challenged him live. And he doesn’t let them die swiftly. The one thing that bounty poster dangling from the captain’s hand tells her is that Malax wants her back alive. No pirate is going to risk losing their reward- or pissing off Fangle- by killing her. Which means Rue is free to risk her life, her own damn self. 

Rue waits until they’re halfway back across the deck before she throws her body to the left. Using her momentum and weight to crash against the pirate still gripping her arm, sending them both careening to the ground. Rue blocks out the howl of pain from her shoulder, rolling into a low crouch. She quickly scans her surroundings, aware she is probably making terrible decisions currently. Aware she’s concussed and that has to be a mark against her governing faculties. Rue isn’t a fighter. She can be scrappy, sure, but there’s no way she’s successfully taking on a ship full of pirates. She’s not a bad swimmer, but she has no idea how far she is from any land nor can she swim with her hands tied up.

As surprised shouts rise around her and the pointy ends of swords thrust her direction, Rue makes a choice. She releases a guttural, rageful growl that bares her teeth and charges the next pirate closest to her. Her sudden aggression seems to surprise the man and he draws his sword away so she doesn’t impale herself. Finally, something works out in Rue’s favor. Using the shoulder that hasn’t recently slammed into a hard surface, Rue smashes into the pirate. Throwing her elbow as hard as she can into his stomach, the rope rubbing burns into her wrists.  

He grunts and his grip loosens on his sword as he doubles over. Rue latches onto the hilt, wrenching it from the winded pirate’s hand. One of her nails tears, breaking too far down. She lurches towards the side of the ship, plunging the sword as hard as she can into the deck. Mercifully, it wedges into the boards. Rue drags the rope bindings against the blade, nicking the tender flesh of her forearm in her wild haste. As the rope drops to the ground, Rue narrowly dodges away from a fist sweeping in her direction. She scrambles towards the ship’s railing. No longer caught off guard by her assault, the pirates descend, closing in an organized semi-circle around her. 

Rue heaves herself up, swinging a leg over the railing. The shark it is, she thinks morbidly through the feverish haze in her brain. She’s either about to make the single stupidest decision of her life- which is probably going to be cut incredibly short- or she’s done the only thing to give herself a chance at survival. She’ll never get the opportunity to learn whether it would’ve been a sympathetic sea creature or a predictable drowning, though, because an iron bar of an arm wraps around her waist. 

Momentarily, Rue is airborne, then she’s flung to the deck, her head smacking hard enough against the planks that her vision goes fully dark. Her teeth clack together and she tastes blood in her mouth. She frantically blinks back the black shadows crowding her sight. She makes a fraught attempt to drag herself back towards the ship’s side, but a boot savagely stomps down on her hand. She curls into herself as another boot barrels into her stomach. This time she does cry out in agony. It’s the last sound she hears before the silence of unconsciousness washes over her. 

***  

Rue doesn’t know how long she’s out. When she wakes up, her wrists are bound in iron shackles and a chain around her ankle tethers her to the floor of a small cell. Every nerve in her body pulsates in a way that has Rue wondering how long the kicks kept landing after she passed out. Breathing hurts, her head throbs. She knows she must have a concussion and broken ribs. 

Rue refuses to blame herself for her half-baked escape plan. What else could she do but try? When she ran from the Fang Pirates, she knew she’d have to keep running. That the possibility of being dragged back to Ashita Island would chase her like shadows after a setting sun. If she was to be pulled into the dark, she’d sink her nails in deep and leave a trail of gouges in her wake. The only evidence that she ever existed at all. There certainly weren’t going to be people mourning her. Carlo was the only person who cared what happened to her and she’d already failed to keep him safe. After he was gone, Rue was left alone to pick up the pieces. Only there weren’t any pieces to pick up. She’d never made an effort to be closer to the people of Ashita Island. She kept people at arm’s length and called it self-protection.

Then, Carlo stopped breathing. His blood soaking into her shoes, sinking into the soles of her feet, leaving behind an uncleanable film of failure separating her from the feeling of ever being grounded again. Leaving her with a lonely answer to her foolish question- why would she expect the villagers of Ashita Island to think of her as anything other than another pawn in Malax Fangle’s schemes? She wasn’t a part of the town, not in any way that mattered. She’d designed her life that way. To get what she needed to survive, never an ounce more and never through any means other than her own. 

