#but i feel like my interests are naturally going elsewhere

[13eyond13]

.

[death---dealer]

Bitter Sweet. ( Five x Reader Oneshot. )

i have no explanation other than my babies are still alive and that season 4 never happened SEASON 4 NEVER HAPPENED---- Give me snarky, asshole, pragmatic five back before i die. Reblogs/likes/comments all appreciated, thank u.

Title: Bitter Sweet. Fandom: The Umbrella Academy. Pairing: Heavily Implied ! Five x Reader. Rating: T. ( Language, lol. ) Words: 1.2K+ Summary: ( Taking place in an AU after season 4, let me live in my fantasy that's what fanfics are FOR ). You knew how specific Five was about his coffee. You knew he would speak his mind regarding and it was too much fun to let go of.

════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ 

Four cubes. 

No, no… Five felt his mouth part in astonishment, crystal clear green eyes peering in languid judgment as your plucked another sugar cube from a pristine porcelain bowl and plopped it right into the white coffee cup that was placed in front of you. It sploshed happily, absorbing the coffee and sweetening the deal for you to enjoy, but that was never the point in the grand scheme. You were ardently aware of how irritating it was, one cube after another. The quantity itself was deliberate and you knew… How you were able to feel his stare hell-bending holes into your face. He was unable to see the liquid despite trying with a narrow gaze but he was willing to bargain much of what he owned that it was pale in color, not even teetering towards tan but more towards plain white.

 A grimace was noticed by Klaus who bargained a chuckle as he looked towards you, seated beside him with raised eyebrows of acute amusement, “You’re desecrating whatever coffee you had, I think Five is going to lunge across the table and take you by the neck---” “Five can shove it.” The innocence that rode against your face was evident as the Hargreeves man  across from you scoffed under his breath at the juxtaposed expression coupled with the aggressive nature of your words. “It’s my cup, not his. We can’t all drink it b---”

“Black like my soul, right?” Five rolled his eyes, shoulders drawing themselves in some minor defense and you were able to see the tightness of which he held himself from the tailored nature of his suit. Five was lanky and skinny, but that didn't seek to say that he was without defined muscles against his sweeping collarbones and it was evident in certain motions that left you reeling back from the hardened words that he responded with.

“Get some original insults, (Name). You’re becoming way too predictable. Boring even---” His voice was incredulous, sticking towards monotonous but still held irate interest in speaking to you, only detectable around the edges and it sang against your ears. 

Flirtatious only to you, aggressive and leaned with hatred to others. A game of cat and mouse, though at times, you were unsure of which one you were playing. “I was going to say bitter just like your personality, but you know me. Predictable.” Klaus held a defensive hand up, grasping at his own cup and pretending he was beckoned elsewhere to avoid the confrontation that was inevitable coming in the way that Five cleared his throat, a hand raising and tightening the bundle of fabric where his tie rested against his throat. 

He straightened it, you noticed with acute mirth, but there was no need to. It was already perfectly placed, part of the morning ritual you imagined he held close to his chest after spending so long cultivating it. Five was… A creature of habit, to many extents. Needless to say, it was one of those simple actions that you enjoyed seeing none-the-less, fingers twitching in a finite need to deshevel the pin-black tie to further push the boundary of where you and Five so often tightroped. No solace was given to either party as his knuckles rubbed against the underside of his sharpened jaw. There was hostility tangling in with notes of attractive coyness as he snapped at you, “You’re a goddamn monster, you know that? Fuck---” “I’m not the one getting angry over how someone else makes their coffee.” You bit back without reserve and another sickly smile placed towards the brunette as you finally picked up your spoon and allowed it to sink into the cup. It scraped -- Horrid, Five felt a shiver run down his spine at the vibrations he could feel against the oak table from your simple movement. Like nails against a chalkboard. 

“Can you even call that coffee?” Five spliced and looked down at his own mug, half-emptied and his saliva still coating and drying where he had last taken a drink against the curve. “Did ya even put any in there? Any beans? Any espresso?” “There’s some in here.” There was a justification with a faux pout which Five remarked as being feverishly unfair. You were good at playing expressions, he was good at playing words. “I think….” You mused and lifted your cup up to your mouth and kissed the rim. Five swallowed hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing which was feasted upon by your eyes before you took a long sip. Control rested in your hands as you refused to let him look away from you. 

Five sneered, your eyes taking in the delectations of seeing his sharpened canines. “You’re going to lose all your teeth from all the shit you put in that. Creamer and then what? Five sugar cubes? Are you a horse? Want me to feed you them straight from my hand?” There was a rustling sound as Five leaned inwards, his suit jacket pulling up with the motion that was placed as he so graciously plucked a sugar cube from the bowl that had been nearly emptied by you and offered it in the palm of his hand. “C’mon, take it. Be a good little horse.” “”Ha-ha,” You laughed sarcastically, smacking his gesture away which sent the cube flying off to be cleaned up later. “I’ll bite your fingers clean off.” “Not if you don’t have any fucking teeth! I kind of hope you do lose them. Hell, take me to the dentist when you get them pulled, I’ll bring them home and make a necklace for you.”

“You DIY things, Five?” There was another laugh from you as you took a sip of your drink, “Never pegged you to be that crafty.” There was emphasis on the word ‘pegged’, Five catching hold of the implication which garnered you that shit-eating grin that was more than infamous at this point. “Just this once.” He smirked, giving you a dimpled smile of feigned innocence to rival the one you splayed for him earlier. Sitting up in his seat, it scooted against the floor below with a loud bellow and you watched with bated astonishment as he leaned against the table to bring his upper half closer to you. Face only inches apart now, you refused to relent eye contact with him and tried to desperately shove down the connotation that you were able to clearly smell the after-shave that he favored. Pinely in scent, you wanted to grasp at his chin and feel the stubble against your fingers but that wasn’t the point here. The point was to be the cat while Five was forced to be the mouse.

“Just for you, a nice necklace and some earrings. Bracelet, maybe? A matching set. You'd look like such a doll."

“I’ll wear the set to your funeral. Clutch them instead of my pearls as I sob, telling everyone what a wonderful ray of sunshine you were to be around before you so tragically died.”

“Is that a date?” 

Five huffed at you as you stood from your seat, his gawk watching the movement with hostility as you craned your body towards him and grasped the base of his tie. Enlightened with curiosity, the disgusting smile of attraction rose along his cheeks, quickly torn to shreds as you pulled the tie downwards, the knot coming undone without reserve. 

“With you six feet under? You bet your damn ass it is.”

[judesmoonbeauty]

Your Hand Please, My Lady CE: Jude Jazza Story

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

Jude was chosen to be my butler for a day through the Evil King game —

Jude: Good morning, Miss Kate. You seem well-rested today.

That morning when Jude came to my room, he spoke in beautiful Queen’s English.

(Jude’s accent is gone?! Moreover, why am I being called Miss….)

Kate: ….This is a dream, right?

Thinking it was a dream I sank back to bed when Jude grabbed my arm.

Jude: Excuse me, Miss Kate. I am also terribly disappointed, but this is not a dream.

Kate: I can feel you grabbing me….then this is real….?

Jude: Yesterday, Mister Victor gave an extremely unpleasant….no, a pleasant order, didn’t he?

Jude: To become a butler for one day.

Kate: Ah, that’s right….

Kate: I understand. Please take care of me today.

Jude: No, it’s I who should say that. Please take care of me today, Miss Kate.

Jude: Anyway, that wild hairstyle…..it’s like a work of art. It’s an honor to see it.

(Maybe, do I have bed hair…?)

Kate: I-I’m sorry. It’s unsightly! I’ll fix it right away.

Jude: Ah no, leave it as it is, my lady.

(What, leave my bed head as it is…?)

Jude: I’ll fix it for you, so please have a seat.

Kate: ….You will do it Jude?

Jude: Since I am your butler for today.

Jude skillfully arranged my hair, and tied it up neatly.

Afterwards, I was guided to the dining room where breakfast had been prepared.

(Jude’s an immaculate butler. But…)

Jude: My lady. You’re taking your time eating your meal with that small mouth.

Jude: As a result, tidying up will be delayed……no, please be careful, all right?

Kate: ….Thank you.

(Even though his tone was polite, his words somehow sounded sarcastic….)

He isn’t criticizing me as he usually does, so I can’t talk back, it’s oddly difficult.

Liam: Jude becoming a butler seems interesting! I wanted to see it, but…..it seems a bit shameless doesn’t it?

Kate: That’s just your nature Liam…..

Liam: Kate, now that Jude is your butler, you can do whatever you want.

Liam: Like going shopping and carrying your bags! I’m curious about Jude being used by you, Kate.

Jude: ….You’re using me to satisfy your curiosity? Mr. Liam, joke around in moderation.

Liam: Wow, scary!

Liam: But, Jude didn’t you ask me the other day about products women may like?

Liam: I don’t think it would be a bad idea to listen to Kate’s opinion while shopping.

Ellis: Kate’ll be happy to release her frustration, and Jude’ll be happy to do market research…..

