#bits and pieces of influences my brain has collected over time

[herebecritters]

I was discussing character inspirations with some friends

[fountainpenguin]

I love your exploration of Minecraft mechanics in pixel imperfect it's so clever and they all make sense I want to microwave it all in my brain lskekeke is there any mechanics you have thought of but haven't had a chance to put it in a fic yet?

Thank you so much <3 I worked really hard on my worldbuilding and I'm so happy with how it came together. My strengths are in magical realism, bizarre twists and turns to attempt canon compliancy, and incredible commitment to the bit sldkfj. I'm really enjoying writing for this world and I can't wait to do more.

[ Pixels Imperfect series on AO3 for context ]

#Dog's Life spoilers + minor spoilers for Criminal Experience, but the tags probably hinted at it anyway.

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Here's some stuff I haven't had the chance to delve into yet:

Soul Traits Flaring On When Flustered - I've shown Etho going into his fox traits a couple times in Dog's Life Chapter 8 (talking to Lizzie about feelings) and in "Canadian Idiot" (chewing on Joel's hand to reduce aggro urges, anxious about getting caught). His soul tail comes out and his soul ears go up. Joel's firefly soul traits also went up when he was scared during his fight with Etho in the latter story.

Usually soul traits come out under the mob-strengthening glow of the full moon. They'll also pop out when you're really flustered, startled, alert... etc. And since player souls were synced up in Double Life, that means we get gems like:

I'm working on a Traffictober piece about that actually, where Grian slips into his parrot mindset and his influence over the soul wings is so strong that every flap knocks Scar over and he keeps tripping and fumbling while fleeing mobs, so Scar's just having a great day of feeling loved and remembered all around <3

Shower Houses - It's been hinted in Dog's Life, but Grian's the only one in the New Star Station portal hub who showers regularly. Pixel people don't sweat or collect a lot of stink, so they only wash when they need to deliberately remove dirt or mods or something. Grian just washes out of habit.

People wash so rarely that there are public shower houses in New Star Station because they weren't built directly into the apartments. This is also why there have been two private conversations in Dog's Life that were held in the shower house... it's just a convenient place to go where most people don't hang out.

Onsen - This one got hinted in "Canadian Idiot," but it's funny to me... Bdubs keeps inviting Etho to the onsen. In the Pix Impf universe, you can take your skin off to show your soul underneath (so you're considerably more undressed than if you'd just pulled your regular clothes off). Bdubs and Martyn, who are both huge fans of souls, enjoy going to the onsen. Etho, who does not change his skin, keeps turning them down. Although maybe someday, because that would be a fun one-shot.

I also want to point out that most of the coupons Etho keeps on his apartment counter are fake. Bdubs makes them for him because Etho has a shopping addiction and hoards them, but... they don't have a firm currency system in New Star Station because they live in a perimeter sealed in bedrock. Bdubs just makes them because Etho likes them and sometimes he can sway Etho to do stuff with him because "Your coupons are about to expire."

Testing Positive - Tango's wife once said she "tested positive" with no context and Grian congratulated her on her pregnancy... not realizing she meant she got whitelisted on a server. It was very awkward for him. Grian fumbles around with a lot of the vocab in the Pix Impf universe but he does his best.

Soul Slots - This one came up in Criminal Experience, but hasn't shown up in anything else yet. The Between dimension's gimmick is all about souls, and in that dimension, you get one "soul slot" you can equip items to. This item will teleport to you when you move a chunk away and it will even follow you when you respawn.

Impulse has a soup thermos equipped to his soul slot. He decorates it in stickers. Every time it regenerates, it respawns with a new type of soup. Also he uses it to take out traps because he'll just hurl the thermos at things and it's big and metal and if it's open then it's full of hot soup and no one ever expects to get clonked on the head with it and it's funny to me. Sir he is literally just a guy.

In Crim, he told Mumbo he carries another thermos that's full of souls. In modern times [Crim is set about 1,000 years before Dog's Life], Impulse does favor the soul thermos over the soup one. He can't risk moving far from it, though, because it'll reset to empty if he's a chunk away from it.

Grian's Watcher Status - It is canon in Grian's lore that he became a Watcher when he left EVO; it was his way of stepping back from the series. I don't draw from Martyn's personal Eyes and Ears lore though because I wanted to put my own spin on it. In my 'verse, the Grian who was born in the Pixels Imperfect universe got swapped with the Grian who was born in my Neighborhood Watch universe, so they're both socially awkward as they fumble around each other's worlds.

[ This is also why in my image above, Grian has purple soul traits instead of blue. In the NW universe, Grian's the only one who bleeds blue instead of purple... Soul swap ]

In Dog's Life, we've seen Grian struggle his way through conversations, most recently in Chapter 11 when he kept insisting to Joel that Hermes is "just an armor stand" (while we were in Joel's POV and could clearly see that Hermes was walking around like a functioning person).

Also, Skizz literally registers as a massive jumble of code in Grian's eyes and he can only see him when he's looking at his reflection. Most of the modded players are hazy to him (Joel and Jimmy aren't much because their physical forms are still close to their soul forms, but BigB's pretty blurry). Skizz is the worst because his transition from enderman to angel is so extreme and he's got hundreds of mods on at all times. Skizz looks like a biblically accurate angel but only Grian knows it. Impulse may be just a guy but Skizz is just a winged, flaming wheel.

Grian can sort of force his vision to a lower level, which lets him see Skizz clearly enough that he can see something Skizz is holding or wearing, but it takes effort so he's gotten used to having a friend who's just... a living alphabet tornado. Grian has a very hard time fighting Skizz head on- he'll blink and shake his head and falter a lot unless he takes the time to adjust his eyes, and even then it takes a lot of his energy. He'll usually back off when he's going head to head with Skizz.

Server Defaults - By default, servers are set so that everyone has their hybrid traits and hybrid abilities (Ex: Skizz may be a modded angel, but he has an enderman soul and natural silk touch).

Server admins can adjust that, however, and scale those down or disable them almost completely (i.e. setting a server to vanilla rules, which puts everyone on an equal playing field with minor exceptions. Using Skizz as an example again, on a scaled-down server, water would still be very hot to him, but it wouldn't leave burns on his skin).

Between is a soul-themed dimension, so you're stuck with traits and can't toggle them off. Some people like to play on servers with the default settings turned up to max. There are definitely days the crew just romps around and plays with their full traits out and they just straight-up fight "all natural" because it's fun, but that's very low-stakes.

They don't do that in the Life series. Even though it's meant to be chaotic fun, it wouldn't be possible for some players. Ex: Bdubs and Martyn are phantom hybrids who have to eat souls. If you threw them in the Life series with their hybrid traits maxed out, they'd be forced to either starve to death or break the rules by attacking while they're green. Not really possible in a series with limited lives.

Phantom Feeding - Impulse (who lost his ability to pull souls out of bodies) can't play at all on servers that force those kinds of soul trait defaults unless he has someone who's willing to feed him (i.e. pull a soul out of a body and bring it to him), so he generally just doesn't play there. Skizz feeds him while they're in Between, but Impulse can't hang out in that dimension without Skizz unless someone else is there to help. If he didn't have Skizz or another feeder, he'd probably hang out around the phantom spawn temple because he'd be stuck in a starvation death loop anyway.

Phantom hybrids are flock-oriented, though, so there's usually someone to feed him... he just feels awkward asserting himself and it's easier to ask Skizz. When Skizz knows he'll be away, he'll usually prep Impulse's soul thermos. It's just awkward to do in advance because it inconveniences other people if they get left in the thermos too long. Can't get cycled back through the portal hub if you're not getting digested, y'know. It's more of a weekend prep situation, not so much an "I'm gone for a week" situation.

Bdubs does save souls for Martyn on days that Martyn's hunting ground is empty. Martyn and Bdubs may fight a lot, but they're still flockmates and Bdubs does care.

Default Trait Shift - In the Between dimension, the phase of the moon you respawn under influences how much you show your hybrid traits (a nod to the game mechanic that strengthens mobs under the full moon). Ergo, this snippet of Etho getting his ears:

There’s a rattling noise in the kitchen. Scar leans back. It’s the doorknob that leads into the apartment hall. The door slams inward a second later. A fuming, scrawny fox hybrid man looms like a silver wraith in the dark. For half a second, Scar’s not sure it’s even Etho. This figure’s got the same puffy tail, but he’s also got fox ears that stand quivering and tall on his head. Then he remembers Etho just got his vessel reset. The moon is waxing; the percentage of visible hybrid traits he shows is higher now than it was the last time he spawned.

In the example above, Etho respawned with his arctic fur, but it's fully possible for him to respawn as ginger instead.

iJevin is the poster child for this- he looks a lot like a slime because he was last respawned on a full moon night (as opposed to someone like PiglinMyNose who's also a slime hybrid, but shows drippy face traits and not the natural slime coloration). When Jevin respawns, he can come back as either blue or green, and he'll come back looking more humanoid unless it's a full moon.

Cleo's most common form is a waxing moon spawn. She gets more stitches, decorative injuries, and flowers during the waxing and full moon, but if she respawns under a new moon then she defaults to her "HumanCleo" skin. Still a zombie, just comes in various flavors of "freshly undead and basically human" to "oh, they're a corpse who falls apart easily."

Soul-Sharing - Soul-sharing is a nod to Season 8 of Hermitcraft when Mumbo ate Grian's soul (and is apparently still sharing it since he's been wearing the soul-sharing skin throughout Season 9 and even in his non-Hermitcraft content).

In the Pixels Imperfect universe, Grian is a parrot hybrid and Mumbo is a wandering trader. When they blended souls, Mumbo started growing wings and getting hazy glimpses at things that Grian's Watcher eyes can see (so he can sort of understand how blurry Skizz is, but not to the same degree Grian sees him).

Grian got wandering trader robes, the ability to make binding deals, and a bit of inventory space (something you don't normally have in Between).

During Dog's Life, when Grian and Etho were smuggling SnifferMyFeet across the portal hub, they put Sniff in wandering trader robes and Etho's like "I'm afraid to ask why Grian has Mumbo's robes in his closet." They actually weren't Mumbo's- they're Grian's half of the soul-sharing. Sometimes Grian wears them; I just haven't found a good place to show it yet.

Impulse and Skizz are soul-sharing for medical reasons. My short story Criminal Experience opens with Impulse as a phantom hybrid and ends with him getting his soul wrecked because he'd do anything for Skizz, even at the cost of himself. Skizz would do anything for Impulse, including sharing his soul to keep Impulse alive <3

Imp and Skizz's bond is even tighter than Grian's and Mumbo's, and it's a reference to their Naked & Scared series where they regularly share hearts. Impulse and Skizz constantly feel each other's pain and they have to manually turn off their heart-sharing when they join new servers. Sometimes they forget (or just don't want to) and continue sharing.

Skizz was actually secondhand soulbound to Bdubs during Double Life, but he can't bring himself to talk about it with Impulse (a nod to IRL Skizz talking about how he hasn't watched Double Life because he knows it would wreck him emotionally). Mumbo was secondhand bonded to Scar, but he didn't feel it as intensely as Skizz did.

Impulse's soul is in tatters right now. He can't really do phantom things anymore (like pull souls out of bodies... although he can eat them if another phantom hybrid brings him one), so Skizz keeps them fed when they're in the Between dimension. Skizz [born an enderman hybrid] can filter feed from the void and he can also eat souls now. If he hadn't modded giant angel wings on himself, he'd have phantom wings.

"Can't Impulse just eat the soup in his thermos-" Not in Between; he's naturally an anivore, so when he's in the soul-themed dimension, he can only get nutrients from souls.

"Then why does he have-" Because he's petty, next question.

Since sharing with Skizz, Impulse can't tolerate water or eye contact as well as he used to, but not to the crippling degree it used to affect Skizz. He also got Skizz's ability to toggle silk touch on, but only when he's on-server (since you can't move blocks in Between unless you follow certain worldbuilding rules like having a command star or teaming up with a dragon) and only if that server allows it.

Also, Impulse sleeps in the same bed as Skizz and his wife and they literally just have to deal with this because he gets agitated and doesn't like sleeping alone... He curls up at their feet and we'll see this in the opening chapter of Dog's Life Session 3.

I also have a Traffictober I'm working on - "Like Newlyweds Do" - where Impulse tries to adjust to sleeping in the same bed as Bdubs during Double Life (and Bdubs, the king of comfortable sleep, is horrified that Impulse doesn't like pillows). Not a very cuddly wedding night... but they still love each other sdfklj.

Impulse doesn't sleep well alone (even worse when Skizz isn't on the server) and he'll usually try to sleep on someone else's bed instead of by himself. I definitely remember him respawning in Bdubs' bed instead of his own during the Soup Group rebellion arc, which is hilarious. Oh to be a clingy yet touch-averse guy who has issues being married to a man who betrayed him in a past life but also you just crawl into his bed so you have somewhere safe to sleep.

For Hermitcraft 8 and 9, Impulse's go-to person to sleep on is Pearl (or Gem when Pearl's away for time zone reasons), but he's not picky. He just struggles to be alone because your soul flares up when you're asleep and he doesn't have a full soul, so it sends his body into a panic unless there's someone nearby he trusts.

I like to think these bed-sharing habits also influenced how he played 3rd Life and why he successfully schmoozed his way into so many alliances. You can absolutely confuse Martyn into thinking you're a close ally if you sway him into letting you sleep on his bed "for medical reasons." Scar probably let Impulse stay with him one time, but Grian would have thrown him out so fast, ha ha.

[ More under the cut <3 ]

Corrupted Player Souls - Scar has a lot of soul dysphoria over whether he's an allay or a vex, because when he looks at himself in the mirror, he can't tell. He usually identifies as a vex, but I'm working on a Traffictober piece where he turns to Grian for comfort and Grian's flustered because he has no idea what Scar wants to hear. Awkward desert duo attempted comfort, my beloved.

Sniff has a bit of dysphoria over his corruption too, but his is more along the lines of feeling so glitched out and weightless that he regularly forgets he has a physical body (which we saw in "No One Likes the Opening Band" where he slammed into a wall thinking he could go through it and died from kinetic energy). Speaking of-

Cam Accounts - There's a distinct difference between what camera accounts can biologically do vs. what players can biologically do. Cam accounts can go into spectator mode, defy gravity, pass through blocks, and they can see colors that players can't. TwoMuchGrian likes to hover over Grian without flapping his wings just because he likes to brag about how little energy it takes to float (while Grian is forced to flap to stay up). However, cam accounts can't use commands (so they can never have command stars) and they can't create their own servers.

The IRL free-cam mod lets you pass through blocks, but in the Pixels Imperfect universe, only cam accounts can pass through blocks. Player accounts can enter free-cam by roaming around in their glowy mob soul form, but they still have to go around blocks (Tango, for example, has a specific path he has to take in order to get inside Decked Out and watch people). Player accounts aren't able to go into true spectator mode, and any time they do (such as when they're ghosts watching people at the end of the final Life series episode), this is interpreted as them being in free-cam.

Players always have to deal with some kind of collision and gravity effect, and it's generally a very bad thing when they glitch through stuff (Ex: Etho was so fritzed out when his fox soul started taking over in "Canadian Idiot" that he glitched through the deck of The Relation for a second before he adjusted).

Martyn Eating Clothes - I did show Martyn eating his sleeves in Dog's Life Chapter 6 (and he makes another reference in Chapter 11), but we haven't really delved into what's going on there. Martyn is a phantom hybrid, but Bdubs [the flock captain] doesn't let him feed on other players' souls very often [feeding meaning "this person's player went AFK so we have to log them out and send them to their offline server"; everyone comes back later and they're fine, but this is what phantom hybrids do].

Bdubs keeps Martyn hungry and gives Martyn a designated hunting ground that's Just For Martyn, which pretty much guarantees that Martyn will always eat people who wander into it. Specifically, Martyn's hunting area is the entire perimeter of New Star Station (as in, the edge rim) so Martyn's always chasing people who try to leave the station.

Martyn's not digesting cloth, but he's eating the code that connects people's clothing to their soul and/or player energy (There's an upcoming scene where he eats Scar's hat, too). If you just handed him an old shirt or a spare skin, he can't eat that because it's not currently attached to anyone and flowing with soul energy. He has to eat people specifically, or else the closest thing to a person he can get, which sometimes means chewing on his own shirt because his own clothing checks all the boxes for "attached to a person."

There are lots of twisted politics involved with Martyn's designated hunting ground being the perimeter... When he's in the Between dimension, Martyn can't gain energy from physical food, so he has to hunt people. He's always hungry and due to phantom flock politics, he has little choice but to play his role in preventing people from leaving the portal hub, which is exactly what Scott wants because Scott's so incredibly paranoid about the portal hub getting discovered by the anarchy players who've overrun outside world.

Cleo, who likes to dig because they're a zombie, is constantly trying to break through the bedrock wall around New Star Station. Huge conflict... because Martyn's insufferably curious. Martyn's constantly fighting the urge to eat Cleo and instead he just tries watching and talking to them. Martyn keeps bending the rules for Cleo because he's a little sweeter on them than he'd like to admit (hashtag it's really important to me that everyone vibes with their soulmates even outside Double Life... soulmates for a reason even if they don't like admitting it).

Which is where we get this upcoming scene at the end of Dog's Life Session 2:

“I don’t care. I have Cleo now.” “S’cuse me?” Jimmy cocks his head. When Scott stares at him, looking insulted, Jimmy says (tentatively), “How… how does that work when they’re blowing holes in your wall? Aren’t you the mayor? Or is the mayor bit just a bunch of roleplay too? I thought it was serious, but I really don’t know anything about politics.” “… When they’re what?” “Oh, that’s someone else.” I’ve messed up; I’ve really messed something up. “That’s someone else, I think. I just saw them. I mean, BigB’s always talking, you know?” “Martyn’s on wall-watch.” Scott says it like he’s holding a knife against a battered Jimmy’s throat. Scott’s staring harsh and furious, like he’d very much like to lunge across the bed, grab Jimmy’s jacket collar in his hands, and slam his head against the wall. “And Martyn’s always hungry; Bdubs keeps him hungry on purpose, just for this. If someone’s trying to find a way through, Martyn would put a stop to that so quick. Martyn wouldn’t… Martyn… Cleo would never ally with Martyn. That’s not… I’ll talk to him, though.”

We love stupidly complicated animal people politics and we love young people in positions of power making decisions out of paranoia and panic <3

I actually have several pieces I want to do about Cleo and Martyn in the portal hub, especially in regards to the bedrock wall, but I keep hesitating over whether that's appropriate for my Traffictober series because... it's not while they're on the Life series server and also it's so incredibly specific to this worldbuilding. But they are one-shots that draw specifically from Cleo and Martyn's Double Life dynamic so I guess that still counts.

I just really love dumb Zombiewood drama and I love them screwing each other over on accident even when they're just trying to hang out and be friends slkdfj. Them...

Creator Bleed / Emotion Bleed / Martyn's Sync - Creator traits that bleed over into the characterization of their little pixel character are called creator bleed. For example, Mumbo has two llamas which symbolically represent Creator Mumbo's love for biking.

Emotion bleed is when our little pixel friends can feel strong emotions through their sync-cords- for example, Joel and Lizzie can sense their creators are married because they can feel strong affection through their sync-cords and figured out it was happening at the same time.

Martyn is unique in that he does not have a sync-cord. He struggles with self-doubt, wondering if he wasn't a fun character to play and his creator abandoned him, so he lives his life constantly trying to be a fun person to play with and he takes it super personally if people don't want to be around him (so the Double Life break-up hit harder than he admits to).

Martyn not having a sync is a reference to Creator Martyn being super involved with lore, with the implication being that Creator Martyn wanted to put his little guy through The Horrors so the sync was snapped to maintain strict emotional distance. In Pixels Imperfect, this also means Martyn can pick up on things most people can't, which is a nod to his Life series episodes where the Watchers speak to him but not to others.

Besides Grian, Martyn is the only character in Pixels Imperfect who knows what kisses are. He's "out of sync" and gets influenced from the universe at large. It's like he fell out of Creator Martyn's boat and can pop his head both above and below the water, as opposed to both of them sailing on the surface together. Character Martyn uses certain words that the other characters don't, so we get stuff like this fun exchange [Dog's Life, end of Session 3]:

“I don’t know, G,” because he’s running out of doors to hide behind. Martyn fidgets with the axe. Grian’s eyes snap over. It’s exactly the chance Martyn needs to drop his gaze. “I mean… You’re forcing it, aren’t you?” “How do you mean?” “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The others aren’t like us. Their natures are ingrained; basically predetermined. They can’t go against their nature. It’s… It’s like BigB and Ren drifting back together like satellites once you’re out of the equation. They paralleled each other long before Double Life, Grian. You disrupted the storyline, but not the code of the game, and they’ll keep circling each other instead of you.” He fiddles with the axe again. He can see from its reflection that Grian’s getting irritated; the purple glow is all he needs. He’d rather not look him in the eye. “I just… I don’t know. If they don’t act on their emotions first, then maybe we shouldn’t flirt with them. They’re just following code; they’re just part of the game.” “We’re part of the game. We have code.” “It’s different. We know things.