Guilt throbbed through Rue like a bruise, settling in the cracks on her ribs and the hollows of her lungs where a deep breath couldn't reach. For a year she’d appeased Fangle to keep people safe. But all she’d bought was a few more grains of sand in a steadily draining hourglass. When she realized this, rather than staying and actually trying to do something meaningful, Rue had chosen to run. She abandoned Ashita Island. Told herself she couldn’t really abandon something that was never hers to begin with. Told herself she’d find a way to make Malax Fangle pay. 

But what might it have been like, if she'd stayed? If she made an effort to know the people on the island and help them survive, help them fight back against the Fang Pirates’ foothold? What would it have been like if she let them know her? If she’d stopped thinking that she could- or should- do it all herself?

Rue tries to pull herself up into a slump against the ship wall, but her body simply won’t acquiesce. The attempt stirs up the nausea she felt earlier and she just barely props herself on an elbow to vomit to the side of where she lays. Each heave drives spikes of agonizing pain through her. When the contents of her stomach finally run out, she collapses back to the floor, tears streaming down her face. A blurry murk creeps in at the edges of her eyesight. Rue welcomes it, lets it lap over her, lull her into a mournful melody of self-pity and shame.

No, people didn’t know her. She didn’t let people know her. Maybe this was her karma. To be sitting in this cell, thinking about another offer of help she refused, another opportunity to be known she didn’t take. And if some of her last thoughts in this life were woeful wonderings about what might have been if she’d let Trafalgar Law know her? If she’d accepted that tentative help he’d extended to her? Well, it would be a misery she deserves. Made all the more maliciously ironic by the knowledge that Trafalgar law was exactly the kind of person she needed right now- a doctor. 

[pradaxstyles]

congratulations! you got your own lemon drop nonnie!!! reader (or OC) is traveling with/is friends with/is in a relationship with Ellie, and after a particularly rough night, reader basically asks ellie about her nightmares and says "You mumble in your sleep." idk how you would want to write this but i'd like to see it!! (i might send an idea for joel your way) -🍋

Oh my gosh hi my little lemon drop nonnie 😭 I've never had an emoji anon I'm so excited. Im sososo glad you requested something! Seeing this made my entire day!! It's been a few years since I've written anything, so I really hope you enjoy it!

As always, please come chat or leave some feedback!! I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts!! 💐🫶🏻✨

No Words Left Unsaid

Pairing --> Ellie Williams x Fem reader

Warnings --> Anxiety symptoms, Joel is dead (I'm sorry 😭) no explicit details of death, just mentioned. Ellie is a fragile mess. How I imagine Ellie to be if she had someone to go to (besides Dina) ab what happened to Joel. Briefly proofread, if I missed anything, please let me know!

Word count --> 1.6k

Alexa's notes✨ --> I hope this was okay!! I had an idea and quite literally ran with it. I'm always open for constructive criticism (please be nice about it)!! Love yall xoxo

You knew Ellie well enough that when she put her mind to something, it was going to get done. Regardless if she got herself killed while doing it, it would be the last thing she did.

What you didn't know, is where you stood with the short haired girl. Stolen glances, hands brushing against each other, soft smiles from across the room, the force that was Ellie made your cheeks burn like nothing else.

A heavy, repeated pounding came from your door late one night. Jolting awake, you rubbed the grogginess from your eyes and glanced at the clock, 3:47am. A chill ran down your spine, the winter air nipping at your skin.

The pounding came again, this time a little more urgent. Reaching for a blanket from the couch, you headed to the door.

Curiosity pricked at your fingertips, pulling the handle and revealing a crack of the person who woke you up.

Eyes widening, you whispered, "Ellie?"

You opened the door wider to get a better look at her. She was pacing, the prints of her boots having muddled together in the once pristine snow. Her hair wasn't in its usual bun, but rather messily laid around her head. You could tell she had been running her fingers through it as one hand remained nestled in her hair, pulling at the roots. She was mumbling things under her breath that you couldn't quite catch.

Releasing the handle, you walked down the small steps of your porch to where Ellie was still pacing. Laying a soft hand on her sweater clad shoulder, you said her name again.