Ellis: ….Yep, I think that’s very good.

Liam: Right?

Ellis and liam both approached Jude with sparkling eyes.

Jude: ……Seems like the both of you will be completely noisy until we go out?

So at Ellis’ and Liam’s recommendation, I went out with Jude.

There’s a hint of sarcasm in everything Jude says, but he carries all of my bags without being asked, fulling his role as a butler with precision.

(Although it was an order from the evil king game….., I’m starting to feel a bit sorry.)

(I’ll tell Jude that this is the last time he needs to pretend being a butler.)

As I stood in the bathroom and thought this, I started back to Jude.

At that moment —

Man: Excuse me. I’m lost, could you give me directions.

Kate: Yes, of course. Where are you going?

Man: It’s in this direction. Come with me for a moment.

Kate: What? That…

(This man…does he really need directions?)

Just as he was about to forcefully grab my arm, I stopped in confusion, and the man’s attitude changed.

Man: Tch…you’re Jude Jazza’s woman right? Listen up and follow me!

Kate: Mmgh.

A cloth was placed over my mouth preventing me from calling for help, and I was snatched away immediately.

I was taken to a warehouse-like place and my hands were tied with ropes.

(…..I wonder how many times I’ve been involved as Jude’s woman.)

(Come to think of it, when I was commanded to become Jude’s maid….)

[Flash Back Begins]

Jude: If yer gonna follow me ‘round, ya gotta ditch all the niceties ’n goodwill.

Jude: Or if ya don’t wanna get tossed aside, then forget the damn mission ‘n go back to sleep in yer castle, princess.

[Flash Back Ends]

(Even though I was warned…..my goodwill was taken advantage of.)

If Jude saw me, he’d laugh and say, “See, toldja.”

(…..Ugh. If that’s the case, I’d rather not be criticized.)

(There’s a chance I may be told not to tag along anymore because he’s fed up with me.)

I still don’t know a lot about Jude, I haven’t recorded enough.

(In order to stay by Jude’s side, I need to make it through this situation….!)

Just as the man turned his back to me, I picked up a nearby piece of wood.

I don’t have a firm grip because I’m tied with a rope, but it’s enough to swing down.

(…..Okay, now!)

I hit the man on the back of his knee, to get him to lose balance. At that time —

Jude: —You were late, so I came to collect you, my lady.

Man: Huh…..Jude Jazza?!

Jude appeared from the shadows and immediately closed the distance between him and the man,

Man: Urgh!

Jude’s brilliant roundhouse kick sent the man flying, and then fell to the ground.

Kate: ……Thank you for the help.

On the way back home, Jude stopped walking to listen as I began to speak.

Kate: But I …..I still want to know more about you, Jude.

Kate: Going forward, I’ll be more careful. So……

—So, please let me stay by your side. Before I could say anything Jude spoke.

Jude: ….Today you’re a young lady, and I am your butler.

Jude: Because of this, of course I’d help you.

(So my stupidity will be overlooked today…?)

Jude: Besides, you were swinging a piece of wood before I could even get in.

Kate: I was just completely absorbed in the moment….

Jude: …..It’s far better to beat someone to death with a piece of wood, than to be tortured.

While saying that, Jude lit a cigarette.

The long trailing smoke rises thinly into the sky and disappears.

For some reason, the lonely look on his face was burned into my heart.

Jude: ….Well, yer unfit as a young lady. Where d’ya find a young lady swingin’  wood ‘round.

Kate: You say that…., but Jude you’re also unfit as a butler!

Kate: You stopped speaking politely, and you started smoking without asking…..

Jude: If ya ain’t a young lady, then I ain’t a butler. This setup was rubbish from the start.

Jude: ….Or what, didja want me to wait on ya longer? Ya got good taste.

Kate: T-that’s not it! I….like��the usual Jude best!

Jude: ……

Kate: Ah! T-that’s not right? Not like in that way, what I meant was

Jude: Ya rather be teased than waited on, right? ….Yer a woman with bad tastes.

I was frustrated that he laughed while mocking me.

But, it’s true that Jude’s ridiculing side fits better…..

(…..Maybe I do have bad tastes.)

While I felt a tinge of uneasiness about my preference in tastes…my strange day spent with Jude as my butler ended.

Jude really struggled to not say mean things lmao. So cute watching him correct himself. Let's give the fairy an A+ for effort.

And HELLO - are we not going to talk about how he couldn't resist Liam's and Ellis sparkly eyes?? ......or about how he lit a cigarette after that one line.

[Master List] Dividers: @.natimiles Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

[hellishfig]

just finished listening to episode 34 of worlds beyond number, "something to remember you by," which is the end of arc 3 of the wizard, the witch, and the wild one, and i feel sick from how incredible it was. the physical reactions my body made to some of the words and music in this podcast really took me by surprise. i'm still reeling.

some thoughts:

i'm so happy that suvi is questioning the citadel, her reaction to silver's letter was inspired, and i LOVED her interactions with the quartermaster. she's so clever and intimidating (holy shit that was HOT), but i'm worried about what's happening to silver. i have an inkling that the witches may have already started making moves alongside the man in black, and i wonder how that will affect suvi going forward. and going to try and save silver before returning their "precious cargo" to the citadel... i hope suvi can keep questioning, and that whatever she faces, she doesn't let the justification machine run its course any longer.

eursulon meeting up with tefmet was really cool. i enjoyed the return of the strongest man in silbury immensely. it was extremely funny. and then, when eursulon asked to help and succeeded on his persuasion checks, it was solemnly touching. i love eursulon's power being in steadfast support and protection, and how to him, it's not about opposing the citadel in its entirety, it's about saving spirits, great and small, from those who would use them. and that's something he can do while still protecting his true friends.

ame let the chaos OUT this episode, and it was delightful and nerve wracking and thrilling to listen to. she's very bossy and it's so funny to hear how immediately eursulon goes along with it, despite not knowing what "it" is. growing up watching grandma wren, she seems to have gained a natural authority that makes people who love her listen to her when she asks them to perform innocuous menial tasks. but that's also interesting, because her chaos is focused, if imprecise. she knows what she needs to do and will do it, damn the consequences. as long as she can get away, who cares what she leaves in her wake? that's a problem for future ame.

they stole some brass knockers and a lion! they kidnapped nif to save her from being killed by indri! tof burned bright to free a vrock! suvi heads to war, eursulon and ame TO TOMA! (i almost cried when eursulon said those words and the music swelled. what the fuck, lou. what the FUCK taylor and jared. i'm not okay!!!)

and then of course, brockvale. holly hill. the resting place of sir curran of the hawthorn, who unknowingly sent eursulon on a quest that would lead him to our story. the man in black, the pilgrim under stars, the king of knight, the stranger, holds sir curran's shield. he comes to make an offer. will this poor old guard bid a weary traveler to step over this threshold?

this is why worlds beyond number feels so different to me from other dnd shows and podcasts. these artists have come together with the shared goal of not just playing a fun game that they all enjoy, but with the express aim of crafting a brilliant story. i love a goofy campaign full of shenanigans as much as the next person, but i adore how every choice in this show is given weight and meaning. there are no decisions made for laughs. it doesn't feel like playing a game. it feels like living in the story.

and there are also moments like the ending of this episode. a snapshot of elsewhere in the world, something the players don't know, but the audience gets to. it fills out the edges of the story and provides a richer tapestry of lore and reasoning behind the machinations of those who oppose our heroes. it gives life to the tale.

my heart is beating so fast. this show is incredible. thank you, @worldsbeyondpod , for the world you're creating.

[dhampling]

one mine, both yours bard gn!reader, 1.6k

‘Is my resident corvid lacking ample opportunity to thieve elsewhere? Surely not.”

His gaze wavers slightly, but his own smile remains firmly wide. He wants information. By right of him finding these pages, he sees himself as entitled to it.

-

astarion's habit of visiting your tent leads him to your hidden pile of sonnets. your secret is out.

word count: 1,675

a massive THANK YOU to the beautiful anon who sent this my way - 'bard reader writing countless sonnets about Astarion, and him finding them' - I had a lot of fun figuring out the dynamics here, so hopefully it's something a little different!

as always, read the tags and decide your fate!

“How long have you been here?!”

You, wholly aghast, pinned at the mouth of your little tent by those playfully accusatory eyes. Loose ink-laden pages in both hands as he flickers them in the air. White scintillates against the amber of the fire outside.  

He sits cross-legged in the corner by your keepsake pack, grinning ferociously; tongue denting with the tip of a fang in pure salacion. 

“I’ve found your little stash, sweetling! How far back do all these go?”

You look to him with a hint of unease you’re aware needs to go. Offer up your own coy grin and straighten your sagging shoulders.

Astarion coughs with the flare of an announcement as you fail to respond.  

“Beneath the moon, we weave a tale,

In weighty whispers, light as lead,’

A magistrate working a courtroom. The quirk of a brow. Not once do his eyes leave you.

‘A silent yearning, a hidden trail,

Those labyrinthine corridors, we now tread.”

“You’re rifling through my things, now?’

