#and not annoyed with myself for not putting more time and effort in towards whatever im doing on the site

[oflgtfol]

blogging about flight rising on main made me nostalgic so i took a quick look thru my flight rising art folder and i found this old wip that is unfinished and hasnt been touched since 2018. i still really like it, it hasnt aged too much really like a lot of my old art has, but maybe that's because its still unfinished. (btw that like, weird uncolored liquid was going to be lava lol </3)

really though it's making me a bit nostalgic for my old lineart style.. like man i kinda do miss having those types of lines. idk something about it just feels more organic and free flowing compared to my lines now, plus the pen pressure edges... but it always took so fucking long to do it that way and the inconvenience of having to bust out my tablet every time i wanted to draw... my current lineart style is quicker and more convenient which i like but i feel like im sacrificing something i used to have with my old style... </3

anyway this is my dragon ignacia btw.

[girlboybug]

Shades of Cool

“my baby lives in shades of cool, cold heart and hands of aptitude.”

or the one where joel can’t seem to stay away from you despite his efforts to. but it���s not like he tried very hard to begin with.

what’s playing 🎧 : shades of cool by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, creampie, breeding kink if u squint, oral f receiving, fingering, loss of virginity, virginity kink if u squint yet again, tummy bulge, unspecified age gap and joel kind of has a thing for it, unprotected sex, (pls wear a condom guys im just a mf on tumblr) multiple orgasms, a tad of overstimulation, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, mating press, prone bone, light dom/sub dynamics, reader def has some unresolved daddy issues mean!joel but theres some soft joel

TRIGGER WARNINGS : minor character death/reference to his death but he literally doesn't exist in the show i promise, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, implied/references to sexual harassment

a/n : this is my first time uploading to tumblr, forgive me if my layout is funky lol, anyways pls enjoy <3 read the second part here

you swallowed hard when you saw joel making his way towards the alleyway you two routinely met up in. watching as he did his typical side to side glance, casual in presence but it was muscle memory for him to ensure the safety of his environment no matter it’s location or the mundaneness of it. 

you quite disliked the feeling that pricked your chest and quickly spread inside the cavity, overflowing up into your throat and drowning out any coherent thoughts in your mind whenever you saw joel. 

it was annoying. pathetic even. just a silly schoolgirl crush you hoped would go away in time. 

you put aside the fluttering feelings for later, and waved, catching his attention. he sent a curt nod, rubbing his palms together before pushing them into his denim pockets. “hey.” he greeted you, if you could really call it that. 

you took whatever you could get from him, so you smiled, parroting it back with a nervous politeness. 

“do you have the uh…” you trailed off, feeling embarrassed that you struggled to even verbalize what you were trading. 

he raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest, looking at you expectingly. “i got it. you got the rations?” he finished speaking for you and you nodded enthusiastically, hurriedly pulling out the thick wad of rations you worked your ass off for. 

he shut his eyes with exasperation for a few seconds before hovering his larger hand over the wad, miraculously dwarfing your own hand. “don’t wave it around kid, jesus,” he sighed, shaking his head while palming it and sliding it away into his back pocket. 

“sorry…” you muttered embarrassedly. 

he didn’t reply, and instead handed you a box, bright purple and pink and your gaze slowly rose up to his face with a slightly ajar mouth. “uh. joel.” you started, voice leading into an upward trail of confusion. 

“if i wanted tampons i could have easily gotten this myself.” you wanted to hide the slight irritation in your tone but he caught on to it, unfolding his arms to jab the top of the box with his index finger. “how about you open it smartass.” he instructed dryly, moving backward and refolding his arms. 

your eyes lingered on him tryingly for a few more seconds, huffing quietly to yourself before flipping the cardboard flap up. 

again. tampons. 

you tilted it towards him and he dragged his hand down his face tiredly. he dug his hand into the box, the tampons shoved to the sides, revealing a small pistol. 

your mouth fell open into a comical O shape, laughing in awe. “oh!” you giggled and joel stared at you blankly, already feeling a hankering for a straight shot of whiskey at the bright and early hour of 8:30am. 

“very creative.” you beamed and it seemed as though joel fought back a smile behind a glare. at least, you told yourself that. 

“just enough for gullible people.” he pushed at a button of yours, just a little, and you paused for a second, shooting him a playful glare. “whatever,” you exhaled through a quiet chuckle. 

“thank you joel, i appreciate the um. tampons, i was running low.” you played along with the bit and he rolled his eyes, nodding, already ready to go back home. 

“sure thing.” he was about to turn and walk out of the alleyway but something held him in his spot. 

he took in a deep inhale before making eye contact with you, rendering you back into your nervous state from when he first arrived. 

“why do you need a pistol? we’ve only ever traded for small things. why the sudden big order?” he has absolutely no clue why he’s asking you this, or rather, he has no idea why he’s letting himself ask this. 

he shouldn’t care. he doesn’t. 

you stiffened, straightening your back and holding the box to your stomach, hands cupping the bottom of it. “just to keep at my place. thought i’d feel safer with it.” you answered truthfully, making sure to not go further into detail. 

his squinted eyes stay on you for awhile, unsure of what you needed to feel safe from. “are you uh…in any trouble?” he asks and you feel a little excitement ignite in your lower belly. 

is he worried about you?

“no! no not at all, i just…i don’t know,” you try to laugh it off but the silence between you two just feels heavy instead. “why do you ask?” you question and he shrugged. 

“if you’re in trouble, i don’t need it somehow coming back to me. i got enough shit i need to worry about.” he answered and the bubble inside you popped and deflated almost immediately. 

“oh, well no need to worry about that. it’s nothing like that, you’ll be fine.” you decided to end the conversation there, a cold feeling of humiliation that prods at your shoulders and throat alerting you that it’s best to just walk away before you can say anything else that might make the situation more unbearable. 

“thanks joel.” you added, quickly making your way out the alleyway. “be careful with that thing.” he called out after you, and you feel the bubble slowly start to shamelessly inflate itself once more. 

maybe he does care. even if it’s just a little. 

—

you hid the box in the shoddy nightstand you had lugged up into your apartment from off the street one night, and exhaled lowly, pursing your lips. “this is good.” you stated to yourself. 

the whole reason why you wanted a gun, was kind of useless if you really put some actual thought into it. 

it really was just for the comfort of your mind, putting the nerves you had at ease. like a security blanket of sorts. 

fedra soldiers occasionally conduct inspections, making a mess of people’s homes to look for any contraband, firefly propaganda, weapons, anything that so much acts as an eyesore to them is grounds for permanent confiscation. 

there’s a specific solider that just makes you uncomfortable, makes your skin prickle up into sharp goosebumps and makes your stomach churn like dry gears rubbing up against each other. 

the way his eyes follow you around, rejoicing in his power over you and how you cowered away from him. 

they come in as pairs to inspect and even if they didn’t, he was still taller, stronger, heavily armed and trained and could kill you in front of a crowd of people and still face no consequences. so a singular witness wouldn't stop him from breaking the rules.

if anything, you’ve probably just put yourself in more danger carrying a weapon. but you felt that if you had it, you maybe had a fighting chance in case push came to shove. 

you collected yourself into your very depressing excuse of a bed, lifting the fraying crotched blanket over your body, pretending you were anything less than semi uncomfortable.

the next morning, you woke up with a slightly sore feeling that resided in just about every crevice of your body but you ignore it, as it’s a common thing to wake up to if you’ve got what basically feels like laying on a napkin as a bed, and using what feels like an even thinner napkin as a blanket. 

you readied yourself to participate in street clean up, since you had to take on more shifts than usual to make up for the hefty chunk of rations you gave to joel. 

—

a bandana resided around your nose, neatly but tightly tied behind your head, doing…definitely not enough to cover the stench of cleaning the sludge off the streets. 

"the fuck would i need coffee beans for asshole? hit me up when you’ve actually got good shit to trade.” you overheard two guys a few feet away from you bickering, your ears perking up at the mention of coffee beans. 

you remembered joel vaguely mentioning how he’d kill for a cup of coffee, and you agreed on that sentiment, even though you’ve never once had coffee.  the point being, he’d been out of coffee for awhile, unable to find anyone who has it, and you figured maybe scoring him a bag would be a nice sign of gratitude for the pistol. 

you pulled down your bandana, walking over to the guy once the other one walked off. “hi, um i didn’t mean to eavesdrop but i heard you have coffee beans? i’d be willing to trade for them.” 

“i don’t take kindly to nosy—“ he cut himself off mid sentence once he turned to look at you, his eyes dragging up and down your body and you wondered in that moment if it was worth the hassle of talking to this. thing. 

but then you thought of joel, and how maybe he’d smile at you, thank you with a tight bear hug and suddenly, it did all seem worth it. 

“yeah, yeah i’d definitely be happy to trade with you,” he grinned and you laughed, trying to hide your disgust with fake excitement. “great! what would you want for it? i have some spare shampoo bars, a pair of wool socks i was saving for winter, or—“ 

he cut you off this time, leaning into your space closer and you instinctively backed away. “i was thinking maybe something different.” he alluded to something that made cleaning up literal shit off the street seem a lot more pleasant. 

your face fell and you lifted up your bandana. “yeah, nevermind. thanks anyway.” 

you turned on your heel and he groaned, calling after you. “the socks…” he huffed, rubbing the side of his chin. “are they soft?” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 

you tugged down the bandana again, smiling brightly. “very!” 

—

you scheduled another meet up with joel, excited to gift him the bag of coffee beans. 

you were slightly sad to let go of the socks, your feet always got so cold in the winter and the nights were already starting to increase in frigidness, but it’s okay, you could always find another pair of socks again, but you didn’t know if you’d have another chance to pleasantly surprise joel like this. 

against joel’s typical judgment, he said to just stop by his apartment, feeling too tired to lug himself down into the alleyway again. 

but all you heard from that was he trusted you enough into his personal space. which, as much as joel would deny it, is true. 

he could clearly envision you apologizing to a fly for so much as being in its way, so inviting you over posed as nowhere near a threat. 

you knocked at his door, hiding the bag behind your back before he opened it. the wind got knocked out of you once more at the sight of him. he was very much older than you, easily the age of a man who could be your father, but that didn’t erase any of his attractiveness. 

in the deepest part of your subconscious, you knew that that’s what added onto it. 

“hi!” you chirped and he stepped to the side, widening his door to let you in. “hi.” he repeated, drier but, not unhappily. 

“what’d you wanna trade for again?” he asked, his hand rubbing the side of his stubbly jaw, and you had to look away, knowing you’d just watch him in silence if you didn’t. 

“actually,” you hummed, nearly bursting at the seems with glee. he watched you curiously, unaware of the slight smile on his face as he watched you tip toe closer with your hand still behind your back. 

“i didn’t come by to trade. i got you a gift!” he rested his palms behind him on the small table, his broad shoulders seeming even broader now and you wanted to run your hands across the expanse of them. 

“a gift?” he asked, breaking you out of your trance. he sounded genuinely shocked, almost unable to believe you. “mhm!” you nodded, a smile still etched on your features. 

“close your eyes, and open your hands.” you instructed, and he tilted the side of his head to you, wordlessly saying really? 

you nudged your chin, motioning for him to listen, your way of replying with yes, really.

he eyed you before shaking his head, standing up straight and closing his eyes, his palms bared out for you, muttering a quiet, i have no idea why i’m listenin’ to you. 

you plopped the bag of coffee into his hands, sing songing a soft “now open!” 

he opened his eyes, his lips parting in awe. he laughed out of disbelief, and your heart soared with joy as you saw him smile, and widely at that. 

“kid…you��why? i mean, god, thank you, but why?” he asked and you shrugged, rocking back and forth on your heel to your toes. “take it as a thanks for my pist-i mean tampons.” you joked and he chuckled, shaking his head and putting the beans down onto the table. 

“well, thank you, that’s mighty kind of you.” he looked downward at you, and you looked back up at him, trying to memorize the way his lips were curled, the sweet lines by his eyes and the way he just seemed so happy by such a small act of kindness. 

“no biggie!” you replied, and he darted his eyes away for a moment before turning back to you. “do you know how to use your gun?” he asked and you felt your face grow hot with slight embarrassment. 

“uh. i mean you just aim and pull the trigger right?” you asked honestly and he blinked a few times before shaking his head. “okay so you don’t.” and you squinted at him. “i could teach you. get you some extra bullets too.” he remedied the half joking comment with his offer and you perked up. 

“yeah? you would?” you asked excitedly and he nodded. “‘course. you just went from tolerated, to slightly more tolerated in my book. so i’m gonna help you not accidentally shoot yourself in the foot.” 

you didn’t like how you actually felt a twinge of sadness at his obvious joke about only tolerating you. he was kidding, but sometimes it was hard to tell because he had the same monotone, slightly annoyed at everything everyone has to say, kind of voice. 

and you were a sensitive person, and even the most harmless jokes could manage to sting you. 

“well jeez aren’t you sweet.” you complimented with sarcasm. joel threw on his flannel, ignoring your comment. you stepped aside while he made his way to the door. 

“you comin?” he looked at you, opening the door behind him, waiting for you to follow. you turned around to look behind you stupidly, then back to him. “what?” you asked confusedly and he fought the urge to roll his eyes and take back his offer. 

“we’re gonna start now.” he inclined his head out the door, motioning for you to come along. and who were you to decline doing anything with joel. 

—

joel was here. in your apartment. in your space, in your air. he was sitting on your bed, the place where you’d occasionally, frequently shove your fingers into places you just knew joel would be able to reach with no effort. 

he ran his fingers over the barrel of the gun, drumming against its ridges and for a moment you felt a bit envious over the literal inanimate object. 

“cmere,” he patted the space next to him, waiting for you to be seated so he could get started. 

with wobbly legs you made your way to him, smoothing over your jeans in an attempt to secretly wipe away your clammy palms. 

“show me how you hold it.” he placed it in your hands and it felt foreign to the touch. it was heavier than you expected it to be but you tried to conceal your inexperience by holding it the way you’ve seen others handle their firearms. 

you pointed it at the door, pretending that soldier was in front of you, finger on the trigger and hands at the bottom of it, supporting your grasp. 

he observed your hold, a low hmm coming from the back of his throat. “not terrible.” he adjusted your hands, your skin latching onto his heat, claiming it as yours as his body hovered around your side. 

“how’s that feel?” he asked and you cleared your throat, blinking a few times and avoiding his close stare. “it uh, it feels better.” you answered and he clicked his tongue, nodding curtly to himself. 

“alright. now, when you run out of bullets, the magazine at the bottom might drop out but if it doesn’t, you’re gonna take it out and reload, you wanna be fast if you’re in the middle of, well whatever situations got you needing to pull out a gun.” there was a slight cadence of a joke in his gun lesson 101, and it made a giddy feeling return to your tummy. 

he reached in his back pocket, pulling out what you assumed he meant by magazine. 

he explained the logistics of your newly owned weapon, trying to use terms you’d be able to follow along with, not unaware of how you were watching and listening intently, hanging on to every word he spoke. 

you were too damn obvious. 

—

you saw more of joel after that, bumping into him in places you usually didn’t see him, yet seemingly excited every time you met. 

his aloof stare slowly turned softer when it landed on you, maybe it never changed at all but to you it definitely felt different. 

he swore it was you that had been following him, an air of playfulness in his accusations of you stalking him, but really it was him. 

he unable to admit to himself that he  wandered around the areas he knew you were usually found in, wanting to scold you for having such an easy routine to follow but he kept it to himself. 

he watched you walk beside him, taking in the sights of the town, wondering how you could possibly appreciate the hellhole that surrounded you all. 

“so how’s the coffee? any good?” you asked, turning back to look at him, feeling a hushed breath pause in your throat once you saw he was already looking at you. 

a peek of a smile ghosted over his face. “it’s good. i, i appreciate that you did that. i hope you didn’t have to trade too much for it.” guilt resided in him at the thought of you having to give more than you had just for coffee beans. he felt he wasn’t worth all that effort. 

you shook your head, laughing lightly at the memory of the trade. “no no don’t worry, just a pair of socks. they were these brown wool socks that were so soft, so i’d say it was a pretty fair trade.” 

“i’ll be on the look out for a pair like that then.” he was already figuring out who he could trade with to get you another pair of socks. “no it’s okay you don’t have to it’s-“

“hey,” his voice felt rich, calling your attention back to him. your chest went tight. “yeah?” you whispered back. 

“shut up. i’m gettin’ the socks.” there was a backbone of sternness in his lighthearted promise.

you sucked on your bottom lip through a grin before you spoke again.

“i have a confession.” you exhaled, feigning dramatics and he tilted his head towards you, watching you with worried eyes. “yeah?” 