She jumped and pulled herself out of your grasp. Finally able to get a good look at her face, you frowned.

Her eyes were puffy and red, cheeks a deep scarlet that concealed her freckles, her lips dry and cracked from picking at the skin there. A haunted look had made a home on her once cheeky demeanor.

She opened her mouth, willing words to form, but nothing came.

Taking a small step forward, you reached a hand out for her. "Ellie?" you questioned again, "What's going on? Are you okay?"

She met your hand and grasped it tightly. Her clammy hands a deep contrast from the cold air that surrounded the both of you. Ellie's eyes glossy eyes met yours and she squeezed your hand again. Ragged breaths clawed themselves from her lungs, her other hand landing on her chest.

Panic crept its way through your veins at the sight of the girl in front of you. Reaching for her other hand, you led her inside.

"Els, I need you to sit down okay? I'm gonna get you some water."

Ellie gave a weak nod before sitting on the edge of the couch. She took a deep inhale, the soft scents of your lavender and chamomile lotion bringing her a sense of comfort. You wrapped the blankets tightly around her shoulders before heading into the small kitchen. Faint sounds of hiccuped breaths and sniffling could be heard over the trickling of the water. A small sigh left your lips as you turned the water off, trying to compose yourself.

She had moved so her back was pressed into the couch and the blanket a cocoon around her body. Wanting to give Ellie some space, you sat on the opposite side.

Extending the glass towards her, "Here El, drink some of this, small sips. It'll make you feel better," you gently coaxed.

She accepted the water gingerly and took a sip before setting it on the small table in front of her.

"What happened, Ellie? Talk to me," soft words fell from your lips. A look of concern still etched into your features. You debated moving any closer before Ellie scooted herself so she was facing you.

Ellie took a shaky breath, "Joel-" and squeezed her eyes shut.

Your blood ran cold at the mention of his name. Joel had been a blessing to you and Jackson, someone everyone could count on. As much as you wanted to know what happened, you could tell Ellie was in no shape to discuss the events that occurred. You had an inkling, but didn't want to push it.

Tentatively, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and laid your palm against her cheek. She leaned into your touch before opening her eyes again. "We don't have to talk about it tonight if you don't want to, angel. We can just go to sleep and deal with it in the morning," you offered.

A look of absolute defeat painted her features and it killed you inside. You could see her weigh the options before softly nodding her head. Ellie felt the exhaustion of the day settling heavy in her bones.

You stood and collected Ellie into your arms, holding her there for a moment. A shuddered breath hit your shoulder before you felt Ellie wrap her arms around your waist and hold you tightly. You took a few deep breaths and rubbed small circles into her back.

She pulled back slightly and gave a weak smile. Smiling back, you offered, "Let me get you some warm clothes for tonight, hm? And then we'll go to bed."

You took Ellie's hand and led her to the bathroom and left her to change. The door clicked shut behind her and you let a deep breath fall from your lips.

Sliding back under the warm blankets, you sat against the headboard and closed your eyes, waiting for Ellie. The sound of the door opening and Ellie's soft footsteps had you perking up.

"It'll be okay, Els. We'll take care of it, I promise." You held your arms open for her and she all but collapsed into your warm embrace. Laying her head against your chest, she entangled her legs with yours as you pulled the blanket up to cover her back.

Pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, you mumbled "I'm here, bug and I'm not going anywhere."

Ellie gave a small nod, "Thank you."

You hummed in response and held her tightly against your body as if to shield her from every damn thing that had hurt her.

The sun's warm light began peaking in way faster than you wanted.

Ellie was fast asleep, cuddled into your chest. You hadn't moved in fear of waking the girl up, so you stayed in that same position all night. Rubbing random patterns onto her back, brushing your fingers through her hair, and consoling her when she seemed to be having a nightmare.

She's mumbled incoherent sentences since she fell asleep. You weren't sure if you should've woken her up, but as soon as you whispered "You're okay," "You're safe," she stopped.

You wished you could take the pain away. Ellie hadn't told you everything since she and Joel had arrived in Jackson, but she told you enough. They'd been through hell together, and you couldn't imagine what plagued her while she slept.