Your churlish grin rivals his. Arms fold over your chest.

‘Is my resident corvid lacking ample opportunity to thieve elsewhere? Surely not.”

His gaze wavers slightly, but his own smile remains firmly wide. He wants information. By right of him finding these pages, he sees himself as entitled to it.

You and Astarion have - remarkably - been as thick as thieves since the moment he held a dagger to your throat beside the wreck of the nautiloid. Through your time on the road so far your own banter often supersedes general group conversation, with his quick wit and deprecating humour delighting you in their scathing execution. He gives you a sounding board to tread against whilst out in the relative wilderness of the Sword Coast and for that, you thank the stars each evening. 

You know little of his own background. You know he worked in Baldur’s Gate as a magistrate long ago. You know you offer him your own blood whenever he needs it, and that those who were displeased with his condition were told in no uncertain terms by yourself that they were welcome to leave the party.

He continues boldly on. You watch his performance with silent glee, moving from the mouth of your tent to sit lazily astride your bedroll.

“His raffish laughter, euphony so sweet,

Resounds within, stokes passion's fire’

He stops and holds a finger in the air. You lean in with mock enthral.

“So we know it’s a him.”

“Very perceptive, Astarion. Pray tell - you have considered a career with the Fist, yes?”

He playfully taps you on the leg. You roll your eyes.

‘In friendship's dance, a heart starts to beat,

As adoration emerges, a burning desire.”

Whilst notoriously catty, he has a depth to him which allows for enjoyable discussion. He’s a natural performer - with which you resonate - and yet he has layers that you haven’t quite been able to penetrate yet.

It sometimes feels almost like he’s a little surprised that you want to. That you care enough to show interest in his blatantly miserable background to press him on it. Compassionately, but still insistent. 

He jokes about it. You and your ridiculously unfounded want to listen to him. To hear his thoughts, rattle them about in your own head and give a considered response in return. A gift, he’ll smile and reassure with mirth in those late night discussions; cupping your face in one hand as you bat him away in laughter. 

“Are we quite done?” You interrupt with a smile. He senses your want to move on.

Astarion drops the page from his face and rests back on his palms.

“Did you ensnare him in the end?” 

“Hm?”

He picks up a chalice and looks across to you. 

“The subject. Did you beguile him? Love unrequited no more?”

A beat of silence. 

“I haven’t, no.”

A noncommittal shrug, but a hopeful look in your eye. You’re whimsical, ever-the-optimist; you can survive this.

“You haven’t?”

His eyes are awash with scandal. Leans back, swirls his wine and purses his lips with an impish tut. Scans over the page once more from afar.

“Tentative hearts paired on the floor,

One loosely mine, but both now yours.”

Another beat of silence.

It’s been a fraught time so far, but his company has made it easier. 

You’ve enjoyed multiple messy nights under the stars together, come undone at his hand more than you’d care to regale him with; laughed in the early morning sunrise as he basks in the light and continued on as the closest of wayward friends. Drunk bottles and bottles of fine wine (finessed from Gale’s tent, obviously) all the way from the Emerald Grove to Moonrise, and now back again.

“Well. I liked it. The last full stanza was a little messy, but-” 

“Is that why you omitted it?’

He sniffs. 

"How long have you been sat in here?” 

You’ve caught him out, just as he has you, but there’s no urgency in your voice. No judgement nor malice. He has seen your secrets now. You’d intended on sharing them eventually, but a forced hand is better than an empty one.

“A small while. I came looking for you, realised you were elsewhere; and just found your pack open.” He smiles a little, wiggling his fingers.

“Read it to me, then. The last stanza.” You rest your chin on your palm, elbow on your crossed leg.

Astarion looks at you and surprisingly, there’s no guard. 

No triumph, no teasing in his discovery. Inhales.

“If I read it, then it’s real. Or it isn’t, but you’ll know I’ve read it.’

He sighs, muttering.

Oh.

Oh.

“Go on! Read it.”

He looks at you. Really, carefully looks at you. Inhales once more. 

“In twilight's embrace, where secrets reside,

In the quiet, ardour awoken,

A subtle shift, devotion now bides,

Astarion and I, our bond unspoken.”

“Brilliantly told. You’re a natural.” You smile, tilting your head to him.

Astarion sits and watches you for the longest of moments. Meets your eyes with his own.

“That’s it? You’re not mortified?” He queries. 

You frown.

“Why would I be?”

Astarion looks at you like you’re insane. Completely and utterly insane. His tone remains temperate but his eyes are almost frantic.

“I’ve just found your sonnets - pages upon pages, no less - all regaling our bond. Read one, aloud; to your face. You don’t recoil. You’re not ashamed?”

All bravado drips from his face like a wet cloth. His shoulders sag a little. 

You loll your head back as you sit, reaching for his chalice and taking a big sip as you ruminate. The wine steeps your teeth and tongue in a deep heady nectar. It’s good.

“You’re a good muse, Astarion. I’m fond of you.’

You lean in and whisper.

‘I may even go as far as to call you my favourite travelling companion, but don’t tell the others.”

His lips quirk softly. He’s slow to speak.

“I was looking forward to teasing you about this, you know.” He tuts and shakes his head, face statuesque in the low light.

“Then why don’t you?”

A genuine question. You still nurse his goblet of wine.

“Don’t make me say it, you brute.” 

You look at him with a quiet mischief settling across your features. His gaze remains narrow.

“You already have.’

A quiet sip. A smile.

‘Our bond.”

Gods. He is beautiful. Eyes foxlike in their stasis, defined by thick dark lashes; lingering on the strewn page in contemplation. Hair perfectly coiffed. Lithe fingers frozen in midair as he exhales.

A few beats of silence. 

Outside the tent, insects chirp and the fire crackles. The river floats languidly on. 

“I don’t know how to do this.” Astarion speaks quietly.

“What?”

“Gah- I don’t know. This. Any of it.” He confesses, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I think we’re doing a good job as we are, no?”

His gaze turns to you, hands reaching to eagerly grasp your wrists in affirmation.

“Yes! Yes. We are.’

He grimaces.

‘I didn’t expect to… I didn’t expect I’d meet someone like you again in my life. Now that I have you here, I’m rather reluctant to let you go.”

“It’s a good job you don’t have to. Provided I never catch you rifling through my things again.’

You take one last sip of your pilfered wine as your eyes meet his in the low amber. 

‘I love you. There’s no rush.”

He takes his chalice from you and downs the remaining contents.

“Minus the very real possibility I’ll watch you succumb to ceremorphosis, or vice versa; I suppose.” He mutters through closed teeth. 

You shove him with your shoulder and sigh.

“Now then. I’ve just been absolutely humiliated by my closest friend in this whole camp. I’m tired, my back hurts, and I need to rest. Can I help you with anything else?”

Astarion’s eyes linger on yours momentarily before skimming over your lips. You swear your heart skips a beat.

“Can I?”

“Gods, yes.”

Your first shared kiss unfettered by the marrings of carnal pleasure alone is beyond anything you’d hoped for.

He cradles the back of your head as his lips press softly against yours, over and over; until he’s verging on hungry with his movement. His tongue tastes of wine and he smells so overwhelmingly of him - herbal with sweetened clinical notes of brandy - that you want to bury your head into his shoulder and spoon him until the sun rises once more. 

“Oh songbird. I couldn’t tire of you if I tried, could I?” His voice heady and deep, forehead pressed to yours,

“Can I test that theory?” You tilt your head, leaning in for another small kiss. 

“Hm?” His eyes are heavy lidded, burning in the low light.

“Stay here tonight. Let me hold you.”

He stops for a minute.

“Just… hold me?”

You hum and nod, bringing a hand to his hair and carding through it softly.

Astarion smiles.

“I’d love nothing more.”

[draconym]

Hello! I’ve been interested in park ranger work for awhile— but since researching the institution a little deeper, I’m worried that park rangers are essentially forest cops. I noticed on one of your posts that you mentioned that you were a a park ranger law enforcement officer— and I was wondering if you could go into a little detail about park ranger work and it’s connection to law enforcement? Another reason I feel weird about pursuing park ranger work is I feel that national parks have a non-ignorable history of stripping land from indigenous people. If you have any thoughts or experiences related to the career— it would be extremely helpful for me to hear since I am trying to sort out what I would like to do after college. Thank you for reading. If you don’t want to answer this question either, I completely understand.

There's no singular institution. There are rangers who work for the National Park Service, for State governments, for local governments, or for cities and towns. And there are many different types of rangers: enforcement, interpretive, wilderness rescue, the list goes on. Different sites have different needs, and different positions will have different duties. Many rangers have zero law enforcement authority, and most I've spoken to prefer it that way: they prefer to focus on education and conservation.

I was an enforcement ranger, but never a law enforcement officer--the primary authority I had was the ability to issue fairly cheap citations for animal-related violations (fishing, poaching, off-leash dogs, harm to wildlife, etc.) through local Animal Control. Though some rangers elsewhere carry weapons and receive law enforcement training, my department never did (the latter, frankly, was often to our detriment).