“i lied. i’ve never had coffee before.” you lowered your head with faux shame and he gasped, shaking his head with disapproval. he paused for a moment, then turned around. 

you caught up with him, holding onto his arm, feeling hot at the taut feeling of his limb, and how he didn’t push you off. he just peered down at you, keeping you there with him. “jeez i didn’t think you’d take such offense to that,” you breathed out through a chuckle. 

“inexcusable. you’re tryin it when we get home.” the twang in his accent was something so attractive, and it only had you feeling more and more willing to do whatever he wanted. you’d drink acid if he asked of it from you in that deep southern drawl. 

you two walked back to his place, shedding a layer out of many, holding onto it as you trailed in behind him. 

he glanced over at you, then your coat. “set it down somewhere, you can have a seat.” he pointed at the round table and you quietly thanked him, hanging your coat over the back of the chair before sliding it out and sitting in it. 

“i remember you have a sweet tooth. damn near talked my head off about trading for a bag of hard candies a few months ago, so i reckon you’d like it sweet.” he mostly talked to himself when he said that, fondly remembering the way you rattled on about how you were craving for caramel drops. 

“you remember that?” you were just about swooning, unable to hide it even when joel walked back over to you, two mugs in each hand of his. “how could i not? you never let me forget it.” he set the mug down in front of you, sipping at his as he leaned back into the chair in front of you. 

you picked it up, hugging the warmth of it with your palm. you took a light sip, your eye shutting, a low quiet moan leaving your lips from around the mug once the taste landed on your tongue. 

joel stirred in his seat at the sound, busying himself with drinking from his cup to avoid making any kind of facial expressions. 

“joel,” you crooned and he felt weak. “you like it?” he asked, his lips still curled over the rim of his mug. “it’s so good, i understand why you like it so much.” 

“well, i don’t make it as sweet as that, but yeah, coffees good. not a lot of people agree.” he shrugged and you set your mug down in front of you. “can i taste yours?” 

he slid it to you and you lifted it, tasting it and almost immediately wanting to spit it out. you quickly gave it back to him, sipping the sweeter coffee to cleanse your offended palette. 

“yeah, that tastes like shit, i don’t know how you drink that.” you smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, the burnt taste not quite leaving you just yet. 

he rolled his eyes, taking a loud obnoxious slurp. “my tastebuds are just mature.” 

“mature for what? shit? once you hit a certain age do just you grow accustomed to crappy tasting things?” you were dipping into a more casual way of speaking to joel, causing his gaze that rested on you to turn into a view of amusement. 

“rich comin’ from the kid who still eats like she’s 5.” he rested his arm against the back of his chair, and you expired, feeling a bit defensive of being called a child. 

“i’m not a kid.” you muttered and he chuckled. “alright.” he agreed in sentiments but not in actuality. 

breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room you and joel shared, a loud bang rang from against the door. joel slid from out his chair, hurriedly pacing towards the door. 

before he could even open it, you already knew it was one of fedra’s soldiers. things were starting to feel a little too lax, it was only a matter of time until they came knocking down doors again. 

your throat went dry, stomach cinching with anxiety once he stepped inside, the same soldier that had you saving up your rations week after week to be able to afford the pistol from joel. 

his eyes flickered between you and joel, scoffing to himself. “what’s this?” he asked you, ignoring joel who stood right in front of him. 

“nothing.” you answered, intimidation and fear already prickling at your skin and racing down your spine. 

joel stood in front of you, shielding you away from him, and slowly, the fear lifted itself itself away from you, but not fully. not while he’s still here. 

“aren’t there usually two of you who do these searches?” joel questioned, watching as the solider jabbed at various things of joel’s with the tip of his rifle. 

“partners out sick. so y’all get the pleasure of havin just me.” he flashed an ugly grin at you, bending to the side to see your uncomfortable face behind joel’s back. 

he walked around, haphazardly lifting and tossing things about. 

“oh?” he bent down, squatting by joel’s bed. “what’s this?” he waved around a baggy full of white powder. joel stiffened, his nostrils flaring in anger. 

“that’s not mine and you know it.” and surprisingly it actually wasn’t. 

joel had just sold the last of his pills to a sad sap unable to sleep without them, and that was a month ago. the asshole was planting drugs on him. 

“this is not only grounds for confiscation but imprisonment. tough spot you’re in miller.” joel exhaled angrily from a quiet ragged breath. 

“unless,” he came up to you, pushing past joel to cup your chin. “she wants to, convince me why i shouldn’t take you down for this contraband.” you flinched from his touch but it only made him hold on tighter. 

joel snatched his wrist away, stepping back in front of you. “you don’t have to involve her. what do you want? rations, half of my next haul? what?” he gritted and the solider just laughed. 

“you think i don’t have easy access to all that? i want something you can’t easily trade for.” he leaned to the side, waving at you. 

joel pushed him backward, triggering the response of a rifle being shoved in his face. joel didn’t so much as waver, grabbing the neck of the firearm, pointing it away from him while his foot came and rammed down onto the front of his shin, successfully knocking him down with a loud wail of pain. 

it happened so fast all you could do was sit and watch, frozen in place as joel lost himself on top of the solider, pounding and pounding and pounding his fists in relentlessly, not stopping despite the ache trickling over across his knuckles. 

you heard a sick squelch followed by cracking noises and you knew that should’ve made you fear joel. it should’ve made you run out the door and never look back. but it did the opposite. you never wanted to stay more. 

you watched with wide pupils as he rose up from the beaten and bloodied solider, breathing hard and loud, stumbling upward to a leant stance, staring at the lifeless solider on his wood floors. 

he wiped his nose with the clean, unbloodied slate of his forearm, before dropping it back to his side to lean forward and spit over the body. 

he turned back to you, scanning your face for any hurt, fear or disgust. 

but there was none. 

before you could say anything, he spoke aloud his thoughts. “i gotta get rid of the body.” 

“do you need help?” you extended a hand willing to assist and joel shook his head a hard no. “you saw enough, you don’t need to see more. i’ll be back.” 

you stood up, pressing a hand to his chest, looking at him with watery eyes. he wanted to wipe them away from you, but he couldn’t. not with the blood that was already starting to cake under his nails. 

“joel i want to help.” you admitted, soft voice trembling and joel leaned forward, his face close to yours. “you should probably go sweetheart, you don’t need to get wrapped up further in this.” his words traveled along the coast of a gentle but solid whisper. 

“i don’t want to go.” your voice barely carrying itself loud enough as a reply, eyes following joel’s actions of walking away from you to roll up the soldier in a thin fraying carpet. 

“you should.” is all he said, walking out the door with a body dragging behind him. 

—

you went against any logical thought process whatsoever and stayed. you decided you’d make yourself useful, feeling as though the events that continually replayed in your head felt like your fault. 

you sat on your knees, scrubbing at the blood that had already set in the floors. 

you scrubbed until it hurt, and you kept going despite the fact. you dunked the scrubber into the bucket of soapy water turned brown, squeezing the excess onto the floor before rubbing it in. 

the door clicked open and your head whipped towards it, heart leaping in your chest once you saw joel stumble in. 

“hi.” you breathed and he looked at you with surprise. he saw the work you busied yourself with, locking the door before making his way to you. “what’re you doin’?” he asked gently, yet again in shock at how unabashedly kind you were to him. 

“didn’t want the blood just sitting here on your floors. ‘least i could do since it’s my fault that all happened.” you sniffled, feeling guilty at what had transpired. though the guilt was there, a sense of gratitude was even larger. 

he did that, for you. 

he bent down to catch your watery gaze. “no, no that was not your fault. just got a little carried away. ‘don’t want you thinkin’ that you had anything to do with my choices, okay?” he leaned to the side, catching your eyes that were avoiding his. “okay?” he repeated, waiting for you to say it back to him. 

“okay.” you mouthed just below a whisper. he took the bucket and the scrubber, walking to the sink. you of course, trailed behind him. 

he lifted his sleeves, turning on the faucet to rinse off the dried blood on his hands. 

he picked at under his nails, scraping the blood off wherever he saw it. which was, every inch of his hands. 

his body faced back to you, his now cleaned hands picking up yours, seeing specks of blood and dirt splattered on your hands from cleaning his floor. 

he washed you clean, and all you could do was admire him. how gentle he was taking care of you. he rinsed your skin clear of blood, drying you up and letting your hands rest back to your sides. 

“i’m sorry you had to see that.” he apologized, feeling ashamed of how little he was in control of his anger in that moment. 

you shook your head, hands shakily resting on his chest. “no, i don’t want you to be sorry.” you murmured, eyes landing on his lips. you swallowed back any fears that held you back from showing your affections any longer. 

you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. with a pleasant surprise, he kissed back, no hesitation in his actions. his hold fell to your waist, squeezing, pulling you into him. 

he took in your air, and you gave it to him, happily, willing to offer it in all its abundance. your hand rose to his cheek, palm resting over his beard. his thumb rested on your chin, rubbing it softly. 

he forced himself to pull away, his hands selfishly unable to remove themselves from your waist. “sweetheart this isn’t a good idea. you’re too young, and i’m not a good man. i think i just showed you that.” he tried to warn you, hushed and gently, with honest intentions of keeping you away from something you’d regret being involved with. 

but the only thing you’d regret is never being with him. 

“i’m not, and i don’t care what you do joel, i want you, all of you, want you so bad,” you all but whimpered, trying to press yourself against him more. 

he was a greedy man at heart, pulling you back up for a harder kiss. there was a hot hunger that was electric between you two, a burning ignition that pulled you two in, tying an in separable twine amidst your bodies. but neither of you ever had any intentions of undoing it anyways. 

he held the side of your cheek, the other traveling from your lower back to your ass, squeezing it hard, using his grip to pull you in closer, grinding up against you right there. 

you were so needy for him that it rattled your bones. a wet clicking noise elicited from your mouths, tongues brushing up together messily. your chin dribbling with saliva. 

you moaned in his mouth, feeling the hand that was on your cheek move to hold you by the back of your head, his tilting to kiss you deeper. 

he untangled your lips, keeping himself not even an inch away, just to share the breath between you two. your tongue flicked over his lips, biting down on the bottom one before lurching forward for him once more. 

he groaned in your mouth, lifting his hand to come down and spank your ass. you whined, back arching and crotch brushing up against his. 

you two stumbled towards his bed, your back falling into the mattress. he crawled on top of you, ridding himself of his boots and you of yours. 

his knee rested on one side of your hip, the other coming between your thighs. your chest rose up into his, your back lifting off the sheets and hands coming up to paw at his chest. 

without any reservations, you rubbed against his knee, struggling to kiss him back. “feel good little girl?” he sounded gruff, strained voice trying it’s best to not moan at the way your wet little cunt managed to create a wet spot on his knee. 

“so good joel,” you gaped, kissing his neck desperately. 

“shouldn’t be touchin’ you like this, sweet little thing like you gettin handled by someone like me,” he breathed through a series of heavy pants, his hands wandering all along your sides, your hips, your thighs. 

“don’t want anyone else but you.” you whimpered truthfully, holding his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest, right above your heart. you let it drift to the left, shuddering when he squeezed your breast. 

he kissed your pulse, teeth baring out against it. he rested his hand on your lower belly, rubbing the skin under your tank top. “can i touch you?” he whispered, his beard tickling the space just below your ear. 

you nodded, running your hands all along his strong back. “please,” you bucked your hips upward, begging with not only your words but your body. 

he exhaled out a quiet chuckle, fingers working to undo your jeans, tugging them down until they were forgotten on the floor. 

he dipped down beneath your underwear, his cock throbbing in his boxers at how wet you were. so soaked it was pathetic. he hadn’t let his hand drift down to the sweet place between those thighs of yours til then, and yet you were as wet as if he had his tongue pressed up against you. 

actually, that’s not a bad idea.

he circled around your clit, watching as you revealed in it, his fingers being thicker than yours, making the sensation all the more intense. 

“joel,” you repeated his name, voice wavering in breathy gasps, his fingers rolling the sensitive button of yours. he slipped a finger inside you, eyes peering up and watching as your back rose just a little, hips pressuring downward and further onto his finger, taking him all in. 

“so soft,” he murmured, lowering himself to press a kiss to your hip. he rolled his hips into the mattress, trying ease the pressure building up beneath his jeans. 

he was too turned on, this young pretty girl he’s had his eye on for a year was sprawled in his bed, soft and soaked cunt all ready and pliable just for him and him alone. 

he could die a happy man. 

his lips encircled your clit, tongue drawing around it while he pressed into a familiar spongy spot within you. 

you sucked in a sharp gasp, the sweet sound turning into a high pitched whine. “please,” you sobbed, hands flying down to keep his head in place. 

he fucked you with his fingers, curling right up against the spot that was making you dizzy, his tongue and lips working perfectly on your little clit. 

tears flowed down your face and on his pillow, your hand coming up to your mouth trying to lessen the volume of your cries. 

“j-joel, please i,” unable to formulate any sentences, you just gave up, giving in to your moans. 

the way you squeezed around his fingers, sucking him with greed and need, made him wonder how that’d feel around his cock when he’d get to finally shove it in you. 

he growled at the thought, sucking hard around your clit. you whimpered, pushing down onto his tongue more. 

“s’too much, i cant, i,” your head rolled around his pillow, his scent, his touch, his tongue suffocating you in the most heavenly way possible. 

you squirmed in his hold, unable to escape his grip, unable to escape the way his tongue pressed flat and hard up on your clit. his beard brushed up against your thighs, pulling a giggly moan from you. 

“perfect little pussy,” he grunted, kissing your clit before dragging his tongue slowly, up and down languidly. 

he rested his forearm over your lower tummy, pressing hard and feeling the corner of his lips perk at the way you gasped, shuddering loudly and trembling in his mouth at the action. 

“joel, i think i’m—ooh,” you spoke tearfully, poor little throat already getting hoarse from crying out his name. 

“feels good huh baby,” that little twang in his deep voice curled off his words just right. all you could do was whimper a shaky sogood joel s’good. 

his finger pressed up against that spot inside you, his tongue on your clit being the sweetest cherry on top of the tooth rotting sundae. 

you were cumming, hiccuping his name unashamedly. your plush thighs coming around to cage him in, to which he paid no mind to, if anything it excited him, his rough hands gripping your ass and pulling you deeper into his mouth. 

the wind up deep inside you finally released, flickering flashes of burning hot lights spread across your limbs, slowly fizzling out as you went limp in his bed. 

he didn’t let up however, his tongue grown addicted to the way your perfect clit felt on the wet muscle. 

you whimpered, struggling to push him away from your cunt. it was just too good and he hadn’t had enough yet. 

“joel n-no more s’too much,” you pleaded weakly, and he took slight pity, pressing one last kiss before rising back up to you. 

he pressed his fingers to your lips, groaning quietly with approval at the way you took them in with no verbal orders needed. 

you were so good for him, his sweet little girl. 

he pulled them out, resting on your plump bottom lip before moving it out the way to kiss you. you moaned deeply into his mouth, bringing your arms around him, hands traveling up to his hair. 

his salt and peppered hair felt soft, weaved through your gentle fingers. you lightly tugged on it, feeling mischief in your veins at the ministration. he growled, biting down on your lip and laughing as you yelped. 

he held your jaw, pressing hard kisses all along your face, speaking stilly, his inflection so deep, so masculine, so old and wise, had you hypnotized, his words that were reserved for your ears only, were something you’d cradle to yourself forever. 

“told myself i wouldn’t crack, i wouldn’t have you like this, you’re too young, you don’t know what you want, but fuck,” he dragged his fingers up your folds, chuckling to himself at the way you whimpered, curling into his touch immediately. 

“now that i got you, ‘fraid i can’t let you go sweetheart. i’m a selfish man at heart.” he admitted, kissing your jaw. you just about exploded in that moment. you had no idea he felt the same for you as you did him, and it was the most powerful, enlightening feeling you’ve ever felt. 

“i’m selfish too,” you whispered back, puckering your lips to kiss him. “didn’t let anyone else touch me but you. just wanted you,” you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, unaware to how that little admission made the precum collecting at his tip leak out even more. 

his grasp on your hip tightened, squeezing it as he buried his face in your neck. “fuck baby, gonna give this old man a heart attack sayin’ things like that.” 

your shaky hands went for his belt, tugging on it with need. “want you joel, please?” you begged, lips pressed to his ear. he didn’t need to be begged any more, he undid his belt with one hand, pulling it off his waist, letting it join the pile of your discarded jeans and boots. 

before he could take himself out, your hands found themselves under his flannel, desperate and anxious to see what he’s been concealing away from you. “off, please,” and he wanted to say no, feeling not as proud in his physique as he once was about 20 years ago. 