Ellie began to stir slightly, a groan falling from her lips. She tensed, not remembering where she was. "Wha-"

"You're okay Els, you're with me," you reassured her. Glancing down at her, a confused look melded on her features. "Do you remember coming over here last night?" The question felt sour on your tongue, remembering the broken state Ellie was in mere hours before.

She nodded slowly and began to pull from your arms. "I'm so sorry for showing up like that, I didn't know what else to do," she started. "I got back and Tommy told me to go home but I just couldn't, how could I just-"

You could tell she was getting upset all over again. Her breathing was starting to get erratic and in an effort to calm her racing thoughts, you placed a hand on her cheek.

"Els, it's okay. You're okay, you know you can come over anytime you need to. I'm always here for you," you reassured her. Ellie's eyes frantically searched your face for any doubt, but she found none.

She nodded slightly and laid down next to your sitting frame, eyes glued to the ceiling. Glancing up to see what she was looking at, "You mumble in your sleep," you acknowledged hesitantly.

Ellie winced ever so slightly and looked over at you. Tearing your gaze from the pale ceiling, you met her eyes. "What did I say?"

"It wasn't full sentences or anything, just some mumbled words and sounds," you started. "I'm not upset or anything, I just didn't know if yo-"

"I have nightmares," Ellie whispered softly, keeping her eyes on you, "Sometimes they change, and sometimes it's the same thing every fucking night."

You moved to lay down next to Ellie, willing her to continue. She took your hand and brought it to lay against her chest. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Most of the time it involves Joel and what we went through a few years ago. There was a few times we both should have died, and we didn't."

Reaching with your intertwined fingers, you thumbed a small tear from her cheek, and pushed some loose hairs back. Ellie watched your roaming eyes and how they looked so full of love. Everything she noticed was calculated yet soft, deliberate showings of affection. Your eyes fell back to hers and Ellie's cheeks warmed slightly. You nodded slightly, urging her to continue if she wished.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm forever thankful we didn't die during those times, but now all I see is him dead. I see it when I'm awake, I see it when I'm asleep. I can't get away from it. I can't lose another person again, I can't lose you. I'm not ready to lose you yet."

Ellie had never laid her cards out like this before, let alone told anyone what plagued her at night. You held her gaze the entire time, hanging on to every word she said. Ellie was so thankful for you in that moment. She was always thankful for you, but in this moment, maybe just a little more.

"You're not going to lose me, Els. It's us against the goddamn world. That I promise you."

[quihi]

Okay, overall thoughts on Fablehaven and Dragonwatch. I hope to write in more detail later - I have a first draft of a post about my take on some of the religious themes and allegory in Dragonwatch - but I gotta start somewhere (that requires less citations).

I saw Carnival Quest on the library shelf last November, read that, and had so much fun I decided to go for more Brandon Mull and reread Fablehaven. (I don't read a lot of kids books, as an adult, but I hadn't felt like reading in awhile and this made reading fun.) The first book was rough, honestly—it was his first published book and it shows. The prose felt clunky and awkward, but I got used to it and it improved. Seth drove me insane—so much of the plot was driven by "Seth screws up." But it was a quick and easy and fun read, and the world and concept were a delight!

Books 2–4 were great. I only read the books once or twice over ten years ago, so all I remembered was the general concept, a little about Kendra and Seth, and a vague idea of the final battle. I got to experience all the twists again! It was very fun to see the people who populate this increasingly large world, and the people around the edges like that rich couple in Georgia who have fairies but have never seen a preserve. Like, how did they get involved, how much do they know? It's clear that Kendra and Seth are way more deeply involved than someone who just discovered the preserves normally would be. I have a lot of thoughts about their parents and how Fablehaven fits in with their lives, and I think I think about that a lot more as an adult—it doesn't bother me but I find it more sad now.

Keys to the Demon Prison was big, and wow did we see the world. It added a lot of stuff that hadn't felt foreshadowed at all—the Eternals, Vasilis, Bracken—so it felt a little disconnected and like there were some deus ex machina. I liked the ending, though, and how everything wrapped up with swapping the demon prison and the fairy realm.

So, fun series! They definitely felt like kids books, but I would still recommend them to kids and adults who want to read a fun, magical adventure.