Certainly the NPS has a history loaded with racism, land theft, land desecration, even genocide. The very inception of the NPS was predicated on the myth that the lands to be designated as National Parks were uninhabited wilderness. But don't assume the problem lies solely with NPS: any institution with even a small amount of power has the potential to abuse it, and smaller parks are no exception. I've never even worked for the NPS (my state doesn't even have any national parks), but local agencies often have histories of segregating parks or enforcing segregation within them.

I've heard people say that park rangers are the "only good" law enforcement, and that's a generalization I absolutely wouldn't make. Yes, there are laws and regulations that are necessary for the sake of conservation and our ability to safely access natural areas. That doesn't mean those laws are always universally fair or fairly enforced.

If this leaves you feeling dismayed, well, yeah. Me, too. But there are also quite a lot of positions within parks that are not rangers at all, and quite a lot of jobs within conservation and nature education that are not parks jobs. I've found both park maintenance and trail crew to be just as rewarding in many ways, and if you can live with the low salary they typically offer, I do recommend giving those positions a try. The salary was ultimately a dealbreaker for me.

I haven't been a ranger for several years. I left because the agency I was working for was undeniably a toxic work environment. This isn't intended to put you off working for parks: it's a valuable, rewarding career to educate the public about the natural world and to help maintain wild spaces. I'm grateful to still be involved with parks in other ways. But even the small agency I'm currently working for struggles to right itself. It can be rough out there.

I've already discussed a few of the above points before in my #park ranger tag, so I encourage interested folks to read there if they're interested in more of the mundane, day-to-day stuff.

[tears0fsatan]

                ♰          ・        𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐄𝐍𝐃!

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... nsfw! minors, ageless blogs and fem aligned do not interact, dom human m!reader, sub sea monster!leviathan, size difference, loss of virginity (levi LOLLLLLL what a nerd), tentacles...

 :¨·.·¨ ♥︎  a.n... obligatory levi sea monster fic but my take on it lololol (also yeah im posting this in december fuck you this is the most productive i've been in a year ok let me have this) someone wrote this really sweet tag on one of my recent works and it gen helped me out with my insecurity so thank you for that

 #﹏𖣠ㅤHEART SHAPED HICKIES MASTERLISTㅤ. . . ㅤ !! ( ☠️ )

how you found yourself in this situation, with your cock stuffed inside leviathan and his tentacles circled around your body, you weren't all too sure, all you knew was that he felt fucking amazing wrapped around you. the very mythical sea beast your ancestors had revered for thousands of years and the one they claimed to be the guardian of the seas was here writhing away beneath you, face flushed with a crimson hue that was nearly overshadowed by the fluorescent shine that matched the skin that made up his tentacles.

when you went out to search for the mysterious gaze sailors often sung about, you sure as hell hadn't thought about being entwined with the very creature you set out for.

the moment you left the reef, the heavy weight of a stare on your back ate away at your suspicions of the sailors tale that there was something watching them out at sea. it was the type of stare that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, as if sensing danger before your mind could catch up, one that reminded you just how large and desolating the ocean was.

everyone knew that a sailors story was, at its core, nothing more than an alcoholics drunken rambling. it was natural to take any tale to whichever poor bloke fell victim to their incoherent word vomit at face value and entertain them with faux interest and encouragement to break away sooner. so it came to no ones surprise that you wanted to prove their stories wrong, to confirm whether it was all hogwash to impress pretty little things into their bed or whether there really was something much bigger than a mere human such as yourself could comprehend.

all you wanted was a confirmation that such a legend could exist, everything else that occurred had be completely beyond your expectation.

a stray tentacle shakily grazed the side of your cheek, bringing you out of your short-lived flashback to focus on the watery eyes that stared up at you with poorly hidden jealousy paired with a slight pout. it took everything in you to not coo at the ancient sea beast who seemed upset that your mind was elsewhere while in the middle of being intimate with him, instead choosing to nuzzle your nose against his as a sort of unspoken act of apology.

if the tentacle relaxing against your cheek was anything to go by, it was safe to say he forgave your momentary distraction.

"don't worry, i was only thinking about you." a hot puff of air fanned over his face along with your whisper, the flush on his face growing redder. leviathan's eyes darted away, the eye contact becoming too intense for him to handle amongst all your other ministrations.

the honeyed words had more of an affect on him the longer he had to process what you uttered, for the moment they finally registered in his mind his walls clamped down around you. his reactions gave away his inexperience despite the poised demeanour he tried to mirror from, presumably, other ancient beings like himself.

"you're much more sensitive than i thought. is it because no one's ever touched you like this, leviathan?" while the idea of a sea monster who lurked beneath the waves and merely watched as intruders breached his home as they pleased had never been put in a situation like this before had you feeling more riled up than ever, it was still hard to swallow that a man this gorgeous had never been admired as he should've been.

you drank up the pretty crimson blush that, at this point, stained his cheeks, taking note of the way the shine spread across his face the more stimulated he was. it was far more adorable than it should've been for a creature double your size who could've killed you faster than you had the chance to think about it.

the weight of your stare bore down on him and in a moment of insecurity, his hands moved to cover his face in an attempt to shy away from your eyes. who could blame him? the intensity in which you looked at him with criminally inviting half lidded eyes that made him feel exposed, like one look from you had shed him of all the barriers he put up around himself and he was laid bare in front of you for you to consume whole.

even though he was the leviathan from human's stories whose unbridled envy and rage caused devastation to many from the onslaught of tsunami's and leaving only destruction in its wake, he couldn't help but feel powerless writhing underneath your gaze.

"y-you're staring too much!" he cried out, using one of his tentacles to cover his face now that his hands were out of commission. you tutted, the pretty vision below you suddenly taken away by a rogue tentacle you had no way of pushing away.

"well, i can't look at you if you keep hiding your face." in an attempt to soften his anxious mind, you rested your forehead against his, nosing gently at the tentacle that stood between you and him. despite the tenderness you showed through your nuzzling, your hips spoke of a different story. he stuttered at your rough pace, the earlier kindness for his inexperienced self nowhere to be found.

while keeping one hand wrapped around his wrists so they couldn't move and come between you and the captivating shimmering flush that dusted his face, you reached out for the tentacle that obstructed your view. it didn't struggle in your gentle hold, letting you pick it up and guide it to your face as you willed. little by little, you brought it closer to your mouth, darting your tongue out to take an experimental lick.

the texture was what you expected, similar to the feeling of the inside of his mouth but not exactly, the liquid that coated the tentacle akin to the saliva that dribbled down leviathan's chin with a slightly sweet undertone. it was slightly rougher than you initially imagined, perhaps due to the element that made the skin shine, like that of a softer cow tongue.

the other tentacles surrounding him flailed, whether in pleasure or overstimulation you couldn't quite determine. just as much as his reactions turned you on, your gestures were equally arousing to him and it showed in the way he clenched around you and the way each individual tentacle twitched in their own way.

if someone had told you that your search for the sea beast that sailors talked all high and mighty about was here, whimpering and whining at the slightest movement of your hips you wouldn't have believed them in a thousand years and yet, here you were. perhaps going with your impulsion and taking the chance to seek out the tales was the best decision you had ever made.

© 2023 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t translate, modify, repost or plagiarise my works anywhere.

[avinwrites]

Glimmers of Gratitude || Norton x reader

Synopsis: You've become close with Norton Campbell despite his erratic behavior. On a particularly bad day, you have something that cheers him up!

Norton… scares you a little bit. He always has this distant, unpleasant look on his face, and while he isn’t directly mean to anyone, he seems annoyed at all times. Despite this, you’ve had good conversations with him. Mostly just pleasantries that happen to evolve into real discussions, such as asking him how his day has been and you end up talking about good and bad experiences for what feels like hours. You naturally get along with him, and you can both appreciate that. Occasionally, he’ll become distant towards you, almost out of nowhere. His temper is somewhat unpredictable, but you make it through with some effort on your part. Right now, however, he seems to be in one of his moods. 

He hasn’t talked to you all morning. Even when you waved, sat next to him, asked him how he slept, nothing. You were going to keep at it, you get the feeling that he’s having a rough time and you want to help him through it, but you had to participate in a match. During this match, thankfully, you were left alone to decode. While moving from one cipher to another, you caught something shining on the ground, a very interesting looking rock. When you first pick it up, it’s unassuming, like a normal rock, but once you shine it in the light, you see specks of gold and green and yellow, that just leave you in awe. It reminds you of a certain pair of eyes.

When you get back from that match, without thinking, you go to knock on his door, eager to show him the acquisition you are oh so proud of. It takes him a long time to answer the door after you knock, so long that you think he’s elsewhere, but, slowly, the door creaks open to reveal Norton with horrid posture and eye bags as dark as his mental state. You look from his face to behind him for a short moment, debating with yourself whether or not to leave him alone, but you really can’t stand to see him in this kind of shape, and your will to make him feel better overpowers your dread of making him feel worse. You stand there, silent for an uncomfortable period of time. 

“I wanted to ask you a question, but I get it if you aren’t in the mood to talk.” You start, having difficulty making eye contact with him.