“nothin special to see baby,” he countered and you shook your head. “it’s you. it’s special to me.” you suspired airily, already feeling your tummy get tight at the thought of him hovering above you, shirtless. 

he took in a deep breath, letting you unbutton his flannel. 

you undid each button, trying your best to not rip them clean off despite your rushing efforts. you slid it off his body, exhaling in awe at the sight in front of you. 

you sucked on your bottom lip, hands traveling across his broad shoulders, fingers tracing his collarbones, dragging around the scarred areas from past wounds, admiring the few freckles on his chest that trail up to his shoulders. 

he watched you, never having felt so admired before. “enjoyin’ yourself baby?” he teased, his thumb rubbing over your chin. 

“mhm,” you nodded, not caring how it looked to be gawking at him. 

you could feel the muscle from the layer of life and age over his stomach, your eyes then falling to the bulge of his biceps, instantly growing obsessed, squeezing at the muscles. 

“you’re so beautiful joel.” you spoke with such true sincerity and he tittered quietly, shaking his head. “thank you baby,” 

your wandering hands finally fell to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper, eager to see what else he’d been keeping away from you. 

he let you, more than ready to feel your touch in the place he craved the most. he was tired of having to fuck his calloused fist, trying hard to pretend it was your cute hand touching him. 

you pulled him out, feeling your jaw go slack at the length of it all. “jesus joel,” you swallowed hard, steadily jerking him off, feeling slightly unsure if you’re doing it right. you were telling the truth, when you said you’d never let anyone touch you, too hopelessly in love with joel to even imagine allowing anyone to see you in the way he’s got you. 

he grunted, unintentionally bucking his hips into the tunnel of your hand. he was thick, heavy in your clutch, veins running along the side of it, his tip round and fat, almost red with droplets of precum leaking out. 

“gonna show you what those little boys could never give you,” he promised, and you believed him, gazing at the way he reluctantly pulled away from your hold, knowing if he let you stroke him any longer he’d cum all over your hand. 

he circled your clit with the head of his cock, shuddering a semblance of a breathy moan at the sensation. “gonna be a bit of a stretch baby, tell me if it’s too much okay? i’ll try to go slow.” he kissed his promises of gentleness into your temple. 

he inched in, hands around either side of your head, foreheads pushed together while your mouth fell open, sucking in all the air in the room. the stretch was very unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed.

you held onto his shoulders for support, grasping onto them tightly, pretty plump trembling lips crying out moans that would replay in joel’s head on lonely nights. you felt fuller than you ever have before joel was even fully inside you. 

he was nudging up against spots in you that you had no idea could feel so good, and if he angled his hips any higher, the fat head of his cock would be kissing your cervix. 

“can barely fit myself in ya’ baby,” he groaned, head falling from your forehead to bury itself in your neck, kissing your hot skin to try to calm him down before he lost control and rammed himself inside you. 

your calves rested on his hips, whimpering while trying to lift yourself up in an attempt to get him to push himself further in. 

“more joel, please?” your pleas were accompanied by sponged kisses just below his ear. “gonna take it all for me baby?” he questioned you, inching in just that much deeper, and you shut your eyes, nails already beginning to crescent themselves in his back. “mhm, gonna take it all,” you swore, more than eager to have him fully within you, as close as could be. 

he jutted his hips in, knocking the wind out of you. you bit down on his shoulder, whining a drool filled mess with the way he started to fuck you, rough hardened hands molding softly around the curves of your waist. 

he was bathing in the way your little cunt took him in, squeezing around him so good just like he knew you would. he took his time, rocking into you in and out, holding your shaking body close to him. 

you could feel every ridge and vein in you, hooked onto the way he filled you up, stretching you beyond belief, making you bounce upward with every movement. 

his hands slid down over the smooth skin of your thighs, widening them further open before pushing them up, growing impatient, achingly hungry to be deeper in you. you struggled for air at his fast actions, eyes immediately rolling back at the way he began to fuck into you. 

“can’t help myself, m’sorry baby, pussy’s too good, shit,” a gruff sigh of relief leaving his mouth at the way you took him in. you didn’t care, you were thrilled to take whatever he gave you, and however hard he saw fit. 

“feels s’good, feel so full,” you cried, translucent tears free falling, the aggressive pistons of his hips causing your swollen clit to ache, begging to be touched. 

“feel me right here huh baby?” he rubbed over the bulge in your tummy and you squealed, wriggling away from the overwhelming stimulation. “ha,” you strung out, arching up into him. 

“yeah, you do,” he taunted breathlessly, loving how you were a wreck beneath him. “in so deep joel,” you mumbled against his shoulder and he kissed your hair, nodding knowingly. “i know babygirl but you’re takin me so well,” he praised, feeling so proud of his sweet girl taking his cock like a pro. 

“never gonna let anyone see you like this?” he pressed deep there, corners of his lips curling when you weep, squeezing at his biceps. “never gonna let anyone have you like this?” you shook your head, sobbing a string of no joel no, never, just you.

“perfect, tight fuckin’ cunt is all for me, aint sharin’ with no one,” he held you by the back of your thighs even further, stressing how serious he was, set on fucking himself into your soaked hole until there was a permanent shape of him within you. a shape no man could ever fit into. 

sobs of uncontrollable pleasure were the only thing you could feel in your veins, pumping your blood full of dopamine. his balls tightened, hitting the fullness of your ass, and he let himself grow sporadic, let himself take you. his fingers found your desperate clit, chuckling to himself when you croon tearfully, thanking him pathetically for touching you. 

“can i cum, please?” your requests only made him twitch inside you, his sweet girl was so polite. “go ahead baby, let it out,” he leaned down to kiss you, swallowing up your moans and cries. 

your body jerked under him, the tight vice of your cunt gripping onto him while he rubbed over your clit, pulling out the second wave of an orgasm from you. 

you broke apart from his lips, still just a breadth of a gasp away from them, brushing up against the ghost of a kiss as you pressed your forehead to his, sobbing his name while your body trembled from how hard you were cumming.  

“shit,” he slammed a hand against the wall above your head, shoving himself impossibly further in you, your legs shaking on either side of him. “good fuckin’ girl, squeezing me so goddamn good,” he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading over your breasts, groping at them and pinching at your pebbling nipples. 

you fell limp, letting yourself drown in the unraveling lengths of your climax. 

“gonna cum baby, where d’you want it?” he asked, feeling his lower stomach start to tighten up. “inside, wanna feel all of you,” you whined, kissing all along his shoulder and collarbones, messy and ravenous. 

his face fell to the crook of your neck, biting down on your soft flesh when he came, impaling you once, twice, ending it with one last hard thrust as he came in you, pumping you full of his cum. 

he didn't feel himself soften inside you, but with each of the passing minutes he decided he’d better pull out then or else he’d never leave. you winced from the removal, arms coming around to hold him with a clinginess.

he collapsed on top of you, and you sighed contently, the full weight of him resting on you could’ve honestly sent you into the deepest nap you’d ever have.  

you felt his cock, still hardened on your thigh. with sleepy eyes you looked up at him, lips on his stubbly jaw when you spoke. "you're still hard," you murmured. his fingers drew up and down your spine, and you shivered, arching yourself into him.

"that's okay, it'll go down soon." his throat got tight when he felt you wrap your hand around him once more. "we don't...have to ignore it." you trailed off, bitten lips pressing delicate kisses laced with ulterior motives into his tanned skin.

you wanted joel to use you as many times as he wanted to, a new compulsion flowing rampantly in your veins. now that you had finally gotten a taste of joel, you wanted to gorge yourself on him.

"you sure you can take it?" he asked through a hushed breath of arousal. you nodded, kissing at his lips with need.

he didn't need to be told twice, he repositioned you, letting you fall back onto his pillow with him hovering above you. he rolled you onto your stomach, holding you by your hip to lift you just enough for him to shove his flannel right against your cunt.

his rough palms encased your ass, groping at the thick flesh. he dipped down, spreading your ass and watching as his cum poured out of you. he groaned quietly to himself. you whimpered, turning to look over your shoulder as joel pushed his fingers inside, shoving his cum back into you. your chin dropped, face falling back into his pillow when he pumped his fingers inside you, chuckling darkly to himself at the way your ass squirmed against him.

every little swivel your hips made was met with friction from his flannel on your clit. the hem of it just so happened to be pressed right there. he slapped his cock over on your ass, exhaling loudly at the way it jiggled from his actions.

he aligned himself once more with your little hole, pushing himself in with ease due to the slick left from a mixture of his cum and yours. you whined, hands flying backward, desperate for any solace from his hands in yours. he held your wrists at the small of your back with one hand, the other supporting his weight to lean forward when he pushed himself all the way inside you. you cried out, his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra, your legs trembling beneath him.

he was in you so much deeper this way, stretching you out more than you thought he already could. his hips snapped up against your  ass, fully within you and hitting every single tingly spot inside you along the way.

you were already out of breath, your lungs and brain vacant of anything except for him, for joel. "feel you in my tummy," you hiccuped, tilting your head to look at him through teary eyes. he breathed out a lazy, cocky laugh, moving forward to kiss your forehead, unintentionally shoving his cock in even deeper, feeling a sense of pride at the way you gasped and whimpered at the deep intrusion.

"i know huh baby?" he chuckled in your ear, and you shivered, feeling your face grow warm from how flustered he made you feel. he was so dirty, any filters he once had were gone, the tight grip your cunt had on his cock made him downright ruthless.

he pressed his hands at your lower back, letting yours fall free to cling onto his sheets. he held you down that way, fucking into you with a newfound source of energy, his grey hairs falling over his forehead, sweat glistening over the ripples of muscles along his biceps and abdomen, his whole being going into pounding himself into you.

he wanted you to be so full of him that everyone would know it just by looking at you. the possessiveness he tried to suppress for so long had come out, and he wasn't sure if he could go back to hiding it again. but that wasn't on his mind, not when you were clenching around him, sobbing his name loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

his grunting fell to your ears, it was near pornographic, including the way you bounced with each and every thrust of his, just watching it made his chest get tight.

he needed you closer.

he pulled you back up from under your arms, keeping you flush against his chest while he continued fucking you. you were growing limp, body worn out from the rigor he put you through. but he held onto you, keeping you in his arms. his arm went under your tits, a sneaky hand coming up and groping at one, pinching at the nipple.

he buried his face in your neck, filling your ear with the low growl of his groans. "such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this, but i think you like it, and you know what else?," he drew in a heavy breath, "i think you like being fucked like a little ragdoll," you couldn't answer, he was right, but you could hardly focus on any words, his cock rendering you a teary eyed moaning mess.

"can't even respond when spoken to," he slowed the roll of his hips, hitting you in deep and slow, letting you hear him instead of the loud wet rhythm of your cunt being fucked into. "that's okay, i'll still take care of you," he chuckled, returning back to his rough pace.

"so good, make me feel so good joel," you managed to finally cry out in a series of strewn moans. his fingers trailed themselves down to your clit, rubbing in tight little circles. " i know baby, cum for me, show me how good i make you feel."

you wriggled around in his hold, your third orgasm of the night was thick in heft, a heavy wave of intense stimulation clearing your vision and leaving a white glittering hue instead. you felt joel everywhere, from the way he was buried in your cunt, to the way his hips were clasped over the curve of your ass, fitting into you like a puzzle piece.

the fervent circles being drawn over your clit was the thing that pushed you over, your head falling backward onto his shoulder, his turn to be serenaded by a string of your pretty moans. "good babygirl, did so good for me." he cooed in your ear, pressing a kiss behind it. "thank you," you meekly replied in a breathless voice.

you were the weakest you've ever felt, your poor spent body still being held upright as joel chased down his own orgasm. "gonna let me cum in you again baby? want more of it?" he panted in your ears. "please, want it joel, please,"

he gripped onto your hips, feeling his own stutter, before he pushed in deeply, stilling inside as he came in thick ropes. he finally softened, slowly pulling out of you. you winced again at the loss, feeling suddenly cold and empty. you collapsed on his bed, reaching out for him.

he laid beside you, pulling your leg up and over his waist, running a hand up the expanse of your thigh. your eyes fell shut tiredly, enjoying the comfortable sound of the two of you trying to catch your breaths.

a part of you was worried he was going to break the silence, afraid he'd call the whole thing a mistake, and lecture you on how he isn't the type of man who does relationships. you knew all of that, you just hoped he wouldn't say it and just let you soak in the moment.

almost nervously, his hand came to dance across your cheekbone softly, wanting to memorize the way your skin felt to his. "do you regret that?" he murmured and you opened your eyes, shocked at the question.

you leaned into his hand, curling your own over his. "no, never joel, why would you ask that?"

he sighed, scooting closer to you. "I'm not a good man, sweetheart, i'm giving you a chance to leave." he spoke above an octave of silence. you frowned, shaking your head. "i don't care about anything that you've done in the past or what you'll do in the future. i just...want to be here, with you, in any way you'll let me." you admitted, wishing you could say the one thing you've been harboring for a year, but you knew you needed to keep that to yourself just a little longer.

"if i had a bigger conscious i wouldn't let you," his hands pulled you into the hold of his arm that came over your waist. "lucky for me then that you're not the good man you claim to be." you whispered, the scent of coffee on your breath enveloping his senses, and in that moment, he had a realization.

he thought about how nice, how domestic it would be to wake up and share a cup of coffee with you every morning, before you had to face the day, at least you could share a moment of peace together.

"yeah," a trace of a smile grew over his lips. "you're right. i'm not." he rolled on top of you, cupping your cheeks in his large palms. "you're makin' an unwise choice little girl," a quiet rumble rested on your lips.

your arms came around his shoulders and you sighed a half laugh. "i know. i don't care."

[chipped-chimera]

Aquarium update - I have a Betta again! Got kind of burned last time so I travelled wayyyyy north from where I am to get her, along with some cories. It's been about two weeks since, judging my water changes (do about 25% a week, not because the water needs it but more because any longer and my filter gets gummed up) and she's been doing really well. She's changing rapidly, but she was very juvenile when I got her (like literally only a bit bigger than some of my green neons which max out at 3cm) which I expected, since marble gene. The contrast of a few weeks though is kinda nuts.

Not quite named yet, since honestly I was so burned from last time (RIP fish Karlach 😔) that I've been hesitant to name her or even share anything about her online. Also because I literally have no idea how she's gonna look in a few weeks as she matures.

I was thinking maybe Arita or Imari since her patterning reminds me of Asagi Koi and Imari-Arita Ware ceramics? Leaning towards Arita since it sounds a bit 'sassier' I guess (idk, vibes) and she definitely is that. I'll take suggestions though!

Anyway more fish rambling below -

Honestly I was so hesitant to get her, but I was already putting in replacement Cories after a mystery disease decimated my Corydora population, leaving my admittedly kind-of-fat female Three Lined solo. Whatever contagion was in the tank is either gone or dormant (since a lot of fish disease I know is entirely reliant on how stressed a fish is - they can still be a carrier but completely fine) after basically doing every treatment I had at my disposal. I think it was a mix of parasitic and bacterial, maybe fungal? Hard to target given all my tank tests consistently returned a big fat 0ppm for all the bad shit. My tank is about as clean as it gets - I only change about 25% weekly and that's more to clean sludge out of the filter, it never really needs it. Admittedly some of the deaths I contributed to because I wasn't aware how much my tank PH had changed over the months (test your PH regularly guys), apparently the huge chunks of wood have exhausted all their tannins cause I've gone from acidic to more basic. It seems to be holding about 7.8, apparently related to the Seiryu stone in there. Basically water changes caused the PH to flux to much, contributing to stress for the Cories. Yeah I feel bad but I'm also not blaming myself since a. Literally first tank b. I am learning the fish hobby is really annoying for consistent information. Like literally information that doesn't contradict itself half the time. A lot of that is the reason why I've been slowed down in figuring out what is going wrong and that ultimately has resulted in a lot of loss.

Important part though is everyone seems to be doing fine, and I've learned enough now to maybe recognise stuff a lot faster. One of the Pandas, after my first water change developed a big fungal streak down it's body (I'm guessing it scuffed itself in a panic somewhere) but had that treated easily within about 3 days with just Pimafix. No seriously, they're doing well. Well enough they apparently spawned? Saw the betta striking some mystery thing on the glass. I thought it was a freshwater limpet (they've been in there, just haven't seen them in a while) and realised no, actually an egg. Not opposed to this since I'm pretty close to stocking limit (at least in a regular, unplanted tank) so I'm down for the population control.