Do with that what you will.

Calendars - I like to think that there are multiple calendar systems: one for when you're in the Between dimension and once when you're on server. There's a scene in Dog's Life Chapter 11 where Joel tells Lizzie "It's Wednesday; I'm not going anywhere" and I almost took that out because technically, the on-server Wednesday and the Between Wednesday wouldn't line up so that doesn't make sense.

The official Minecraft mechanic has the moon set to an 8-day cycle. My personal view is that the on-server calendar would have an 8-day week and instead of using day names like Monday and Tuesday, everyone tracks days by the moon phase.

However, calendars are a huge pain not just to worldbuild, but to convey to readers in a way that makes sense and doesn't come across as super info dumpy. I'm probably going to leave it and let them use words like Wednesday and treat weeks as 7-day cycles, but in my heart... in my heart, it's an 8-day week and they have moon day names like Waxnight and Newnight. Maybe someday I'll go back and edit those names in, or maybe I'll just keep that in my pocket for a personal project, who knows...

Admin Inexperience - My draft for "There Are Many Benefits to Being Corporeal" was originally going to cover an adventure between SnifferMyFeet and PiglinMyNose as they try to craft ice cream, which meant going out to get ice (and there was a big discussion about what Pig can and can't touch because he's technically a camera account).

I ended up scrapping all that because it was getting long-winded and it was a little too much effort for these two silly side characters if I wasn't even sure I was going to be happy with it, so... I let them make cake instead, which actually is craftable, so that was much less adventurous and mechanics info-dumpy.

Anyway I wanted to point this out because Sniff is the server admin for their server, but he's a newbie account who doesn't know what he's doing, so I had scenes like this:

SnifferMyFeet was blown up by [Admin Inexperience] PiglinMyNose: You okay? SnifferMyFeet: ASDSLKSJF That’s the only response he gets. [...] SnifferMyFeet was blown up by [Admin Inexperience] Sniff lies flat on his back, surrounded by woodchips, puddles, and melon rinds. Pig circles overhead a few times, swooping lower and lower on every pass. He finally lands with a pat on top of the bed. He tucks in the canary and vex wings. Sniff parts his fingers long enough to glower at him. “I don’t understand. This is so unfair. Grian and Joel both know how to use commands.” PiglinMyNose: It takes practice PiglinMyNose: And you’re not Grian and Joel PiglinMyNose: You’re Sniff :)

Sniff references this scene in Dog's Life when he talks about his relationship with Pig and how Pig was there to help him get clean every time he blew up. They're friends. Also we got to see the same vibe of Pig comforting Sniff in "No One Likes the Opening Band" so that was self-indulgent and fun <3

Some other Sniff and Pig highlights from the Corporeal draft include:

“Put me back into camera mode. You’re the admin.” Sniff’s eyes move to the glowing five-point star on the underside of his hand. It’s the command block star, and one Pig has never worn himself. He waits, lightly bouncing on his toes, as Sniff stares blankly at his wrist. “So… so an outside person has to do that to you?” “Yeah. You’re the admin.” “… And it’s all up to me to bring you back if you decide to be a player again? Like, you can do nothing? You might just be stuck as a camera forever if I don’t?” “I trust you,” Pig assures him, which sends fireworks up Sniff’s face. He quickly brushes off the loose pixels, but his hands are shaking. They’re shaking bad. “Um…” Sniff brings a fingertip to each of Pig’s temples. “Pig, I dub thee a camera.” The snort bubbles up before Pig can stop it. “Not like that!” [...] “But doesn’t that take away your voice? I don’t think I can… I don’t know, Pig. That’s a little messed up.” “Sniff, it’s okay.” Pig grasps Sniff’s wrist, guiding his cupped hand to his cheek. “I want to do this.”

[...]

Pig frowns, then projects his thoughts into the space around him. PiglinMyNose: Oh, that’s different “I knew it,” Sniff blurts. “I messed it up! I’ll put you back.” PiglinMyNose: No, no! It’s fine. It’s just that I’m a slime soul PiglinMyNose: These aren’t my slime wings Pig gives them a few experimental flaps. PiglinMyNose: Not that that’s unusual, I guess PiglinMyNose: Slime hybrids absorb traits from those around them PiglinMyNose: This canary wing is from Jimmy. The vex one is from Scar “What the heck is a canary?” Sniff asks, pulling out his sword. He glances around, lip trembling, like he expects some sort of brute to lumber from the undergrowth. PiglinMyNose: It’s a modded bird “What’s a bird?” PiglinMyNose: We’ll talk later PiglinMyNose: Practice spawning blocks PiglinMyNose: You’ve got parrot spawn eggs and stuff too PiglinMyNose: I’ll be back soon :)

Sob... they care so much about each other... I just love the ancient and experienced cam account boy and his new best friend, the incredibly temperamental newbie who has body dysphoria because he got possessed for two weeks sldkfj

Honorable mention to this snippet:

PiglinMyNose: Can you poof? Sniff glances around the area, then back at Pig. “Too scared. What happens if I poof inside a tree? I saw Cleo almost suffocate inside a tree once.” PiglinMyNose: You will respawn :) “You’re not going to even try to rescue me?” PiglinMyNose: I’m a camera “I think I’ll walk, thanks. Maybe later.”

They really are just Like That... Sniff and Pig, my beloveds...

So, those are some mechanics I haven't talked about yet!

Also, here are some of my favorite worldbuilding details that already have made it in (#Dog's Life spoilers up to Chapter 11 + references to my Traffictober one-shots)

In the Pixels Imperfect universe, no one has blood. This means they can't blush. They also can't cry because they don't have tear ducts. Both of these body reactions will make them spark and fritz pixels instead. However, they do have lungs (because breathing is an official game mechanic) and they have spit (because llamas can spit, so therefore spit exists in the game). It's an interesting worldbuilding switch for me because when I write my Fairly OddParents 'fics, the fae have blood and tears but they don't have lungs, ha ha. Massive brain switch I have to do when picking out the body language for these two worlds. Technically they don't have genetics, nor does evolution exist in this world. Why did Jimmy imply blaze and ghast have a common ancestor when he shouldn't have any idea what that means? idk, I was aware of the irony but it was funny to me sldkjf

Not a mechanic, but a canon part of the worldbuilding for the Pix Impf universe is that Grian built a Mumbo shrine on his AFK server. It's a reference to things like the escape room video where he just straight-up built a creepy Mumbo room because he missed him, and also he gets the itch to connect with Mumbo sometimes because they share a soul. I just think it's funny.

Anytime he's in Between (i.e. off a server), Martyn has constant vertigo. He tries to push through it, but it's always kind of draining his mind. This is a reference to creator Martyn's personal lore, where his character is constantly falling until he wakes up in a new Life series.

Joel's hair stripe is coded on. He changes color by tweaking his code (and/or messaging Scott to change his code). If he were to use flower dye, it would wipe out every time he leaves a server because you more or less can't take stuff from on-server into Between. Technically he could take tiny drips of it, but nothing useful (same reason you can still have scratches, dirt, and splinters but you can't take a full wood block).

Calendar times are super messed up. I use the official Minecraft conversions, so each Life series play session is 9 in-game days [3 hours IRL] with a bit of spill over the sides for resource gathering and clean-up. Time moves differently in the Between dimension vs. the Overworld (and that's not even accounting for how hard it is to track time in the Nether and End). When I write my FOP content, I'm incredibly nitpicky over the timeline, right down to making the effort to assign every single episode for all 11 seasons to a calendar day just so my fanfic timeline would be "perfect." It's hilarious to go from that to this where I deliberately make no attempt to match the years up because everyone's personal timelines are scrambled from jumping in and out of servers. I know there are timeline inconsistencies and I just choose not to fix them because I think it's part of the charm of this particular world. Yeah Grian's only been here 250 years, yeah Scar's somehow known him since he got here but also only for 200 years, yeah Martyn arrived after Grian and has somehow been here for 300 years, what's your point? One of them spent longer on-server and one of them spent longer in Between so it screwed up their mental math. Also BigB and Cleo were simultaneously married for 4 years but also 6 years but also less than 24 hours. Yeah Double Life lasted for a year but also for 6 weeks but also the gap between LimLife and Dog's Life is somehow only a few months despite it being a larger gap than Double Life's entire run-time. They literally just live like this. Time isn't real in the Pix Impf world.

The admin for a server will always have a command star on their hand, which gives them the ability to use admin powers. The Between dimension is not a server and the only way to get commands in that dimension is to slay a spawn dragon... or slay whoever currently has the star. Only two people have command stars in Between. One of them is Scott [who has the Allay Dragon's star] and the other is Herobrine [who has the Cluckshroom Dragon star]. My favorite joke is that Herobrine doesn't even do anything in Dog's Life - he's just chilling in the background lore - but there's this creepy reputation associated with having a command star and Scott just has to deal with it. There's this super messed-up power dynamic anxiety in general with "Scott is super on his toes because anyone could just straight-up kill him for his command star, and the Allay Dragon is dead so Scott will perma-die instead of respawning like everyone else" and it's. very dark and fun for me. He literally can't get rid of that command star even if he wanted to because someone would have to kill him and that's too much of a risk.

The characters who are anarchy refugees can use metaphors related to things outside the portal hub (I think Lizzie used syrup once and Etho described SnifferMyFeet as a meerkat). Scar's worldview is much more limited because he's never been outside New Star Station and his metaphors reflect this.

Generally, mobs are referred to as "it" and only gendered on occasion. I actually thought long and hard about sexual dimorphism before deciding that yes, when Jimmy started taking on chicken traits in Dog's Life, he needed hen feathers, not rooster colors, because all the Minecraft chickens are hens. Mobs can come in slightly different colors (Dogs, cats, horses can all have domestic patterns - Lizzie being a calico cat in Empires Season 2 is a good example of this making sense in universe, as is Skizz's mod that makes dogs look like his IRL dog) but something like rooster coloration is too extreme. My Neighborhood Watch universe does have sexual dimorphism, so they breed cows with ravagers and they also have roosters. I actually have to keep words like "rooster" and "bull" out of the Pix Impf universe because no one except Grian would know what those words mean.

BigB used to be an Illusioner before he got moth mods. He lost his ability to see through blocks and he's kind of grumpy about it. I play him as a nosy guy largely because of the Nosy Neighbors schtick he had going on in LimLife, but also because his moth mods give him incredible hearing and he was just plain nosy because of his Illusioner code even way back in the day. It's weird to live 2000 years being able to see through blocks and then that gets taken away from you.

In Dog's Life Chapter 11, Grian brushes loose pixels off the bed and then dumps them in a jar before he comes back to bed. Those pixels can be reused to rebuild your body and it's the same wavelength as what Joel did in "Canadian Idiot" when he cut some of Etho's hair and used it to rebuild his chewed-off fingers.

Also in "Canadian Idiot," Joel talked about how you don't want to use lava as a fuel source inside a tight space or else you'll make your build smell like sulfur. I really wanted to give the characters whose strengths lie in building some things that they knew more about compared to the redstoners, who traditionally prioritize efficiency over aesthetic and comfort. Everybody's smart in their own way.

In "Shack Up Like It's Summer 2022," Tango accidentally washed plates in an infinite water source block and then he had to spend time getting the crumbs out because... he ruined the drinking water.

In "Dog Biscuits," Ren put a cover on the crafting table before he pushed it down. It had measurements on it and the cover just keeps stuff from splattering when you squish it. Ren's not sloppy; he does his work with attention to detail.

One more detail from Dog's Life to wrap things up, but Impulse has actually been dealing with weird brain influence for more of Dog's Life than he hasn't been... it just didn't get brought to the forefront until Chapter 11 because other people were also having problems. As early as Chapter 4, Skizz noticed he was acting off. Later at Jimmy's party, Impulse stood to the side and kept rubbing his eyes. Over the next few chapters, several people note that Impulse is being "unhelpful" in texts because he's only asking about where Bdubs is. Bdubs even straight-up told Etho that Impulse tried to fight him but they just brush it off because they don't think it's important, and then you get midway through Chapter 11 and all of a sudden it's Very Obvious that Impulse is Messed Up and no one noticed until now, and now everyone is locked in their own servers and none of the programmers can reach Impulse and look at his code, so Impulse is just suffering (TM) for the next month or so that he's locked in offline status. There's definitely a worldbuilding thing going on about why Impulse specifically is suffering, and we'll delve into it later... Idk, I just really like how it came together, with Impulse getting overlooked... I think it's funny. I love Impulse; he's my favorite.

Thank you for enjoying my worldbuilding and my work! I love writing for this series and I'm so happy to hear you like it <3

[sslloowwbbuurrnn]

Summer Reading #1: The Perfection of Yoga by His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda

   My hot girl summer reading pile is off to a slow but steady start. I’m on holiday for a fortnight, which is the perfect opportunity for me to read this pile of books I’ve been growing all year, and I’m gonna blog about it cos I can. Welcome.

   I am currently slowly reading Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, to be consumed one bite at a time. Will keep this one going alongside the others which I will zoom through, and it’s full of tasty nuggets of wisdom that I’ll share as I go. Comparable (from my perspective) to reading the Biblical book of Proverbs. Other texts that I’m chipping through include the Secular Buddhism podcast by Noah Rasheta, and I’m about to dig into Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson. I’ve recently listened to an interview with her which covered the basic concepts, so it’s fresh in my brain. These are worth mentioning from the get go as they’re all pretty philosophical and certainly influencing the lens through which I read these other books, and for my own purposes I want to share bits and pieces from these as I digest them. I’m consuming these texts and observing how they alter my perspective as they sink into my brain. It reminds me of an excerpt from Listening, a R.A.P. Ferreira track with a spoken sample from jazz pianist Hal Galper:

“You have to be listening 28 hours a day. One of the things I count on in my teaching is that everyone has been listening, so that once I make a point, the ring of truth occurs. They say, "Oh, I've heard that," or, "I've felt that”.”

   He might be speaking on music theory, but it resonates with me as I learn new concepts and then come to understand them as they become relevant in my life. I’m excited for this collection of books. It’s also my personal project as I spend this fortnight alone with my parents and after a very busy start to the new year - I’m gonna return home all wise and enlightened and shit.    Noah Rasheta shares a quote from the Dalai Lama at the beginning of each podcast episode which I feel is relevant too:

“Do not try to use what you learn from Buddhism to be a better Buddhist, use it to be a better whatever you already are.”

   I like this as it reflects my attitude while reading the books that I am. I was wrapped up in the harmful control of Christianity for most of my life so I’m not really interested in rushing into another religion, but I am curious and seeking self improvement, and I’m excited that my learnings don’t need to fit within some kind of box. My mind is more malleable than it used to be, and I am open to whatever advice is going to help me become a more empathetic and caring member of this human community. I’m inspired to write too as it will help me remember what I learn; it’s fun to look back on my journaling and writing; and my partner is a passionate writer and it has re-awoken that in me a little. It’s a purely self-serving project but I hope other people enjoy my musings too. So without further ado, let’s jump in the deep end and criticise a religious text.

   Today I finished The Perfection of Yoga by His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda. It’s a very short book, elaborating on concepts around yoga and excerpts from the Bhagavad-gitā, which I received for free from some Hare Krishnas at some point. Have been looking forward to reading it as I love yoga and I wanted to understand more about its cultural background, but as it turns out that is not really what the book is about at all. I didn’t learn anything about the practice of yoga as I understand it, but I certainly understand the Hare Krishna religious practice more than I did.    As a brief preface, my previous experiences with the Hare Krishnas include great food and bumping into annoying airheads on Cuba St. At every interaction they’ve really buttered me up and tried to win me over. The funniest interaction was one handing me a copy of the Bhagavad-gitā on the street as a “gift”, but as I walked away they were like “oh sorry, that’s $10”. I tried to return the book then, telling them I’m a poor student and I have no cash. They pulled out an eftpos machine. I can’t remember if it was this interaction or another one, but I also tried to decline the book due to religious differences as I was a Christian at the time. But then they went on about how much they love Christians and think we’re kind and wonderful. One way or another I was too spineless and ended up buying a copy of the Bhagavad-gitā. I tried to read it but as it was worshipping another god in the text, I put it down as it didn’t fit with my beliefs. Years later I grabbed this mini one on yoga.    The other context I had going into reading this was that my partner recently told me about his brief time being involved with them years ago. While he felt the food and chanting was good and elements of their beliefs, he concluded the Hare Krishna movement served mostly as a way to scoop up the hippies of the 60s, and that it is taking advantage of young, directionless people, and separating them from their relationships and personal interests in a cult-like manner. After reading The Perfection of Yoga, I can understand why he came to that conclusion.    The author Prabhupāda explains that the only way to achieve the perfection of yoga is by 24/7 thinking of Krsna (moving into Krishna Consciousness) and essentially shutting yourself off to material desires, striving only for spiritual desires and Krsna. You should only eat enough to live, sleep 6 hours a night, and ideally live in complete isolation. Everything you do must be dedicated to Krsna. Enjoying food is one of these material desires (aka sinful, worldly pleasures), so if you prepare something tasty it should only be done for Krsna as an offering, and in Krsna’s mercy he will allow you to eat it. Sex is permitted as well, but all these things are seen as necessary chores to keep your earthly vessel alive. Celibacy is encouraged and if you choose this, sitting alone with even your mother, sister, or daughter is a risk that should be avoided. You should remove material temptations from your life as much as possible. What’s really important is your soul, and time on earth is seen as temporary and your body is not your true self. Your life on earth should ideally be spent only seeking Krsna so that when your body dies your soul can either reach their version of a heaven, (which is again Krishna Consciousness I believe), or if you don’t achieve perfection you will return to earth in a new body to pick up where you left off.    There are numerous other conditions one should adhere to which really shocked me, but it can be summarised as living in absolute disconnection from the world, no attachment to anything material/physical (the “illusion”), and whole dedication to the spiritual through Krishna Consciousness (the “reality”). This all reads to me as control and manipulation, encouraging ill health, eating disorders, inviting sexual and other abuse, cult behaviour, and creating a group of people ready to be inducted straight into Nazi-dom. The use of the words “pure” and “perfection” throughout this text are alarming, and to achieve this perfection is realistically unattainable. It also provides an alluring escapism from dealing with anything going on earth. The text actively encourages isolation - even if they have a family, some Indian devotees will leave their wife and children at age 40 or 50 (I can’t recall exactly and I can’t find the passage) and go to live in isolation and spend the rest of their earthly life seeking Krsna. To me this lifestyle just produces airhead zombies, and another flavour of hippies who lean dangerously close to Nazi ideology and use their beliefs as an excuse to disengage from any responsibilities as a society dweller.    It’s worth acknowledging that the Hare Krishna belief system is not the only one that encourages this isolation from society, I think there’s a version of this ideology present in most religions, whether god-ordained or skewed by followers to suit their wants. The world is a pretty overwhelming place so it’s understandable why this lifestyle is appealing to people. But even so, I’m shocked by the extremity of theses parameters outlined in this book.    The Perfection of Yoga was a short, interesting read, and definitely not what I was expecting at all. But I’m glad I read it, was more accessible for me than the Bhagavad-gitā, and it feels good to learn about other religions. I’ve spent most of my life as a Christian and never learning a thing about other religions, despite being vehemently opposed to them. Now I can wholeheartedly dislike the Hare Krishna movement and back it up. And I’ve gained an appetite to learn more, particularly about the harm caused by this movement, their complex ideas around reincarnation, and personally George Harrison’s album “All Things Must Pass”. If this movement really picked up momentum in the west around the 60s/70s, having ex-Beatle George Harrison releasing a whole ass chart-topping mainstream album worshiping Krishna must’ve really helped their cause.

   Next on my reading list is Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake, a book all about fungi, and Jesus and John Wayne by Kristin Kobes De Mez, which is about how American white nationalism has steered western Christianity into the Trump loving beast it is today. Gonna read these in tandem since they’re quite a contrast, and neither are the kind that I want to race through without having a good chew.

   I’d close with an excerpt from today’s book, except I don’t think there was actually a single passage that I really liked or agreed with... So I’ll close with something from Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations instead:

“Men seek retreats for themselves - in the country, by the sea, in the hills - and you yourself are particularly prone to this yearning. But all this is quite unphilosophic, when it is open to you, at any time you want, to retreat into yourself. No retreat offers someone more quiet and relaxation than that into his own mind, especially if he can dip into thoughts there which put him at immediate and complete ease: and by ease I simply mean a well-ordered life. So constantly give yourself this retreat, and renew yourself. The doctrines you will visit there should be few and fundamental, sufficient at one meeting to wash away all your pain and send you back free of resentment at what you must rejoin.”