Wordlessly, he opens his door wider to invite you in, shrugging in the process. From your pocket, you fish out the small, unassuming rock you found earlier, taking his hand and placing it gently on his palm. 

“Look.” You tell him, shining a light on the rock to show him the dazzling sparkles deep within it. He watches with you, paying close attention as you show him all the interesting spots you found.

“You had a question?” He finally responds, whilst taking a closer look at your finding.

“Oh, right, I was going to ask you if you knew what it was.”

“Looks to me like Bornite.” He says, matter-of-factly. You weren’t expecting the quick answer. You watch as he closely inspects the mineral and continues. “It’s commonly found in copper mines, but it's not a rare ore. I used to see it a lot…” He trails off, lost in his thoughts once again.

You take a deep breath before taking his hands in yours. You’re determined to boost his spirits at least a little.

“I saw the gold and the green, and the way that it seemed to shine… the first thing that came to my mind was your eyes. Seeing them next to the rock… your eyes are prettier.” You pause before your attempt at flirtation, not knowing how he’ll take it. 

At first, the silence was deafening. You feel like you just made a horrible mistake, like you had poked the ever-volatile bear, but after what felt like a long time, only a few seconds in reality, you notice the beginnings of a bright red spread across his face. He’s stunned. Then, he does the unexpected. He smiles at you. 

“Thanks.” That soft grin widens slightly. His singular word seems to have more application than just one. As if to say: thanks for the compliment, thanks for the gift, thank you for noticing me, and thank you for your comfort.

“Anytime.” You reply with a smile of your own, reciprocating each appreciation with an acknowledgement of your own. 

Maybe you could have said more; maybe you should have. But for now, just being in his presence, both smiling and happy, is enough. There would be plenty of time and opportunity to talk further, but right now, words aren’t needed when you can see his eyes, sparkling just for you.

[roseboysstuff]

ok so im currently listening to Santa Baby by Ariana Grande(feat. Liz Gillies) and whenever i hear "santa baby" all i sang is "santa daddy" anyways, i want to request a dilf Carlos Olivera (you could also do leon if you're more comfy with that) wearing a santa costume (without the white hair and beard because i think their natural hair color is hotter) punishing the reader for being on his naughty list. any kink is open, make it nasty like incest (which honestly would make it better) okay now that i thought of the incest shit i want the reader's mom to be the one who ask for Carlos/leon to wear the smegsy santa costume (she like bought it or somethn) and she request to have sex with our daddy but daddy refuse becuase he was ✨TiReD✨ then while sleeping he wore the santa outfit and climb to the reader's bedroom window (daddy is commited to the role) and then that is where the smegsy shit starts to happen🤤🤤 anyways now that i read this again before sending i sound soo desperate and lonely (i am T.T)

ps: have a good day ahead and take care of yrslf ❤️

Imma do Leon since I don't write for carlos but this idea is so fucking tasty I also made it incest because the idea stuck in my mind hehe so it's dad/son incest

Leon loved your mom, but some of the requests she came up with to spice up their sex life were interesting. They hadn't had sex for a while, and while she assumed it was just them both being busy and tired, you and Leon knew why. He didn't have time to fuck his wife, when he was busy fucking their son. So when he dressed up like Santa, he didn't get hard from her sitting on his lap, and eventually she gave up and went to bed. Leon wasn't going to join her for a while, however, his mind was elsewhere. You woke up to your window sliding open, and were about to scream, until you saw the familiar blue hue in his eyes. "Dad? What are you doing?" He simply shushed you and continued climbing in through your window. The santa outfit was very comical to you, and certainly not something that would normally look attractive, but he managed to make it look good. He sat on your bed, and in a slightly hushed voice, he said "Why don't you sit on Santa's lap?" You realised what he was doing and instantly felt yourself getting wet at his husky tone. And so you walked over and sat on his lap, getting comfy, feeling his cock against you, hardening quickly. He kept whispering in your ear, that same low, quiet tone sending shivers down your spine. "What does my baby boy want for Christmas, hm? Because I've got something big I want to give you." With that, he moves you so you are facing him, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he pulls the bright red pants down ever so slightly. He's rock hard, and all for you. He reaches inside your pants, and chuckles when he feels the wetness, knowing that despite yourself, you are enjoying seeing him dressed up like this. "You've been a good boy all year, but you're still on my naughty list. So Santa is going to fuck you until you melt, okay?" You're gently lowered onto his cock, and you start bouncing away. One of his hands stays on your hip, the other covers your mouth so your mom doesn't hear what's going on. You're too far gone to care about noise, but he doesn't want his wife to walk in on this scene. His cute little son, riding his cock, it's for his eyes only. And the sight of you cumming on his cock, letting out the smallest of whimpers, as he shoves his fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet, it's the best Christmas present he's ever gotten.

[candiid-caniine]

dumb dog's guide to self-denial

this was by far the most popular option in my last poll so here goes! full disclosure, i am a drooling idiot so i can't promise i won't miss some things. i can promise, however, that 1) i will do my best!! dogs are v enthusiastic!! and 2) there will be no bioessentialist kink of any kind within this post. adding to it with such things will get you blocked. if you're looking for that, go the hell elsewhere :)

disclaimer: i cannot give you advice that will "simply work" because nobody can. your body, your effort, and your time are all variables which I cannot account for with any certainty, so this is meant to get you started with finding your ideals when it comes to orgasm denial. it's not about learning to edge as much as me/for as long as me/as hard as me/whatever - everyone is different!

my approach to this is basically...building a dom/owner/whatever you'd like to call your ideal "denial partner" in your head. if you're single, either by choice or by chance, or you have a partner/s who isn't interested in being involved w/ your denial, this basically means being your own owner! so how does one do that? and how is that supposed to help with denial? you may be asking.

well, denial is about self-control, at least at the beginning. if you're new to this, that's probably what you're struggling with! your body loves orgasms, and it's used to getting release when it's stimulated. you start off a session wanting to edge, intending not to cum, but...you just can't; your body pushes you too far. when you've cultivated self-control, at some point your body starts to accept that edging also feels good, but until that point, it's all willpower.

only, part of being a submissive is wanting to surrender your willpower. so my solution to that was always playing both sub and dom, sort of at once, and to make a habit of it, so that even when you're in subspace it's not too far beyond you. how does that work if you're not a switch? you may be asking.

well...when you touch yourself, you probably fantasize, right? or you watch porn, or read erotica, etc. you may not be a switch, or have any urge to dom, but odds are you have an idea of how you'd like to be talked to. so start there.

want to be praised and trained like a beloved pet? when your body starts to get more excited, talk to yourself, and yes, it always feels stupid at first. "good boys don't cum without permission, isn't that right?" "so close to the edge, aren't you? now stop. stop right now. good girl." "be a good puppy and leave those puppy parts alone, calm down for me. good pet." whisper it if you have to, but do say it aloud. repeating it in your head isn't going to be enough at the start. eventually, maybe, but not yet. or do you want to be degraded and talked down to? tell yourself you don't deserve to cum, you're a pathetic toy, you're such a loser for obeying. then obey. in essence, emulate the dom that's in your fantasies. this is step 1. let your inner dom set some arbitrary, easy limits: just one more edge, then you can cum. or five more minutes, then you can cum. don't take away the goal of cumming just yet. and i do mean easy.

what if you don't have concrete fantasies/are imagining more sex acts than actual dirty talk? then get some! set aside 20-30 minutes before your edging attempt and get to dirty daydreaming! visualize the way you like being talked to, then enact it to, for, and by yourself. note the time to start this is before you've ever touched, if it's not already natural to you.

step 2: get comfortable with it. work a little of your "inner dom" into other aspects of your life; don't worry too much about the edging sessions, just get comfortable with this new persona or habit. when you finish a hard task, call yourself a good boy/girl/pet. when you're getting undressed for the shower, ask yourself, sexily, "is this for me?" and then your choice of pretty/handsome little thing or dirty little slut. invoke your inner dom in other areas of your life you imagine enjoying control. remember: you have to learn to bear through edging on self-control alone before you start to really lean into it from an internal perspective. and when you're edging, it's really hard for that to be the only time you're trying to do this.

step 3: when it's becoming more habitual, it's time to bring the edging up a notch. start setting true limits, experimenting with various things. these are the parameters i recommend experimenting with, one at a time, empirical-style:

how many edges can you do in one session before your urge to cum outweighs your inner dom? can you stretch this, with practice?

how does your body feel edging over and over again for 1 hour, vs. edging once per hour the whole day? more desperate and fuzzy, or less?

how does your body feel being teased slowly up to the edge vs. brute-forced into as quick an edge as possible? can you shorten, or lengthen, the times for each?

how close to the edge can you get yourself before a ruin becomes inevitable? what signs in your body point to this - tightening, contracting, throbbing, temperature, tingling? from there, can you roughly estimate a timeframe or amount of certain types of stimulation?

does setting aside specific times of day to edge, and not permitting it outside those times, frustrate/distract you more? or does allowing yourself to edge whenever you have time/feel like it frustrate/distract you more?