Betta really is a little predator though. She's honestly weird for a Betta in that she doesn't show interest in food. At all. She might nibble at a fallen bit but couldn't care less about anything I put on the surface or during feeding time. Been monitoring her weight, and she's definitely not underweight. Guess I have enough random critters in my tank (Planaria, about a million scuds since my last-ditch effort treatment to save a Cory decimated my shrimp population. I lost my favourite orange/red shrimp too 😭) to sustain her? Worry is of course I need to re-establish more shrimp. There are some left but nowhere NEAR what I had before. I've seen her chase a few who appear, she definitely has them on alert but they tend to be too big for her anyway. And too fast. Juveniles though ....

I do have a HUGE amount of hiding places for new, young shrimp (just moss. So much moss) but I think I'll maybe raise them in a netted isolation box until they're big enough that she's no longer a threat maybe? Idk. That or I get technically-not-allowed Cherry Shrimp from someone local, since they tend to be adults. Juveniles are kind of my only option at my local store.

Anyway that's the ramble!

[coyoteprince]

Hi! If I may, this is not about Widderwood, but the way you talked about witchcraft in a recent answer, "Real world witchcraft is literally just moving with intention and cause & effect" and "it helps with being delibreate with my life": seems quite interesting, but would you care to elaborate, if you wish and have time? Or is there a previous post here or somewhere else where you already talked about your view on witch spirituality? Sorry if I bother, obviously you're free to not answer and ignore this message if it's too personal or annoying. Thank you for sharing your art and world!

Yeah I'll try to explain. Unfortunately when people hear magic or witchcraft they of the media fantasy version of witchcraft or whatever when that's not what it is at all. It's just like any religion in that it focuses on cultivating life morals, cause & effect (praying to a God for blessings is similar!), and can be utilized by less than great people for power and control over others.

Witchcraft varies greatly by culture and even the person, but I can only speak from European centric stuff and my own practice. For background, I've followed my own path since I was around 12 with no guidance from others.

Spells work by focusing intention. You want x, so you create a small ritual that helps to focus on the task and what you really want and how to get to that point, like any goal setting. Often rituals are repeated for greater power to achieve a result- just like a habit. Spiritually speaking, the reasoning is often considered that everything has an energy, and this energy can be manipulated, or that there are God(s) at work. Psychology speaking, these rituals simply help you realize what you actually want to work toward and give you the gumption to go for it. For both, it's commonly believed that spells won't work unless you put in the actual, real effort to work toward a goal- and that is part of the magic. It is the act of creation. And failure is just as likely, especially if you don't plan for it or are unrealistic. You can't make someone love you or win 1 mil, but you do have the power to be kind to others and better your finances by education or similar opportunities... and even if you fail anyway, there is always something you learn from it. You just have to be intentional.

I fully believe you don't have to believe in God's or ghosts or anything to do witchcraft. The fact it works to better our lives- even if it really is just in our brains at the end of the day- is enough. And just like how people has historically leaned on a Christian God to get through times of hardship- that's what I use it for. To better myself, to realize what I want to work toward in life, and to make a conscious effort toward it. It isn't a replacement for professional help, but the addition of witchcraft has significantly helped me in my own mental health, continued betterment as a person, and appreciate living.

Tarot cards are similar. They assume fortune telling = fate, which imo is wrong. Some people think theyre demonic, some think theyre "stupid" because of the connection to spirituality, and some people consider them too serious and scary, but like all tools you have to use them right, and by God do they work when you do! Tarot cards are absolutely amazing as prompts. Ask a reasonable question, get a card, and notice what emotions and thoughts come to mind immediately- you have all the answers within you, you just might not be paying attention... and Tarot works as a surrogate third party to reflect and help you pay attention to what you really feel. Witchcraft rituals all work essentially the same way.

There's also more woo-woo centric things like ghosts and fae and such. I personally am on the fence on it all but "believe just in case" lol. I've experienced many paranormal things but also know it could be caused by my autism, trauma, or whatever else. But it isn't hurting me or anyone else.. so it doesn't matter!

This is all a ramble and probably hard to understand if you aren't already very familiar with these kind of eccentric things. I work with a lot of chemistry so I've personally noticed how close witchcraft things are to science and even therapy- and likewise how a lot of past beliefs of magic were actually just yet unexplained science & medicine.

At the end of the day, I know everything may be an illusion from my various ailments and perspective. But that's perfectly okay, because it has done nothing but make me happier, more emotionally strong, and helped me focus to better my life and relationships. It's made me a much better, intelligent person and is the perfect fit for my life, though it may not be for everyone. Our variance, weirdness, and mysteries are the beauty of being alive.

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 8 Matsuribayashi pt. 8

Now, whether or not this sways your heart towards sympathy in the forthcoming events is really something to mull over. Can suffering tragedy at such a young age justify the eventual atrocities one winds up committing in their adulthood? That really depends on you, and your outlook on morality I suppose. Just as a random example, can having an abusive childhood excuse you from ordering the deaths of two thousand or so people?

Probably a smart thing to be doing when you’re not a hundred percent sure if you’re still being hunted for escaping the abuse factory.

Nothing to really do with anything, but how much do you suppose something like the console ports of Higurashi cost to make? Couple million, maybe ten at most (translate into whatever yen amount is appropriate, I used USD)? Obviously you have to pay your voice actors, and the artists for the new art, but it probably isn’t something that breaks the bank right? I know that it’s not exactly a precise tool to use, but according to steamcharts the highest player count for one of these games tops out at around 350 people. Again, not a precise tool because these have probably been available elsewhere for years prior to their steam release (for instance I play them on GOG, except for Hou+ which didn’t release on GOG for reasons I don’t know).

The reason I bring it up is because despite all the new art for some of the scenes, and characters and so on, I can’t help but love when it goes with a relatively low tech option and just zooms in on a characters face. Like the scene where Miyoko is yelling at God in a thunderstorm above. It just pixelates it a bit, and I find that kind of endearing that despite throwing more money at these higher-end ports it still has these small rinkydink workarounds.

Also, and I know I say this a lot, they haven’t quite said who the mysterious voice Miyoko heard was that day. Perhaps they’ll say who it was later on in the chapter, part of me wants to assume it is some aspect of Hanyuu. Even though that doesn’t make a bit of sense considering this scene occurs far away from Hinamizawa.

Another thing I thought about doing just because it amuses me is I’m considering plopping Miyoko’s head onto Arnold Schwarzenegger’s body from Predator.

Yeah, that’s the stuff right there. (The most annoying part is finding pictures for my little shitposts that are actually decent quality, and not 320x200, incidentally I had to get the screenshot myself from a copy of Predator I owned). I don’t know why you people put up with my medium effort sillies.

God’s not done with you yet Miyoko. Although it is remarkable you didn’t get blasted with a bunch of splinters when he struck the tree with lightning. Also, not to keep the plot from moving along, a burning tree does provide some warmth you know? Probably not where you should hide since the people from the orphanage would probably check around the remains of the tree, but you know, temporary solutions.

Also, just a fun amusing fact, when the lightning strike happened here it caused the game to crash. It was pretty funny timing all things considered.

Not to yell at the fictional child, but maybe you should count your blessings kid. You’re out of the rain for the moment, you don’t have to sit in the rain and catch pneumonia. I like the phrase of “it looked like this phone booth had been put there as punishment for doing something bad.” It’s a very amusing line, and it definitely strikes me as the sort of thought a kid would have despite their recent difficulties.

[palms-upturned]

Same anon from before. No, I still truly don’t feel like any of this is enough. I don’t trust myself or my own judgement to make the right decisions on these things and rely on whoever I believe falls into the category of “more right than not” (you would fall into that!) because I just want to not get yelled at. I want other people to be liberated too so I recognize that it’s not about my feelings but to that end I also believe I shouldn’t matter here and as a privileged person just be told (1/2

(2/2) What to do by people who know better than me. I know I’ll never be perfect or do enough so why shouldn’t the better among us just force us into a revolution right now? I’m too trapped by my job to be able to do local organizing. All the protests happen either while I’m at work or are already happening when I didn’t know it. People say to either take time for you or spend all your time on educating yourself and organizing but where does that leave my life? Worthless, I think. I wish someone Would just tell me so. Tell me yes or no; am I living correctly or not? Am I properly dedicating myself to what truly matters or not? I don’t want a revolution that happens after you and I are gone. I want one yesterday. I want one where we actually, ACTUALLY LEGIT force people to change their ways. Like, “sacrificing all your excess clothes and frivolus toys to the efforts” kind of force. I fucking hate living in this grey area where we could be trying our best but be unknowingly commiting evil At any time. I’m sorry, that was a lot. Just…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what that says about me if I wish we just had hard and fast, unflinching RULES about how we should be acting right now and people to enforce it instead of being left to wade through our own flaws and imperfections and internal biases. I wish I could have them surgically removed and make myself a perfect fighter for justice

Well… I don’t really know what to say other than I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough and will never feel like enough. I know that uncertainty is painful and so is living under structures that we didn’t ask to be built. I don’t think that wanting to escape those things says anything particularly bad about you. I think all of us do. But the revolution didn’t come yesterday, and things just are what they are… At some point, you have to be able to make peace with that. Not to the extent of accepting the way things are, but to the extent that you can still see value in your life and in putting in the work to change things. Whatever work you can do.

Knowing whether or not you’re doing the “right thing” can only come from your own convictions. Those will solidify the more you learn and act on them and see the results. That, I think, is how you cope with the uncertainty. You do what is within your power, and you believe in what is within the reasonable scope of your observations. Even if there really was someone who you could rely on to tell you how to live correctly and what truly matters, you would still have to have a reason to personally believe that they were “more right than not.” I know it sucks, I really do. But you have to let go of the fantasy of being able to just give the reins to someone else. You have to see yourself as someone capable of conviction.

And believe me, I know how frustrating it is to deal with the limits. I am also annoyed at protests always happening on weekends when blue collar workers don’t get to have the day off to attend, including me. I’m annoyed at how many events I don’t get to go to because nobody requires masks indoors. I’m endlessly angry about how much time and strength I waste on my full time retail job just to be allowed to live in some degree of dignity when I could be putting that energy toward organizing. I hate how many layers there are to this beast that makes organizing inaccessible to the people who need it most. And I hate the limits of my body sometimes, too. But it is what it is and it won’t get better if we don’t accept it for what it is and work out what to do about it.

Regardless of any “value” that someone could assign your life, you have a right to be here like anyone else. And you are not as powerless as people would like you to think, nor as powerless as you would probably be relieved to think. We have an obligation to do what we can to improve things, and for most of us, there’s a lot more that we can do than we know. But there’s still a lot that we can’t do. And it’s so despair inducing at times like this, but we can’t let that stop us from doing something.

I know you’re probably just venting and I don’t really know what I can say to make any of this easier. I also don’t necessarily think it’s true to say that I’m “more right than not.” But I’ve hit suicidal rock bottom before and I don’t wish that for you. I know it hurts to work toward an ideal world knowing that we likely won’t live to see it if it even comes to exist at all. I know it hurts to know that our lives are dependent on the exploitation of others in ways that we can’t currently entirely avoid. But in the same way, our lives support other lives. And we can strengthen that support so long as we live and try. That’s what gets me through.

[golbrocklovely]

I’m not in the snc fandom by any means and I have no plan to do so but being just a causal fan of them, I have seen the way their fans act towards them, especially Colby. It always leaves a horrible taste in my mouth.

I sincerely wish these guys would start setting more boundaries with their fandom. There are sometimes where I see replies to their tweets or just looking up their users on twitter because I’m a nosy rosey sometimes and the things some of their fans say to them, especially Colby is just horrendous and down right yucky. It seems to be getting worse in my end too. The way some of their fans treat Colby likes he’s stupid, slow or like a child is just so gross. He’s a human being. It’s one thing to make a joke, but it’s another thing to treat him like he was born literally yesterday. It sometimes feels like infantalazation. Like this is a huge problem and I just wish that Colby would put his foot down about it. Hell, when everytime there’s a girl involved in his life everything goes haywire towards him. I just feel so bad for him at this point. if I had fans and they were pulling stuff like this, I wound definitely say something, and start muting/ blocking people if it started getting too much. Maybe Colby hates confrontation which I can totally understand. Maybe he hates drama as well. But if his fans keep getting away with basically being overbearing and weird, they’re never gonna treat him like a human.

I also have a hunch that he might be neurodivergent and has anxiety. I see a lot of myself through him. He does a lot of things I do. But I don’t wanna diagnose him because I personally don’t know him like that. I just hope he has a good head on his shoulders when it comes to this type of stuff. and I also just hope one day some of his fans grow up and stop treating him like he’s a dummy when he’s a very intelligent person. It drives me nuts when people do that to him. He clearly is very smart and very empathetic. A bright soul who deserves so much better. 🩷

this ended up being extremely long so... sorry about that haha

i getchu. i understand not wanting to join this fandom. tbh i only really enjoy the fandom on here and that's about it. insta there barely is a fandom, the tiktok fandom is too young and just makes shit up 90% of the time, and twitter…. is insufferable lol

and i completely agree with you about the treatment of colby. it's a weird mix of both treating him like a sex doll and treating him like a baby, which makes both behaviors all the more gross.

like i'll be honest, i don't love all the decisions he makes, and i have talked about that on here countless times. however, i don't actively tell him on social media how to live his life (aka i don't @ him on twitter when he does something that annoys me like a lot of other fans do). and at the end of the day i accept whatever he wants to do with his life. me complaining on here about some of the questionable ppl he has in his life isn't even half as bad as what i've seen on twitter, especially when it comes to some of the girls he occasionally is seen with.

over the years it's gotten worse, and i'm not sure for what reason. it feels like the fans started out on the right foot. they care about colby and don't want to see him get hurt. and i get that, i feel the same way. but at the same time, he's an adult. and in life you're gonna make some dumb decisions, and be friends with dumb ppl that you shouldn't have been. and that's your choice. and that's your mistake to make.

i think part of it is a lot of fans think they are owed a part of colby's life and having a say in it. maybe bc they've put time, effort, and money into being a fan, maybe it's bc they feel like they are friends with him and thus think they can say shit that a friend would say even tho they are a complete stranger to him. and while i can understand somewhat why someone would feel that way briefly, it doesn't change the fact it's not true. you aren't owed anything just bc you've been here a long time or bc you buy merch. so what. you aren't special in either one of those regards.

and when it comes to colby and his dating life… oh boy, that's where most of the drama lies. again, a lot of it comes from fans not wanting him to date a questionable girl. understandable. i get that protectiveness. however it has become very apparent that NO GIRL is good enough for him. fill in the blank on whatever reason, it doesn't matter. there is not a single girl that exists that everyone in the fandom can agree on. and that just shows that a lot of the concern comes from both jealousy and, if we're being completely honest, misogyny.

certain fans are jealous they will never get a chance to be with him, no matter how many y/n insert fanfics they read. and no girl is good enough bc nine times out of ten the reason is bc of something sexist like she's a slut or a gold digger or isn't pretty enough or is too pretty or isn't as good as other girls.

my favorite phrase, highkey, is when a girl is seen with colby, ppl start hating on her and then when asked why someone doesn't like her they respond with "idk she just gives me a bad vibe." lmao happens like clockwork.

all of this is to say that a lot of fans, while they love colby, don't respect him. they don't trust him to make his own decisions bc in their minds, he can't make the "right" ones. and thus needs to smothered into making the right one. and if he doesn't do that, then he deserves to be bitched at for eternity.

tbh i'm surprised colby tolerates half the fanbase at this point. if the fandom isn't yelling at him for breathing wrong, they're making fun of him. and while it's fine to be playful and banter with him, there's a difference between a one off comment and constantly picking at everything he does down to whether or not he has facial hair. like… why are we talking about his body hair? yall are weird for that one.

if i was colby, i wouldn't have fans anymore. bc i would blocking ppl left right and center. idc that you supported me for a long time, if you're mean to me, you're gone. and i ain't gonna listen to (usually) a child yell at me for fucking a random girl (or maybe not even fucking a random girl). that's why last year i wanted him to go chaos mode. i wanted him to fuck every and any girl that said yes strictly so fans would come to the realization that YOU DON'T CONTROL HIM.

get over it or gtfo. it's really that simple.

and as for whether or not he's neurodivergent, that's obviously something he would have to explore himself. i personally have always thought he might secretly have depression and definitely anxiety since he's talked about that part himself. there's a lot of things he has done in the past that make me think there might be something under the surface and reminds me a lot back when i was in denial of what was going on mentally. and there are times he gets into funks, and you can just see the light drain out of him for a bit. but in the end, that's for him to explore and seek help for if he so chooses and feels the need to. i would hope if he truly did ever feel bad he would ask for help.

he's a very strong person and has such a love for life. i just hope he lives it to the fullest. i truly just want to see him happy.