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Possibilities [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Title: Possibilities Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Female!Reader Word count: 3k Published: 6 July 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warnings: Mention of food and alcohol Summary: Tom and you have been friends for a long time and because of that same reason you value your friendship more than to ruin it with some silly feelings. But the event you attend together offers you some surprises that might change your relationship forever.

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Events, galas, award ceremonies. You weren't a popular actress nor a famous singer, or social media influencer. You had a simple 9-5 job that would hardly ever get you into these events. But regardless of your status in society, you were known and not because of any talent you possessed that could have made you famous, but because your best friend was none-other than Tom Hiddleston.

You have been friends for years, you adored everything about the man. He was sweet and kind, always polite, but just as playful. It was a friendship you felt lucky to be in, a friendship that you held so close to your heart, it would have broken every little piece of you if it ever ended. Often, you found yourself staring at him with a little smile in the corner of your lips, watching his every move, the way he joked around with his co-stars on set, the way he exercised in the gym for a role, the way he winked at you with a mischievous smile as he caught your eyes on him.

"Do you need my autograph?" he asked with a wide grin as he opened the door of the luxurious car he booked for the event. Once again you have forgotten your eyes on him— his dashing looks, the perfectly fitted suit, the playful twinkle in his eyes. He never stopped teasing you about it.

"Shove off, Tom," you nudged him as he got out of the car and held out a hand for you, waiting for you to accept his help. So, you did. Wrapping your fingers around his hand, you let him help you out of the vehicle as you rearranged your stunning dress and ran your hand down its length to remove any creasing. Cameras were flashing, reporters' loud voices filled the pathway to the entrance, a long red carpet leading your way inside the building towering over you like a modern castle.

"If I didn't know better, I would think your interest in me goes beyond friendship," he chuckled as he held his arm out to you, waiting for yours to be placed over his, his eyes following every little movement of yours. A sudden rush of heat travelled up to your cheeks, your breathing slightly laboured as you tried to calm your heavily beating heart. He was not wrong after all. It's been years since you have been harbouring these feelings, but you hadn't had the heart to confess them. Tom was more important to you than to ruin it over some silly feelings.

Sometimes, when you caught Tom's eyes on you, watching you intently, a soft smile spread across his face, it made you think if maybe, just maybe he was harbouring similar feelings towards you. But the idea was quickly swept away by your doubts, the thought of such an amazing man falling for you seeming impossible. You knew your worth, you didn't write yourself down, but Tom has always been perfect in your eyes, and you couldn't imagine him wanting you even if at times a certain silly part of your brain whispered otherwise.

"I love your healthy self-confidence," you finally gathered your ability to be able to reply, earning a comical huff from him. You have been trying hard, to deny your romantic interest in him, but rumours about the two of you have become a reoccurring news and it didn't help your case to shove your feelings in the back of your mind.

"Ready?" He asked as his gaze turned towards the red carpet. Heaving a heavy sigh, you nodded and murmured a 'yes' as a response.

As soon as the cameras started flashing, hundreds of photos of Tom and you being taken, you conjured a sweet little smile that the tabloids loved. You were always nervous when it came to these events. It was Tom's job to answer some of the questions journalists asked of him, which meant they were to ask about your relationship. It was becoming repetitive, making you feel uncomfortable. The questions themselves didn't bother you but repeating over and over again that the man you have fallen for is merely a friend, felt like a stab in your heart, each time you responded.

"Tom! Tom!" One of the reporters shouted his name and he led you to the side of the red carpet, halting right beside the metal cordons. Questions were flying around, photos had been taken, but you didn't concentrate. Your senses were heightened as Tom pulled you in his side, his arm now wrapped around your waist, gently, but firmly holding onto you. Looking up at him, you studied his face, his ice-blue eyes focusing on the reporter, an excited smile across his face. He seemed so relaxed, so collected, meanwhile even events after events you were still nervous. As though he could feel it, he turned to you with a soft, reassuring smile, giving you a nod, silently asking if you were alright. For others, the movement could have easily been missed, but to you, it was like an earthquake, shaking your heart, making you fall even deeper for him. In a reply, you nodded and offered him a smile as you squeezed his hand that rested on your waist.

"So, Tom, this might be a bit more personal, but everyone has been talking about the two of you," he started, and your eyes immediately darted towards the man. You knew the question, heard it a thousand times already, so you prepared your heart to give the same reply as always. 'We are just friends,' you repeated time after time, hoping they would finally understand and let you be, but they didn't seem to budge. "You have been friends for a long time, and your fans have been talking about how close the two of you have become. Do you think, maybe in the future, there's a possibility for romance to blossom?" He asked with an expectant expression, a sly smile in the corner of his lips.

"As we have said before," you spoke up, ready to reply as you always did, "we—"

"You never know what the future holds for you, there are many possibilities" Tom cut in with a mischievous smile, your eyes growing wide as you looked up at him. Tom chuckled at your expression as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. "Tell me I'm wrong," he arched a brow questioningly, his words starting your heart off at a faster pace, your cheeks feeling warmer under his intent gaze, those blue eyes you often found yourself lost in.

"Well—, I mean I can't argue with that statement," you replied, feeling slightly awkward. A confused smile started growing wider on your face as Tom led you away. "Why did you do that?" You asked as you finally stepped inside the building, his arm still resting around your waist as you headed towards a large room filled with all sorts of foods and drinks, people dancing in the middle, the dim lightning offering a rather intimate mood. "You just created even more gossip," you scolded him, but seemingly he didn't mind. He led you to a table where his name was printed on a nametag and pulled the chair out for you before he took his seat beside you.

"I didn't say anything," he smiled at you as innocently as he could manage, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

"You did. Exactly because you were so secretive, people will want to read between the lines. They will think there's more to us than friendship," you huffed as you hid your face in your palm and heaved a heavy sigh.

"And is that so bad?" He frowned, earning the same expression from you.

"What?" A silent scoff left your lungs. "What are you trying to say?"

"Is that such a big problem if people think we are together?" He asked, his confident tone stunning you.

"Of course, not. I don't care what rumours are being spread about me, but I don't want them to gossip about you," you reached for his hand on the table and wrapped your fingers around it, giving it a gentle squeeze. His expression stayed emotionless; you couldn't read him entirely, but you knew he seemed off.

"I will go grab us a drink," he said as he stood up, leaving you frowning. You weren't sure what you said that made him upset, and regardless of trying to put on a straight face, you knew he wasn't happy with your response.

You watched as he walked over to a small table filled with the most delicious looking cakes and a couple of bottles of champagne, ready for the guests before they brought out the main course. Tom grabbed a battle of champagne and two glasses, filling up both halfway, before he placed the battle back into an ice bucket.

"What is it?" You asked as he returned and gave you one of the glasses.

"What do you mean?" He asked, taking a seat beside you.

"We've known each other for quite a long time. I can read you like an open book. What's bothering you?" Trying to get him to open up, you shuffled closer to him, your chair scraping the floor, turning heads in your direction. "Oops," you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, earning a chuckle from Tom.

"Very subtle," he mocked you.

"Don't change the subject Mr. Hiddleston," you raised a questioning brow, a tiny smile hidden in the corner of your lips.

"Nothing is bothering me," he added, but your suspicious gaze didn't falter. "I'm being honest, darling," the sly little fox knew his nickname for you would make you soften up and he used every opportunity to say it when he felt cornered.

"Fine," you squinted. "But we aren't done! I'm not blind, I can see something is on your mind."

"Yes, ma'am, I can't wait for this conversation to come back around," he mocked you once again, making you huff as you gently punched his shoulder.

Throughout the night, said conversation was forgotten, the alcohol consumption rose, the amount of people dancing around the room grew, meanwhile others sat at their tables, trying to digest the previously served delicious meals. You couldn't deny that you had a good laugh with Tom and his co-stars from all sorts of movies he had been in. It felt like a little family, people coming together to just have a joyous time.

The way Tom smiled at his friends, praising each other, before turning to mock one another forced your eyes to rest on his excited features. He looked so alive, so happy and the feeling of the man you loved being in his element meant everything to you. Tom was radiating enthusiasm and you couldn't look away as you watched his ever-growing smile, his nose scrunched up at an unexpected subject, his head falling back as a loud laughter erupted from his lungs. He was always handsome, but when he was happy, it filled you up with a certain warmth that you couldn't explain. Like you always wanted to make him happy just to be able to see that cheerful smile spread across his face.

He turned to you, catching your gaze on him once again. His arm sneaked behind you, pulling you closer and leaning down to your ear. "You are staring at me again," you couldn't see it, but you could feel his smile spreading wider.

"I like to see you happy," you shrugged with a soft smile as you leaned back to be able to meet his gaze. His smile faltered, but his eyes softened.

"Dance with me," he said as he offered his palm to you, and you placed your hand in it.

"I take no responsibility for broken toes," you said with a silent chuckle as you followed him to the dancefloor.

"Don't worry, darling, it's worth the injury," he mirrored your expression as you stopped in the middle of the dance floor. A slow, romantic song started playing in the background, his arms finding their perfect position around your waist as yours sneaked around his neck.

It was a slow and peaceful dance, not requiring much knowledge and talent. You just enjoyed each other's presence, gazes meeting, smiles forming, swaying to the slow rhythm of the music. You didn't speak a word, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It never was with Tom. A soft smile, a quick glance, a simple gesture meant more than thousands of words when you were with him.

You laid your head against his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat, taking on a quicker pace just like yours did. "I miss you when you are not with me," he spoke for the first time as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. You didn't move away; his embrace was too comfortable, and you couldn't care about people watching you.

"I always miss you. You are the one travelling all the time after all," you chuckled lightly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"I could be only a mile away and I would still miss you," he replied as you pulled back a bit to meet his soft gaze, but there was no smile present across his handsome face. As the song finished, you found yourself standing in front of him, slightly confused about the conversation. "Do you want to go to the balcony? Have some fresh air?" He asked, taking on a more cheerful expression, but you knew him more than to believe it was genuine. In a response you nodded and linked your arm with his.

Following him through the sea of people, you finally arrived at the balcony, looking down to a smaller version of a park, a water fountain standing tall in its centre. You leaned against the rail as you watched the trees battling the silent wind, fallen leaves being blown across the walking path. Tom joined beside you, his eyes following the same direction as you did before they halted on your face. "You are being strange tonight," you spoke up, feeling his gaze resting on you before you turned to him, meeting his eyes.

"I'm just thinking," he added with a half-hearted smile.

"About?" You asked as you reached for his hand resting on the rail and placed yours on top of his. He turned his palm upside down and lifted your hand, hinting a small kiss on your knuckles as he heaved a heavy sigh. "Tom talk to me," you squeezed his fingers reassuringly, his eyes watching you, not leaving your gaze for a moment. "You have been rather quiet around me," you added.

His whole body turned to you, as though he was focusing his complete attention on you. Reaching towards you, he brushed your hair to the side, gently tucking it behind your ear. You leaned into the touch involuntarily, only realising your actions when he caressed your cheek with his thumb, before moving down and running it across your lips. The feeling burnt you, starting your mind off in a very dangerous territory, one that you have been avoiding. 'He is your friend' you tried to remind yourself. But once the tip of his thumb brushed along your lips once again, you couldn't stop yourself. Stepping forward, you placed your hands on his chest, steading yourself and rose on your tiptoes, pressing your lips against his.

Your own bravery surprised you, but Tom didn't seem affected. As soon as your lips met, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. He didn't hesitate, he wasn't surprised. He just held you, gently running his lips along yours, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. But as much as you wanted to enjoy the moment, realisation hit you. You were kissing your best friend. You gently pushed him away, stumbling back from the force, covering your mouth with your palm. "I'm so sorry," you breathed, panic rising in your chest. "I have no idea what happened, I don't know why I did that, I'm so sorry," your words were rushed, your heartbeat loudly pulsing in your ears.

But Tom's gaze twinkled. A soft, warm smile grew wider across his face as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. "I'm not," he said as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I've been wanting to kiss you," he breathed as he closed his eyes momentarily, slightly shaking his head. "I've been wanting to tell you how much I love you; I've been trying to gain the courage to say it out loud," he scoffed. "I'm a fool for dragging it out for so long, but I love you," his voice shook as he said the words, but his arms tightened around you, safely holding you against his chest. It took you a second to understand what he meant, that your feelings weren't unrequited, that he has been harbouring the same feelings you have.

A heavy sigh left your lungs, as though a weight fell off your chest. Your lips curved into a smile as you placed your hands on his cheeks, running the tip of your thumbs across his jawline. He mirrored your expression whilst leaning into your touch, planting a small kiss on your palm. "I love you too," you replied finally," the words rolling off the tip of your tongue easier than you expected. "I love you so much," you giggled, wanting to repeat the words over and over again, until you finally understood that it was real, that you weren't dreaming. "You never know what the future holds for you, huh?" You asked, repeating his words from earlier in the evening, earning a loud chuckle from him. "So, is this one of those many possibilities?" you raised a single brow.

"Could be. I have a couple more ideas," he said, his soft smile turning into a confident grin.

"You are terrible," you gently hit his chest as you grabbed his suit-jacket and pulled him down to you, meeting his lips halfway, smiling into the intimate moment you have been craving for so long.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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Taglists; Send me a message if you would like to be added :)

[lcvemalfcy]

Mosaic || D.M.

summary: the different ways you and draco have incorporated one another into each other’s daily lives

warnings: mentions of food, eating, germs ?

word count: 1k

a/n: got inspo from that one tiktok trend lolol hopefully the format of this isn’t too confusing

"human beings are a mosaic of everyone they've ever met. if you look close enough at a person you'll see all the pieces of everyone they've ever met incorporated into a beautiful and unique work of art. you are the living memory of every person that has ever mattered to you."

your hands were always decorated with rings.

in the fifth year, you noticed how draco started to accessorize his hands with them. you fell in love with the way the silver metal would shine in the sun and how they were so fun to play with and twist around his fingers whenever you were bored.

noticing your attraction to them, draco gave you one of his rings. the silver serpent ring with emerald embedded eyes gained a permanent spot on your middle finger and you developed an impressive ring collection since then.

whenever the homework load builds up or studying for exams becomes too stressful, draco plans a midnight trip to the kitchen.

this is because one night in the fourth year on exam week — you and draco were having a "study date." it was 1 am, none of you could understand the material and with the hours of relearning information building up your brains were now overflowing with new concepts you just couldn't grasp onto.

needing a break, you tried to convince draco to sneak out the common room with you to the kitchen. he was reluctant at first, but he eventually caved in and enjoyed roaming carelessly around the corridors with you.

sometimes draco will enter through the portrait hole after tickling the pear on the painting that hides the kitchen entrance just to see you already sitting there on the counter, lips around your fingers as you cleaned the leftover crumbs of your snack off your fingers.

draco was in your dorm hanging out with you when he noticed the pink, worn-out bunny slippers worn on both of your feet. there was never a day where you didn't wear them, and he wondered why you always had them on.

"y/n, why do you always have those slippers on?"

instead of giving him a simple answer, you suddenly went off about how dirty the floor was, covered in dust as well as crumbs left by others and how you would never allow your feet to get so dirty.

you truly despised the idea of getting into bed with dirty feet, allowing the floor germs to come in contact with your bed sheets. your solution? slippers.

ever since then, the thought of the dirty floor germs sitting on top of his bed sheets irked draco. that's when he went out and bought himself a pair, the pair which was now always seen on his feet when he was out of his school attire.

his friends would make fun of him for it, but he didn’t care. he wasn’t the one walking with cold feet on the bedroom or common room floor and he also wasn’t the one with dirty bed sheets. must suck for them.

if someone were to ask you what your favorite drink was besides butterbeer or pumpkin juice, you would always answer with green tea.

if you were being honest, you always hated green tea as a kid. draco on the other hand loved it. when you had told draco about your dislike for the tea, he was in shock. he was sure you just weren't brewing it right, how could someone not like his favorite tea?

he started listing the many benefits of green tea and even offered to make you some, he was committed to getting you to like it. intrigued by its benefits, you wanted to give it a try again.

he brewed the tea and brought the mug over to you. you gently grabbed it and took a sip of the warm liquid, surprised at its sweet taste. you actually liked it.

afterwards, draco taught you how to correctly brew it and it was now one of your favorites.

every morning, draco wakes up exactly one hour and twenty minutes before breakfast. twenty minutes to get ready and an hour of free time to walk around and enjoy the morning atmosphere.

it started when he accidentally fell asleep in your dorm one evening and woke up to you scolding him for "sleeping in so late."

he looked at the clock to see there was still an hour left before breakfast began. "it's so early, y/n! what are you on about? let me sleep some more!"

unfortunately for him, you continued to bother him, throwing pillows at him and snatching the blanket off of his body in attempt to get him up. no longer being able to sleep under these circumstances, he finally got out of bed.

after getting ready, the two of you went for a stroll to the black lake. you told him how you did this every morning, explaining to him that it was nice to have time for yourself and to not have to immediately rush to class right after waking up.

he wasn't going to lie, the walk was very calming and he enjoyed it. after that morning, he decided he was going to start going for a walk every morning as well.

occasionally the two of you would go on walks together, but most of the time the two of you just wanted some time to just enjoy yourselves alone.

growing up side by side, it was no surprise to see little bits of each other in one another. you found it amusing to catch draco unintentionally mimicking your habits, and the same could be said for him towards you.

draco thought it was adorable to see how much of an influence he had on you and how you easily picked up on his mannerisms.

there was something precious about it — knowing you held a special piece in someone’s mosaic. who knew these small habits of your everyday lives could mean something more.

tags: @sfdlm @marrymetheonott @wh0re4blaise @axgelre @dracomalfoys-wh0re

click here to be added to my taglist!

[fbfh]

light up the dark [VI] - leo x reader

genre: mid adventure domestic fluff overture, romance, smutty lemony bit towards the end

word count: 3k

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: very much so, yes

warnings: magic manipulation powers, feelings are hard and weird and scary, some innuendos, the phrase hot gusher out of context, the word dirty talk, trying to "proposition [someone] in front of two for one cookie crisp", brief credit card theft, jason thinks ketchup is spicy and gets clowned on for it, one use of the word lube in reference to mechanical lubricant, shirtless leo remember that one piece of shirtless leo viria art?????? remember the caption?????, your facade is beginning to crack, deadpan joke about being dead in space, making out, whole lotta sexual tension, brief mention of a boner, teeny tiny bit of grinding, getting interrupted, c*lypso

summary: after an extensive shopping trip, you, Leo, and Jason settle into your airbnb and wait for the others to arrive. Jason takes a nap, and Leo helps you dye your hair. You return the favor by helping him make dinner which leads to two things; a well timed boner, and a poorly timed visitor.

listen to: power and control - marina, 100 bad days - ajr, all I ask - adele

a/n: let's play spot the zack and cody reference within the first paragraph

also surprise the series isn't dead!! a shock to all but mostly me!!

as with all smexy smutty nsfw content, all characters are aged up to 18+

Standing in front of a wall of hair dye taller than you are should have been exciting. It would have been, except for the fact that all the colors were various shades of honey mist auburn. You really don’t want to have to make a separate trip to a beauty store for hair dye. Your eyes land on a firetruck red box, and gratefully, you realize you won’t have to.

“Perfect,” you muse, throwing it into your cart, along with the other stuff on the list you’d divided between you. You grab a few other things from the beauty section while you’re there; some makeup, eyeliner, a glass nail file, and a tiny pair of oil slick cuticle scissors.

Nearby is a guy a little older than you in a varsity hoodie and sweatpants squinting at a two in one shampoo label.

Perfect, you think, beginning to approach. You work your magic - literally - and within a few minutes you have his credit card. It takes way less time than it used to. You also didn’t have to smile and flirt nearly as much as you used to. You’re relieved that you don’t have to fake enthusiasm around rich douchebags the way you used to, and a new inky drop of fear begins to stain the corners of your mind. You can’t even bear to admit it to yourself, but you’re kind of scared. Before you can begin to question if you know what love is and if you’re capable of experiencing it without the influence of your divine heritage, you shove it all away. Not the place, not the time. You speed up a little, passing an endcap of candy, and knock a box into your cart.

On the other side of the store, Jason checks off items from their half of the list as Leo tosses items in the cart, talking along the way. Of course, you came up in conversation rather quickly.

“She’s… a real piece of work.” Jason says, treading lightly.

“You said it, man,” Leo agrees, sliding a pack of coke onto the bottom of the cart. Jason thinks for a moment before continuing.