is it better to (eventually) cum directly after a long edging session, or to allow yourself to cool down completely and *then* cum?

how many methods of edging (insertion, fingering/stroking, vibration, humping, nipples, etc) can you perform, and in how many positions?

is it more frustrating to gently stroke/fondle yourself once every few minutes for the whole day without edging, or to edge repeatedly in a short period for an hour once a day?

there's a lot more you can try out. i recommend keeping a journal for all this. setting these kinds of goals and experiments for yourself will both a) keep you engaged intellectually and motivated, and b) get you in better communication with your own body. throughout all this, continue practicing that inner dom persona. praise yourself, degrade yourself, have dialogues with yourself; tell yourself to be useful or good, then respond with a pout and a "yes" and your choice of honorific.

more ideas/challenges can be found all over BDSMlr if you look for "edging challenges," but be aware many of them contain bioessentialist themes/language.

step 3.5: most d/s relationships have a reward/punishment hierarchy. so as you're taking step 3, explore what motivates you more - punishment, or reward - and, conversely, what gets you subbier: having more, or less of what motivates you. i'll explain, but:

when you fail a goal by going over the edge or ruining, what's the punishment that makes you feel the most repentant? is it impact, humiliating yourself somehow, some other unpleasant sensation, writing lines or other tedium? what makes you feel the least inclined to disobey again?

when you succeed at a goal, what reward makes you feel most fulfilled? is it an orgasm? several orgasms? sweet treats? a good smoke session? buying new lingerie? some combination of them?

from there: what successes or failures feel most, to least, deserving of the worst/best punishments and rewards? can you rank them?

and then: are you noticing you meet goals more when you're punished strictly, or rewarded fairly?

then here's the complex bit...does it align more, or less, with your desired form of submission to be consistent like that, or inconsistent? do you want a dom who always gives you the same caliber of reward/punishment for the same actions, or one who's cruel enough to keep you guessing at their whims? do you want a dom who adheres to you being more reward- or punishment- motivated, or a dom who doesn't care what motivates you, but rather what pleases them?

when you reward/punish yourself, thank or apologize to yourself, too :)

step 4: keep taking notes, but ask yourself these questions (you may want to take a break from edging just to have a clear mind):

why do i want to stay denied? is it because i like the challenge, or because i like a feeling like helplessness, neediness, vulnerability, or dumbness?

once you have that question answered, move on to: which of the ways/variables i tested while edging best gives me the feeling i'm looking for? was it more frustration, or less? was it frustration in small doses through the day, or all at once at a predictable time? was it switching up my methods, or staying consistent?

do i want to feel dumb/humiliated/put in my place/crushed by denial, or do i want to feel empowered/secured/confident because of it? which of the variables i tested made me feel the way i wanted?

your answer to many of these may be "both" or "i don't know," to which i suggest you spend some time on each. you'll either have a preference, or you'll switch back and forth, or find some middle ground - up to you.

one thing i've noticed is a theme among my advice asks is: how do i stay denied as long/edge as much as you, and that's for you to figure out if you even should. it's time to ask the question, what feels more doable for me: longer time periods without orgasms, or more edges total? you might say "both," to which i'd say, you and every newbie denial sub! it is 100% more feasible to pick one or the other as a goal at a time. hone those skills separately, and they'll naturally come together eventually if you decide you want them to.

step 5: reach for the stars! if you want to, that is :) you may just find you like a stable pattern of denial. you may find that pushing too hard past a certain point causes dropping. you may find that pushing too hard causes life stress. orrr you may find that "more" is never enough...like myself lol. any/all/it changing/some of each is 100% okay. or maybe you get off (or not) on setting impossible challenges and reaping the punishment for it :)

by this time, your body will have hopefully gotten past the awkward "mind thinks edging is hot, but so hot that i cum when trying to do it" phase. a combo of inner dom chatter + having intellectual/introspective challenges to work through was what got me to where i am right now lol. at some point, having my owner there to take the mental load off was great, but also, i'm so used to it that i still dom myself a lot lol. and a quick note: this may not work for you. that's okay, too: that's all part of your learning process. maybe you need external validation, and that's all there is to it - you're at least one step closer to understanding how denial works for you!

i'll finish with some lecturing to your "inner dom:"

good doms obey limits. if you don't like something you try, no matter how mean your inner dom is, you don't have to put up with it again.

good doms know life happens. if real life gets in the way of edging/completing goals, a good dom would never presume to come above that shit. if edging/completing goals is getting in the way of real life, a good dom would adjust so that it doesn't. responsibilities should continue to take precedence.

good doms are risk-aware. if you're experimenting with pain, bondage, anal, sensation play, etc., do what every good dom should do and educate yourself first! know the risks, and implement strategies to mitigate them.

good doms provide aftercare. take care of yourself on the comedown. try to allow time between a session and IRL responsibilities to recenter.

and finally, just a bit of affirmation for you, the person, as you navigate this exciting new lifestyle:

if you're not having fun, don't do it!

you are fully capable of this. whether it's my method or someone else's, if this is what you want, and it feels good, you can do it. you are not a bad sub if you can't, or if you can't do it the way someone else does.

this is not a masculine thing, or a feminine thing, or an enby thing, or a straight thing, or a gay thing, etc. it's not even a sub thing, really, but the sub perspective is the only one i can speak on. it's a kink, or a kink enhancer, that is "for" anyone who likes it!

in that vein, reject that which does not work for your body. do not be afraid to pass up edging advice just because someone seems to know what they're talking about. you also do not have to accept bioessentialist undertones just because it seems like good advice.

and finally: yes, you can dom yourself. you are capable, you are trustworthy (probably more so than even some doms lol), and you are absolutely worthy of your own submission and devotion.

have fun, stay safe, and drip a little, if it suits you c; (and don't hesitate to ask questions on my blog if you still have them!)

[seventeenytiny]

✿ Spring Fever✿

Smut: Minors DNI

You and Hyunjin go for a walk through a local nature trail and things get pretty heated.  Contains: public sex, fingering, female reader, slight name calling, squirting, unprotected sex (assume reader is on birth control)

Word Count: 1500

Author’s note: I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of Hyunjin and public sex. I apologize for this being a bit rough, I have no excuse, english is my first langue, I just suck at writing right now :))).  

You take a deep breath, welcoming the fresh air into your lungs. The sunlight that you have missed all winter warms your skin as you listen to the birds chirping. You could hardly believe how much happiness blue skies could bring you after months of endless gray. You hold Hyunjin’s hand tightly as the two of you walk down the path of your favorite nature trail, placing kisses on each other's cheeks, simply enjoying the moment. The trail was quiet, it was a bit of a hidden gem in your town, not everyone knew about it. Long, overgrown grass surrounded the edges of the trail, offering a bit of privacy.

You notice a small trail that leads off the main one, a tiny clearing in the long grass, most likely made by a deer.

“Hyunjin, look, there's a little trail there. Can we go see where it leads to?”

He smiles and nods. “I think there might be a little pond that way, maybe we can find some frogs.”

Hyunjin takes the lead, pulling you behind him, protecting you from any cobwebs on the long grass. You admired his strong figure leading you, how could someone be so perfect? Hyunjin was hard to resist, you couldn't help yourself as reached forward, grabbing his ass. He takes a deep breath and stops. You can sense a change in demeanor, he stares straight ahead, his voice low, “You’re going to regret that.”

You don’t even have time to respond before he’s pulling you along again. His words send a tingling sensation straight to your core.

The two of you finally make it through the grass, the trail opens up to a small clearing and a large pond. You walk up to the edge of the pond, taking in the breathtaking view as Hyunjin holds you from behind.

“Look at the ducks over there. Aren’t they adorable?” you pointed out.

“Yeah... they’re cute,” he mumbles. While Hyunjin would generally be very interested in such a sight, his mind was elsewhere. He let you know what he was truly thinking about by slowly grinding into your ass. You tensed up for a second after feeling how hard he was before slowly relaxing into it. Hyunjin’s hand began to travel the front of your body, one hand grabbing your breast, the other pushing your hips closer to him. You relaxed completely against his body, letting him do whatever he wants. You tilt your head to the side to allow him to suck on your neck, knowing there would be little red marks for you to have to deal with later.

“Such a naughty girl... letting me touch you like this out here,” he whispers, his voice deep and sultry.

Too shy to answer, you pull away from his grasp, desperately grabbing his face to press your lips onto his. Your lips move against one another, his tongue slips into your mouth as he grabs your ass. You moan into his mouth, enjoying every second of his touch. You find yourself attempting to grind on his upper thigh, desperate to feel something down there.

Suddenly he freezes up, his hand goes up to your mouth to keep you silent. He leans close to your ear, “Be quiet, Princess.”

The two of you stay in that position for what felt like an hour, although it wasn't any longer than a minute. You wait until you hear the voices of the people walking by pass. The two of you had gotten so carried away, simply forgetting you were in public.

Hyunjin wastes little time getting back to work, his hand slips under your dress, feeling your wet panties. “Does my little Princess get turned on by the thought of other people catching her being a slut?” he coos into your ear.