[grayintogreen]

WIP WEDNESDAY

HELLO AGAIN. I have 6/10 scenes finished for Chapter 25 and holding steady at biweekly updates, so since it's an off-week... Snippet time!

Have some Essek!

-

Ludinus’s clock was exactly on time for the moment and Essek wasn’t certain if that unnerved him more than the alternative annoyed him. Unnerved, however, was his general state of being these days when faced with the Martinet, currently seated at his desk, a quill pen balanced on the edge of a knuckle like a butterfly that didn’t have the sense to fly away.

“The Marchen woman is apoplectic about the Dynasty’s attack on Felderwin.”

Still? That was at least a month ago. “Did she suspect an easier recovery of her asset? The Ashguard garrison is overwhelmed.”

“Indeed. Ikithon’s building an army that he claims is for the war effort, but we know better, don’t we, Essek?”

Essek schooled his expression. That was useful information for the Nein. “He is putting, ah… What is the Empire expression? All of his eggs in one basket, yes?”

Ludinus chuckled, paternally. “Well, he was mangled, humiliated, and his hard work was destroyed. Who can blame him for being distracted? If Miriam were less loyal, perhaps she would turn her anger towards that, rather than Xhorhas, but I’m not in the business of directing ire away from the Dynasty.”

No. Of course not. Essek never asked why Ludinus disdained the Dynasty and the process of consecution and trying to now would likely be spycraft suicide. His disinterest in Ludinus’s personal matters had kept him in confidence for so long- whatever crumbs he was given had to be feasted on lightly while resisting the urge to beg for more.

Still, he felt like this conversation was building to something, so he carefully asked leading questions, tapping his fingers on his knee underneath his mantle. “She scries on her targets frequently, doesn’t she?”

The Martinet’s smile turned predatory. “She does, indeed. She knows they’re in Rosohna, knows that they are responsible for getting the halfling free. She even dropped your name as a possible accomplice.”

Essek regretted never having an anti-scry amulet made and wondered if getting one now would court suspicion. How much had she seen? How much could he spin as espionage? He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. “I would not call myself an accomplice, Martinet. They did a favor for the Bright Queen and the release of the alchemist was what they asked for as a boon. It was transactional.”

He held his breath, waiting for Ludinus to drop something into his lap that was venomous and prone to strike him where it might hurt. Instead, Ludinus flipped the nib of the pen and caught it with surprisingly agile fingers for a man his age. “I would expect nothing less from the Shadowhand.”

He went on, tapping the pen on the parchment on his desk he had yet to write anything upon, leaving drops of ink in strange patterns. “Regardless, his obsession with this has turned his eyes away from me for the time being. Ever since DeRogna’s death, I have felt Marchen’s eye on me.”

“Is that why you refused to approve her promotion to Archmage?” The question was conversational, going back to an older conversation, back when this whole situation was less terrifying for him. Ludinus seemed pleased he remembered that little detail.

“I have no need for another Archmage that does not know their place in the hierarchy, especially not one so entrenched in loyalty to an enemy.”

Essek filed all these details away. It might be enough to take to the Nein, even if it only opened up more questions. He still hadn’t heard anything about Ludinus’s personal goals- the Chantry, those red-robed figures he spoke to often. He had not been offered a seat at the table just yet and he would not be able to back out of this corner he’d painted himself into without the invitation.

Curiosity was a double-aged sword, but Essek knew how to avoid taking the back-end by being an eager learner in the art of political machinations. He saw his opening and slipped into it, a rapier seeking a gap in the armor. “May I ask you a question, Martinet?”

Ludinus looked up at him, canting his head in such a strangely paternal way that if Essek squeezed his eyes shut, he could almost see the shadow of Lord Theylss transposed over him. “Such open-ended questions before teatime, Essek! But you have me curious now. Ask away.”

“If you hate Ikithon so much, then why keep him in the Assembly? He’s half-mad, hobbled and dependent on a system he created that you’ve claimed numerous times is outdated and borderline sycophantic. It would be easy to force him to step down with little political unrest.”

The Martinet considered him and then pushed his chair back to stand, pacing the length of his office in time with the steady tick-tick-tick of his clock. For a moment, Essek thought that he had dived too deeply and would not get an answer- or worse. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as Ludinus crossed behind him and laid on a hand on the back of his chair.

And then he said, “Do you know what the four most terrible words to a politician are, Essek?” When Essek’s silence formed his response, Ludinus’s chuckled, like he’d just made a clever little joke only to himself. “’Don’t they look tired?’ It’s a death knell. Those words would unravel even the mightiest because the second the heralds get a sniff of it, it’s suddenly everywhere. If the public knew of the full extent of Ikithon’s condition, he would not survive it. His career would be in shambles, his Volstrucker disbanded and either executed for treason or sold to whichever members of the Assembly would love an attack dog on their payroll. In a week, they would find him dead with a bottle to his lips. It would be a slow death.”

Essek felt every word as if it was a threat to his own safety. Still he remained, rooted to the spot, as if his mantle was weighted down. He had to fight the urge to shudder as Ludinus leaned in closer, his shadow falling across both him and the desk, backlit by the lamplight.

“But for the same reason a person might keep poison in their own cabinet if they believe an assassin could come calling, so do I keep that sick old man in his seat of power. He is a blunt instrument in my collection- the poison in my cabinet. The ways that he remains useful to me are greater than the inconveniences he causes me. Do you understand?”

There was poetry in every word, but Essek had not survived this long not knowing where to read between the lines to find the meaning. He’s your weapon against your detractors. The shovel you’ll use to bury them.

All Essek said was, “I understand.”

Ludinus remained where he was, his shadow consuming Essek’s like some great beast. It could not have been any longer than a handful of seconds, but it felt like eternity before he patted the back of the chair and stepped back towards his desk. “I’ll ring for tea. Perhaps you would like to stay this time?”

It felt like a test. He swallowed down his fear and nodded. “Yes. I think I will.”

His eyes fell across the desk and he noticed, before the paper was cleared away, that the strange patterns that Ludinus had been tapping out were carefully outlined calligraphy of a single letter.

Specifically, a J.

[glowyjellyfish]

OUAT Rewatch Report Part 5: Lady of the Lake through The Doctor, plus Forget Me Not and The Serpent

1. Emma’s far from my favorite, but her feelings are really doing it for me this time. Seeing her walls go up, and how hard it is for her to adjust to having a mom who cares about her. And seeing her walls come down, too, seeing her vulnerable when she puts so much effort into making herself tough. And I enjoy watching her fumble around not knowing how to handle Fairy Tale Land but also needing to prove she can take care of herself. I don’t think I realized it before, but there is an entire theme of parental dynamics in this arc, isn’t there.

2. Henry’s a manipulative little sneak, isn’t he? He came by it honestly, considering his many relatives.

3. I definitely made a mistake in setting up a viewing order where I get New Robin Hood before I even see Old Robin Hood.

4. I love Will so much. I love the way he talks about himself and his past, and how he has clearly thought everything through very carefully and figured himself out. I’m totally convinced that he had therapy sometimes in Storybrooke. And probably got diagnosed with depression, because that’s what his heartlessness looks like. And I love the way he admits to feeling like a monster and going through dark times, even when he can’t really feel it without his heart.

5. It does sort of bug me that Maleficent is hyped up as super evil and dangerous, but in practice we mainly see her as losing to Regina, her BFF, and vaguely chiding a group that stole from her. And she was a dragon, and there’s been talk of what she did to Aurora, but she just comes off a little weak.

6. rumple is the first person on the show to discuss deaging anybody, which is interesting given future plots and revelations.

7. I love rumple but he is in fact an awfully horrifying person. Like, The Crocodile started out and Milah was callous towards him and Hook was a bully. He comes back with power, planning to murder Hook for taking (and, Rumple thinks, raping and killing) his wife. Milah comes out and tells him she’s alive and admits to lying to escape him, and he still has to be bartered with to stop murdering Hook (which was supposed to be revenge for Milah). It’s understandable that he’s still upset, but then when his ex wife is trying to honestly explain herself, he murders her—CLEARLY projecting his own issues with abandoning Bae. I sympathize with him, of course, knowing that in the present he’s more or less trying to be better, and usually directing his energy in a more productive direction, but like… I don’t think Hook’s wrong for wanting revenge.

8. I’m not a fan of how they chose to make their version of Hook. That man is NOT CAPTAIN HOOK, and I could just call him Killian and convince myself he’s not the real Hook but just some other pirate guy, but honestly the name Killian bugs me even more. But in practice, the character’s perfectly good as his own character. More than anything else, it’s just annoying that they either did minimal research or threw virtually everything out before slapping a couple of Captain Hook traits on a completely new pirate character. Other characters are either super recognizable as the most well-known version of the story, or were cardboard cutouts in the original leaving room for whatever. Idk, it’s fine just irritating.

9. ANYWAY I think from Hook’s perspective, he played the role of a giant bully to discourage Milah’s weak husband from coming after her, and to help her escape her boring life and loveless marriage. And then later, he was trying to shield her from an ex who suddenly turned up powerful and abusive. I don’t know if this was old meta I read or what, but I immediately concluded that he plays parts an awful lot, and am trying to compare this to what I saw in other pirate media (ie mainly Black Sails). I maintain OUAT Hook is a giant weenie compared to most other pirates in media, but I guess the whole point here is that he’s a big softie underneath his exterior, going for revenge because his heart was broken.

10. I love how Ruby automatically protects any and all women without batting an eye. Ladies helping ladies!

11. I forgot just how bad Bae’s abandonment issues should be. Jesus fucking Christ. First abandoned by his mother, then he slowly loses his father to the dark one curse and becomes a social pariah, then his father breaks a promise and abandons him to another entire world. I’ll have to update this litany of tragedy as I go forward and remember more details; I know he is briefly taken in by the Darlings and then goes to Neverland, and he then has a short period of doing Treasure Island with Hook before he figures out this guy’s the reason his mom abandoned him, and then he’s stuck in neverland for a long time before getting to the real world in more or less the present day. And of course he’s then coerced into leaving Emma, and abandons his own son without realizing it. Neal’s gonna have so many issues, I cannot WAIT.

12. I adore OUATW’s Jafar, who I like to call Hot Jafar. They did a wonderful job of giving him motivation that’s so complex and interesting I want it to be the backstory of every Jafar, and making him understandable without making him less ruthless and terrifying.

13. recently on regular ouat, Henry was chilling in Emma’s car, so I’m not sure my timeline even has a fixed point anymore. OUATW could even have started during The Doctor, which features a storm. And the two shows were not designed to be watched like this—maybe with s3. HOWEVER, there continue to be fascinating parallels popping up between the two shows when watching them like this. OUAT had The Crocodile, OUATW had The Serpent. OUATW had an episode about Jafar learning magic and how far he was willing to go, OUAT’s next episode was about Regina learning magic and being pushed to go farther than she wanted to.

14. ugh I love the Will/Ana dynamic so much. It’s so spicy and interesting compared with all regular OUAT relationships!

15. it occurs to me that it’s also just possible that Regina chose to bring Jefferson and Victor along in her curse because she thought they might be useful, and Jefferson maybe was just able to resist the amnesia of the curse because of his portal jumping abilities. She doesn’t seem to be particularly pissed off with either one of them, and she had zero qualms about asking Jefferson to help her. And they WERE both useful to her; aside from keeping an eye on David for her and keeping Henry alive when he had the sleeping curse, Whale was probably very helpful as she tried to raise a small child.

16. Victor literally thought her curse destroyed his world and he was the sole survivor. And found himself the sole survivor of a whole world, living in a community of refugees from another world that all know each other and follow the same rules and logic as each other, while he only knows them from the curse. I think it’s interesting he (apparently) didn’t try to talk to Jefferson or Rumple until after his science failed and he couldn’t get Regina to send him home. Probably he didn’t know Jefferson was there until after he heard about Charming talking to him, and Regina absolutely relied on Whale during the curse and she was still a nice, relatively innocent young woman when he knew her, so it’s not really surprising he thought he might be able to convince her to help him despite leading an angry mob to her like a couple days ago. And of course, he was both intimidated by Rumple and too proud of his own methods to admit to needing magic until he thoroughly failed, and presumably didn’t trust anybody from the magical fantasy world to perform decent surgery to reattach his arm. (…I tried writing so many fanfics about him back in the day and it sounds like I may need to try again) I still think there were some deliberate light Wizard of Oz hints sprinkled into The Doctor. Maybe we were just meant to be misled for this one episode, but I am still convinced that SOMEBODY in the writers’ room wanted to make Victor also be the Wizard of Oz. Not gonna lie, I had an entire theory about that and I am still positive it would have been better than the nonsense Oz plot we got.

I finally came up with a selection of gifs describing each (regular OUAT) episode in s2 so far! Next time I think I might do gifs for all OUATW so far, because I have an absolutely perfect gif for the next episode… but we’ll get there.

(…I want to find a good collection of gifs for Emma, especially something resembling the FACES she makes when confronted with magical nonsense, but haven’t had much luck so far)

[cobaltperun]

Ah I can only talk for myself but I prefer to send asks as anon because I don't wanna seem annoying if I send too many asks....? It doesn't make really sense, there a bunch of factors like generally insecurities and shyness 😢😂

Don't get me wrong, anon asks are absolutely welcome as well, and I speak for myself, but I do believe most fanfic writers will agree, you will not seem annoying no matter how many asks/replies or any other way of feedback you send.

I have never, and will never be annoyed by feedback or interactions, it can be one word, it can be an emoji, a single sentence, or paragraph, and it'll make my day, no matter how old or new the work in question is. And I think I said it before, but I'll say it again, my messages are always open and it doesn't matter if we're mutuals or not, and it doesn't even have to be about my stories. If you have something to say, it's worth hearing, it's as simple as that.

And this isn't specifically toward you, I'm just using this opportunity since you mentioned insecurity and shyness. I said before that this is all a hobby, both for me as a writer and you as a reader, that's one side of things. The other side is that at the same time this is a two-way relationship. No one can expect feedback from readers, just like no one can expect writers to treat this hobby like it's a job, none of it is a given. It is, however, still a cycle. I make a post, you interact with it, you leave a reply, send an ask or a message, motivation rises, I write faster, post quicker, put more effort into it, you get a better story to read. Validation and support create more motivated fanfic writers. Motivated fanfic writers create more stories, and so fandoms thrive.

I've been a fanfic writer for hell of a long time, going from fandom to fandom. Nothing kills fanfic fandoms faster than radio silence. So, if you've read this far, go to your favorite writer's blog, pick a way and tell them something about a story they wrote, or the way they write, or whatever comes to your mind, they will appreciate it.

[pancakefancake]

^me.

"Her stomach sank at the idea of Eris not taking care of himself. Someone needed to make sure he was doing both of those things."

WELL - Starting off right with a punch in the feels 🙃 Wonder who that person should be?? But also - just imagining the first she takes care of him and he just like MELTS instantly because what? softness? never heard of it. I keep having to remind myself that there is still angst to come and I am not ready to be hurt like that 🙃

Again - the IMAGERY 👏🏼

"..is not to leave the estate without an escort."

"And what am I then?" Lucien, bby. As always your witty dialogue is just 😍

"Lucien couldn't even imagine his brother so much as slightly raising his voice at his beloved mate." I AM SOFT. Ugh, soft Eris is so top tier.

"Eris said you loved horses."

"Because they do." 'BECAUSE THEY DO." I feel attacked. the actual swoon. Lucien playing matchmaker brings me so much stinkin joy - the sibling vibes.

"Eris frowned, not at her, but at the idea that she could ever see herself as such a burden."

Literally this entire exchange. It's perfect. It's witty and nuanced and alive. perfection. and "if his mate was annoyed with his brother, then he would choose her side." I love literally every single characterization that you give him. the devotion. the commitment. the partnership. the solidarity. LIVING FOR IT.

"little witch" need I say anything more? The way this nickname has me feeling all sorts of things is RIDICULOUS. I love love love them just getting the chance to chat and banter and be adorable. "but coming from him, it only felt sweet." Lil witch is FOND.

The way he remember everything she says?? cannot with you.

Pretty sure I pointed this out before with the hounds, but why is Eris and a sharp whistle so hot?? Why??

👏🏼the👏🏼sweetness👏🏼the👏🏼teasing👏🏼the👏🏼slow👏🏼burn👏🏼

"She noted how thick and strong the muscles were there." MA'AM.