“She seems to,” he tries to figure out how to phrase their dynamic, “not hate you as much as everyone else.” Leo laughs at the accuracy of the statement. He can tell Jason has something else to say, so he’s quiet while putting paper plates and napkins into the cart.

“Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Just… don’t let her hurt you, okay?”

He stops for a second. He’s so lucky to have a friend like Jason, one that will genuinely look out for him, but sometimes people caring for him still catches him off guard. Really off guard. With no idea how to begin to verbalize that complicated mess, he takes a split second to collect himself.

“Thanks, man.”

His smile is sincere.

Don’t let her hurt you. Can he just do that? Not let someone hurt him? Especially someone like you. He’s only had a few long term crushes before, all just out of reach and only getting further away. Only one had amounted to something - not that he could call what he had with Calypso ‘something’. She certainly wouldn’t. He looks around, trying to shake off the sting. He starts to get that unsettled, itchy feeling when he focuses on stuff like that for too long.

‘At least I got some good stories out of it,’ he thinks, messing with the back of his hair and fixing his hoodie strings.

“Here.”

He turns around, coming face to face with you, holding out a box very close to him.

“Hot gusher.” You say softly. What? His cheeks heat up, pulse speeding up suddenly. He glances at Jason, who’s at the other end of the aisle asking an employee something. Are you implying something? Are you trying to proposition him in front of two for one cookie crisp? He’s unable to look away from your gaze, intense and striking. You couldn’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean. Your fingers brush and he’s struggling to find an elegant way to say ‘hey, maybe the grocery store isn’t an ideal place for dirty talk’.

“W- uh, sorry, what?” he says, laughing in an equally hushed tone, needing to make sure you meant what he thought you did. You glance down, then back up.

“They’re spicy gushers. I thought you’d like them.” the feeling is gone in a split second, the same time it took to arrive, and is replaced with relief. He looks down at the box, realizing he’d taken it from you at some point. He laughs at the ridiculousness of his previous panic.

“Thanks,” he says, a reflective smile on his face.

You realize how comforted you are to see him smile, really smile, when you catch yourself having to keep a neutral face. One of the first times your resting bitch face has been intentional. Before you can say you’re welcome, Jason comes back over. You hand him the card.

“Pin number’s 0401.”

They both stare at you, skimming the label of a granola bar, completely unperturbed.

“How…”

“Credit card theft.”

The logical part of Leo’s brain starts to speak up, telling him to raise his guard, that his stomach should be twisting. If you can just take someone’s credit card without a hint of remorse, who knows what the hell kind of damage you could do to him if he got closer to you? And he really wants to get closer to you.

“Oh,” you pull a small pop top tube out of your cart and hand it to Leo, “this is for you too. You know, since you don’t like coffee,” you trail off as he reads the label. Caffeine and electrolyte drink tablets, red berry rampage flavor. He looks up at you, feeling warm and… something else, something ineffable, at the gesture.

You stare at each other, eyes locked, surprised at the strangely intimate feeling stirring in both of you.

“What are those?” Jason asks, snapping you out of whatever that was.

“Spicy gushers,” Leo says, smiling again, “I didn’t even know they made those.”

“Hot mango,” Jason reads from the side of the box, “that actually sounds pretty good.”

“No way dude, you can’t handle spicy food.” He starts to protest, and Leo continues, “You think ketchup is spicy!” He looks shocked.

“Okay, that was one time! It was a weird brand and there was way too much pepper in it!”

You bite back a giggle at their bickering, taking note of how much better Leo seems to be doing and finding surprising comfort in their banter.

It doesn’t take long to get to the airbnb and get set up. You all dump your bags in your rooms, bring in the groceries, and shove everything into the cabinets in a reasonably organized manner.

Jason heads upstairs to unpack and call Piper, announcing a few minutes later that they should be here in less than two hours.

“Perfect,” you pull out your hair dye from the last bag. It’s not exactly the manic panic wildfire red you’d initially wanted, but it’s definitely better than nothing. You stare at the box for a second, then up at Leo who’s trying to get one more bag of chips to fit in with the others.

“Hey,” you say, just loud enough to get his attention, “do you… can you get the back of my head?” He looks at you, questioning, and you hold up the box dye. He smiles, once again noting your softened edges around him.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and minutes later you’re in the bathroom, adorned in a big tee shirt covered in all your previous hair colors. He’s staring at your shirt, eyes dancing over the swirls and splatters of color. It reminds him of a painting he’d seen once, unable to remember the name.

You shake the bottle, skimming the instructions again, then start speaking to him, eyes still on the box.

“Take a section of hair, about this much,” you demonstrate, holding out a section of hair, “rub in the dye like this…”

You hand him the second bottle of red dye, and he starts on the back. His fingertips start separating out a section of your hair, and you still, a shiver running up your spine. He hesitates for a moment, then continues, and you hope he hadn’t noticed. His breath fans your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating off his chest. Your lungs are shallow suddenly, squeezed tight like a bouquet clutched in a shaking hand. You find it almost impossible to focus on dying the front half of your hair.

You don’t want it to stop, you realize. His fingertips dancing along your hair, the glimpses of his incredibly focused face in the bathroom mirror, the way he’ll gently turn your head to make sure he didn’t miss a spot.

“Shit,” he leans back, hunching forward. You look behind you, eyes landing immediately on the spot of red dye on his shirt.

“Shit,” you echo. He looks back at you, waiting to see how he’ll react.

“Oh, it’s all good - no worries. I already have a ton of motor oil and lube - lubricant… machine grade, petroleum based engine lubricant-” he laughs, “stains on this shirt anyway. Don’t sweat it.”

You almost laugh. A giggle bubbles up from your chest and stomach, but catches in your throat. Before it can come out, he slips off his dye stained gloves, and tugs off his dye stained shirt from the back. It seems to happen in slow motion. In a mere moment, your eyes engraving every detail, every line and curve and freckle to memory.

There’s really no delicate way to put it; he’s fucking jacked. Deceptively so. You’re frozen in place, cheeks flushed. You suddenly wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in his arms, held so close to him.

You snap yourself out of the thought, all of that occurring in just a few seconds. He leans past you, setting the dye stained shirt carefully on the counter, glancing at you intensely.

“Are you checking me out?”

You make yourself roll your eyes and turn away, replying, “I’m sure you’d love that.”

Angled away from him, you momentarily reprimand yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and mouthing oh my god. You turn back to him, not recalling the last time you had to deliberately keep up your aloof front around someone like this.

“So, are we finishing my hair or just gonna leave it like this?” you ask rhetorically, motioning to your half done hair.

He watches you do this, confirming his suspicion that you’re really not as cold as you let on. A smile blooms on his face, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as… cute as that.

“Yeah,” he replies, slipping his gloves back on. The things you do around him seem to mean more now. He notices the way your eyes flutter closed for a moment when he plays with your hair, working in the dye, or the way you still for a split second when he gets a little too close to the side of your face, checking that he didn’t miss a spot.

He doesn’t want this to end either. But eventually, your hair is fully saturated with dye, the timer on your phone counting down slowly. There’s still some dye left. He sits on the closed toilet.

“Your turn. Do me.”

“What?” you laugh.

“Yeah, a little streak - up here.” He leans forward, sectioning off a part of his hair.

“Seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to match…” he muses. Your eyes get this dreamy look for the briefest second, then you’re turning back to shake the bottle some more.

“I guess… I mean there’s too much dye to throw out, we might as well do something with it.”

It’s his turn, now, to feel the warmth from your body, your hands running through his hair. His eyes want to close, and bask in the feeling, but he refuses to miss out on the view of you so soft, so close to him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough for either of you, and much too soon you’re pulling away and throwing away the gloves and empty bottles.

By the time you finish cleaning up and throw out the garbage, it’s time to rinse your hair. Hanging your head over the tub, you let the water flow over your head until Leo tells you it’s running clear. He does the same, and you point out too late that he only had to rinse the dyed part, not his whole head.

You both laugh as you wrap a towel around your hair, teaching him how to do the same.

“Sweet, I’ve always wondered how to do the spa snail towel thing.”

“The spa snail towel thing?” You try in vain to fight another laugh.

“Yeah, you know… cause it looks like a snail, and they do it at spas…”

“Oh… my gods…” you laugh, exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall, “I”m going to get changed.” you call.

“Am I wrong?” he asks after you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He heads to his room to do the same.

A few minutes later, you’re carefully pulling on your top, when he calls through your door.

“Hey, I’m gonna be in the kitchen, come down when you’re ready.”

“...Okay,” you agree.

You check your outfit in the mirror. You can still feel his fingers brushing your neck. Your head tilts at the memory. Snapshots of him pulling off his shirt in slow motion flash in your memory.

You realize how much of an affect the last hour has had on you. Your stomach drops.

You can’t possibly be falling in love. No way. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

You’re not the falling in love type. At most, you’d hook up with someone a couple times on the rare occasion you thought they were hot, too.

Oh, you decide, that must be what’s happening. I just think he’s hot. I mean, duh. Of course he’s hot. Did you see him in there?

That’s all you have to do; hook up with him once, maybe twice, then you’ll get over it. It’ll make his ex jealous, and they’ll get back together. It will go just like it always has. Then you can move on to whatever the next crisis is.

You take a breath, resolving to follow the plan, exit your room. You throw yours and Leo’s old clothes and towels in the hamper, and head down stairs. He greets you, and pulls you into the kitchen.

“I have something to ask you.” Your brow furrows.

“...Okay.”

He takes your hand in his, the other behind his back.

“Will you…” he looks at you, gaze piercing, “...be my sous-chef.” he finishes, holding out an apron, matching his.

You study him, a hopeful, surprisingly confident look on his face. His hair is still damp. You’re sure yours is, too. You wait a beat, before replying slowly.

“Yes. But I’m not wearing that.”

“That’s fair,” he says, setting the apron on the counter, “I will have to dock your pay for being out of uniform, though.” You let out a puff of air from your nose, biting back a laugh. He pulls out a skillet, bowl, and oil, and begins preheating the pan. You watch him pull out more ingredients, and begin to set things up.

“Right now we’re waiting on that,” he says nodding at the stove. You nod, inspecting a bottle of seasoning he’d pulled out, and settle into a comfortable silence.

He thinks back to the last time you had time like this - playing twenty questions at your apartment. A pit forms in his stomach as he remembers the conversation veering to Calypso, as it always seemed to. He shoves it away. Not this time. He steadies his nerves. “So, you want to play twenty questions?”

You agree, coming closer to him.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Your eyes flick over to the clock. You have a solid hour, hour and a half before the others are supposed to get here. You stare at him, brushing hair out of his face.

“I’d be dead in the endless void of deep space.”

He cracks a smile at how on brand that response was. Your fingertips trail down to his neck, rethen shoulder. The smile doesn’t leave his face, not completely. Your heart beats loudly in anticipation.

“My turn. Do you want to make out?”

His head snaps up, eyes locked with yours, trying to tell if you’re serious or if this is another example of your distinct sense of humor. But he can tell it’s not - there’s something a little too close to the surface in your eyes.

“Yeah. Yes, totally-”

You grab his collar, pulling him in for a kiss, and leaning back against the empty counter.

His lips are soft and warm, moving gracefully with yours. You barely register that the first kiss ends before you dive back in. You angle your head, deepening the kiss. He plants one hand on the counter, the other making its way to the small of your back. You flick your tongue past his lips, and his grip on your waist tightens. You clutch his collar tighter, other hand moving through his hair, still damp at the ends.

You can tell he’s enjoying what you do by the way his mouth quirks up ever so slightly at the corners, and by the way he starts to harden beneath you. You roll your hips into his, and he falters, sighing, breath fanning your lips. Not quite a moan, but you’re getting there.

The front door opens before you can.

Leo pulls away reluctantly, very reluctantly, and turns off the stove.

“That was fast,” he says, panting slightly and still very flushed. They’re not supposed to be here for a while, still.

A tall girl enters the kitchen, dark strawberry blonde hair pulled over her shoulder. She looks between you and Leo with a sour expression on her face.

“Calypso,” Leo says.

"...Hi."

[maribatshipper]

Miraculous Damienette Reader Insert

A girl with H/C, H/L, H/S hair walks into College Françoise Dupont, looking for a certain bluenette, her E/C eyes glimmering as she sees the bluebell-eyed teen in one of the classes. The bell rings & she walks into the classroom & runs straight for the other girl.

"NETTIEEEEE!" She exclaims, surprising the bluenette.

The redheaded teacher asks, "Who are you? This-"

The girl laughs, "Oh, I am Marinette's cousin Y/N who just came back from Australia!"

Suddenly, a girl who's hair reminds Y/N of a horse's butt smiles, "Oh, I remember Australia. I went there last year & had some of that deliciously sweet stuff they called Vigimite."

Y/N laughs her butt off. The girl looks offended.

"That is the funniest thing I've heard in weeks! You can't even pronounce it!" Y/N laughs.

"Hey, Why are you laughing at Lila? She was just trying to connect with you!" A brunette with glasses frowns at Y/N.

"Because, this Lila girl obviously has never been to Australia. Vegemite is certainly not sweet. It is a savoury spread the locals put on bread. Next thing she's gonna be telling me is that they ride Kangaroos to school & the Koala Bear is actually a bear & they throw a shrimp on the Barbie! It's not a shrimp, it's a prawn! Kangaroos are wild animals & it's only called a Koala BEAR because it looks like a living Teddy Bear!" Y/N exclaims.

"N/N, calm down." Marinette sighs.

Y/N nods, "Sorry. Oh, you said something really important on the phone, Nettie!"

Marinette blushes, "It's nothing, really."

"We'll talk about it on the way to my apartment!" Y/N smiles.

Lila starts crying, catching Y/N's attention.

"Why are you so mean?" Lila cries.

Y/N goes full savage mode.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't realise saying hello to my Cousin makes you blush!" She sasses.

The brunette girl glares at Y/N, "How dare you hurt Lila's feelings!"

Marinette sighs, "Alya..."

Y/N cuts her cousin off & laughs, "Seriously? If she's all upset because I love my cousin, then her family hates her, which I'm not surprised with the outfit she's wearing, & don't get me started on her hair! Are you trying to look like a dog's hind leg? You'd think that a girl who's on the magazines would at least model good clothes, & know how to MODEL! Honestly, you'd think Agreste would pick a good muse. I've seen 27 different kids here with much better fashion sense than you!"

Everyone gasps at Y/N's statements about Lila. Lila ends up crying her eyes out, but Y/N keeps smirking.

"I think you've caused enough trouble, Y/N." Alya sneers.

Y/N glares, "Like all of you have caused trouble for Marinette?" in a deathly serious voice.

Marinette hides under the table. If there is anything she has learned from the family reunions, it's that you do NOT get Y/N mad.

"You know, Marinette can sue the lot of you with what you've done. I've done my research on the lot of you. You, Alya! Your blog is crap! All it's used for is spreading Miss Rossi's lies. You call yourself a truth-seeker but you only see what you want to see." Y/N hisses.

Alya goes to object when Y/n gives her a look that can shut up politicians.

"You, Max! You believed a serviette-"

Marinette interrupts, "We call them napkins here."

Y/N continues, "A napkin could gouge out your eye! Dude, you're wearing glasses! Unless the paper had acid on it, the only thing it could've hurt is your cheek, glasses, or forehead! Use that brain you were given!" She turns to the Teacher, "Bustier, you make Marinette do all the work keeping your pupils in place, when that is your job! She's been doing everything except teaching the class. My cousin is spread as thin as Vegemite should be, & you all expect her to do more than her fair share! & don't even get me started on the texts I've seen!"

Marinette's eyes widen in shock.

"Did you say texts?" Marinette whispers.

Suddenly, a purple butterfly flies into the room & lands on Y/N's belt, absorbing it as a neon butterfly symbol appearing over her face.

"Des-"

"I'mma stop you right there, Moth-butt. YOU are one of the reasons I'm mad, so I suggest you remove this little insect before I crush YOU like one. NOW!"

The class stares in shock for a while before Y/N falls against one of the desks, the butterfly symbol disappearing & the butterfly forms again to fly away when Y/N grabs it, holds it by both wings with both hands & rips it apart, killing it.

"May that be a lesson to that man." Y/N smirks, "Now, I'm taking Marinette to my place & you can bet that your life is about to become so much harder! Somewhere out there is a tree that's working tirelessly to supply you all with oxygen. Go find it & apologise! Let's go Nettie."

Y/N grabs Marinette's hand & walks away.

***

"Now that that's out of the way, What's this about a boyfriend, Nettie?"

Marinette's a blushing mess.

"You don't have to answer my questions right now, but be careful in Paris, Ladybug." Y/N smirks.

Marinette exclaims, "What!? No! I'm- I'm not-"

Y/N laughs, "Whatever you have that fools all of Paris, even the world, doesn't work on your cousin who designed supersuits. There is also E's influence."

Marinette sighs, "How?"

Y/N ignores her question.

"Speaking of which, What Do You Think You're Doing?!"

The slightly older teenager instantly switches to lecture mode, whacking Marinette with newspaper.

"You taught me everything you know, which helped me with E, & I watched you with pride as you impress Agreste with your hat & created the album cover of Jagged Stone that hits the top of the charts like a high note, & you go running around Paris rooftops in a Polk-a-dot spandex ONESIE?! I'd think you'd at least get a decent supersuit! No more! We're going to design you a REAL suit in my office! No cousin of mine is going to be running around Paris in PJS!"

Thoroughly intimidated, Marinette stares at Y/N in shock. She barely sees this woman, & out of everyone in Paris, the family that she rarely sees figures out her identity! She just keeps staring shocked while Y/N drags her to a tall office with many supersuits lined on the walls, then takes her measurements.

"I... I don't know how you found out-" Marinette starts.

Y/N cuts her off, "I'm not going to tell anyone, Nettie. I've seen your fights against the Akumas. You're in a defensive battle, & need to keep your identity secret, even from your parents. Believe me, I can keep secrets, & I can't even tell you why."

That would be telling. Marinette knows Y/N used to be a superhero fan when she was younger, & it seems to have carried into her adolescence.

"That's not it N/N, I don't think my suit can change. I didn't design it, it's magic." Marinette frowns.

Y/N pulls out pieces of paper, "That would explain your powers, including why it took my 10 tries to recognise you. You & your partners must have Perception filters. You & Cat Noir's powers do seem to be in line with luck. Clearly you have some influence over your powers, so maybe that could extend to your suit? I mean, I did see that Pharaoh report. It's obvious your powers are older than you. Maybe even inheritable, & I doubt your predecessors wore spandex PJs."

Suddenly, there's a doorbell ring.

"Who's visiting?" Y/N asks.

She walks towards the door to see a young man with green eyes and dark hair.

"Damian Wayne? What do you want this time, Demon?" Y/N scoffs.

Marinette gapes. Her cousin knew him?

"Wondering why my girlfriend wasn't at home but was here." Damian scoffs.

Y/N turns to Marinette, who's smiling sheepishly.

"He's your boyfriend?! Now I feel kinda feel bad for putting a prank in his room. Oh, uh... Don't go in your room for the next 2 weeks, Demon. Does he know?"

Damian glares at Y/N while Marinette nods.

"Good, I can talk about it with him in the room. We'll design anyway, & you start practicing manipulating the suit’s design in private. In 2 months from now, I want to invite Ladybug to E's latest collection first hand, as some of the pieces have been inspired by her & her partners, & I do not want my cousin showing up looking like she put on an oversized toddler onesie, embarrassing herself, E, & I. If you can't change it, we'll make an oversuit with some of your boyfriend's tech. Maybe a jacket or armour. You'll look amazing!" Y/N natters.

Damian gives Marinette a deadpan look.

"What is she talking about?"

Marinette sighs, "She knows I'm Ladybug."

Damian sighs in annoyance.

"Oh please! Like it was that difficult to find out who the Batfamily was, Robin. The entire world is full of idiots. The only ones that figure it out & go public about the info end up dead. Also, I'm your family, Nettie. I'm supposed to protect you. But if your out there saving Paris, I can't do that. Just be careful, Nettie."

Marinette's eyes widen with an idea. Damian notices.

"No, Angel."

Y/N giggles at the nickname given to Marinette, remembering Damian's nickname.

"Opposites really do attract."

***

Ladybug is now seen swinging from rooftop to rooftop with a jacket with a hood that goes over her ears, with the design "La Mode" printed on the back, a new Fox hero, Kitsune, beside her, E/C eyes shining.

(Not my picture, I just googled it. Add a bit more armour on it.)

"You ready, Kitsune?" Ladybug asks.

Kitsune nods, "Ready as I'll ever be, Buginette!"