His words make you melt, you’re so turned on but too shy to respond.

“I need to hear your words, Princess. Does the idea of me fucking you out here where anyone can see turn you on?” His finger slides past your panties, entering your soaking wet pussy. A quiet ‘yes’ slips past your lips, but that's not enough for him.

He slides another finger into you, thrusting them in and out, “What was that baby girl? I can’t give you anything more unless I know being a slut like this turns you on.”

“Fuck, Hyunjin, yes I love it, please just fuck me, I’m begging you.”

“That’s what I needed to hear baby girl, take your panties off for me, please.”

You quickly slip off your panties as he undoes his pants, he pulls them down just enough to release his cock. You watched with eagerness as his hard cock springs up from the confines of his pants. He gives himself a few pumps before he pushes you up against a nearby tree. He looks around to make sure no one is nearby before he lifts your skirt up, teasing your entrance with his cock.

“I need you to be quiet, okay Princess?”

You nod in reply, both of your hands are up against the tree to help keep you steady. He places one hand over your mouth to help stifle any possible moans, his other hand around his cock as he guides it to your entrance. He pushes into you, you're thankful for the hand that covers your mouth as you let out the most sinful sound.

“Shhhh I know it's hard baby girl, you gotta be quiet.”

After giving you a second to adjust to him, he begins to move. His cock stretches you out in the best way possible. You manage to keep quiet, the only thing you can hear is the wet squelching sound as he thrusts in and out of your pussy.

Hyunjin whispers into your ear, “Listen to how wet you are, you really are a slut, letting me fuck you wherever I want.”

“Hyunjin... you're going to make me cum if you keep talking like that.”

Your voice is already unsteady, losing yourself in pleasure. Hyunjin reaches around you, drawing little circles on your clit as he continues to thrust in and out.

“Are you going to cum already? I had no idea how kinky my little Princess was...”

He continues on for a bit before picking up the pace, his hips snapping into yours at an all-new speed.

“I’m gonna cum...”

“Do it, I got you, Princess.” He places a kiss behind your ear, his warm breath tickling you, your mind starts to go blank.

You feel the heat in your core build up as your legs start to shake, you decide to not hold back anymore, letting your orgasm wash over you. You can feel your juices running down your leg, more and more coming out with each thrust. You can’t believe you're actually squirting, you’ve never been able to do it before. Your cum continues to pour out of you as you get lost in pleasure.

Hyunjin feels your wetness coat his cock, soaking his jeans. He’s dreamed of the moment of being able to make you squirt, and now it's finally happening. Your orgasm triggers his own, he grunts into your ear as he fills you with his cum. He gives you a couple more thrusts as he rides out the pleasure before slowly pulling out.

He holds you tightly against his body as you regain your balance after your intense orgasm. He pulls away only to watch the mixture of his and your cum drip out of you into the earth beneath you.

You turn to him, only to see the front of his jeans wet from your orgasm. You start apologizing, but he cuts you off by kissing your lips deeply.

“Don’t even try to apologize Y/N, that was the hottest shit I've ever seen,”

You blush before kissing him again, “I love you Hyunjin.”

“I love you too Princess, let's get cleaned up.”

The two of you help the other clean up, you grab the panties you discarded earlier to try to soak up the excess dampness on his pants before using them to wipe yourself dry. You tuck the dirty panties into your purse to deal with later, deciding to finish the walk home with nothing on underneath. Hyunjin takes his zip-up hoodie off and ties it around his waist, using it to cover most of the wet stain on his pants.

The two of you look at the lake one last time before finishing your walk home. He wraps his arm around you and places a kiss on your temple.

“So do you wanna come back here for a walk tomorrow? Maybe we can actually look for frogs.”

You giggle, “I have a feeling we will never be able to come back to this spot just to look for frogs.”

Hyunjin grabs your hand and begins to lead you back to the main path of the trail.

“Oh yeah, you were right Y/N, those ducks were actually pretty cute earlier.”

[doberbutts]

Hi jaz! I know u dont post docking/cropping disc horse on ur blog so if ur ok with it i was hoping u'd be ok answering this privately. Im really really not looking for discourse i was just very curious on what your particular stance on docking/cropping was. There are like obviously advantages and disadvantages for both that I've seen on your blog (from various opinions) but I've only irl met dob owners who are VERY against docking and cropping. Sometimes i see like u reblogged a post of a puppy with docked bandaged ears and i was like "huh! Interesting!" So way less of like a trying to start a discourse thing and more of like. Do you prefer docked or not docked? Do u support docking for any specific reason or not, like i know it used to be so they wouldn't get grabbed or something like that. Sorry if this sounds weird or super blunt im autistic and really terrible at wording things gently,, i've just seen both sides talked about and was wondering like what u thought as a professional dog trainer who's opinion I trust. Its more about personal curiosity than any discourse attempt but also also if u aren't comfortable discussing it at all then no pressure!! Like i dont wanna make u discuss something ur like "damn this is gonna be triggering to talk about" i never want to do that to u.

Thank u for taking the time to read :)

I'm actually fine posting this one publicly, only because I've stated it several times before on this very blog:

I do not give a fuck what other people do with their dogs as long as it is legal within their country and the owner is doing their best to be compassionate and fair to their animals. That can be interpreted whatever way anyone wants it to be.

In other words, someone who makes the decision to have their dog's ears cropped under the care of a vet or who purchases a dog with already cropped ears? Who gives a shit. Not me. Someone who takes a pair of scissors to their dog's ears at home? That person is an asshole and I hate them.

Very few doberman breeders in this country will allow a puppy to go home without cropping the ears or docking the tail. I am not sure if that puppy's breeder counts among them, as I have very little interest in purchasing a dog from her and thus don't know much about that part of her program. The pedigrees are simply not what I feel holds the future of the breed in terms of efforts for longevity combined with working ability, so I simply look elsewhere.

It is worth mentioning that the two fully natural dogs I have had, with one still living, come from countries in which the practice is either banned or so heavily restricted it may as well be banned. If someone is serious about wanting a fully natural doberman, most people will need to import.

I know of less than 10 breeders within this country who would allow the same thing, and of them I think I would only purchase from maybe 2 of them, and *both* of those people would only sell a fully natural dog to me because they know who I am. Someone unknown to them is still getting a cropped and docked dog.

For my own dogs, I avoid all potentially painful procedures that are not medically necessary. This does include cropping and docking, both of which are surgeries and all surgeries do have at least some pain associated with them. However I also don't spay or neuter my dogs for the same reason. When it becomes medically necessary, I will consider surgery. Until then, I will not. Thankfully, I was able to find someone who was willing to play ball with that, and that is why I have had a couple natural dogs. My dobermans prior to that were not, because I was not able to find someone, because they simply didn't exist in this country and I was a poor college kid unable to import.

[artbyjessicajewett]

Hi everyone! I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Jessica and I was a previous user of Tumblr before it was bought. I decided to come back.

Today I'm not so much a fandom person (my first account was a Supernatural and Destiel vibe) as I am living my "real" life as an artist, author, historian, and disability rights activist. I'll be 42 in February and I live on the border of Ohio and West Virginia - like, literally on the border. I can almost throw a rock and hit West Virginia from my apartment building. Living here after spending over twenty years in Georgia has been a fresh change. Georgia is not a great place for people with complex disabilities like mine. I get much better medical care and access to state services here in Ohio, which is why I came here. My ancestry is Appalachian anyway, so this does feel like home in a strange way.

My art is what I do the most. This is me doing a commission order a few years ago.

You're immediately wondering about my disability and why I do everything with the tools in my mouth. I was born with a condition called Arthrogryposis and that just simply means my joints have very little range of motion. Much of my body is stiff. So I taught myself to play with my toys, markers, etc., with my mouth rather than my hands before I could even read or go to school. It was natural for me. I live a happy life and I'm not upset about being born with this disability. You don't have to feel sorry for me because I don't feel sorry for me.

At this stage in my life, I'm working on art commission number 91 with about 50 more on my wait list. My work specializes in black and white pencil portraits, mostly of different historical periods. Most of the art people order from me has to do with my ability to interpret their previous lifetimes (yes, reincarnation) as well as introducing them to their spirit guides. I do regular art with no spiritual complex as well, like family portraits, friends portraits, pet portraits, architecture, fan art, original characters, some fantasy, witchcraft, folk magic, paranormal, historical events, etc. I'm heavily trained in realistic very detailed portraits, so if you're looking for anime or cute illustrations, I'm probably not your woman.

This is the last commission I finished.

This is an interpretation of that customer's spirit guide as they appeared before they died. This is "my style" of art, as they say. I like to do color art too but I finish black and white orders much faster.

Besides art, I'm a lifelong student of 19th century history in America focusing on women's roles, families, social issues, disability history, and LGBTQIA+ history. I was in school to specifically become an antebellum and Civil War historian before chronic illnesses forced me to drop out. Higher education 20+ years ago was a casserole of nonsense when it came to helping disabled students succeed. Don't get me started.