After this, life got busy, and I needed a break, and time to let the books sink in and read a few other books, so I didn't start Dragonwatch until January. I raced through the first three books, then took about a week off before I could get myself past the beginning of Champion of the Titan Games, then finished the series in under a week. They got so frustrating and dark that I needed that break, but I'm glad I didn't force myself to keep reading when I was worn out.

Okay, look, I know this seems to be an unpopular opinion, but I enjoyed them. I don't know if it helped because I read them all in under a month and didn't think too hard or reread them in between, and I hadn't been eagerly awaiting them—I don't think much about Mull or keep up with his new books. I didn't notice a lot of the continuity errors that I guess were there, though I did notice the big thematic change from darkness being neutral to being more evil (though I have some thoughts on that, too). There were definitely some weird choices. The structure of book five felt very similar to Fablehaven's book five.

I liked Knox and Tess. I see reasons they would be introduced, and while they could have done more (Tess: spends entire series as the innocent girl, gets teleported around a couple times but never to anywhere from which she can get home), I couldn't help liking them. They're decent foils for Kendra and Seth, at least. I think I'd have liked more of them, over cutting them. I badly wanted Knox and Seth to sit down for a good conversation about mistakes and forgiveness.

One of the story choices that baffled or irritated me most was not putting Marat or Agad back in charge of Wyrmroost, after Celebrant lost his status. I guess the best argument is there wasn't time between them returning from Stormguard Castle and Seth's disappearance, and the explicit consent of both Kendra and Seth was needed, but like, that should have been the first thing they did. I guess no one thought of it. And I suppose there was still the issue of no easy way to leave.

There was a lot of religion, which I began to notice in Master of the Phantom Isle, and was surprisingly blatant in Return of the Dragon Slayers. Religious themes in books don't bother me, though I know that's a YMMV topic and I understand why some people don't like it. (Thank you to the Fablehaven fandom for, as far as I can tell, not getting into absolute hatred of Christianity.) But, well, they were still overall the fun adventures that I was reading for, even as they got more sad and the character arcs got deeper. I'm glad I finished and read through the whole series.

I was left with a lot to think about. I have ideas for fanfiction. Mostly canon compliant, set after Dragonwatch, with some earlier, and also one romance AU that I'm worried about people's reactions to the ship. I'm buying a lot of the books to reference more easily, since I like referencing books when I write and I'm no longer twelve years old with the time and urge to flip through and reread books a dozen times until I know every plot point by heart by the time I return them to the library, but I do have more disposable income.

So, uh, I'm not really one to rate books, but I'd still call these solid and fun overall, though they have their flaws. I far prefer enjoying books to criticizing them, so I'd rather like them and try to find ideas and headcanons that improve them, rather than linger on the elements I dislike. I want to be positive!

[twistedisciple]

As they are considering what items to choose from the selection provided to victors, Ninian looks to the side to see Griss holding up seashells that appear to be intended for use as chest armor. Somehow it doesn't surprise her that he would cover as little of his chest as possible, though it is fascinating that such an item exists at all; human bodies are so very fragile, and still they are willing to wear such little protection (or none at all, but Sir Griss’ liking of pain is unconventional). While she considered the shells herself earlier, they will surely serve him better: little protection is better than none, and she can rely on her true form’s scales besides.

“A stylish choice, Sir Griss,” she comments quietly, with a small smile. “They suit you, and I'm glad to know you'll have some form of protection.”

“You got a weird sense of style,” Griss quips. He’d been trying to figure out what exactly he was holding for the past few minutes, twine strung between his hands, concentration fixed on the pair of palm-sized scallop shells that hung from it. He glances sidelong at the dragon, then back at the ornament. That’s what it had to be: an ornament. Or— he drops one side of it and swings the other around his finger. A weapon? Without much weight on it, it flutters and flaps— maybe a distraction?

Stylish… Protection…

The serrated edge of one of the shells nicks his wrist and an epiphany lights up his eyes.

“Right.” He catches the twine between both hands again, and then starts to tie it to the leather straps that run beneath both of his arms. “I dunno about protection…” He didn’t need that anyway. These are something better. He slaps the shells against his chest when he’s done, and they bite flesh just like cilices. Ninian’s concern gets another round of his rough laughter.