[fairestwriting]

title: a treasure hunt of sorts

word count: 2696

summary: Malleus had been gifting Ellis gems, recently, so many that they were piling up and he wouldn't know what to do with them even if he actually understood the meaning behind the gift. After some "careful consideration", he decides to give something back.

commissioned by @nymphgrotto​ , also available on ao3 here ! tysm for the commission, i hope you enjoy it!

my guidelines for commissions are here, in case anyone else is interested

Everything in the Ramshackle dorm building creaks, floorboards and doors and ceiling threatening to collapse in a way that Ellis somehow had just grown used to. Door shut behind him, he walks noisy steps towards the lounge, leaving the beautiful night outside, and placing a red gem the size of his palm on the coffee table.

Another one. The fifth one he’d gotten this week, and they were only halfway through it.

The gems gather on top of the surface like freshly picked fruits, full of color and life and almost glaring at him in their little shiny pile. He slides the blazer off, tossing it somewhere — Grim was asleep at this point, it’s fine if he wasn’t being the best influence — and lets himself collapse on the plush stuffing of the couch.

The gems were a gift from Malleus Draconia — A name that strikes fear into many students’ hearts, for reasons Ellis just couldn’t see. They had met by chance outside Ramshackle, Malleus was taking a nightly stroll and they just ended up chatting for a reason or another. He found out bits and pieces of information every time they saw each other. That he liked abandoned buildings and the night sky, that he was very knowledgeable about gargoyles and owned a tamagotchi, then his name that he had been refusing to actually tell. They hit it off and became friends. Malleus was a person Ellis liked to be around.

And a person he had an exponentially growing crush on, he admits, but just to himself for now. He sighs again, head in his hands. His crush, putting a different precious gem in his hand every night. It should have been a dream scenario, but he just doesn’t get it. The way Malleus does it is so unaffected, they couldn’t be heartfelt gifts at all. It looked like he was lending him money.

Maybe that’s what’s happening, he thinks tiredly, looking around the inside of the building. He had been cleaning up for most of the semester, it managed to look decent now, if only a little like somewhere a grandmother would live, but that was cozy in its own way. The outside was still screwed up, though, so maybe Malleus trying to help him with repairs? Ellis stares at the pile of gems, they stare back. With the amount all of them were worth, they were probably enough to cover all the costs needed to polish Ramshackle’s outside, so maybe…

...he really didn’t want his crush, a guy so lofty and admirable, to think he just couldn’t do something like that by himself, though. The very thought of it makes him uneasy.

He sighs. Maybe he should talk it out with someone, he was burning up his brain cells just thinking by himself like this. He scrolls through names in his contact list before stopping on Cater’s. Cater had mentioned talking to Malleus before, right? And he didn’t seem scared. Plus he may have been aware of Ellis’ crush, even half so — Though that’s sort of embarrassing, it’s not like he’d been trying to hide.

But it’s okay, the phone makes its dialing noise. “Hey, Cater?”

“Ellis! Hi hi.” Cater chimes from the other side of the line. Ellis could hear ruffling even through the phone, maybe he just moved around on his bed. “What’s up!”

“Malleus.” Ellis starts, leaning back against the couch. Thank god it was so comfy, right. “Has he ever brought you, um… gems and stuff? Like really expensive looking things?”

There’s silence.

“Uh, no?” Cater responds mid a confused laugh. “...why are you asking that? We don’t really talk.”

“I don’t know.” Ellis admits, shaking his head in defeat. “He’s been giving me gems all week and I don’t get it. I thought maybe you knew something since you’ve talked to him...once? That’s more than most people here, anyways.”

Cater hums, a short pause. “Well, I really can’t tell what that means.”

Another sigh, another feeling of defeat. Ellis sinks on the couch.

“Ugh. Do you think he feels bad about the state of the dorm or something? I like gifts as much as everyone else, but…” He sighs. “I just wanna know what’s going on in his head.”

“Y’know, they’re still gems, I don’t get why you’re complaining. And you’re so curious about him too.”

“I just wanna know.” He huffs, face feeling hot. “I feel bad I’m not giving him anything back, is all. Gifts are nice but this is too much.”

“Ehh, you wanna one up Malleus?” He asks, voice incredulous. Do I wanna do that? Ellis finds himself wondering. Is that what this is about?

“I mean, I might as well try, right.” He says. He thinks of it as a joke, but it might not really be one. Looking up to Malleus all the time felt… kind of lame, sometimes, Ellis wanted him to look up to him too. His heart feels heavy thinking about it — But he does.

“Okay, that’s just crazy.” Cater laughs from the other side of the line, mixing with the ruffling sound again.

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe.” He laughs back, but, again, he’s actually thinking about it. He can’t help but think about it. What if he actually impressed Malleus this time? He wonders how he’d look.

They say their goodbyes after more idle chatter and Ellis has his flushed cheeks on his hands, pulling his knees closer to his body. He’s tried doing something impressive before, though it usually just ends up going humorously wrong… but, but, maybe this time it’d work. He stares at the gems on the coffee table. These could be the clue he needed.

A wide-eyed Malleus comes to mind. If things went like that, maybe the messages he’d been wanting to send with all the casual affection would get through. Even if Malleus didn’t like him back — That was a scary thought, but he knew it wouldn’t ruin their friendship, Malleus wasn’t like anyone else — he’d been wanting to tell him in a way where he could actually understand, visualize how deep his feelings had been running. This seemed like the perfect chance.

He dreams of emeralds in a treasure room that night.

. . .

He knew that this, at least, was something Malleus would like — Ellis can’t help but giggle in excitement while he drags him around the woods, clutching at his hand, hearing the crunching of leaves under their shoes and the subtle howling of the wind.

“So, tonight,” He introduces, voice chimy and full of energy. Malleus is standing right behind him in his towering glory. His stare is mostly blank, but Ellis somewhat knows how to decode it, and he can see a glint of curiosity there. They stop in front of an assortment of rocks that made up something looking like a gate. “I was thinking we could go looking for gems in this little cave? I heard from some guys that it has a lot of interesting stuff inside!”

Some guys was a chain of information that started with Rook, who had been doing god knows what in the cave, but what mattered now is that Ellis would go there, and he would find something that would blow Malleus away.

“A cave,” Malleus repeats, blinking. His long hair sways with the wind, lime green glow emitted from his eyes — He did things to his heart, honestly, even just being there — as he looks at Ellis with amusement. “Is that… a common outing for your culture, Child of Man?”

“I mean, not really? But I like collecting things.” He says, a bit sheepish as they begin to walk inside. It’s dark, but that’s an issue easily solved by flicking his flashlight on. “And I thought you might like this.”

Malleus chuckles, and that does more to his heart than him just standing here. “I see,” He says, the amusement visible. Ellis can’t help the excited smile beginning to show up on his face. This was it. “I do think it could be interesting.”

“Yeah!” He chimes. Shining the light forwards, he inspects the path in front of them as they walk further away from the entrance — It was safe, right? A lot of people seemed to have been there, plus it wasn’t exactly hard to move inside, the ground wasn’t as rocky as the walls “I heard they have gems deeper inside? Uh, it might be a little creepy for a bit, though.”

Malleus hums. The glow of his eyes shows up more at every step they take towards the inner parts of the cave, shrouded in darkness. Looks magical, Ellis’ brain unhelpfully reminds him, majestic, beautiful.

(He needed to get that confession out already, and yet…)

“I’m not displeased with this place, though.” Malleus’ voice makes a light echo. “It reminds me of home in a way.”

“Home? Like in the Valley of Thorns?” He asks, wincing when he steps against what seemed to be a tree branch, cracking it into two. How do things like that end up here, anyway?

“It’s a very rocky scenery. Tall mountains and thorn bushes, dark almost all year long.” Malleus explains. “I remember seeing it through my room’s window.”

“You know, that’s kind of cool in a way, I’ve never been somewhere like that.” He comments, thumb resting over the flashlight’s switch. He feels fidgety trying to visualize the Valley of Thorns in his mind, then briefly entertaining the thought of actually being there, with him too… “Is the palace all dark too?”

“Darkness is associated with royalty, so naturally it is.” He speaks. There’s a hint of nostalgia in his voice, almost. It’s strangely warm thinking of a smaller Malleus walking around a big, imposing dark castle, and still making all those sweet childhood memories there. It’s a testament to Malleus himself, maybe. The contrast between the imposing exterior and the softer interior. “It's tall, built in black bricks a long time ago, surrounded by thorn bushes…”

“You should bring me there one day.” Ellis suggests. His voice comes out sweet, it always does — And he hopes Malleus can notice why, he wants him to. But he doesn’t expect it at this point.

(Because if there’s one thing about Malleus’ he’s learned, it’s that genius or not, everything just flew right over his head, and flirting with him was a battle you lost before you even started fighting.)

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” Malleus says mid a chuckle, and his heart flutters. Oh to have a tour around Malleus’ hometown. Maybe there wasn’t much more to see at the place than thorn bushes, but Ellis thought about it insistently anyways. The things that made it unique, and the things about it that Malleus carried over. It’s insistent curiosity and his equally insistent crushing.

He glances forward as he smiles, recalling what he’d been told about the cave. They should be getting to the part with the cool rocks (Cater’s words, not his, maybe not even Cater’s either, since he got that from Ace who got it from someone else… you know how it is) now, Ellis is excited. He’s read up a little bit on gems before doing this. Surely Malleus would be caught off guard by that too, if he was interested in them, then they could choose one to bring home, and it’d be like jewelry shopping, kind of, maybe…

But jewelry stores don’t have swarms of bats in it, and caves do — And in they come, screechy noises and motion blur, and Ellis wasn’t thinking about the presence of bats at all, so he completely flips out, jumping in shock with a yelp and dropping the flashlight.

Dropping himself, actually, tripping on a damned rock and almost falling on top of Malleus as he hears the crack of his light falling, rolling somewhere he couldn’t see.

“Careful, Child of Man—”

Ellis blinks, looking around to try and find that light, but it’s nowhere to be seen — Not that he could see anything, the place was shrouded in darkness now — and his breath quickens with panic, damn it this wasn’t what…

“The flashlight?” Ellis asks, voice frantic. “Damn it, I can’t see it, I…”

Malleus’ eyes are still glowing green.

“I’m guessing you can’t see in the dark?”

“No?” He sputters. What, now he could see in the dark too? Malleus’ abilities are usually interesting to hear about, but now… “Ugh, the flashlight…”

“It’s not anywhere near us.” He informs unhelpfully. “Fallen from a drop. Perhaps I should guide us back.”

He sighs, heavy and tired. Great, there went his plans, everything down the drain again. Usually he could just laugh something like this off, but…

Maybe he had higher hopes for tonight.

“Yeah, I guess.” Ellis mumbles. “Sorry, in the end we couldn’t really do anything cool.”

“We still have time for a stroll near the woods, don’t we?” He can’t see Malleus’ face, exactly, just the outline of his eyes dotting the black dye, but with the way they move he guesses he may have tilted his head. “And I’ve actually enjoyed visiting this cave, short as our outing was.”

“...yeah, b-but I wanted to impress you.” His face feels hot, mostly with shame, the stutter comes with the blurting out of the words. He hates being upset like this, and yet— “You’re always the one doing cool things, disappearing in thin air and leaving fireflies behind, bringing me all that stuff… I wanted to do it too, I guess, especially with you bringing me all those gems for reasons I still don’t know why. I wanted you to… l-like me more, I guess, because I really like you.”

Too many words. He feels his core burn, but they’d been spinning around in his mind for so long now, at some point it was meant to come out. At least, even if Malleus hated that, he wouldn’t…

“Child of Man,” He speaks, voice clear and blank after a pause. There it comes, Ellis thinks dejectedly, though he doesn’t know exactly what bad thing he’s expecting. “Ellis.”

But that’s his name. His agape mouth closes. Was it that bad? One might worry his heartbeat would start echoing into the empty cave.

“...I believe there may have been a misunderstanding here.”

He shakes his head, heart twisting. “N-No, it’s okay, I get that you don’t…”

“Are you not aware of dragon courting traditions?”

Ellis feels his heart both drop the ground and soar at the same time.

“...the gifting of gems. I’d been trying to tell you about… how I feel, I suppose, for a while.” He says, and his voice sounds different. Quieter. Guilty? Ellis can’t put his finger on what it is exactly, but he wonders if Malleus is blushing.

And the image of it in his mind makes him want to look away, even as he can’t.

“There’s been a misunderstanding after all.” Malleus sighs. Yeah, his voice is different. Airy, light, something to it that has Ellis’ face burning. “If you’ve been thinking you could make me like you any more than I already do.”

It feels like an impossible dream to have something like this happen, in this damn cave of all places too, but the smile makes its way into his lips and doesn’t leave, lopsided or not. The laughter starts bubbling up. And on his first snicker, he has Malleus’ confusion too.

“Are you laughing at my confession?” He asks when the snickers turn into a full on laugh, one that has him wiping tears off his eyes with his sleeves.

“G-God, no way, I’m just laughing ‘cause we’re both so stupid…” Ellis shakes his head. Who would have known, huh. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Then we can go for that walk you wanted. I think it’d be nice.”

“As you wish, then.” He replies, and Ellis feels his hand on his, warmth spreading across him. It’s really a dream— “Would that mean we are… dating, now?”

Oh to see the great Malleus asking him all these dorky questions. “Maybe. Let’s get out of here first.”

The light from the entrance shines back onto them soon.

[cblgblog]

Well now that Agent Carter is no longer officially a canon MCU (KF confirmed canon series starts with WandaVision), we have to drop the ball on what happened in the series. Everything about Peggy that we know happened in the movies, as did Zola, and Howard.

I didn't know that Madame Masque is going to be in Howkeye series.

Well that seems contradictory on it’s face because the Jarvis shown in Endgame is the Jarvis from Agent Carter. But whatever.

Seems like Feige essentially never wants to canonize something he wasn’t in direct control over, see AoS, the Netflix shows, and now Carter I guess. He doesn’t seem to want to have to deal with stuff he didn’t mastermind himself, as implied by Wandavision—his idea—being the starting point for new canon. I guess. I dunno, I haven’t read the thing myself, just bits and pieces and summaries, full disclosure.

James Darcy being Endgame Jarvis again seems to contradict him, but whatever. Ultimately this isn’t new. He disavowed AoS as canon as soon as he could, and again, the Netflix stuff, so yeah.

Ultimately does this affect me personally all that much? Eh, yes and no. That first season of Carter was chef’s kiss, A+ gold, in my opinion, so I’m sad to see it go, if that’s the case. At the same time, I was already basically pretending season 2 didn’t exist, with the exception of Ana and Rose, and kind of Whitney Frost because she was kinda cool even though they could’ve done so much more with her. So one season I was already ignoring, mostly, when it came to my own fics, and those have never been particularly close to canon anyway.

If it’s gone, then yeah that bums me out, but I’m not sure how much direct influence it would’ve had on the “main” story going forward anyway. Plus, the important parts of her legacy were established in the films anyway, IE the founding of SHIELD, which the series never even got around to.

I had a friend of a friend--and I know at least one person is going to have a stroke when they read this, you know who you are--who threw out all his Star Wars Legends books when Disney wiped the slate. Just went and trashed years and years of collecting because some guy with mouse ears said it wasn’t canon anymore. I heard that story years ago and it still haunts me, and I’m not even super invested in either canon. Like, why? How? Why and how would you let some outside force dictate what you’re allowed to enjoy like that? Don’t get me wrong, dude had every right to do as he wanted with his own stuff, I just personally am mind blown by it, and not in a good way.

If it’s not canon anymore then it’s not canon, but that doesn’t man that it inherently has less value, anymore than a ship not being canon means that you’re not allowed to ship it. It’s not a Men in Black situation, the stuff doesn’t magically get wiped from your brain just because the current rights holder decides it’s not part of the “official” record. There is no official record. It’s fiction, not historical fact.

Anyway, TL:DR: Feige being selective about canon is nothing new, Peggy’s legacy remains firmly intact through the films, if you enjoyed Agent Carter then don’t panic, just relax, keep on enjoying it. Most of us already pick and choose our own MCU canon, to some extent or other (Maria Rambeau is alive and well fight me), the only difference is that Feige gets to do it “officially.” But Feige cannot police our minds, Disney cannot police our minds--not yet anyway, hard as they try--so relax, enjoy the things you like, don’t stress too much over what the bald overlord says.

[seoafin]

tbh,, i havent read the raws of the interview yet, only the translated ver from fan-translator and b4 i start, i think that this will be just me talking in circle and in no particular order AND a real mess (my brain does weird things after exams) but uhh here we go

gojou collects talented people, and by doing so he finds the people he can most probably relate to, except that he can't, not really, because something in the universe shifted when he was born. and it makes me think of how he's always known it, that he is special, and he's proven it, time and time again— he wants to take in talented ppl and he does, but there rly isn't much he can do for them. for they are talented, more talented than the world can understand,,

but they aren't gojou satoru

gojou took in megumi, bc he knew megumi was strong, and would grow up to be someone even stronger, but gojou can't facilitate or encourage his growth, bc for all they're similar, they are so fundamentally different. ALSO,, while geto was in his life, gojou rly judged everything according to his understanding of geto’s moral compass. gojou wears a human suit and geto is how he learnt to wear it well 🏃

the dragonfly analogy regarding to geto’s response to gojo, who was shown wearing a dragonfly patterned yukata in HI arc,, i’m trying to not think abt the fact that dragonfly symbolized victory in jpn....pain. i quoted from a web here for more explanation : In Japan the dragonfly is known as the "victory insect", or kachimushi, because of its hunting prowess and also because it is known to never retreat. Dragonflies are agile and fast fliers and can even hover, but never fly backwards

and bringing this up again, matricide and patricide are 2 of the 5 worst act to commit in buddhism, and it was said that if u commit one of those act u’re going to spend a real long time in the deepest pit of hell before continuing the samsaric cycle (higher chances to be born as an animal after that probs)— this might be geto’s divine retribution. held no power over his own body and could be considered that he’s the same as those “monkeys” 💀

ALSO the fact that sukuna's interest is "eating" rly drives home his hedonistic philosophy of seeking pleasure for himself. and he’s a cannibal...makes me think if he’ll just chomp on ppl with the mouth on his stomach

randomly, to date i think he hasn't really called himself a human, shaman, or a curse, and has held himself apart from all 3, and we've also the intro of the cursed wombs so i wonder if he’s trying to become, or is, a different entity altogether

so onmyoji got mentioned in the interview and what they practice is called onmyodo and abe no seimei and kano no yasunori were the notable practitioners,, and the kamo in jjk is the same as irl who served the imperial court back then

maybe i was right when i said that the relation between the govt. and jujutsu elders are similar to how the shogunate and imperial court work (ie, the former holds the actual power) but... lets see later,,

and i cant believe that i actually nailed it on the analogy of jujutsu practices by religion,,, so mahayana buddhism, shintoism, and taoism is present in jjk along with their respective jujutsu practices...but between the 3, it shld (?) be taoism > shintoism > mahayana buddhism (which could took a path to pure land buddhism)

it’s weird that the number of curses are supposedly higher in jpn comparable to other countries when taoism was brought from china....tengen sus

so the zenin family tree is sth like :

brothers: [toji's dad] ; naobito ; ougi

so toji, naoya, and maki & mai are cousins of the same generation

[toji's dad] → jinichi (probs) ; toji → megumi

naobito → other brothers, naoya

ougi → maki, mai

but yea i’d call anyone who’s within/close or below my age range as cousins and others above 30 as uncles/ aunts LMFAO,, i dont rly memorize my own family tree 😭😭 especially since most call the other by honorifics instead of names : aunt, uncles etc or attaching said honorifics at the end of a name for an older sibling figure/ older cousins [but like ppl in my country also call the other who are older with sibling honorific even if we’re strangers,,, rly similar to korea’s hyung/oppa—eonnie(unnie)/noona but some uses more genderless honorific] (1)

tw // topic of incest, mentions of abuse

if anyone got the wrong idea when reading this : i am not glorifying/ romanticising incest(uous themes),, i’m looking at this with absolutely no lenses of bias even tho im rly against it