UGH THE WAY HE ENCOURAGES HER TO PARTICIPATE AND SPEAK UP. I CANNOT.

the music 👌🏼

"Make sure to keep that kindness in your eyes." THE PARTNERSHIP. THE AFFECTION. SHE SEES HIM AND I AM NOT OKAY. Literally this entire thing. I love them interacting so fucking much. and the wit as always. incredible.

"I can destroy it even without your efforts."

"Then by all means..." 😉

The sass. but then the POWER. High Lord Eris, ladies and gentleman. I love him, your honor.

and the MORE POWER cause lil witch is a badass all on her own too. God, the two of them together are going to be unstoppable (until you write whatever devious plot you have in store for us.)

And all the touching?? the hand holding?? I am unwell. I need more, please.

"Without realizing what she was doing, she stepped forwared to brush some stray hair off his face and behind his ear." MA'AM. MA'AM. MA'AM. I'm fine. I'm totally fine. I was so totally prepared to feel this soft this early in the morning after getting basically no sleep at all.

"Smirked." "Pinched." "I will not forgive him for what he did to you. You should have given him your wrath." Okay - literally, excuse me. The adorableness and then straight into that absolute masterpiece of a sentence. The DEVOTION. The SUPPORT. Ugh. Eris is a ✨partner✨

The love he has for his court makes me want to weep. SJM just needs to let you write him from now on. I will accept no other characterizations.

Eris. that's it. that's the post. Eris. Eris verbalizing his gratitude. Eris being honest and vulnerable. Eris being THE high lord and top tier mate that he is. And literally anytime you put shit in italics it GETS me. "That" UGH You give him such depth and realism. He's gorgeous and wonderful and powerful and has so much potential but he's also so deeply flawed and the characterization of how much of his trauma he has internalized and turned towards himself and this clear display of envy is heartbreaking and breathtaking at the same time. I LOVE IT SO FUCKING MUCH.

"Eris couldn't stop his beaming from her words." Excuse me - a smiling Eris? I cannot.

"You will come with me? Because what did any of this matter if she didn't. Eris was starting to realize he couldn't do any of it without her."

Eris and his casual display of power has me weak.

"But she recognized Eris' scent and warmth immediately, stopping her from startling" uhm - THIS has me weak. I just - MA'AM.

"LITTLE WITCH"

"Eris whispered in her ear. 'Go back to sleep.'" Literally everything from this point forward has me in a goddamn chokehold. I am unwell. I want THIS. You are amazing and incredible and absolute blessing to this hellsite.

Gorgeous storytelling. Absolutely gorgeous. 1000/10 would recommend. I ❤️ you and I hope you're have a good week!

chapter xix – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,700+

masterlist

After the meeting of the High Lords, Y/N didn’t see Eris for quite some time. He was bogged down with his duties. And Y/N could only assume he was barely eating or sleeping with the amount of work he was dealing with. Her stomach sank at the idea of Eris not taking care of himself. Someone needed to make sure he was doing both of those things. 

However, Y/N’s usual schedule of breakfast, training, and library continued. 

But on this morning, Lucien came to her after training. 

“Would you like to go riding with me?” He asked as Y/N drank water. 

The Weapons Master had already exited the training grounds, leaving her exhausted and alone. Well, not really alone. For she had two of the smoke hounds as her guards and company still.

They now eyed Lucien wearily, not appreciating how close he was getting to their master's mate. 

But Y/N’s eyes beamed with the question. “Really?” 

Lucien tried not to tease her for being so excited. In actuality, he felt guilty for such a simple thing clearly bringing her such joy. If he had known that, he would’ve asked long ago. 

He studied her current state. “Yes, really. Perhaps you would like to change before doing so?”

Y/N looked down at herself. She was covered in mud and dirt. And what couldn’t be seen, but surely smelt, was the sweat she’d released from all her training. There was even a few cuts and scrapes across her hands and arms from little nicks she’d received while sparring. 

“Yes, perhaps I should clean myself up first…” Y/N mumbled as her face got hot with embarrassment. 

Half an hour later, Y/N appeared from her bedchambers freshly bathed. Her hair was still wet, but braided. And she wore a riding outfit that Lucien was sure the handmaidens had helped her pick out. 

“S-Sorry to keep you waiting,” Y/N quickly muttered, only able to look at the ground as she shut her bedchamber door behind her. 

“It wasn’t long at all,” Lucien tried to tell her. 

They hurried to the stables, which Y/N had no complaint about.

Two horses were already saddled and waiting for them when they reached the royal barn. A stableboy had both reigns in his hands. 

“What’s this?” Lucien asked, pointing to a bow and quiver of arrows strapped to one of the saddles. 

The stableboy seemed embarrassed and wouldn't look Lucien in the eye when he answered. “The High Lord demanded that Lady Y/N never go on horseback without at least two weapons on her saddle. I am just following orders, my lord.” 

Y/N smirked and stepped toward the horse that was now very obviously hers. It was a stark white gelding, covered in muscles, but held a kindness in his eyes as he greeted Y/N. 

“What’s his name?” Y/N asked the stableboy. 

“Aengus, my lady.” 

“Aengus,” Y/N muttered to the horse with a smile as she softly stroked his face. 

The stableboy cleared his throat awkwardly. “The High Lord also stated that Lady Y/N is not to leave the estate without an escort.” 

“And what am I then?” Lucien snapped. 

Y/N chuckled as she easily lifted into the saddle. “Lucien, don’t start.” Then she turned to the stableboy. “That is fine. But may they remain behind us?”

The stableboy looked relieved at having her support. “Yes, Lady Y/N. Only five will be joining you. They will meet you at the gates.” 

“And what is your name?” Y/N asked sweetly. 

“Cian, Lady Y/N.”

“Thank you, Cian. We will be seeing much more of each other now. Perhaps I can help you brush the horses after we return.” 

He smiled and bowed his head. “Of course, Lady Y/N.” 

She leaned down to stroke Aengus’ neck. “Ready for some fun?” She whispered. 

The white gelding neighed happily and stomped his feet, proving just how ready he was. 

Y/N turned to Lucien, “They will learn quickly that they need to keep up.”

And then she whistled, signaling Aengus to make his escape. The horse quickly jolted into a gallop out of the gates.

It only took Lucien a second or two to follow, but even that made him fall far behind. 

He hoped Eris didn’t hear about this little stunt, because it would be him that he reprimanded. Cauldron knew Eris would never scold Y/N for anything. Lucien couldn’t even imagine his brother so much as slightly raising his voice at his beloved mate. 

——

Hayley looked to the right to see one of their Autumn guards 50 yards or so off to the side of them. A guard was placed the same distance in all directions of them, putting her and Lucien in their perimeter of safety. If anyone sought to hurt them, they’d have to go through one of the guards before ever reaching them. 

Y/N and Lucien slowed their horses to a brisk walk. 

“How did you know I would want to go on a ride?” She asked. 

Lucien smirked. “Eris said you love horses.” 

“I said that to him once, in passing, when he was still but a stranger.” Y/N shook her head. “Yet he remembers all my words as if they hold such weight.” 

“Because they do,” Lucien countered. 

Y/N ignored him. 

“You know, if you let him get to know you more, he could remember more than just the things you say in passing…”

Y/N’s head whipped around to glare him. “Really? You of all people want to make such comments to me? You flee from your mate every chance you get.” 

“That is not fair and you know it, Y/N. I tried with Elaine more times than I can count – far before you ever joined our ranks, might I add. She wants nothing with me.” 

“And perhaps that is her right,” Y/N growled. 

Lucien cocked an eyebrow. “That wasn’t your tune when you were unaware of having your own mate…” 

Y/N halted her horse to glare into his eyes. 

And he couldn’t help but feel guilty when she did it. 

“Stay out of it, Lucien.” She grumbled before whistling, signaling Aengus into a gallop back to the Forest House. 

Their fun had been ruined, all thanks to Lucien.

The guards quickly followed after her, not bothering to make sure Lucien was with them. But he already knew they weren’t there for him anyway. 

——

Y/N cantered through the gates of the estate and up to the Forest House to find that Eris was saddling his own horse.

And there were nearly thirty sentries already mounted and waiting for their High Lord. 

Eris immediately turned when she halted Aengus just a few yards from him. 

“Where are you off to?” Y/N asked through heavy breaths. She’d pushed Aengus to his highest speed as she’d made her escape from Lucien. 

“Visiting the surrounding villages,” Eris answered. 

Then Y/N’s guards caught up. The High Lord glared at them, noting how they let his mate get away from them. It was obvious that would be discussed when Y/N was out of earshot. 

“May I come?” Y/N blurted out before she could stop herself. 

Eris blinked, evidently taken aback by her request. 

“I promise I will keep to myself,” she added quickly, as if her very presence would be a burden to him. 

Eris frowned, not at her, but at the idea that she could ever see herself as such a burden. “That will not be necessary. You may join me, if that really is your wish. Though I worry the day will bore you…” 

Y/N beamed at his admission. “Oh, I would never find it boring! I have been wanting to see the villages of Autumn. I have read so much about them!” 

Eris tilted his head. “Read?”

But before she could answer or mentally scold herself for saying too much, Lucien came galloping over to them. 

“You are supposed to stay with her,” Eris growled. 

“You try keeping up with her,” his youngest brother shot back with exasperation. “Cauldron, she rides like the wind.” 

But Y/N ignored him, acting as if he weren't even there. And of course Eris caught it.

He ignored his youngest brother as he mounted. “We must leave now to make it back before dark.” 

Lucien glanced back and forth between his brother and Y/N. “She’s going with you?” 

“Yes,” Eris answered with boredom in his tone. “And you are staying here.” 

If his mate was annoyed with his brother, then he would choose her side.

Lucien scoffed. But rode back towards the royal stables. Clearly he didn’t wish to accompany them that badly, for he didn’t even put up a fight. 

“Is this some trick?” Eris asked Y/N quietly, so no one else could hear. “Do you intend to make your escape?

Y/N smiled and leaned toward him. “Guess you will have to wait and see.” 

—

The Forest House was now just a small structure in the distance behind them. Y/N watched it get smaller and smaller before turning back to Eris. 

He wouldn’t leave her side since they left the estate, choosing to ride right alongside her. 

“May I ask perhaps a silly question?” She asked. 

Eris nodded. 

“Why do we not just…winnow to the village?” 

He smirked at her. “It is a fair question. But there are many who reside between the Forest House and Falanaird. I wish to see how even the smallest homes are fairing.” 

Then his smirk grew to a full smile that was almost mischievous. “Besides, the village would be in a panic if their new High Lord appeared before them out of nowhere. I thought it would be better to give them a fair warning of my arrival. By the time we are a few miles out, someone will have alerted them of my presence.” 

Y/N grinned at him. “We are going to Falanaird. I have heard it is quite beautiful…”

Eris narrowed his eyes. “How do you know of Falanaird, little witch?”  

Y/N felt her face heat at his pet name for her. If anyone else used it, she was sure it would irritate her. But coming from him, it only felt sweet. 

But she remained quiet. 

Eris persisted. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your reading you mentioned, would it?”

“I have been reading about the histories of Autumn Court,” Y/N finally admitted quietly. “After training, I go to one of the libraries and read.” 

“What for?” Eris asked.

Y/N laughed. “To learn about your home, of course. Why else?” 

Before Eris could fully let that settle in, she sat up straighter in her saddle and pointed in the distance. “Look!” When he followed her gaze, she was pointing to two small fae children who were standing at the gate of their little cottage, staring at the High Lord’s traveling company with mesmerized expressions

When Eris locked eyes with them, they gasped in fear and ducked behind the fence. 

“They are only little ones,” Y/N scolded when she saw that Eris had a dark look. “There’s no need to intimidate them.” 

Eris blinked, realizing it was a habit that had been ingrained in him for centuries to intimidate any and all who looked upon him. 

But he knew Y/N was right. What good would it be, having children fear him? 

The High Lord let out a sharp whistle, and the entire company came to a halt. 

He jumped off his horse and moved to a small wagon that had been trailing in the back. His reached into a basket. When his hand reappeared, Y/N realized he had grabbed two cookies from what she now realized was a wagon full of food. 

Eris walked to the edge of the fence where the two young ones were hiding on the other side. 

They slowly peaked over it when they heard his approach. 

“No need to fear,” Y/N heard Eris mutter to them. “We are only passing through.” 

With slow hands, each of them reached out to take his offering. And their eyes lit up when they realized what he was handing them. 

They screeched, “Thank you!” And then ran off in a fit of giggles, surely to eat their cookies before their parents could find out and reprimand them. 

Eris then returned to his horse as if nothing happened. And the company continued without questioning or even looking quizzically at their High Lord. 

But Y/N wasn’t going to let it go unnoticed. “I like when you let others see your kindness, Eris.” 

He refused to look at her as he responded with, “I only did it because you went out of your way to guilt me…”

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. Of course.”

—

They finally reached Falanaird about an hour later. 

Someone had clearly done as Eris suspected, and warned the entire city of their High Lord’s surprise visit. 

Y/N saw the tension fill Eris’ entire posture as everyone stared. He couldn’t sit any straighter in his saddle. She could see his internal struggle of trying to figure if he should be stern and cold as their leader or break the cycle and lead with kindness and integrity. 

They stopped to dismount. 

“Hold your arm out,” Y/N whispered to him hurriedly. 

He looked at her with confusion. 

“They are scared of you,” she hissed. “Offer me your arm. Trust me.”

To her surprise, Eris did as she said. Like a gentleman, his left arm was held out and Y/N gently placed her hand on his bicep. She noted how thick and strong the muscles were there. 

A red-brown haired male came to greet them. 

“Lord Callum,” Eris greeted formally. 

Callum bowed his head deeply. “To what do we owe the pleasure, High Lord?”

“I am surveying the cities of Autumn Court. Much has been ignored these past centuries. I plan to remedy that with a tour of my court.” 

Callum didn’t hide his surprise at such a gesture. Then his gaze shifted briefly to Y/N. “I see you have graced us with the heroin that is your mate.” Then he bowed at her and greeted her with, "Lady Y/N."

Y/N gave him a shy but warm smile. But she promised Eris she would stay quiet and she was not at all versed in political conversations, especially ones at a royal level. 

“Y/N was rather excited to hear we were visiting Falanaird,” Eris answered. Then he looked down at her with an encouraging look. “Weren’t you?” 

Y/N nervously cleared her throat before saying, “Yes! I heard Falanaird is responsible for the best harvests in all of Prythian. I was excited to see the city for myself.” 

Callum seemed to straighten with pride as such a compliment. “You honor us, Lady Y/N.” 

“Let us discuss the needs of the city, Lord Callum.” Eris commanded. 

Callum bowed his head and gestured for them to walk into the city. 

“Make sure to keep that kindness in your eyes,” Y/N whispered to Eris when everyone else around them was distracted. 

Eris’ face immediately softened with her instruction. But he kept Y/N on his arm as they were guided through the city. 

Callum gave Eris detailed updates on various businesses and citizens of Falanaird. Eris rarely interrupted and when he did, it was to ask for more details on certain matters. 

“And how are the crops fairing this season? I know with the last, there was some issues that my father had little patience for.” 

“Aye,” Callum agreed darkly. “The eggplants and carrots are suffering. The creek used to direct water to the beds has been misdirected and we have been unable to fix it permanently.” 

Eris frowned but nodded.

“What is blocking the creek?” Y/N asked suddenly. 

“A giant pine tree, Lady Y/N. It then flows into a river that we have built an irrigation system for those specific crops.” 

Y/N looked to Eris before continuing. He seemed both amused and curious as to where she was going with her question. 

“Could you take us to it?” She continued shyly. 

“The ground is muddy and no place for a lady,” Callum tried to warn her. 

Y/N smirked before teasing him with, “Worried about getting mud on your nice clothing, Lord Callum? I will survive.”

They hiked through a nearby forest to get to the creek Callum referenced. Eris moved Y/N’s hand from the crook of his arm and laced their fingers instead to help her through the hills and mud. She knew he would never let her fall or so much as trip. 

“We have tried to use fire wielders to incinerate it, but the wood is too moist,” Callum explained. 

“I guess it is a good thing your High Lord is here then?” Y/N answered with a smile. Then she turned to Eris. “If I remove the water, can you set the fallen tree alight?” 

Eris nearly scoffed at the question. “I can destroy it even without your efforts.”

Y/N laughed. “Then by all means…” 

With the wave of his hand, Eris set the tree into flames. Even from their distance, Y/N could feel the warmth of it. 

Through his magic, the tree was nothing but ash in just a few seconds. 

However, the creek was still too low to move the water where it needed to go. 

Y/N stepped forward quietly and then kneeled. She looked at the water as if she were about to have a conversation with it. 