“But they’re gonna hurt so good!”

Even if he’d have the outline of two palm-sized shells imprinted on his chest for days to come.

[paranoidginger]

Lab-rat part 10

Tw: N/A

Bait sat in the common room, a small smile on his face as he listened to one of the Scout's many stories, a blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders.

"So I'm out with my brothas, right? All reallllll rough and tumble types ah' guys, I'm only fifteen, and I see this person who I think is a cute chick, I'm only seeing her back, and she's got this super nice long hair. My older brotha, he notices me eye'n this broad, and he's all 'Shoot ya shot, man' so I look at him, all nervous n' crap, and go walk over to her. This. Now this is where it starts to get good, right? Because I go over and try to talk to her, and she turns around and turns out she was a whole man. He's got this super thick moustache, and I immediately recognize him. Dude's wearin' a wig, and he looks at my brotha and they both start losing their damn minds, 'cause the guy was my oldest brotha's best friend! Then the pieces fall together, 'cause my brother would never be that encouraging to me when it comes to a cute chick, he'd always, and I mean always, be the one to start hittin' on em, and then I think, and I realize that it's April freakin' first. They went through this whole plan, just to make me have a crush on my brotha's best friend. It didn't work though, I mean, I already decided to like girls, and I couldn't just go back 'n betray all the hot babes that wouldn't ever have a chance with me if I liked fellas, you know?"

Most of what the man said didn't make much sense to Bait, but Scout sounded so happy whenever he told his stories... It felt nice to be the one he could share whatever he liked with, just because he would listen...

The pair were interrupted as the Medic approached them, his boots clicking softly on the hardwood floors of the base.

"Sorry to intrude, but zhe shipment came in for our friend! Bait, if you are ready, we can get started on getting you put back together." The Medic smiled slightly, although it wavered slightly as he spoke the Clone's name. It felt wrong, filthy, even... But it was what the other team had called him, and what he continued to answer to while he tried to think of a name for himself.

"I'm ready..." He spoke quietly, getting to his feet and extending a hand so that he could be guided to the infirmary.

"He's... He's gonna be okay, right doc?" The Scout asked cautiously "I know you've got a knack for that kinda stuff but... I don't know, I'm- I'm just nervous. After what happened the other day when he wasn't wakin' up..."

"You know Zhat he is in safe hands, I von't let anyzhing go wrong, Junge." Gently, the medic took the clone's hand, beginning to lead him down the hall to where the procedures would be done.

Hours passed in an unconscious state, Bait's body laying on the Medic's operating table as he diligently worked, removing the horrid stuffing within the clone's body and replacing it with what belonged, saving his eyes for last.

The most delicate of procedures as nerves were mended together, and fine muscles reattached until finally, he could look at the clone's face and see that it was whole again. All of him would be whole again, for the first time in who knows how long.

Eventually, the young man slowly came to, a strange pressure in his face that he wasn't yet used to... And yet he still could not see. It wasn't the same as it had been before, though, his vision filled with simple darkness, as opposed to the void beyond it... But why was it still so dark? Slowly, he sat up in his little recovery bed, carefully touching his face, finding himself bandaged with gauze covering his eyes.

He turned his head to the door as he heard it open and shut, the familiar voices of the Medic and Spy.

"I'm glad to see zhat you're awake! Herr Spy vanted to be here for vhenever I took zhe bandages off." The Medic explained moving to sit on the edge of Bait's bed. "I have zhe lights off for now, being able to see again vill most likely be a very big transition for you." With that, the Medic carefully unraveled the bandages from around the clone's head, and he was finally able to open his eyes.

He took a deep breath, the motion easier than it had been before as he looked around the room, in shock as he was able to take in everything around him. A shaky laugh escaped him, and he began to smile. After a moment, he pulled the medic into a firm hug, his laughter turning to small sobs, tears of joy running down his face as he felt an extra set of arms around him, just for a moment.

As he pulled away from the Medic, wiping his tears with the heel of his palm, he looked up at the Spy, who had a rare genuine smile on his face.

"I told you the docteur would treat you well. Everyone here has been rooting for you, mon garçon... Myself especially."

Part 9

@thatonesimp-e @realccre

Another sweeter chapter, before everything goes to hell.