初恋 = literally : first love, or puppy love

恋 = romantic love/ deep longing

i literally don't know how else to put this...🧍and with language barrier...using a western interpretation of the eng word "love" to explain a jpnese term is not quite that simple, unfortunately

that thread omg,, i rly do understand how exactly someone could associated kindness with love bc of my upbringing, it was when i was slightly older that i was just...oh so its not like that orz,,, so the most plausible explanation would be that

but the problem is that,, akutami never specify when exactly she had a crush on them,, and when megumi answered todo’s question she had a “♡” reaction 😶,, uhmmm there’s rly no way to look past this if its this way or be in denial

i’ve seen some of "why wouldn't mai react that way after hearing megumi say he'd like someone who's compassionate when she's surrounded by men like naoya",, well I MEAN,,, that, but also mai probs admires that megumi grew up so well out of the clan, regardless of the fact that he had the foundation (10 shadows) to do so. imo she seems happy for him the way she can't be for maki, bc maki ultimately had to leave her behind

hate to say it but yea,, the 3 clans most likely still practice inbreeding in order to preserve their power and presumably their wealth too 😀

i had an idle thought abt it at first but i filed it deep in the back of my mind asap,, bc i ont wanna jump to conclusion abt this out of all things too early. it’s probably not even in jjk, but all those elite clans in other ani/mangas that produce powerful heirs and whatnot also do the same,,, but this way of (my personal) thinking was influenced when i first got into tsukihime (type-moon),,, i read abt the nanaya family background and found out that they practice that in order to keep their bloodline “pure” (to keep it short : they have an optical power),, and i had this kind of assumption ever since so there’s that

i’m,, convinced the zenins' inbreeding made it more difficult for them to get powerful shamans bc they got 2 jujutsu technique-less children with heavenly restrictions in the same generation: toji & maki

even more convinced that maki might be a bit stronger than toji bc toji could see curses without aid while maki can't so the pay-off must be higher,,, SJJASN IDK ,,, plus naoya sort of implies his older brothers are nothing compared to him, and idk if we should take that as his arrogance or that his older brothers rly are weak/powerless. it would make sense as to why naobito had a lot of sons, ig, as head of clan

i feel so bad that if one of the factors that can caused heavenly restriction is inbreeding,, toji and maki and mai had no say in how they wanted to be born but are scorned for it,, typical asian families projecting their traumas and ideals onto their kids but get mad when they realize that those ideals are ugly...😁😁😁

since the zenin are conservative,, i wonder if they still hold onto old jpnese dining traditions. where in ancient jpn, hierarchical relationships were made readily apparent even within families. a dining table where everybody sat down and ate as equals would be unheard of. rather, each individual is given their own table that indicates their status,,, someone who is not considered “strong” according to the zenin’s views most likely have no place at the table, and probs eat when those who are “strong” finished/ serve them when they are eating

if toji was tossed into a swarm of curses,, i dont think abuse during said time is below them,,,

the zenin clan was already great, but they further amassed power and strength by, what i assume to be, marrying and adopting powerful individuals into the clan 🤔 ,,, i imagine they're like the hiiragi but without doing what they did to shinya (ons reference)

BUT after all that, i like to think that since akutami’s a big horror fan, jjk might be an outlet to explore said topics or even darker ones, so i wouldnt be that surpised abt it. given that there’s more than enough “red flags” before this was dropped : a reference to “tale of hikaru genji” when a grown woman asked for gojou’s number in HI arc (out of all things); granny who transformed into the man’s daughter, sat on his lap and man just touched her waist; mei mei and ui ui ; and...this (incestous theme is in the novel btw)

lets not start with whatever the fuck in kubo’s head in the interview otherwise i’m writing paragraphs with every curse words possible,, those big 3 mangakas are so— UGH,, a planet w out (cis) men like him sounds real good rn 😌 if one of yall out there decide to do it,, pls hmu rly cant do this shit anymore

akutami said i like my men pretty and i like women who will step on my neck and spit in my face (I REMEMBERED TATSUKI FUJIMOTO’S INTERVIEW WHEN HE WAS ASKED ABT MAKIMA AND IT WAS SO 😭😭😭😭) but ykw,, love that for both of them <3

when i said 3 : one piece, bleach, naruto. aside from the blatant depiction/ characterize of women in those 3,, idk if some ppl arent aware yet but oda is friends with two (2) convicted pedos,, man...the major disappointment and disgust when i first find out abt it

anyways this is just my 2 cents (which i think rightfully belong to the trash can) so pls just take this w a lil to no grain of salt - 🐱

YEAH THE ♡ LMFAO I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A “good answer ♡“ heart BUT NOW IM RE-EXAMINING?????

honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if the three clans practiced inbreeding. but ik people are going to be  😡😡😡😡😡 about it when the queen of fucking england is literally married to her (something) cousin. i’m not justifying it but like....love the double standards, just as always with the west 😍

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT FUCKING PED* LIST THEY SHOULD ALL BE IN JAIL. JAILLLLL. it’s all so gross. that’s why i fucking hate when people look towards manga for positive representation because the chances of that are super slim to zero, especially since the industry is saturated with misogyny and ped******* and a lot of other gross stuff.

i think ppl forget jjk is a horror manga LOL so obviously it’s going to confront darker themes. the question is whether it’s going to be done tastefully or not......

[rpgmgames]

April’s Featured Game: Nobody's Home

DEVELOPER(S): oates ENGINE: RPG Maker MV GENRE: Survival Horror SUMMARY: After a night of extreme drinking and partying, you wake up in stranger's bed to discover... Nobody's Home.

Buy the game here! Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! *oates: Hi, this is oates! I'm a pixel artist and game developer, I've started making games with rpgmaker in 2016 with VX Ace and now currently using MV for recent projects. Previous projects I've worked on were the FNaF-inspired Souls-like One Night at the Steeze, my first rpgmaker game and it's prequel, the FNaF-inspired roguelike No Delivery. Other games I've worked on include the fangames Day Dreaming Derpy, made in VX Ace and Spike's Day Off, made in MV and the latest in a series of previous fangames previously developed on Adobe Flash.

What is your project about? What inspired you to create this game initially? *oates: Nobody's Home is largely based on my experiments to find and apply horrific elements in modern situations or phenomena. The scenario being explored here in Nobody's Home is the aftermath of some crazy party. Sound design is especially important when crafting a horror scenario, so I often look to music to draw inspiration. Much of the atmosphere and house design was inspired by music and imagery associated with '70s yacht rock (a sub-genre of soft rock). Another important note is a lot of the general mood and 'weirdness' was inspired by a band I listen a lot to, Dance Gavin Dance, specifically their "deathstar" album. However they have a tendency in all their albums to switch genres mid-song, often going from their post-hardcore sound to funk, pop, and even rap; aside from that, some of the subject matter covered can range from disturbing to unpleasant to nonsensical, but combined with the amazing music, it creates an experience that pulls the listener in all different directions. It got to the point that I was naming events in the game after some their tracks so I had to be careful not to inadvertently make a fangame haha But there are some easter eggs in Nobody's Home that were intentionally left in, and I'm fairly certain players have identified it already.

How long did you work on your project? *oates: I used much of the same framework left over from my previous project No Delivery for this development cycle, so the hassle for setting up asset pipelines was very much mitigated. I started in earnest, making assets back in January this year so it took roughly 2+ months to finish development for this project.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *oates: Aside from the previous music inspirations, I was really intrigued with the way Resident Evil 7's Beginning Hour demo was able to pick up where Konami's cancelled PT left off in terms of survival horror games to look forward to back in 2017. Prior to later updates, the initial demo really only included a few set pieces, basic item interaction, and almost no puzzles from the full game. It was largely able to pull off scaring players from almost atmosphere alone (if you exclude the Jack Baker and ghost encounters). It was later in the full game that it was able to show off it's metroidvania-esque design to its fullest. After my previous project, I wanted to step away from roguelike design for a bit and focus a little more on an exploration-based experience, so I took a few notes from the way RE7 and RE2: Remake handled map design and progression.

Did you come across any challenges during development? How did you overcome or work around them? *oates: I was coming off a severe cold last year and it took most of January for me to recover, so it was a little hard to start full-on development immediately like I normally would on top of other career matters. And looking at events today, it's even more imperative that developers practice healthy habits during development.

Did any aspects of your project change over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *oates: I've had the idea for Nobody's Home as a concept for a while, but filling in those gaps with actual gameplay between centerpieces was a big variable. I went back and forth between the turn-based item combat from the previous project to cutting out combat entirely. While I didn't implement it, I also brainstormed a few concepts for overworld action and combat ala Zelda, but it seemed too complex given the time frame I set for myself. Eventually I settled on a middle ground between full combat and separate encounters, with "enemies" acting as essentially a toll gate. The rest of the game followed suit with various tolls and "mouse traps" for the player to trigger at their own behest. This wasn't necessarily the design I had in mind at first, but it helped to concisely fill a relatively small location with specifically "deadly" content.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *oates: I largely work solo for both development and art, but I do regularly work with a few musicians for an original soundtrack. I first started working with other composers for the fangame Day Dreaming Derpy, where after the initial demo was released, I received emails from a few musicians volunteering to contribute some tracks for the game. In all, the original soundtrack contained 9 tracks in total, with 3 tracks from each composer; each of them doing an amazing job and, in my opinion brought the project back then to a higher degree of quality. This was how I met some of the composers I still work with today and they all have some really great work! TheNGVirus @NGVirusNG1 Kaminakat @thekaminakat dRedder @HornyGremlin

What is the best part of developing a game? *oates: It's a toss up between the initial brainstorming/research and the first run-through when you have your desired maps linked together. For the brainstorming, it's pretty fun to learn about subject matter you want to do justice to as well as stretching your creative muscles for the first time in service to a certain concept. However this obviously wears off when you devote too much time to a particular concept, but it's still enjoyable nevertheless. For making that run-through, it doesn't necessarily mean to have all the events implemented, but to experience your game the way players will experience it for the first time does give a sense of completion/cohesion to what you, as a developer, are trying to accomplish. It essentially puts what you're working on into a different perspective for you.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *oates: I do keep an eye out for what other rpgmaker projects are doing, and to see what others can do with the engine helps get the creative juices flowing; it's also fun to try to mentally reverse engineer how certain mechanics or effects were made. And it's always great to see fellow devs showcase what's possible with the engine.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *oates: Nobody's Home has a relatively small cast of characters, whom you do interact with but never see, this is largely to done to create a sense of "un-relatability", but if I had to pick a character, it'd be "car guy", the guy you find stuck in the car. They have a good line, " ...there'd be a good reason for this, but there isn't..." Story of my life.

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *oates: There were a few areas I would have liked to expand on or add, specifically- the attic + roof, the front lawn, behind the walls, and an entire second floor. Unfortunately that meant potentially adding more questlines and NPCs while the first set of questlines were pretty interwoven so it would have been way more complex, also again, given the time frame I set, it would have extended the development cycle way beyond what I had time for. But if I had implemented those extra areas, the game's length would also go way beyond the 30 min - 1 hr it takes to complete the game as it is now.

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *oates: I'd like to do both really, each installment of the VCRPG line of games is definitely a stand-alone story, or an isolated incident, but I would love to explore the aftermath of the game's events and how the passage of time ravages and twists the story into urban legend. I like to treat places and environments like characters as well, capable of making memories, being misunderstood, preserved, destroyed, and ultimately capable of change.

What do you most look forward to upon finishing the game? *oates: Both the fan reaction and free time honestly speaking. Once the development cycle finishes and the game is published, your work isn't really finished as there's always a chance someone's feedback can apply to immediate changes or patches you can implement, even during the release period. Marketing is also another large step to take into consideration after release, this includes tweeting, sending keys for lets plays, etc. Watching playthroughs is also a really good way to collect data on what parts of your design fall through and what fail to land. But after all that is said and done, some free time really helps the brain recuperate.

Was there something you were afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *oates: Just whether or not I handled the game's subject matter tastefully. Like horror cinema, everything done is in service the the themes and message of the piece as a whole.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *oates: The game engine is essentially a tool, and like any tool you can find plenty of creative ways to get the same result. And don't be afraid to research whatever it is you need help with, it also helps to be specific with what you want.

Question from last month's featured dev @moca-pz: If you can collaborate with any game developer in the world, who would it be? What would be their role(s) and what would be your role(s)? *oates: Game developer I'd like to work with: Hidetaka Miyazaki His role: Story Lead and Director My role: Drinking buddy Game we're working on: SciFi Souls

We mods would like to thank oates for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Nobody's Home if you haven’t already! See you next month! 

- Mods Gold & Platinum

[mossygardenstone]

Only Then Am I Free (Ch2)

Sal shifted his gaze from Travis to Ash. "Yo-ou're kidding right?" He said with an awkward chuckle, that caught in his throat when Travis shifted his eyes to meet the other's, reminding him how bare he felt again. "No, I'm not. It /has/ to be done." He snarled, seeming to will himself to believe it for himself. Sal and Ash looked the other over for a moment, Ash being the first to break the silence, "Can you.. Handle that?" she questioned out of worry, but it felt so covered in venom to Travis. "Of fucking course I can!" He snapped back at her, making her flinch a little at the sudden yelling in the still room. Travis took a breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose, now broken more times than he can remember by the man he was about to have to help end. The pain coming from the fresh bruise across it, snapped him from his anger, and reminded him to watch his words, to make sure they didn't start to sound familiar. "No, sorry. Fuck..." He said trailing off as he finally stop purposely putting pressure on the wound. "I'm just... Stressed. I guess." He muttered and looked up at them, trying to find more words, but all it felt like was excuses. But he didn't want them to be excuses, he wanted them to be reasons, he wanted them to see him trying, him changing, but he wasn't even sure he saw it yet. But Sal, in his never ending kindness, did. He took a step forward, and put his hand on the Travis' arm, looking down at him with a gentle and reassuring smile. "It's okay, we understand, this isn't a really easy thing to handle right now, right, Ash?" He said, turning his attention to her, who gave her own kind smile and nodded as well. "You're right! I'd be snappy too under all this pressure. All good, dude." she continued, as she looked Travis in the eyes. He wasn't sure she had ever done that, not truly looked him in the eyes anyway. He gave a nod, with the quietest "thanks." his throat would allow, but then was followed by an awkward silence for a moment. They all stood there, almost thankful for the moment to all collect their thoughts.

This time, Travis broke the quiet, he raised his head slowly, and looked at the others. "We have to get your fa-.. Your friend." Fuck, get that piece of shit word out of your brain! He cursed but tried to reel himself back. Reminding himself, he's not the one that put that there in the first place. Despite the mental battle, Sal simply smiled, and commented, "You mean Todd?" like he had simply forgot his name. He wondered if he always smiled this often, if he missed every one of them behind that prosthetic. He shook the thoughts from his mind, he didn't deserve to think of the other man in such a way, when he nearly insulted his friend, simply because he was jealous of his ability to be open about his love. "Yeah.. Sorry, we have to go get Todd, but I don't know where he is? I at least know the cult doesn't have him." he rambled, trying to keep eye contact, but losing it as he continued to try and plot 5 steps too fast for his own mouth. Sal's voice broke him from his thoughts again, "He's in the mental institute. I got them to tell me as much." the blue haired man said with a scoff. Travis sighed with relief and nodded for a moment. "Alright, so we need to get him out. I heard he-" Travis, yet again paused in his sentence, his eye burning like a cliché. Guess he always will be a cliché of some sort. The eye gave a twitch and stopped it's soft burning, and he continued, "That he has had a lot of influence from the demon."

Travis' voice sounded so small as he spoke about the demon. Sal couldn't help but run things through his head that he may have faced, but he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to know the truth. Travis on the other hand, never even got to the point of considering telling anyone. He couldn't tell his dad about his sins, or his crush about his feelings, how could he ever think to confide the things he's seen and done, to others. He would be hated, more than he already was. "He may be able to help us with taking down my dad because of it." He added finally, as Ash shifted on her heals and looked him up and down. She could tell he had more to say than he was, and she wondered if Sal knew as well. She shot a glance to the bigger male, who if he did, was still looking at him with such a supportive look. She couldn't fully understand why, he had been the cruelest to Sal, she never knew why, but Sal, he always knew. The secret they shared that day never left his mind, he always hoped he would have taken his offer and actually reached out to him and his friends. He was more than ready to welcome him into the group with open arms, forget it all had happened, and move forward like they had been friends since he moved to town. But he never did get to tell Travis that, so he hoped, maybe now, after he literally saved his life, maybe he would make sure he knew the offer was there for as long as he needed. But while Sal was lost in the whirlwind of what happened, and fond memories of secret notes, Ash asked the question he knew he wanted to know as well, but couldn't ask.

"What are you not telling us Travis?" Ash finally blurted out. Looking him up and down for a moment, trying so hard not to be suspicious, her best friend would be dead if it wasn't for him after all. But still, when he said he was in the cult, it made her nervous, especially since he's the son of the leader. But she wanted more than anything, to just trust him. Travis scanned the both of their faces. Fear, confusion, trust. All plastered over the both of their faces, looking at him, like he was some sort of leader, like he would speak the truths of life, like he once thought his father did. Looking up at the man, high above everyone else, speaking truth just to lead them all to the world they deserve. But he wasn't his father, and his father held no truths, so why would he? He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, his chest tight, he felt the air in his lungs failing him. As his breath quickened alongside his pulse, he felt trapped. They wanted answers Trav, but what could you give them that wont leave you unwanted and alone, again? Ash's question swam in his mind and stomach, he felt sick, he felt weak, he felt like he'd hit the floor at any moment. And then he did, well almost.

All he could remember was the room spinning, his vision going darker, and a blur of blue. Sal could see the panic attack a mile away, nights alone with his nightmares, carved the signs into his very being. He had started his soft shuffle toward the blonde when he started to breath heavier. Not that the other would even notice, the panic he showed lasted a minute or two for Sally and Ash, but for Travis, it was years in a cage made of pure fear. But once the blonde's body couldn't take it anymore, and his knees buckled as his mind left him, Sal jerked forward as fast as he could manage. First grabbing a handful of the other man's sweater, then pulling him close to keep him upright, as he asked Ash to get something for his head. Ash quickly took off her jacket and made the best pillow she could with it, laying it on the ground, as Sal held the limp man awkwardly against himself, before carefully lowering him to the jacket to rest. "I uh, guess he needs a minute." Sal defused the situation with an awkward chuckle, as he lowered himself to the floor. He had changed in the time he was away in jail. Not that much, but just enough for Ash to notice, as she slid down to the floor to sit beside him as he watched Travis. He was bigger, Sal already hit his growth spurt, and was a bit taller than her, but he finally seemed to have grown into his large hands and feet. He was always lanky as a teen, even if he kept his baby fat for a long time. But his hands and feet were always too big on him, Ash thought it fit him though, like a puppy that needed some growing before he could truly walk with confidence. But now, he was maybe even a bit taller than she last saw him, and more toned. His hands looked a mess though, still larger, but now covered in more scratches and scars than there usually was. She almost felt small next to him, despite only being slightly bigger than the day they sat beside the lake together. She couldn't believe all the things that had happened since then. She missed him, she missed everyone. She finally pulled her gaze off Sal, and down to Travis. Probably the most odd addition to their crazy stories. She would always remember the day she saw Sal's face for the first time as she cleaned the bloody nose he caused.

Sure she can understand why he's like he was, but part of her couldn't forgive how cruel he was to someone like Sal. Who seemed to grow more fond of the bully after that day, which was even more confusing for her, and really pissed Larry off. She couldn't help but wonder, what would Larry say about this all? Sal hummed, almost as if she had said all that out loud, and he listened along. "I bet Lar would get a kick out of this." He mumbled into the darkness, as he looked down at Travis. "What the fuck is church boy doing here?" Sal said, in a mimic to Larry's voice before he bust into a laughter he hadn't had in him, in so long. Ash joined in along side him, looking over at the boy. Sal's laugh boomed into the dark and musty room, he looked around from the echo, the light left his eyes, and his laugh faded off into a soft whimper. Ash's heart crumbled at the noise, as she too started to take in the surroundings of the basement of Addison Apartments. All the stories she had here with Sal, Todd, and Larry. Soon they both found their selves sobbing in the dark together. Always together.

After a good cry, they finally calmed down, and sat in silence again. Sal never took his eye's off Travis. It's like he was afraid he would disappear if he so much as looked away. Ash looked over at him, her eyes trained on his face in the dark, she wanted to say something, but everything felt like it was said in the quiet they shared. Before she could even try to think of something, a shuffle caught her attention, she looked back to Travis, unlike Sal who had still been staring at him. His eyes softening when he saw him move. "Ah, morning sunshine." Sal teased, his long legs were pulled to his chest, as he leaned over them, closing the distance between the two a little. Travis groaned, his eyes rolling around in his skull painfully, as he pulled his hand to his head. Where was he? What happened? He looked down at his legs as he pulled himself up on his arms. The mud covered shoes and the smell of the musty room brought it all back. He groaned and pulled his legs in to sit cross legged. Unsure if he was more upset by the headache, or the waking up back in this nightmare. Once he lifted his head though, red ripped across his face, as he locked eyes with Sal, much closer than he remembered before it all became back. Sal smiled at him, a smile more expressed in the eyes, from years behind the prosthetic. Hardly noticing the closeness, as he was damn near closer to Ash at the time, but it was the closest Travis has been to him since he freed him from the chair, and this time, the situation wasn't there to distract him.