Slowly, she started chanting in a whisper. It was once again a language Eris did not know or understand.

But the water started rippling. He heard crashing of water in the distance, and a mini-monsoon of waves came rushing from the creek’s source, filling it up to the brim. 

Callum looked on in awe. Some of their escorts even let out quiet gasps.

Y/N looked up at the sky. 

Everyone stood behind her, but Eris was at her side. So only he saw when her eyes glazed over in white, like they had on the night they’d killed Beron. 

She chanted again. It seemed to echo through the forest. Like nature was chanting back. 

Thunder cracked over them. 

And then the next second, rain started pouring. 

Callum smiled up as the storm soaked him. 

Y/N turned to him. “Hopefully that does it.”

“Thank you, Lady Y/N. You do not know the miracle you have bestowed upon us.” 

Then he watched on as Eris immediately removed his cloak to cover Y/N’s head and protect her from the rain. 

“Follow me,” Callum said. “There is an inn where you can seek shelter.” 

Eris grabbed her hand again, hurrying them to follow Callum. 

But when they reached an inn at the edge of the forest, the two of them were already soaked. 

Y/N giggled from the ridiculousness, especially when she looked up at Eris to find how irritated he seemed about being wet. 

Without realizing what she was doing, she stepped forward to brush some stray hair off his face and behind his ear. 

“Shall we have a drink?” She asked his sweetly. 

And just like that, Eris’ irritation disappeared and he smiled down at his mate. 

He nodded and nudged his head at the barstools in the tavern that was the bottom floor of the inn. 

His sentries were close on their heels, eyeing the patrons who had already been in the tavern upon their arrival. 

“Keep your distance,” Eris commanded. “I do not need you breathing down my neck.” 

They did as he said, grabbing tables and taking standing posts far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop on their High Lord’s conversation. 

The bartender clearly recognizes Eris, but didn't let it stop his gruff and abrupt attitude when he asked them what they wanted to drink. 

He slammed two giant mugs of ale in front of them, and then left them alone. 

“I see you have more clever tricks up your sleeve, little witch.” 

Y/N frowned a bit. “If I am being honest, they come as a surprise to me, as well.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Ever since that day you found me in the woods…something new has come to the surface. Something…powerful.” Her brow furrowed as her eyes glazed over and she remembered her last days in Night Court. “I almost killed Azriel when we were sparring. I summoned a lightning strike and it almost hit him.” 

Eris smirked. “It would have been a cause for celebration.” 

Y/N pinched his arm. “That is not funny!” 

But Eris’ amusement disappeared as he said, “I will not forgive him for what he did to you. You should have given him your wrath.” 

Y/N stared down into her ale. “The wind said you threatened him when you found out he forgot about me. I guess…I guess it makes sense now that I know our…umm…connection.” 

Eris watched her a moment before he answered. “Well, he would be dead if I did not care about how upset it would make you.” 

Y/N’s face got hot at his confession. So she distracted herself by looking around at the tavern. It was cozy and the light was colored in oranges and reds, only being lit by a hundred candles and two roaring fireplaces. 

“What are your thoughts on Falanaird?” Eris asked after a moment.

“It is beautiful,” Y/N answered immediately. 

“It is no Velaris,” he pointed out. Then a tiny bit of hope sparked in his eyes as he locked gazes with her and added, “But perhaps one day it could be.” 

“Or perhaps…” she replied slowly, “it will be better.”

Eris looked out the window as the rain pelted the glass harshly. “How long did you make it rain for?”

Y/N shrugged and looked a bit embarrassed. “I have not a clue.” 

He laughed. “We could be here all night.” 

“Good thing we’re already at an inn.”

Both their minds went to the scandalous implication of what she may have meant. 

But then Eris remembered what Feyre had once shared with him, what Y/N had confessed to her about her past lovers. And he couldn’t stop the darkness from taking over his face. His grip tightened dangerously on his ale. 

Unfortunately, Y/N interpreted Eris’ sudden shift as his disinterest in the idea of ever sharing a room with her at an inn. 

“Why have you been researching Autumn Court in the libraries?” 

“Library,” she corrected. “Singular.” 

He narrowed his gaze. “You know what I mean. Stop evading my question.” 

Y/N sighed. “I live here now, do I not? I figured I should learn about its history.”

“And you did the same for the Night Court when you lived there?” 

She opened and closed her mouth. “Well…umm n-no, actually.”

Eris looked out the windows again. “Thank you…for your help today, Y/N.” 

“You’re the one who burnt down that giant tree as if it were nothing.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he quickly told her. 

Y/N swallowed, sensing that he was going to say something that would make her heart skip a beat. 

“I find it…difficult deciding who I am supposed to be as High Lord of this court. I do not want to be my father, that I am sure of. But after centuries of wearing a mask…it’s harder to take it off than I ever could have imagined.”

She nodded. 

Eris stared at her a moment before finally confessing, “I find it easier with you at my side. That is what I am thanking you for.” 

Y/N reached for his hand, softly covering it. “Kindness is not a weakness. Just like cruelness does not equate to strength.” 

“Even Rhysand wears a mask to control his subordinates,” Eris argued. “I have seen his charades at the Court of Nightmares.” 

Y/N watched him with confusion. “But why compare yourself to him?” 

“You have seen the headway he’s made as High Lord. His true court is made up of dreamers, not high-borns given power by birthright alone. He has assured female Illyrians have the same opportunities to train as males, and tried his hardest to put a stop to wing clipping. The citizens of Velaris do not fear him, they respect him. How am I not to compare myself?” 

“That is his legacy, not yours.” She urged. “You have only been High Lord for a month, Eris. Give yourself time. You have plenty of it.”  

But Eris said nothing in return, only got lost in his internal battle of self loathing and unrealistic expectations he has put on himself. 

Y/N leaned forward. “Do you know why I insisted that Callum shows us the empty creek? Because I knew you could fix it. And what your people need to see is that you care – about them, about their cities. They need to see that you do not believe you are above their troubles.”

She leaned back. “So you go to village after village in Autumn Court, and you show them that you care.” 

Eris could stop his beaming from her words. “You will come with me?”

Because what did any of this matter if she didn’t?

Eris was starting to realize he couldn’t do any of it without her. 

“And when it is safe for you to leave?”

Y/N frowned at such a subject being brought up. 

She nodded toward the windows. “It has stopped raining.” 

One of his sentries approached. “High Lord, we should start our journey back to the Forest House before it gets too late.” 

Eris reached into his pocket for coins to pay the bartender. 

“Don’ botha,” the bartender spat his his thick accent. “It’s on the ‘ouse.” Then his eyes shifted between the two of them as he dried a glass. “For riddin’ us o’ that favver o’ yours. The both o’ yer.”

When they got outside, someone had already brought their horses for them. 

Y/N tried to return Eris’ cloak to him, quietly handing it to him. The thick fabric was damp for their attempt at shielding her from the rain.

Eris took it, lightly blew on it, and handed it right back to her. 

Y/N eyes widened in surprise when she found that it was completely dry and also warm like it had been sitting by a fire for hours. 

“Keep it,” he instructed firmly. “The sun is setting within the hour.”  

—

They were only 20 or so minutes from the Forest House when Eris saw Y/N’s head bob from falling asleep. 

Her horse, Aengus, kept moving closer and closer to Eris, as if he was worried for his rider and was making sure Eris would be able to catch Y/N if she fell off. 

She was in an exhausted and delirious daze. She could hear the conversations around her. But they felt unreal, like she was in a dream or sleepwalking. 

“Should we move her to the wagon to sleep, High Lord?” One of the guards asked quietly, as if he feared waking her. 

“That won’t be necessary.”

Then Y/N, half asleep, felt a tug on the right side of her saddle. A large mass mounted her horse and pulled themselves behind her in the saddle.

But she recognized Eris’ scent and warmth immediately, stopping her from startling and fully waking up. 

“You were falling asleep in your saddle, little witch. And at risk of falling right off your horse,” Eris whispered in her ear. “Go back to sleep.” 

His arms reached around her, taking her reigns and also caging in her body protectively. 

And she did just that, leaning back against her mate and falling into a deep sleep now that she knew she would be safe from falling off her horse. 

What she didn’t think about was that Eris could have easily winnowed both of them home. She would never put together that her mate finds any way to extend their time together – even if it existed as her falling asleep against his strong chest and he rode them home safely. 

Y/N barely stirred when they returned to the Forest House and Eris gently pulled her from the saddle, landing on the ground with her in his arms. 

His footsteps echoed down the halls.

“Cauldron, what happened?” She recognized Leonora’s worried voice in her sleep. 

“She is only sleeping, mother.”

“The poor thing must be exhausted. Waking up at the crack of dawn to train herself nearly to the point of collapsing. Only for you to force her on a trip to Falanaird afterward.”

Eris sighed. “She insisted. I am going right to the Weapons Master after putting her to bed to tell him their lessons are canceled tomorrow. She needs rest.” 

“Perhaps you should take the day, too.” Leonora urged. “Together.”

--------

Please please please please please please let me know what you think! Be like @pancakefancake

[passingdaysthings]

02.16.2023- Ending Our “Friendship”

A letter to Taylor, 

I think there are some things I need to get off my chest, and I think this would be the best for whatever we are and for myself. These things have been weighing on my mind, and it makes things really hard for me.  Overall, I don’t really feel like I am your friend, and I am more of a replacement/stepping stone for you to get to Victoria. It always seems like you would much rather spend time with her than me, and you only spend time with me because she is busy. Personally, I don’t mind if you want to spend time with Victoria, but it just puts me in a very awkward and uncomfortable situation when you always talk about her given our relationship. 

Let me give you some examples: 

1. When we started talking you stated that you missed talking to Victoria because you used to talk to her all time, and I didn’t really care much before. Our relationship was just a normal one between friends, and I didn’t care much every time you brought it up. It was still awkward though because I really thought you were trying to get with her, and I supported it enough. It changed more when you’re attitude towards me and our relationship changed. It’s also awkward when you express some kind of bad opinion about Victoria, like when you called her a whore, and I defended her. 

2. Victoria was in Pensacola sometime for the holidays, and you told me I should have gone up there to see her since an 8 hour drive wasn’t that bad. I told you no because that’s just out of the way, but you said we must be different people because you really cherish the friends you have (since you didn’t have many) and you would make the 8 hour drive to see her. THAT’S FUNNY. You cherish friends? I was in Dallas for 6 days for a volleyball tournament (4 hours from you), and you said it was too much effort to drive that far to see me. I really questioned my status as your friend when I heard you say that. 

3. We used to talk on the phone pretty often, and it was always awkward when you would bring up Victoria as the love of your life or how much you want to meet her irl and spend time with her. You should just talk to her about that if you want to spend all that time with her. Why are you on the phone with me? But like.. you also think Victoria has 1. “too many men”, 2. emotionless, 3. Is into children (Keikoa), and 4. not worth your efforts. Like what? Make it make sense, bro. How do I respond when you say those things about my best friend, but also, you want to be one of her men? 

4. You wanted to buy her flowers. This was awkward because I was like.. damn, I put all this effort into being a support/good friend, but you can’t even say nice things to me here and there, but you wanna get Victoria flowers? This just made me feel like our friendship and everything was just a stepping stone for you to get to Victoria after she stopped talking to you as often.

5. You asked her to be your Valentine, this is just another example of you using me as a stepping stone. Ask her to be your Valentines. Don’t bring me into it. 

6. I asked you to watch dramas after you said you were gonna be lonely, but you said no because you had to be free in case Victoria wanted to game. COOL. I’m just gonna let you be free for the rest or how ever long our friendship last so don’t expect invites from me anymore.

Those are more of the major things, but there were little things here and there too, but those are all smaller things that annoy me. 

This is a random thing you did that really hurt me: 

One time after playing valo, I was already not feeling well from Valo, but I decided to watch dramas with you because I wanted to watch. Before we even started, you spent 10 minutes talking about how bad at valo I was, how much you hated playing with me, and how annoying it was to spectate me when I was alive. I was shocked, I didn’t know what to do or really say so I just laid quietly crying, watched one episode, and then I went to bed. I just kind of pushed it off, but it always comes up here and there when we play and gives me anxiety. That’s why I don’t really ever ask for your buy or gun, and I usually avoid siting with you. 

This is just something I will always question: 

Why me? Like.. Why did you suddenly change our relationship dynamic? I thought we were cool being best friends, but then you suddenly started hitting on me and calling me babe. This was like 2 weeks after saying you cared about me in a platonic way. I am partially to blame for this too because I kind of just went with it. I didn’t really think too much of the time we spent together and talking, and I was comfortable with it. I didn’t really start thinking deeply about those thing until people around me questioned our relationship, and maybe it doesn’t mean much to you, but it means something to me. I thought really hard about everything, and I felt really guilty about having feelings for you because we were friends. I finally decided it was the best to just tell you honestly, but your response was also something I just pushed aside. I am also to blame though because I continued sending pictures after I said it wasn’t right. I always think about the pictures too, but I am the one that took them and sent them. No one forced me LOL. That has nothing to do with you. I am not sure what you think of me, but I have only ever sent those kinds of pictures to you and done those kinds of things with you on the phone. I didn’t even do that with my ex. I know you don’t think much about it because that is just how you are so I am just gonna stop. Maybe, I will find out one day why you did those things, and I can finally be at peace. I would even be okay if you told me you did it because you were bored or you were playing with my feelings. Literally, anything, but “I don’t know” which is what you said when I asked.   

Aside from all that, I really do appreciate you and our more normal friendship moments. 

1. I really think that I would have had a much harder time my first quarter of grad school if you weren’t there calling me randomly to give me a break or watch dramas with me when I had the time. 

2. I appreciate it when you tell me good luck at my volleyball games. 

3. I like that you watch dramas and anime with me. 

4. You are good at impersonations, and I actually really enjoy them. 

Here we are, I think that’s the end of my major thoughts. I’ve decided that I need to distance myself from you for my mental health, and it’s sad to say, but we may never go back to how we were when we first got close. I really really miss those times when things were simple, and I didn’t have to worry about much and before all the confusion. It’s not like I will stop being your friend, but I’m just gonna scale back to being the friend I was before all of this. I won’t talk to you as much, I’ll stop going to streams, I won’t ask to watch dramas or anime together, and I will stop cheering for you during games. I don’t usually cheer often, but I did it because I know it makes you feel good so I did. Tracy even thinks I babysit you too much. 

I will always love you as my best friend, and I won’t ever tell you any of these things unless you come and ask me directly. 

-P 

[vamossainz55]

grumpy reader and sunshine mick pls <33

a/n: this is long overdue so i am so sorry anon - but i rlly enjoyed writing this. micks always a sunshine and so fluffy to write it makes my heart warm. i hope you do end up seeing this. it's a really quick 1k drabble so would recommend if youre looking for some short fluff ❤️.

ps. i have a good amount of mick requests - i cannot promise i will do all but i am planning to release a few more ! xx

enjoy!

“Come on baby,” There’s a mix of desperation in Mick’s tone, dragging his words as his lips pull into a pout. His hand goes to rest on your leg, thumb gently tapping at your knee before he’s coming closer to you. His face comes into your view, and despite you trying to look away Mick’s body follows your gaze, making sure that your eyes are on him. 

“What?” You grumble out, looking away from your boyfriend once again as you look up to the ceiling instead, letting out a tired sigh. The only thing your brain was focused on was the weird pull you felt in your muscles and the way your back tightened at every single movement you made. 

You were tired and frustrated, having felt betrayed once again by your body as you did every single month. What annoyed you this time though is that it came onto you by surprise, almost a whole week early and perfectly aligned with the beach getaway Mick and you had planned for the weekend. 

Despite the annoyed look on your face, your boyfriend doesn’t seem phased, simply poking at your side in hopes to be able to catch your attention. “We can still have fun this weekend baby,” Mick says, leaning close to give your lips a peck and as annoyed as you were you still find yourself leaning into the peck, pouting as soon as Mick pulls away. 

“I wanted to go swim in the beach, and to tan a little bit, now I’m gonna be worried about bleeding.” You sigh, shifting a bit just to feel a sharp pain pierce your back. You let out a tired and exhausted whine and that’s enough for Mick to roll his eyes and get up. 

“That’s it. You’re coming with me.” He says as he extends both his hands towards you before giving you an expectant look. You refuse to get up, simply shaking your head before crossing your arms over your chest. You just wanted to mope on the couch. Mick lets it slide, but only for ten seconds. Soon after, he grabs your hands and despite your best efforts he pulls you up before wrapping his arm around your waist. 