[eyesofshan-if]

Hello there! :D

First of all, Happy New Year! I wanted to tell you that I'm already hooked on your IF. You immediately got my attention. I'm already in love with Hansol and Yongsun, haha <3

I've got a few questions, if that is alright with you. Please feel free to only answer what you want or ignore it entirely if it's too many at once!

First: I checked your Tumblr and the post on the forum but I didn't see anything so I'm wondering what we should refer to you as? (It feels a bit weird to always say "dear author" and the likes, unless that's something you'd prefer of course!)

Second: I love the character posts you've already done and talking about the ROs I'm wondering if you could--if you have time, no rush there--post a color palette for skin colors? I read the text but I always have a hard time getting it from that alone 🥲

3rd: what sort of voices does everyone have? (Rough, smooth, melodic, etc. ) Maybe you even have some voice actors in mind what you'd think they would sound like? Though I personally only really recognize Japanese VAs, I would gladly Google anyone else lmao

That's it, sorry this got so long😭

To wrap this up I hope you have a wonderful week, lots of fun with your story and please don't forget to rest, eat and hydrate enough! :D

happy new year (although this reply is a few days late oops) i’m really glad that you like my sorry attempt at an IF!! here are my answers under the cut because its pretty long!!

one: you can refer to me as pingu (i just decided that today) for now!! but i do like being called dear author as well <3

two: i will try my best for a skin colour palette, but here’s a warning that my eye for anything colour related is absolutely awful. trying to do those moodboards was an emotional rollercoaster. but because you asked i will try my best. please remember that these are only my take on the subject, and you’re free to have some artistic freedom with where you take it!!

^^ this was an awful struggle and should probably just be used as a suggestion because i am an absolute clown when it comes to colour. please just use it as a reference for the light to dark and warm to neutral skin tones!!

three: i’ll try putting a mixture of kpop idols here together with japanese vas, so you can hear them speak in a normal tone!! japanese vas tend to exagerrate a lot in their delivery, which is not how i imagine them to speak in real life hoho. most of the kpop idols voices come from the group ateez, who are around the ages of most of the characters mentioned

hansol: warm to people he is close with. his voice feels like the gentle heat of a fire after spending a long time out in the cold. tends to speak politely and use proper language, but there’s a certain liveliness to his tone. his voice references are ateez’s yunho and hino satoshi

insu: his voice is always sharp and cold, like the edge of a steel blade. he speaks briskly, always prioritizing efficiency. not afraid to swear at anyone, including the emperor. his voice references are ateez’s yeosang and yuki kaji (specifically his todoroki voice, not eren yeager)

yongsun: listening to his voice feels like you’re sitting next to a running stream alone at night, moonlight ripping off the waters. he always speaks calmly, seemingly able to make any situation feel lighter with a single sentence, and each word contains a certain quiet self confidence. his voice references are kaedehara kazuha (nobunaga shimazaki) and kamisato ayato (akira ishida)

wooyoung: lighthearted and playful. there’s are little ups and downs to his cadence that makes you feel as though the sun is shining on you, beckoning you to play outside. he might not sound like the refined gentleman he’s supposed to be, but his voice is enjoyable to listen to. his pitch isn’t very low, and sounds youthful. his voice reference is ateez’s wooyoung (wow) 

[jesseevelann]

Hey! I saw your post about Temashika, I honestly wasn’t expecting you to reply so it meant a lot to me!

Could you do writing of Shikamaru overworking himself and temari finding ways to get him to stop? Love your work so much! ❤️

Shikamaru grumbled at the excessive shouting and chatter from outside. His pen strokes becoming stiff and crooked as his nerves were struck. He only had a few more things to fill out.

His head pounded as the talk got louder, his eyes watering from the pain. The motive of almost being done giving him enough strength to resist dropping his pen and leaving it half done. The sound of knocking on the door almost tipped him over the edge, but the pattern kept him quiet. It was familiar. It was Temari.

He barely got the 'come in' out of his mouth, the want for silence near gluing his lips shut. Her scent hitting his nose made him relax, though it wasn't very much. She rubbed his shoulders firmly.

"I think it's time for a break... don't you?"