His chest felt tight again, but this time, in a way he loved so much more. His dark skin felt like it was on fire as he scanned the man's face, eye's trailing down him, taking in ever inch of the man that stole his heart before he even knew he had it. The smile stayed on Sal's face, and Travis felt his life complete in that moment, but he had to pull away, he had to remember to speak once again. "So- Ow, Sorry about that." He said rubbing his head, wincing when he touched it, his head felt like it was going to split in half. "I must have hit really hard, my head feels like shit." He groaned out looking up at the two again, still getting his surroundings, and ignoring the beautiful blue boy. "You didn't hit, I caught you. Probably just from the hyperventilating from the panic attack." Panic attack? Caught? Hyperventilating? These words hit him like an open window on the freeway. He thought he'd pass out again, hopefully this time he wouldn't wake up in hell again. But then, just as a cherry on top, Sal did something that nearly stopped his poor heart. He stroked a big hand up and down his back gently. If he wasn't blushing before, he most certainly was now, he was seeing stars, and the stars were as gay as him and his thoughts. Ash blinked for a second, before her eyes widened a bit, but she shook it off. She felt like a fucking idiot, how did she never notice? The boy was gayer than her, and can't handle his feelings to save his little homo life. She looked to Sal, wondering if he noticed the gay panic in the man's eyes, and if he did, he was hiding it, probably for Travis' sake. "Don't worry about it Trav," he started, in a caring voice, before he continued, "I've had a lot of panic attacks, I'm just glad you didn't hit the floor, it would hurt pretty bad down here, couldn't even be on the carpet, huh?" Sal rambled softly, reassuring and loving words spilling into Travis’ ears, sending his brain into orbit, and his hand. His big fucking hand didn't stop it's comforting petting as he spoke. He was convinced he was going to actually pass right back out, before Sal finally pulled back his hand, putting it to rest on his knee again. "How are you feeling though?" Travis snapped out of it at his words and turned his head to Sal quickly. "Uh, I'm okay I think.. I'm starting to get a hold on it all again. I'm still sorry, it's not really the best time for me to be taking a fucking cat nap." He whined mostly to himself, but it earned a chuckle out of Sal, causing him to look back at him again. "Don't worry, sometimes you just gotta lie down, like, right fucking now." He added with another friendly smile. But Travis trailed up from his radiant smile, up to his eyes. Had he been crying? His eyes flickered over to Ash, her eyes were the same. They both had been crying, while you were a little bitch and passed out at a question. He groaned and pulled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his head on his knees. "I do know more than I'm telling you guys.." He mumbled into his thighs, not looking up at them.

[holylulusworld]

Beta is not a 4-letter word

Request: Inspired by unbeta’d, how about reader is one of the fellow Hunter, she’s beta so no one in hunting community wants to work with her. She’s forced to work with Sam & Dean, who also treat her different, like really insulting, taunting her, making fun of her, teasing. One day a witch curses Dean making him a beta permanently. He blames reader for that but eventually realizes his mistake. They make up then. Super angsty tho 

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Beta!Reader, Alpha!Sam, Beta!Dean x Beta!Reader

Warnings: angst, Sam and Dean being douches, sad reader, mentions of sex, ABO

Always the same game. You find a case that needs more than one hunter, but no one offers his or her help.

Your last resort was Garth, the kind Alpha was the only one who ever helped you with cases, well till he got bitten by a werewolf. Now he has got a family and he suggested two of his friends shall help you.

You hate it. Hate the way the smaller Alpha looks at you as if you are a fly on his steak or a weak little kid telling him you want take out a nest of vamps. You can see it in his eyes, he doesn’t like you and your presentation a bit.

Good thing you insisted on meeting up with them on neutral ground or they would have started to taunt you shamelessly. In public, they need to get their shit together.

At least you hope so…

“A beta, Sammy. Why did we agree to help a weak little girl?” Dean, the elder brother groans, not caring you sit right next to him. He acts as if you are not around, shakes his head at the information you handed them as if your research bores him.

Used to rough treatment, harsh words, and insults you swallow your pride. It is not as if you could take both Winchesters, the legends among the hunter, down but so far – you did not get yourself killed.

“Garth asked us, Dean. According to our werewolf ‘slash’ hunter friend she is good at hunting witches. Now let us talk about the case.” Chortling Dean glances at you, not giving you a chance to say anything he gets up to circle you like prey.

You feel like an insect under a microscope as the Alpha seems to drink your appearance in. 

“Coming from our werewolf hunter?” Dean huffs as you try to push the tears away. You are used to hunters being rough around you, but Dean wants to push your boundaries. 

“Weak and meek, Sammy. A Beta should not hunt.”

“So far I did it without an Alpha’s help, but this witch is dangerous, and I assume she does not work alone. Many people died or disappeared.”

Your body goes stiff when Dean nudges your side and you can’t do anything else than shove his hand away.

“Weak and soft. I don’t think she could even punch my nose, Sammy.” Dean snickers as Sam give him a dirty grin. “We shouldn’t let kids hunt.”

“I asked Garth for help as I am not suicidal and want to the killings as fast as possible.” Wiping your nose with the sleeve of your blouse you try to prepare yourself for the next blow.

“Dean is right, Y/N. You seem to be a nice girl but let’s face the truth. You will not withstand a blow coming from a witch or werewolf.” 

Sam’s words hurt you even more. Garth said the younger brother is more sensitive but here he is, giving you the feeling, you are worthless.

“I never said I am as strong as an Alpha, but I can stand my ground. I took out a whole nest of vamps. I know you believe I am not a good hunter, but I found the witch and want to take her down. I asked for help, not for another beta-bashing.” Getting up you try to look taller but all you get is a chuckle from Sam and a stupid comment from Dean.

“Even if you climb on a ladder you will always be a tiny and pitiful girl. Let’s face it, you’ll get me, and Sammy killed.” While you try not to cry you look around the crowded restaurant.

You don’t want to lose your composure in the middle of a restaurant, where families try to have a good time. 

The hope that the Winchesters would treat you equal, or at least would not make fun of you got ripped into pieces within not even half an hour.

“I think it’s for the best if you let us take over the case. Go to your motel room, take a few days off and maybe you should turn toward research.” There is a smirk on Sam’s lips as he shoves your notes toward you.

“Whoa…the infamous Winchesters are nothing but self-centered and instinct-driven Alphas. Shame I believed you are better than all the other knot-heads. That was the last time I asked for help.” Tossing money onto the table you look straight into Dean’s face.

“What little girl? Do you want me to soothe you? Do you need a tissue?” Dean mocks you, tries to push you even further but you will not give him any kind of satisfaction.

“You know, Beta is not a 4-letter word. I am not as strong as you but unlike you and your brother, I can control my needs. I am not an instinct-driven animal during ruts, heats, or crap. I always let my brain decide, not my reproductive organ.” Sneering you grab your notes before you look at Dean one last time.

“Only as you do not have heats does not mean your brain works better than mine or Sammy’s. Beta stands for weakness.” Nodding you take a deep breath.

“Right. I love your and the other Alphas prejudices. But you know what? I can fall in love without my instinct telling me I have to bite someone’s neck.” Before you look at Dean, hoping he would let your words sink in.

“What?” Dean jumps up to tower over you, but you act as if his size would not intimidate you. “Anything to add to your stupid speech?”

“Be careful. That witch likes to fuck with your mind and even more important…” Stepping closer you give him a cold smile. “She seems to like to kill assholes. In your case, you run around with a target pinned to your back.”

When you walk out of the restaurant you swallow hard. You may have lost your case, but at least you kept your dignity and did not beg them to let you participate on the hunt.

While you wipe a few tears away you get your phone out to dial Garth’s number. 

“I wanted to say thank you for sending me the biggest assholes on earth for help. That was the reason I asked you for help. All other Alphas…”

Garth can hear the tiny sobs leave your lips and his stomach drops. He believed Sam and Dean would treat you with respect, not act like the other Alphas hurting you.

“I am sorry, Garth. It’s just…” Sniffling you wipe the tears away. 

“I thought the Winchesters would be different. I will never annoy you again. From now on, I’ll handle my cases alone. It doesn’t matter in the end if I die…”

While you sulk in self-pity, hating you ever called Garth, the Winchesters play the great heroes once again – at least you assume they do so, as you are not invited to your party.

Same game – every time. How could you believe they would be any different? They are Alphas and men, none of them would ever consider you can handle a hunt, let alone work with them.

With shaking fingers, you check on the collected information once again. You should send Sam a message, tell him you believe that something is fishy about the absence of the witch, but you decide against it.

You offered all your information, your knowledge, and strength. “They got this, Y/N. Don’t give them the chance to make fun of you even more…”

“You are an interesting little insect, hunter. I knew the moment she called you, I found my new favorite victim.” Snickering the witch claps her hand before she throws something at Dean. 

“Bitch! You knew she called us?” Dean groans, glancing at his unconscious brother. “Does she work with you? Did the Beta kid ask you to take us down?”

“Are you that blind, hunter? That girl was so close to taking me down and unlike you, she could have made it. Her heart is pure, she never made fun of anyone. I could never weaken her as I weakened you, hunter.” The witch snickers and Dean wonders what she means.

“Pure heart?”

“Yeah. She told you – right? Yesterday, at the restaurant she told you I go after what did she say…” Smirking the witch moves her fingers through Sam’s hair. “Ah…she said I go after assholes. The kid was right.”

“It was a trap…great. That stupid Beta hunter gets us killed…” Grunting Dean tries to get his gun out.

“You still don’t get it, hunter. If you would not have treated her like all the other Alphas did, I wouldn’t have any influence on you. Good people like her, the ones never hurting someone on purpose do not fall victim to my powers…now…”

“I’ll kill you, bitch and then I’ll kill her…” 

“Hush now, hunter. I think you deserve a special gift, not just death. You caused pain; I’ll show you what she felt…” Blinding light fills the room and Dean falls to his knees, feeling lightheaded before he loses consciousness.

Checking your gun again, you sigh deeply. Over the last three days, two more people disappeared. You’ve got no clue why – but the Winchesters didn’t take the witch down.

Now you are on your way out of town to drive to her house, or rather Mansion to end the job you started. 

This time there will be no Alpha providing back-up, but also you will not hear any insults. 

The house is dark, almost like a Gothic dream and you’d like to have a look around, but you’ve got a job to do so you silently walk further into the house.

Oddly, the door with a strange sigil on it opens and you can see the witch sits onto a chair, legs crossed she grins at you.

“Here we go.” She says, something sinister in her voice. “Did you miss your friends or rather enemies? You can have him back or both. Just say the words.”

“What do you mean? I have no friends.” Your voice is controlled as you aim a gun toward her head. “Witch killing bullets. Don’t try to trick me, I did my homework.”

“I know, sweet little Beta. Unlike those Winchesters, you did not storm into my house without a charm or a pure soul.” Now she claps her hands and the room changes and you are suddenly in a dungeon.

“What did you do to them?” While Dean kneels in a corner, shaking, Sam tries to calm his brother. “I asked you a question.” Firing a bullet into the witch’s leg you clench your jaw. “Release them, now!”

“Fine…” Clapping her hands again the witch let the chains holding the Winchester disappear. “I made him a gift, but he does not like it.” Snickering the witch presses one hand onto her bleeding wound.

“Take it back! NOW!” Gun aimed at her head you narrow your eyes as Sam calls your name. “NOW!”

“Impossible.” Sam sighs. “She used something unique, it got destroyed and now Dean is…” Choking the word out Sam tries to find the right word.

“He is what?” Panicked you hear Sam whisper the word ‘beta’ and you want to laugh loudly but Dean’s low whines let you remain silent.

“You sure she can’t take it back, Sam?”

“One-hundred percent…” Dean grunts. “That’s your fault! She did it because of you!” Flinching you try to ignore Dean’s outburst.

“No, hunter. It’s your fault.” The witch coos. “I did it as you acted like an asshole. Now let negotiate…” She cannot lull you into kind words as you pull the trigger and a bullet ends her life.

“We’ve got to bring him out of here and check if we find anything to help your brother.” Ignoring your words Sam helps his brother up, not even giving you a second glance.

“Stay away from us, Beta. You did enough.” Dean snarls as you must watch them leave you alone with the dead witch.

“Leave me be! I am useless now. How can I be a hunter when I am Beta now! I can’t even scent you, Sam.” Dean barks.

The Winchesters do not know your room is next to theirs, you didn’t know either before you heard Dean smash things against the walls. “I hate being weak!”

“Dean calm down. You are still strong enough to push me to the floor! You lifted the goddamn table as if it weighs nothing. Apparently, your strength had nothing to do with your presentation.”

Dean drops the lamp he was about to throw against the wall, realizing he does not feel weaker. The only difference is his brothers’ scent does not make him want to dominate Sam.

“I…I am not weak?” Falling onto the bed Dean looks at his hands.

“Your instinct is gone, your ruts and the need to claim and knot an Omega, everything else is still normal.” Sam tries to calm his brother.

“I was an asshole and she punished me. Made me Beta.” Sam runs one hand through his hair, nodding silently.

“That witch had a sense of humor like Gabriel. She liked to fuck with people treating others badly. Y/N, she saved us, and I was an ass all over again.”

“She’s in the room right next to ours. Watched her sneak in and she did not leave so far. Maybe you should talk to her.”

“Hmm…”

“What do you want, Dean? Telling me it’s my fault you are a pitiful Beta now?”

Sighs leave your lips as Dean stands in front of your motel room. “I called a few people, Betas who are familiar with magic and witchcraft. I hope they can turn you back into an Alpha.”

“Listen…” Dean nervously chews on his lower lip before he decides to enter your room. “I could use advice in being Beta. I…I was an Alpha asshole so far and don’t know how to act like a Beta.”

“Not being an asshole is all it needs. Now if you would leave my room, I’d gladly go back to being a weak and meek Beta.” A chuckle leaves Dean’s lips as he plops down onto your bed. “I mean it…”

“You know…” Eying you warily Dean gives you a cocky grin. “Now that I am Beta we could let out all this pent-up tension. I thought about having sex as a Beta with you.”

“Did I have a stroke or did this shit just leave your lips?” Pushing against Dean’s shoulders you snicker as he feels your strength.

“You’re strong for such a tiny girl. How about I’ll give you advice on how to kick an Alpha’s ass and you help me with all this new crap I have to get used to.”

Dean’s eyes search your face and for the first time, you see he doesn’t want to make fun of you.

“What do you want to know, Dean?”

“Uh—food! Do you eat differently? Will I gain weight? How about sex? How does it work? I mean you do not scent an Alpha…how does…” Pressing your index finger to his lips you chuckle lightly.

“Everything is like it used to be when you were Alpha, okay. Except for the scenting and knotting part. Your uh…you know… will not expand but it should work like it used to do.” Nodding Dean scratches his chin.

“What if he’s smaller now? I mean Beta’s have smaller dicks…right?” Now you cackle as you glance at the bulge in his pants.

“I think this shouldn’t be a problem. Just go out and try it…him…I mean. Gosh, go find a girl and have sex. I can’t believe I said that…” 

“Can I try something? I want to know how it feels to touch a girl now. Please?” Groaning you fall onto your bed, covering your eyes with your hands. “Just your thigh…can I?”

“If you stop asking questions, you can touch my skin.” Humming Dean slides his fingers over your skin. There is a small smile on his lips as he can feel goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I think I owe you an apology for being a dick. I am sorry that I said all those stupid things. You are smart, strong and cute.”

The last word catches your attention and you remove your hands from your eyes to look at Dean. “I’d like to test it with you…not now…I mean…fuck…one day…”

“Can you not talk for a moment. I am getting a terrible headache.” While Dean lies next to you, just looking at you none of you says a word.

“We have a safe home, you know. I could ask Sammy, as he’s the Alpha now but I’d like you to come with us. I need my Yoda after all…” Laughing you punch Dean’s arm and he joins your laughter.

“I am no Yoda…”

“Fine. You can be my Lea. Now tell me everything about being Beta…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[lettrespromises]

MIDNIGHT STRIKES ALL OVER AGAIN. - USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.

A.N: ❝ Dear reader, I know I’m always late to the party (pun not intended) and I missed Ushiwaka’s birthday so here’s my late birthday gift to you all. This big boi needs to be showered in love and affection, that’s all I have to say. I hope you will enjoy this letter!  Sincerely yours, Nikki. P.S: @amoroushero​, this letter has your name all over it.❞

Letter Object : Ushijima is back from yet another professional trip right when the clock strikes midnight. In the world of the imaginary, midnight is always painted as the hour which makes all of your most secret wishes come true. And the vision of your divine self in lingerie makes him wonder if the midnight legend is a curse or a blessing. Word Count : 3K. Warnings (please consider that all the characters are aged up) : Strip-tease, feminine masturbation, thigh riding, mentions of sex, cursing.

Midnight strikes once. According to the collective imaginary, midnight was the most paradoxical hour- the thin balance between the fading night and the renaissance of the day, the temporal metaphor of a mirage where one’s most intimate desires magically appear and cruelly disappear once the clock is close to striking the first hour of the day. Truthfully, it was an hour composed of irregular rules, perhaps it was why said hour paradoxically evoked both secrecy and fear to the common eye. Anyone with a mind meddled with collective desires would believe that midnight is indeed a magic night, the sole hour which seemed disconnected from the day, much like a rupture with space and time, if you will.

Anyone with a mind meddled with collective desires, correct? Oh, well. It’s safe to say that this isn’t much of Ushijima Wakatoshi’s taste. His mind, however, was exclusively logical and rational, solely based on the concept of empiricism, the science of experience. 

Had he ever witnessed something out of the ordinary once the clock strikes midnight? Not that he can reckon. Had he ever felt cursed because he walked under a ladder? The answer is negative once more. It was logic against popular beliefs. 

Perhaps, he would succumb to the temptations of his subconsciousness just this time. Perhaps, he was ready to give in and believe in the mystery gravitating around this mysterious hour. Perhaps, just perhaps, his most secret desires would come undone now that the clock had struck midnight.

The sudden sound of his bag hitting the familiar floor of his living room was the key to break him free from the constant roaming of his mind fed by his deepest temptations. He blinked once, then twice. Truthfully, he didn’t even realize the hold on his bag had gone loose, but he was too shameful to acknowledge the influence of his thoughts on his behavior.

Empiricism, correct? The science of experience. Oh, well, there was nothing too philosophical about his post-travel routine, it was already embedded in his brain, much like reflexes if you will. His motions were similar to a pre-programmed machine, it was repetitive, but he found a secret comfort in routines. 

The presence of the stairs in his field of vision was odd this time- if he was careful enough, he could have sworn that said stairs were tempting him and whispering for him to go upstairs, that something or rather someone was waiting for him upstairs, the living portrait of his buried fantasies. 

His palm clenched around the ramp, his fingertips adopted a white shade under the force of the pressure he ignored he was exercising. And thus, his feet moved as if they had a mind of their own. Something hidden in him attracted him even more so than usual upstairs, he couldn’t exactly picture nor describe with precision what was happening but it was tempting. After all, he was just a man against his temptations. 

What intrigued him most, however, was the hint of light escaping from the door leading to your shared bedroom. “It’s midnight already. She should be sleeping already.” There it went again- his reason thrown into this inner battle against the enticing mirages blocking his mind, truth be told, it was his last attempt at remaining master of his own mind.

Curiosity was the fuel to the fire that was his roaming mind, and just by opening cautiously the oh so common door, the fire had turnt into an untamable inferno. And he could pinpoint the moment where he knew that his logic alone would not be enough to absorb the inhuman beauty of the scenery laying before his eyes. Inhuman, perhaps, just perhaps, that was the nature of the magic of the midnight hour.

There you were- laying in all your glory. Worthy of a figure of a Renaissance painting who had just came to life and escaped from the canvas, worthy of an idol where worshippers would gather around and sing your praises, worthy of the endless and most loving description of one of Jane Austen’s characters. You were, very literally, given Ushijima’s nature, out of this world.

Your frame, which exuded an almost perceivable aura of desire and temptation, strategically placed on the edge of your king-sized bed and emphasized by the grip of your fingertips on the brim of the bedsheets, testified how eager you were to see the personification of your missing piece, the sole person who could claim he could make you feel whole again. 

Ushijima swore he could have gotten drunk on the sight of you- the scarlet colored lingerie was embracing your every curve, and thus, he secretly wondered if the color you had chosen was a hint at the passion and sensuality red usually transcribes to in the common imaginary. The right amount of lace was covering your most sensual areas and yet, like a paradox if you will, the transparency of said lace which ‘covered’ your chest appeared as the forbidden fruit. Ushijima knew very well that if he were to bite it, a world of sins and agonizing temptations would welcome him with open arms. Once again, he was just a man against his temptations.

And, oh boy, the gaiters wrapped around your legs made him wonder whether or not you were able to read his mind and enter the most secret side of his subconsciousness where he usually buries all his most cherished fantasies, but he still refused to believe in the magic of the midnight hour. 