Without hesitation he lifts you up, struggling a bit before he has you over his shoulder. You’re squirming, already flailing your limbs around in an attempt to get Mick to let you go. “This is ridiculous!” You argue, demanding him to put you down but he doesn’t listen. Instead, he carries you back to the bedroom before settling you into bed. 

“I could have gotten into bed by myself.” You huff, confused as to why your boyfriend felt the need to carry you. Mick can see it on your face, the way you purse your lips ready to argue with him but he shakes his head. 

“No,” he says, holding his hand out to stop you from even starting. It was amazing how patient he was with you, already accustomed to your antics. “You lay down, put a movie on, a show, or whatever- and I’ll make you tea and get you your water bag okay?” Mick says, already knowing your usual go to remedies.

You look at him, suddenly a bit embarrassed with how good the offer sounded but you put your pride aside when you give him a nod. “That sounds good.” You murmur just as Mick hands you the remote to the TV. You fiddle a bit with the buttons, sighing softly when Mick leaves you with a gentle kiss on the forehead before going to the kitchen as promised. 

You curl up a bit in bed as you open Netflix, browsing the different shows that they had before going to the movies. 

Comedy, horror, documentaries, science fiction, you think to yourself as you look over the different options. Nothing seems too interesting, making you let out a sigh again as you try to stretch a bit still, still unaccepting of the tension coming from your body. 

By the time Mick comes back you’re still staring at the different options, only this time you’re laying down on your side, holding your stomach as you tried your best to ignore the pain that was slowly growing stronger. 

“Have you made a choice yet baby?” Mick asks, already setting down your cup of tea on the bedside table before he’s crawling back next to you. You shake your head just as his hand gently takes hold of yours before he’s pulling it to give your knuckles a gentle kiss.

He only lets go to hand you the hot water bag he had warmed up, shifting to sit next to you before he’s taking the remote. “How about we watch some Keeping Up?” Mick asks, already closing Netflix. 

“Keeping up? You don’t even like it.” You say, taken so off guard that you momentarily forget about the little prickles you could feel, traveling down from your stomach. 

“I don’t hate it,” Mick argues, already putting on the show and your eyes shift a bit to the TV, just as you pull the water bag to your stomach. The warmth of the bag already helps ease your cramps and you can’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief. 

“Here, sit up.” He says, gently rubbing over your side as you scoot forward on the bed. Mick gently encourages you to shift forward even more. You’re confused at first, not understanding why you had to sit so low on the bed but Mick is already settling to sit behind you without question. His hand gently slips under your shirt to gently rub at your back which only sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Shh, relax. You’ll feel better soon hm?” Mick says, his hands slowly beginning to apply pressure. You can’t help the soft groan that leaves your body, already relaxing a bit more as Mick gently rubs into one of the knots in your back. 

“This, feels really good.” You sigh out, hugging the water bag closer to your stomach as Mick shifts closer. 

You can feel his breath gently tickling your neck and soon enough his lips are gently peppering kisses onto your skin. “Thank you” you murmur, too stubborn to say it very loudly.  “I’m sorry for being in a bad mood.” You apologize, extremely thankful for how patient Mick was. 

Mick simply smiles and shakes his head, “Hey, no worries. I know what I signed up for.” He teases, quickly stealing a peck from your lips before you could give him another complaint.

fin

requests are: open <3

interested in reading more? check my masterlist.

f1 taglist: @sgkophie @troybolton-14  @panicforspec  @storysf1ferrari @cosmicleclerc @writing-about-current-obsessions @thesurielships @micksmidnights

[troublcmakcrs]

‘It’s fine’ and ‘that’s all’ cut into Tweek like knives, and he flinched at both of them.  His family ran a business, though, and customers had every right to become irritated when they didn’t receive what they expected to, whether that be a particular order or timely service or whatever else.  While Tweek would have liked to be faced with patience and understanding, one’s workplace was not the environment for that.  He was mildly wounded by Gregory’s clipped responses, but he could not say he didn’t deserve them.

Gregory was right to assume Tweek was annoyed with himself.  He hated the way his brain worked—or rather, didn’t—how it couldn’t retain information for ten solid minutes and constantly put him on different planes of existence.  Flake, deranged, a spazz, an idiot—rude descriptors for him, maybe, but not inaccurate ones.  Maybe no one in South Park was normal or right in the head, but he craved being abnormal the way other people were, not the way he was.

He gave Gregory a tight smile, the friendliest he could manage at the moment, and wrung his hands to still their twitching, although the shiver just migrated up his arms, to his shoulders, down his spine.  “That’s right,” he said, almost as if he knew it all along.  “Thanks for that.”  He wanted so badly to apologize again, and another ‘sorry’ rested in the back of his throat.  But Gregory might really take his head off if he uttered it again, and people liked to hear ‘thank you’ more than ‘sorry,’ so that was what he said instead.

The numbers persisted, and he wanted to write some of them down because sometimes, it helped quiet them to do that, or at least gave less urgency to them, knowing he had something solid for deciphering later (although he had never decoded a single one of them).  Without thinking, he turned toward a pen and receipt paper on the counter but stopped himself in time, realizing he could not afford to get distracted again.

Vanilla latte, vanilla latte, vanilla latte…  He repeated the order to himself several times as he readied another mug, over and over again, forcing the words to be as loud in his head as he could so he could hear them over the numbers.  Vanilla latte, vanilla latte…  Thankfully, it was an easy enough order to make, just coffee and milk—and in this case, vanilla syrup—and it didn’t require a lot of thought and layering like some other drinks.  It did, however, call for more milk than coffee, which made his error in overfilling the mug all the more embarrassing.

It took all of two minutes to finish the order, and Tweek spent both of them in silent concentration.  He caught his tongue touching the roof of his mouth on the word latte and had to check himself to ensure he wasn’t mouthing the words as he went.  He considered putting a little flourish on it but figured it was better done than perfect and presented it to Gregory as it was.

“S—” he started, scratching at his cheek, then corrected, “Thanks again for waiting.  I hope you enjoy.”  The counter was a little tacky, maybe from the spilled coffee, or maybe from something that happened earlier.  Either way, Tweek thought it best to get a wet rag and wipe it down while he had a moment.  Then, he would attack the receipt paper with the pen.

He tried to put the numbers out of his mind for now, knowing he would only get overwhelmed if he worried about playing catch-up with them.  Talking seemed to be helping somewhat with that effort, so while Gregory probably cared nothing for excuses, for Tweek’s own sake, he continued.  “I usually don’t… work the fr-front by myself.  I don’t—don’t know where my parents went.”  He laughed wearily, throwing his head back slightly, then bent over the sticky spot on the counter again.

“I’m the only one here now, so I’m a little—”  Frazzled, out of sorts, stressed—all the things you should never confess to a customer.  He smiled again, just as forced as the last one, and shook his head.  “Well, never mind, you know.  Let me know if you need anything else.”

        Initially, there'd been brief moment of silent shock from Gregory when he'd begun watching the other blonde overfill the mug. Just being left to watch in surprise as coffee overflowed from the mug, spilling out onto the counter to create its own little lido around the mug. However, his silence didn't last very long once he'd realized Tweek didn't seem to be noticing himself what he was doing. At least, he certainly assumed the other boy hadn't noticed what he was doing based off the reaction given once he'd spoken out about the spilling coffee.

        He'd been annoyed at first with the other boy after having spoken out, watching as he snapped out of wherever he may have been in his mind to quit spilling the coffee out of the mug. That annoyance didn't last though, as he continued to keep an eye on the other as he murmured apologies and left to the sink. Just watching the other boy murmur and whisper to himself felt rather... pitiable. He didn't know Tweek well enough to gauge if this was out of the ordinary or just normal behavior for him. He'd, of course, been aware from mentions and in passing that Tweek wasn't 'normal' but then again, it was South Park, nobody here was. Even if you wanted to pretend you were, like he did himself. But that was beside the point... it wasn't difficult to tell from just silently watching for a few moments this felt odd. Wrong.

Whispering things to himself or, perhaps, seemingly nobody? He couldn't quite tell himself. He could tell the first bunch of whispers when Tweek was away from him to retrieve paper towels appeared to be angry, annoyed with something, before settling into some other emotion. One Gregory couldn't make out from where he was based off the tone or expression the other carried.

        “ It's fine. ” Gregory eventually replied to the apology that only seemed to only be somewhat towards him, unlike the others that had been almost like idle chatter to fill the void in his opinion. His expression that had originally been somewhat scrunched up in annoyance now having softened into something more neutral, something more like he was looking at the other blonde with some form of pity, as he watched the spill be cleaned.

He almost felt as if he should have offered some sort of assistance for the other's mistake. Though, the paper towels had been behind the counter and Tweek was already handling it anyhow. Even if he seemed to be handling almost as if he were annoyed himself, Gregory would say. From how he'd stomped around, to how he'd slammed one of the paper towel halves down upon the coffee puddle. It seemed as if he'd become annoyed... but perhaps not. He didn't particularly sound it after all.

        There came a sigh from the blonde Brit once Tweek finally came to apologize again and question what he'd ordered in the first place. Typically, such a thing would annoy Gregory. He wasn't one to enjoy repeating himself — even if he was one to enjoy talking so often if seemed he enjoyed the sound of his own voice — but he already felt a bit bad for Tweek so his annoyance didn't reform itself fully quite yet.

        “ It's fine, ” He repeated himself, “ I ordered a vanilla latte. That's all. ”

Both repeating himself on giving a simplistic 'It's fine' to Tweek's apologies and on repeating his order. And, despite himself not exactly being outright annoyed at the other, some annoyance did seep into his tone — in particular, it had been during the moments he'd addressed the repeated apologies in that simplistic manner.

[novosg]

Do you think you can do a headcannon w/. Monster trio with a s/o who has OCD? I'm OCD , and I know (just for me idk how other people react to theirs ) before I fall asleep , I have to recheck the locks on my doors , or check if the burners are off on my stove. Usually if I don't check atleast three times , I won't be able to sleep. Sometimes I try to fight it off, but I end up just checking because it literally drives me nuts! But yeah , a s/o like that, maybe they wake up in the middle of the night and see that their s/o isn't in bed , and went out to go looking for them ? Thank you! I love your writing , I love that's its diverse , and I'm always going back to your page to see if you have any new uploads. Thank you for your time and effort you put into your writings! Xxx Big fan !!

Of course! I myself have no experience with OCD so I hope I got this right! And tysm! I can’t even begin to express how much it means to to hear that! I’m so glad you’re enjoying my writing :) 🫶🏾🫶🏾

Monster Trio with a S/O who has OCD

Fluff, G/N!reader, the boys being supportive

Luffy

He doesn’t really notice at first

But when he does he's pretty blunt about asking you about it

He means well of course, just needs to be educated

He’s a bit confused at first, but after you talk it over with him he couldn't be more supportive!

Might pout a little that you didn’t tell him at first but he gets over that pretty quick

Has enough sense to realize it might’ve been a little hard to open up about

Every night he goes with you and chats about whatever comes to mind while you do your routines

And if you prefer to be alone he’d be right in y’all’s room waiting on you

Is like your own personal reminder-whether you need him to be or not

Will roll over and be like: “Y/N, don’t you need to go check the stuff?”

Even if you two are separated for whatever reason, his mind will drift over to you whenever that time rolls around and wonders if you’re still keeping up with your routine

If you’re ever feeling down he’s immediately stretching his face every which way trying to make you laugh and feel better

And if that’s not the type of support you need he’ll buckle down and get serious in order to console you

Will be there for you as much as humanly possible and then some

Zoro

Is one of the most observant people on board so he notices pretty quickly

Doesn’t say anything about it at first, just kinda deems it as a random habit of yours

Until he realizes you're doing it every night. Almost as if you need to do it

Thinks about what could the reasoning could be for hours on end before he finally decides to ask you about it

Follows shortly after you when you head into the kitchen and nearly gives you a heart attack in the process

“Y/N.” When you whirl around to face him he’s leaning over by the door giving you that knowing stare of his. “What are you doing?”

Is quiet while you explain it to him but that’s mainly because he’s super deep in thought

If he seems a bit annoyed please don’t think it's towards you. He’s more than frustrated with himself that he didn’t put two and two together and wasn’t there for you in all the times he could’ve been

Is a bit awkward in trying to offer help (but that’s mainly because he has the emotional availability of a rock), but he genuinely wants to help however he can

Even asks Chopper about what he could do to help you out

As much as he loves getting some sleep, he’s more than willing to stay up and wait for you

Has your routine more downpacked then you almost

Like he actually has a timeframe for the time it takes you to make your rounds. And trust and believe if you’re taking longer than usual he’s up and looking for you to see if anything’s wrong

Remember what I said about that emotional availability? Yeah..Zoro isn’t too good with sensitive talks (he tries, though) but if there’s days where everything feels like too much and you need him to listen or just simply be there, he’s right where you need him

Sanji

Has like a 6th sense for when people are in the kitchen when they’re not supposed to be so he finds out fairly quick. Especially when he wakes up and sees you’re not in bed

Is more concerned than curious when he asks what’s keeping you up

Once you tell him, he’s immediately ready to be at your service

“Oh, my love, how could I have been so blind? Tell me what you need and your prince will provide!”

If you don’t really need anything physical from him that’s fine too

Now if you need him to be there for you mentally and/or emotionally he’s right there by your side

Encourages you to come to him no matter what. He never wants you feel alone or like you can’t do so

Is very good at consoling people and never hesitates to offer soothing words or simply just a shoulder to lean on

Goes above and beyond and tries to do his own research. Just like Zoro, he’ll even ask Chopper for advice as well

Makes sure to leave the kitchen unlocked for as long as you need it open

Will also stay up and wait for you, even if you tell him he doesn’t need to

Once you get back into bed he’ll whisper all sorts of reassuring and sweet nothings to you before one of you falls asleep

To him, you’re in this together and any sort of helping hand you need he’ll lend

[fanon-canon-idfk]

Hi there, I hope I’m requesting right, but I was wondering could I get a fluffy scenario of some kind of Dazai with a boyfriend (the reader) who is very naturally stand-offish and cold, so Dazai basically makes it his goal to make his boyfriend smile and let his walls down more?

Also, even if you can’t or don’t want to do this request, I still wanted to say I love your writing! I’m so happy to see a male/gn reader blog that writes for BSD :D

I LOVE THIS IDEA!

“I love that look”

Male Reader X Osamu Dazai

“I don’t understand why we’re doing this” I spoke lightly, mostly muttering to myself.

“We’re gonna have some fun silly! We get a day off for once so let’s use it right, yeah?” He replies naturally in a charismatic tone.

Osamu was currently dragging me to the car to take me to a “surprise adventure” as he put it when waking me up

Once we were in the car, I repressed my urge to ask questions about our destination as to not annoy him, though he was constantly dropping hints to me anyways.

When we arrived I could see the clear view of high structures and carts going down them,

“Surprise! An amusement park!” He looked over to my face, almost searching for something only to seem disappointed.

He grabbed my hand as he pulled me on towards the entrance, a smile like that of a kid adorned his charming face

As soon as we’d entered and gotten our tickets, Osamu brought me to every high adrenaline ride he possibly could, always looking at my face to search for something

He then continued to bring me to a few games, using the excuse of “Wouldn’t it be nice to have one of those cliché moments where you win your boyfriend a prize..?”

Of course I got him a large plushy, he’d been staring at it every time he finally looked away from me

Once it started getting dark, Osamu brought me towards the more laid back rides

Swirling teacups, Merry-go-rounds, and finally the Ferris Wheel

Osamu was still scanning my features all through the line and even getting on the ride

Once it began to move, I felt a light weight on my arm. I then looked down to see Osamu laying his head on me, still never once turning away from looking at me.

I saw his eyes close lightly, only for him to shoot them open again and resist the urge to fall asleep

He looked quite cute in all honesty, trying so hard not to miss whatever it was that made him focus so much on my face

Osamu’s eyes began slowly closing once more, I let out a light hum of a chuckle at his efforts

He tensed as soon as he heard me, shooting his eyes wide open. He looked at my face only to dramatically gasp with a childish smile

“You did it!” He spoke enthusiastically, his bright smile then shifting into one of pure admiration and love

I’d finally realized what he’d been referring to, I was smiling. I almost felt guilty that it was something as simple as that, that made him work so hard.

He brought a hand gently to my face, brushing his thumb across my cheek lightly

He slowly brought me closer to him, myself already understanding what he wished for as I connected our lips

It felt lightening and extremely soft, I could tell this felt almost like a reward for Osamu, one I’d happily give to him.

He pulled away slowly, a hand still placed to my cheek as he examined my face on more time

“Do you like something?” I asked almost teasingly

“I do” he spoke “I love it actually..”

“I love that look..”