Shikamaru shook his head. He was too close to stop. Temari didn't quit though. Firmly pushing her palms into his shoulders, rubbing out the knots in his muscles with her thumbs.

A sigh passed through his lips, Temari's rough hands soothing the aches in his back. His eyes fluttered shut blissfully, biting back a small moan that begged to be released.

"Come home for a bit... I'm sure Naruto won't mind. Have lunch with me."

She leaned in, kissing the back of his neck, her voice quiet and in a tone only he would hear. Deep and calm with a hint of demand. Shikamaru let out a shaky breath, Temari turned his chair around, making him face her.

Her expression was soft, with a little bit of worry. A soft kiss to his forehead made him cave.

Temari helped him clean the mess of a desk he had, switching off the lamp and carrying his things for him. She helped him out of his chair and held him close, knowing how lightheaded he was.

"Thank you, Temari..."

"Don't sweat it."

// end

Thank you for the prompt! It was very fun. I'm glad you enjoy my work, and that I could make you happy. It makes me so glad that I can do that for you ❤️

[billsfangearring]

❤️ Valentine's Day Self-Rec ❤️

I'm going to do a little Valentine's Day self-rec because I think this is a good day to show a little love to ourselves too! I wrote daily 250-word Jess/Lupe sprint ficlets last week and I'm proud of myself for a few different reasons that I'll put below the cut, but first, some little superlative awards for my Love & Baseball series!

Love, In Deed and In Truth

⚾️ ❤️ Most Poetic ❤️ ⚾️

It started that first day on the ball field, when Lupe noticed a woman sizing her up from the on-deck circle with a well-worn bat slung over her shoulders and fire in her eyes and hair.

Two Fingers Means Curveball

⚾️ ❤️ Most Nuanced ❤️ ⚾️

Beverly has some advice for her errant pitcher.

red is the fire in our veins

⚾️ ❤️ Most Thematic ❤️ ⚾️

It was inevitable, really, a foregone conclusion, that Lupe’s gaze would be drawn to the muscled thigh next to her that’s outlined in insolent red.

your love's got me trippin' on you

⚾️ ❤️ Most Lively ❤️ ⚾️

All’s fair in love and baseball.

keep you like an oath

⚾️ ❤️ Most Complete ❤️ ⚾️

By unspoken agreement, Jess and Lupe keep Vi’s a secret—even from those who would be welcome. Lupe probably has a number of complicated reasons for it, but Jess only has one: she’s selfish as hell.

Kiss Cam

⚾️ ❤️ Most Fun ❤️ ⚾️

The “Set It Up” baseball scene, Peaches style.

I've Built My Life Around You

⚾️ ❤️ Most Understated ❤️ ⚾️

“Can’t believe it’s been ten years,” Jess says into the silent stadium. It’s not hard for Lupe to believe at all, actually, now that they’re back at Beyer.

(Now for some self-indulgent rambling—don't mind me.)

Why I'm glad I did this, beyond throwing my hat into the Jess/Lupe ring for the first time:

I wrote every day and got into a rhythm! Hopefully I can carry this forward into other projects.

I aimed to and largely succeeded in writing and posting each of these in about an hour, so this series was good practice in just putting something down on the page instead of overthinking it.

I mostly didn't let myself edit other than paring them down to 250 words—I tended to write around 260 to start—so that was more practice in not overthinking things and in not editing as I write.

I stretched myself with these! I tried out some new-to-me POVs and forced myself to write dialogue, my beloathed. I even wrote something I'd classify as crack for the first time. Who am I?

The strict word count that I set forced me to be pretty economical with my language, which is something I strive for, and it was nice to keep that muscle activated while I simultaneously co-write a long-for-me fic. Don't want to develop any bad habits (for my personal writing style) ;)

Honestly, I think these ficlets turned out pretty well on the whole! There are some rough edges and pacing issues that I'd have liked to smooth under other circumstances, but all in all I stand by them, which is big for me because I don't think of myself as a good first draft writer. I'm also proud of myself for completing this challenge I set rather than wallowing in self-doubt and self-consciousness and bailing before the end.

Okay, I’m done now. Happy Valentine’s Day! <3

Okay, I’m done now, if anyone read this far.

Happy Valentine's Day, friends! <3