“Hey, pretty boy, are you still daydreaming?” Truth be told, and it was a shame to admit it, he hadn’t even noticed that you had left the bed and dangerously reduced the space between the both of you. His mind kept repeating the image of your figure sat on the brim of the bed, over and over again. “Forgive me, it seems I was a bit distracted, Y/N.” You hummed in response, and that was the sole hint he needed to understand that you absolutely did not believe him.

“I wonder what you were daydreaming about, Ushi.” Before he could react, he felt a slight tug which brought him to your level- his tie was in the heart of your palm, but all he wanted to say, to scream even, is that you were on his mind and he was daydreaming about you and your divine figure. You led him by his tie until reaching your shared bed.

 “Sit.” He was in such a trance, he was drinking every word pouring from your lips, and so he did sit on the edge of the bed. You, in return, placed each one of your legs around his own and deemed his lap as your seat. The gleam in your eyes screamed nothing short of passionate, it was the proof of how much you wanted to cherish him. “You know, Ushi, you’ve been away for your birthday...” Reflex kicked, his brows furrowed, he couldn’t help but feel like this was his fault. “Y/N, if you wished to spend-...” You hushed him by placing your index above his lips. “I wasn’t finished! So, back to what I was saying: since you’ve been away for your birthday, I wasn’t quite able to give you your gift, right? And what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t give you your birthday gift?”

The gears in his head started to shift once he acknowledged the grin plastered upon your face, his mouth was agape but no sound came out, he couldn’t form proper sentences when the sight of you was so hypnotizing. The way your finger would hook around the strap of your bra while your opposite hand had already cupped his jaw, he knew he was entirely under your spell. “So... Why don’t you let me give you your birthday gift? What do you say, baby? Do you want your birthday gift?”

This time, the sole finger wrapped around the strap of your bra travelled down to the valley of your breasts and traced invisible patterns on the surface of your skin. “Yes, my love, I would very much like to receive my gift.” Such a miracle, he managed to form a proper sentence, which surprised himself first out of the both of you. The grin already plastered upon your face only widened once his words connected to your eardrums, “But, the sole condition is that you can’t touch your gift. You can look, but no touching, got that, hun?” 

He gulped at the sound of your condition, and probably swallowed his burning desire to get his hands all over you and explore your body as if it was the first time in the process. Ushijima nodded at your request, which earned him a peck on his plump lips as a reward. “You’re such a good boy for me. Now, observe your birthday gift, okay? Remember? No touching.”

And so it began- the unravelling of his most precious birthday gift, and fuck, you were to die for. Just the fact that you held all of Ushijima’s attention in the palm of your hand was enough to fire you up, after all, he did need to relieve some stress after his matches. 

Your right hand left his jaw and joined the other on the valley of your chest, both of your palms were cupping your breasts through the fabric in circular motions so the skin of this sensual area could keep a constant contact. Sure, the transparent fabric of your lace bra was ideal to let his imagination roam and create the most passionate scenarios in his head, but the ‘no touching’ stipulation was already too much torture. And, truth be told, you deserved to satisfy your own pleasure too. 

Your arched your back just enough to slip your fingers underneath the material and unhook your bra in the process, right before to slip both of the straps down and thus, become set free from the piece of lingerie. Ushijima’s hot breath, a clear sign of impatience, directly landed on your nipples. It was pure torture, observing you in all your glory but being so powerless hurt him, it was an inner battle with himself.

The pads of your thumb and index pinched the buds of your nippled and applied slight twisting motions to make you earn a dash of pleasure, the movements of your fingers were hypnotizing, it made you feel so much bliss and yet, Ushijima couldn’t find the inner strength to land his stare elsewhere. Right when you pinched your nipple once more, the first of a long concerto of whimpers broke free out of your mouth. Instinctively, Ushijima’s gaze derived from your chest to your mouth where pure sounds of pleasure started to gather and echo. Fuck, he wished he was the one to make you provoke these noises, feeling helpless was consuming him. 

You kept the pressure on your left nipple while your other hand travelled down to your crotchless underwear, and oh boy, what a surprise it was when Ushijima realized that you were wearing his favorite kind of piece of lingerie, leading him to wonder if each of your actions had his name written all over them. 

He couldn’t help but dig his teeth into his lower lip to maintain any grunts from escaping his mouth at the sight of your thumb rubbing your bundle of nerves, this scenery evoked so many memories. Pleasing ones, that is- like the time he was laying right between your thighs and sucked on your clit until you cried his name and begged for him to stop. This time, roles were reversed, he was going to beg you to let him touch you. 

The repetitive circular motions on your clit were building this inner fire within you, a shy moan echoed in the room, and Ushijima could only grunt at the melodious yet sinful sound, he didn’t know if it was a grunt of frustration or of pleasure. “It feels... So good, baby. If only... If only you knew.” If only he knew, that was the problem. He couldn’t imagine, he didn’t know. The sole option left was to retrospect on all the times he left your legs shaking and your mouth agape and drooling on the bedsheets. And yet, he still couldn’t detach his eyes from the beauty of the pressure applied on your clit. Fucking mesmerizing.

He couldn’t touch you, he couldn’t even settle his hands on your hips, he was forbidden from any physical contact with your skin (which was clearly calling and begging for his presence) and he wasn’t sure if he could hold on for very long. 

Ushijima almost lost it when a sudden moan broke the chain of uneven breaths caused by the new presence of two of your fingers inside your soaking core. He knew he couldn’t break his promise, but he also knew that his length would fit your wet velvet walls much better than your fingers. But it didn’t stop you from continuing, your thumb was still brushing your precious bundle of nerves while the two fingers inside you had already started in-and-out motions to build as much pleasure as you could. 

“A-Ah! Oh my... So fucking good, baby.” It may be selfish, but he secretly hated the way you couldn’t scream his name, there was no more enticing sound than the sound of his name coated in pleasure breaking free from your mouth. Ushijima threw his head back and shut his lids closed, trying to reminisce all the times he had his length buried deep inside of you was his sole option to keep him sane. “You’re doing good, babygirl, very good.” The crescendo of your moans was the first hint that the pressure within your stomach was starting to build up and you were chasing your pleasure, after all, you were a good girl and deserved his praises. 

The surface of your forehead crashed onto his broad shoulder, it was your turn to shut your eyes and listen to the cries of pleasure building up in your body. The expertise of your fingers were about to send you over the edge, you knew it was just a matter of time before you could perceive just a hint of heaven. The motions of your fingers put you in a half-conscious state, you were no longer able to control the trail of moans living your mouth, much to Ushijima’s own personal pleasure. It was his favorite melody.

“Do it for me, babygirl, will you?” The sensation of his hot breath hitting the crook of your neck was yet another step to sending you over the edge, his presence alone was the key to of all your most intense fantasies. You gathered enough strength to hum in response, and boy, the scenery before him was breathtaking. 

You took out both of your fingers from your dripping core and knew your were on the fast lane to chase your pleasure, you were just a few fingertips away to feel pure bliss wash over your body. Instead, you settled yourself on Ushijima’s left thigh and the small grin plastered upon his face showed that he knew what was coming. 

Your bundle of nerves was perfectly set upon Ushijima’s rock hard thigh, isn’t he a sweetheart? He flexed his muscled to offer you the best tools to reach your orgasm. Your hips buckled as a tentative thrust and you kept going relentlessly upon the ever so pleasing sensation of his muscles brushing over your clit. Sure, he couldn’t touch you but that didn’t mean you couldn’t bend the rules your way.

Soon enough, and as the thrusts followed and gained a faster pace, his name fell on your lips like a forbidden prayer and you knew you couldn’t call out to him to touch you. There laid all the torture of your own gift, you wanted to give him the best show, coming undone right before his eyes was your most intimate gift, after all. 

The muscles of your legs tensed and you knew it was closer and closer. You threw your head back in ecstasy and arched your back. Your moans rivaled with Ushijima’s grunts, while he soaked in his favorite moment where you were about to be overwhelmed with pleasure. “Ah, fuck! I-I’m coming...” And with one last brush of his thigh against your clit, you felt several waves of heat wash over your body while your mind went numb- even through your shut lids, you could perceive stars. It was a moment of pure serenity, pure bliss, and the contortion of your faces testified of the overwhelming feeling of pleasure roaming over your body.

It was a facial expression Ushijima would never get sick of seeing, hell, he could paint your face in the middle of an orgasm with his eyes closed if you were to ask him. Your uneven breaths started following a more regular pattern, and you finally opened your eyes just to be met with the hint of a smirk with devilish intentions painted upon Ushijima’s face. “You’re a good girl, a very good girl. I thoroughly enjoyed my birthday gift, my love. Now, I believe it’s my time to offer you something in return. Fret not, you will be able to touch me anywhere you desire.”

Midnight strikes all over again.

[citylightsbooks]

5 Questions with Kim Addonizio, Author of Now We’re Getting Somewhere

Kim Addonizio is the author of eight poetry collections, two novels, two story collections, and two books on writing poetry: The Poet's Companion (with Dorianne Laux) and Ordinary Genius. Her poetry collection Tell Me was a finalist for the National Book Award, and her 2016 collection, Mortal Trash, won the Paterson Poetry Prize. Addonizio's awards include fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Guggenheim Foundation, among other honors. She lives in Oakland, California.

Kim Addonizio is joined by Brittany Perham, Peter Kline, and Tracey Knapp to discuss the launch of her new collection Now We’re Getting Somewhere: Poems (published by Norton) in our City Lights LIVE! discussion series on Tuesday, March 16th

****

Where are you writing to us from?

I’m hunkered down here in the Oakland hills with a couple of lovely cats. I haven’t been to San Francisco for nearly a year—is it still even there? I’m glad City Lights is making it through in some way and will hopefully be stronger than ever on the other side of this. You guys are a beacon and an icon.

What’s kept you sane during the pandemic?

Um…edibles? I generally tend to see reality as something to escape from. Now more than ever. So, the usual: binge-baking, binge-watching, binge-cringing at the political antics of the motherfuckers who’ve spent the last four years running the democratic experiment into the ground.

What are 3 books you always recommend to people?

Here are three I’ve recommended to friends recently: Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo—the subtitle pretty much sums it up: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity. I read it several years ago and it just blew me away—the lives of those people and the sympathy with which she renders them. Nonfiction, but it reads like a novel. I’ve never forgotten it. Lately I’m recommending the one I’m reading now, Martha Gellhorn’s The Face of War. She’s a beautiful writer who possibly had her work overshadowed somewhat by being married to Hemingway for a time. She gives you such a sense of what it’s like for people in wartime, from the Spanish Civil War through WWII and Vietnam and a few other places—without any sense of pity, just clear-sighted observation. In “The War in Finland,” she writes, “The way people stay half-sane in war, I imagine, is to suspend a large part of their reasoning minds, lose most of their sensitivity, laugh when they get the smallest chance, and go a bit, but increasingly, crazy.” Third—Is it cheating to say I’m listening to this one? I love being read to—I became obsessed with Hillary Mantel’s Wolf Hall trilogy. Every night I disappear into the sixteenth century’s burnings, beheadings, and bling. I’m on the last one, The Mirror & the Light, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to recover from being ejected back into my own time. I’m thinking I’ll just start over with the first book, and by the time I’m through the second round, the listing ship of state will have hopefully been righted.

Which writers, artists, and others influence your work in general, and this book, specifically?

It’s hard to answer this without naming every book I’ve read, every movie I’ve seen, every piece of art I’ve looked at and every kind of music I’ve listened to. I’m influenced by everything and everyone, but mostly I don’t consciously remember that stuff; it’s like my brain is doing its thing deep down in its little neural workshop and one day something surfaces. With this book, it often felt more as though I was channeling a messed-up, passionate and somehow bratty spirit who had a lot to say. I don’t know where she got it all from.

If you opened a bookstore, where would it be located, what would it be called, and what would your bestseller be?

That’s an easy one: Lola’s Tiny Bookshop. Right here in a little white bookcase in the room I write in. Lola is my five-year-old alter-ego (I guess that means I have two if you count whatever phantom wrote this book). She’s already opened Lola’s Tiny Café on the deck, Lola’s Tiny Cinema (living room TV) . . . This probably sounds unbearably precious so I’ll spare you her other designations (though I kind of like the top of the fridge, which has been rechristened the Golan Heights). The latest bestseller: that new poetry collection by Kim Addonizio.

[harryxmac]

✨💘🌙MOON&BACK🌙💘✨

Chapter 1

our first introduction to our characters: Luna, Harry, Fenn and Ruby.

♡☾

“Lulu!”

“Coming!”

“It's time for Paw Patrol!”

“I gotcha!” Luna called running with their favourite snacks.

Luna wasn’t one to brag. However, she knew that he had found the college job of a lifetime. Babysitting a CEO’s little girl. Luna was free to do college work when Ruby was sleeping or watching TV, she was paid well, looked after and had pretty easy going hours. She considered herself a very lucky girl. Especially when her bosses were two of the kindest people she knew. Luna was always invited to birthday parties, meals out if she had just finished (or still working) and was always made to feel at home in the Styles’ household, never just the babysitter.

“Paw Patrol is my favourite” The five year old exclaimed.

“Marshalls my favourite” Luna replied.

Baby sitting Ruby was like just hanging out with your little five year old best friend. For a five year old, she was impeccably smart and very observant. Luna took this as part of Harry’s influence as he was always encouraging her to read and look on the brighter side of life, which Luna adored.

Ruby’s Mum, Fenn was equally a lovely person. Luna admired her dearly, her chic style, the way she presented herself, Luna thought that when she finally had her dream job and had her shit together, she might just be as cool as Fenn.

“Oh Luna! You are a lifesaver.” Fenn smiled as she walked in to see her happy five year old.

“These days get so long and I just completely forgot about time” 

Luna smiled. Ruby was now completely invested in Paw Patrol and knew she would be able to get up without her causing a stir. Harry was against Ruby watching too much TV in fear of it wrecking her small little brain. 

Harry was an exceptionally good father to Ruby. Luna was always a bit shy around him for some reason. Harry is the CEO of a major music corporation. Dressed to the nines in Gucci, Yves Saint Laurent, Hermes, Versace. Harry filled every CEO stereotype for Luna, minus the personality. She’d only ever seen him at work once to comment on his work personality, strict and professional. But his home personality was one Luna was in awe of.

Incredibly attentive to his little girl he would often tell her to ‘Treat People With Kindness’ and always make her say ‘Always’ after just so that she would fully apply said saying in every aspect of her life. Ruby had told her that her daddy reads her stories every night and does ‘all kinds of voices!’. There was something about Harry acting fatherly that just had Luna drooling. 

“Hey, don’t mention this to Harry, yeah?” Fenn asked.

“Of course not. I’ll get out your hair.” Luna politely excused.

“No Mummy! You can’t let her leave! Tonight is daddy’s taco night! Luna loves tacos!” Ruby pleaded tugging at her mother's thousand pound dress. Fenn simply brushed away her small hands with a tut.

“How can I forget, it is Friday.” Fenn sighed.

“Stay Luna! You are more than welcome to. Seems like you’re wanted.” She smiled looking down at Ruby who had completely mastered puppy dog eyes.

“Mmmm, I don’t know” Luna pretended to think. 

“Luluuuuuu” Ruby moaned. 

Luna’s eyes darted back to Ruby with a smile on her face.

“Well I do love tacos.”

Luna never questioned the secrets that Fenn asked her to keep from Harry. Letters in the mail that Fenn would take and do a nod that indicated that Luna shouldn’t say anything. Or just those extra hours after the time that she or Harry said she would be home. Often, they’d be a whole day.

Who was Luna to complain, or say anything, when she lived the good life? After all, Fenn could just need an hour or so more at work, or shopping, brunching or anything else that she did during the day. Luna didn’t ask many questions about Fenn and Harry because she was here to do one thing and that was to look after the little bundle of joy with bright green eyes and brown hair. 

“Oh Luna, hello love. You joining us?” Harry asked.

He looked as handsome as ever. After an eight hour work day, his suit was still immaculate, his head was a little disheveled but he looked like a dream. 

“I was informed it's taco night.” Luna replied.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” She added.

Harry shrugged his suit jacket off and hung it over the breakfast bar chair, earning a tut from Fenn on how ‘we don't leave stuff around like that! Hang it up!’. Which Harry returned his a roll of the eyes and threw his jacket on the bottom of the stairs. Luna tried not to act startled as the eight hundred pound jacket sat idle on the stairs gaining crinkles by the minute. She tried hard not to think that that was just under a two weeks wage for her. 

“Well, if only I had a little helper, I could get stuff done quickly and have time to put it away” Harry coaxed. Looking around the room avoiding his daughters glare.

“Daddy! I’m here! I’ll help! Lulu will help too, won’t you?” Ruby asked.

“You have to ask her nicely, bug.” Harry encouraged.

“Please Lulu, please help” Ruby asked, side eyeing her daddy to ensure she was saying the right thing.

Harry chuckled as he unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled them up so he was ready to make some tacos.

You nodded, rolling your own sleeves up in preparation.

“Guess I’ll just go make myself scarce for a while then” Fenn said already walking away.

“Mummy has long pretty nails, she doesn’t like getting things under them” Ruby explained.

“I see, she’s smart.” Luna replied.

“What have you and Lulu been up to today then bug?” Harry asked as he collected things from the fridge after popping the kettle on.

For some reason, Luna just loves it when he refered to her as Lulu.

“Well, Lulu picked me up from school, and she brought me a treat today Daddy because it's a Friday, I always get a treat on Fridays”

“Oh yeah? She did? What did you get?”

“You can’t tell Mummy, Daddy.” Ruby warned, holding her pinky finger out in order to secure his promise.

“Okay, I’ll keep your secret” He sighed playfully as he stuck out his pinky.

“A twix!” She spoke in hushed tones.

“A twix!” Harry exclaimed laughing.

“Shhh Daddy!” 

“That Lulu’s good to you.” Harry spoke.

“And you Daddy, you get me a twix when Mummy isn’t around.”

“Ru! Thought that was our secret!”

“Yeah but, Lulu is cool, Lulu can know our secrets, she’s part of our cool club.” Ruby reasoned.

“And rightly so.” Harry smiled.

The two began preparing things for tacos. Ruby asking Luna for a little help once in a while, with things like grating cheese and getting the cucumber chopped (which mostly consisted of Luna chopping).

“How are you my love?” Harry asked. “Feel like I haven’t spoken to you in forever.” 

“I’m good, thank you, just busy with school and things. How are you?” She asked back. 

Luna consistently checked on Ruby ensuring that she was being safe in the kitchen, which of course, she was. 

“Remember, you ever need a break, just let me know.” He said, turning to look at her with a stern face to further leave an impression on her.

“I’ve been good, busy with work also. Lucky I’m ‘ere for Taco Friday!” He said bumping hips with the five year old stood beside him. 

“Taco Friday is Daddy’s favourite” Ruby informed Luna.

“Then I’ll just have to make sure I do a good job on this cucumber.” Luna smiled earning a grin from Harry. 

♡☾

It had been a few weeks since Taco Friday. Luna was still slightly overwhelmed with school, but was managing just fine. She’d pick Luna up from school on this Friday with, again, her favourite treat, a twix. 

“Then Lulu, today, Georgie said that she was going to have that party! They argued on the playground and it was horrible!” Ruby exclaimed after Luna had asked about her day.

The walk from Ruby’s school to her house wasn’t long at all, and normally Ruby chatted the whole way and kept time going quickly.

Normally, when the two arrive back after school no one is in for another two hours, surprised to see Harry’s Audi R8 on the drive.

“Looks like Daddy’s home early today Ru, how exciting!” Luna encouraged.

Ruby’s head tilted as she too had noticed her father's car.

“He’s never home early, my Daddy is a busy man he says” She observed.

Opening the Styles family front door the house was oddly quiet for someone to have been home.

“Daddy!” Ruby called.

After receiving no answer, she began to climb the stairs. Luna followed in tow, 

“Daddy?” Ruby called again.

Ruby checked her own room and the bathroom and was disappointed not to find her father after being excited at the sight of his car.

Ruby went charging towards Harry and Fenn’s bedroom, Luna tried to stop her, not wanting to intrude in their private spaces, but wasn’t able to get there in time to grab Ruby before she was barging in. 

Luna became startled as Ruby whispered a questionable ‘Daddy?’ and she saw Harry in the corner of the bedroom.

Luna always thought of Harry to be a strong, dependable man. Yet, here he was, teary red eyed, sniffling away clutching a piece of paper.

 Before anything could have been said or done, Luna swooped up Ruby in her arms and tempted her out with a Twix.

“Lulu, what’s wrong with my Daddy?”

♡☾