I'm also a lifelong paranormal researcher focusing mostly on hauntings tied to antebellum and Civil War America including old folklore. My mother and grandmother were Missouri folk magic practitioners. I was raised in an understanding of the unseen world. I also collect reincarnation cases from the Civil War period sparked by my own case from that time. I'll talk about that elsewhere if you want.

Follow me here if you like. I'm just getting started. I have to relearn how to use this app.

-Jessica

Shop: etsy.com/shop/ArtByJessicaJewett

If you're not interested in art, I also accept tips if you enjoy my content. I'm at $ArtByJessicaJewett on CashApp, at Jessica-Jones-1002 on Venmo, and PayPal.me/ArtByJessicaJewett on PayPal.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ellis Twilight Both Ends Bonus Story 🗡

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. This is a SUMMARY/Semi-Translation of the bonus story. I am roughly translating this with out much research other than specific lines from certain scenes. Why? Because it's a huge task to translate a main route chapter line by line. So, this is what we're working with, and I appreciate your understanding ♥︎ Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. The summaries will be uploaded in groups.

I thought my love would make my loved ones unhappy. So I tried to only think about the other person.…..I think about my brother smiling happily that day. But I also suspect that I may have twisted my own memory. - I think he was actually very frightened. Like the lives I took for Crown. Such thoughts blur my brother’s smile that day. The truth is, I can’t even remember the look on my brother’s face at that moment anymore.

Ellis is waiting for Kate outside of a store. It’s been about 10 minutes since she’s entered and he’s getting antsy with worry about being approached by strange people. As he debates if he should go look for her or not he sees her through the shop window and is put at ease, but she was chatting with a man amicably inside which Ellis notes that she’s smiling at the man as he opens the door for her. He wonders about who the guy is and then Kate runs up to him apologizing about keeping him waiting. They talk about the man she was speaking with and he apparently helped in the past as a postal worker by drawing a map for her. Ellis called the guy a “nice person”, but was analyzing the guy in his head; he didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives, and his smile seemed genuine, plus he held the door for her. At this point, Ellis seems to compare himself to that man with himself because that guy can offer to help someone in a very natural versus Ellis who can not do that since he wants to kill someone even more if he likes them more.

He recalls his Dad telling him the day his brother died that, “Killing people and laughing about it is something demons do….Repent and atone and you may still be forgive.”

(Forgive me? Who?)

(I just wanted him to stay happy.)

(Is the way I show my love unforgivable?)

Kate is the only one he’s really confided to about his past and more and more he’s getting selfish with wanting her to love him. Because only she has forgiven him. He offers to carry the bags for him, but she refuses and it shocks him, so he let’s her carry them. He’s sad that he can’t hold hands with her, so he wraps his arms around her shoulders instead and they head back to the castle.

(I wonder if you’d be offended if I told you that I was a little anxious?)

There is a flashback to when he rescued her and she confesses that she accepts Ellis for wanting to keep the happiness of his loved ones within his grasp.

Flashing forward to the present. Jude & Ellis who’ve just finished a mission, he tells Jude that he’s sure it’s normal to feel pain when you kill someone, and Jude is like: Oh?? He wipes off the blood-soaked knife before he sheaths it; staring at the puddle of blood that spreads like splattered jam, Ellis says: “But, I’m not bothered to do this kind of work.”

(Kate is kind enough to grieve.)

The guy at the grocery store, I wonder if she’d be happier if he were her lover instead.

(But I could never let that guy take Kate away from me.)

(I don’t think I could tolerate it.)

Jude: Huh, what? Ya wanna be “normal”?

Ellis: ….no.

I don’t want to be someone else. Kate said she liked me because I’m me. It’s just -

(What can I do to make Kate smile?)

(I keep thinking about it.)

That night at the castle Kate greets Ellis when he gets back home, who was reading in his room. Kate had recently been taking an interest in Ellis’ and Jude’s work and so she decided to study up on business material. It was a serious task, but Ellis thinks it’s wonderful. Ellis didn’t let her go on the mission tonight because of the level of difficulty and because it was going to be so bloody that he wanted to protect her from it. So, she waited up for him so they could have a drink together.

She said that she’ll get the drinks ready in a set of new mugs that have matching designs on them. Ellis asked if the mugs were from her secret shopping trip before lunch earlier that day, and she confesses it was. As she offers herbal teak, hot milk or alcohol to him, he approaches her from behind and hugs her from behind and says that he prefers Kate over those options. Rubbing her cheek against his arm she says okay, feeling his hands slowly crawl up body.

(Kate’s so soft.)

It’s so different from his own, so when he touches it he gets worried.

(It’s too easy to break.)

Ellis pulls down the top of her negligee and slowly squeezes her breasts which makes her moan, and he asks if she likes it when he does this standing behind her. She says that she does because it feels like she is being completely surrounded by him and it makes her happy.

(It’s no good….Kate.)

(You’re too cute.) Ellis kisses and touches her in many of her favorite places, and even though he wants to make Kate feel good, he is painfully aroused….

Ellis: Then, I’ll do you from behind today.

Kate: Ah……

Kate squeezes his fingers inside her and Ellis pushes Kate onto the bed.

(Oh…..)

(My head is a mess.) ……Which one love???

I want to feel good. I want to feel good with Kate. He looks at her tear-stained eyes.

(It looks like Kate wants to feel good with me too….)

(Is it my imagination or….I don’t know.)

For you, for me, it’s all a jumbled mess..

Kate: Ahhhh!

Ellis: ……Ah…..Ah…..

Ellis hugs Kate’s sleeping body in the middle of the night and thinks she sounds cute. Sometimes, he thinks that they’ve reached their happiest moment as he loves her with his bloodstained hands, for another day. He dreams of the day when his dirtied with her blood.

(…..I want to stay like this forever.)

(With you in my arms.)

(I want to stare at your happy sleeping face.)

The end of this happiness, I don’t want it to come either. The moment you’re killed by me Kate is also the moment -

(Oh.)

Kate slowly lifts her eyelids and look at him drowsily and she laughs at Ellis. He asks why she’s laughing at him and she says it’s because she woke up, and Ellis was right next to her and she thought she was happy.

-No matter how much I dread tomorrow. Even though I’m not sure if you’ll really be smiling on that day that will come someday.

(I can’t help but love this person.)

Ellis: Kate….

Kate: What….?

Ellis: I love you.

Kate: ….Hm.

Ellis: I love you, I love you…..I love you.

Kate: Hmm….hehe….what’s up…?

I bury my face into Kate and she holds me to her chest. It smelled like sweetly simmered jam and it made my heart ache.

Kate: ……Ellis, are you crying?

“No,” I almost reflexively said that, but now I don’t have to hide these feelings anymore.

Ellis: …..Yea, because I’m happy.

Ellis: I’m glad because you’re smiling.

Kate: I see…

Kate reached out and patted Ellis’ head.

Kate: I love you too, Ellis.

(I’m willing to be killed right now.) I bet that if I told you that tomorrow morning that I really thought that, you’d laugh again.

I’m sure there will be more of these supremely happy moments waiting for me.

Fin.

[Master List]

[fermiomoriblog]

The pitfalls of every Sunny ship

Diving straight into the hot coals with the first post. But it has been on my mind lately.

The setup in Omori is naturally quite mentally (and in some cases physically) taxing on every main cast character, and a shipper can very easily be overenthusiastic about getting a "happy ending" for their preferred pair, glossing over inconvenient problems and dynamics. I think that it really is rather contrary to the game's themes that this occurs, but it is also understandable that not everybody does a full psychoanalysis of every plot point in their story. I'll list some "common" problems I've personally encountered with people making content about sunburn, suntan and sunflower. I'm more familiar with the dynamics common on ao3 than elsewhere, so if you have any other observations or things to add, please feel free to do so.

# OMORI SPOILERS BELOW #

Sunburn

The "canon" ship. The fact that the ship is explicitly mentioned in game means that the ship is viewed as the "default", and it can lead to some lazy dynamics or lack of justification. You have to remember that no matter what headspace says (and headspace says a lot of things that aren't true), the first thing Sunny and Aubrey did after four years is beat the shit out of each other. Sunny knows nothing about the Hooligans, even though we do, and Aubrey thinks Sunny abandoned her (which is a feeling unlikely to abate after the truth). There needs to be basis for the ship as well - they aren't going to just pick up where they left off (presuming they had anything to leave off in the first place) right away. Which leads us to the first common problem:

Basing the relationship entirely on the past

This is the default reaction and requires the least writing creativity, so it is not surprising that it is common. Simply porting the HS dynamic or the swing scene to the future and copy-pasting is fun and cute and all, but it ignores the fact that both Sunny and Aubrey have changed massively. There's a lot of guilt that is going around, both with Sunny for obvious reasons and Aubrey for pushing Basil in the lake, and Aubrey has a bunch of new, closer friends whom depending on your interpretation are either theatre kids or delinquents. This is not really just going to get talked away on the swing set - they involve third parties.

I would venture to argue that this is actually a very problematic pitfall, despite it being generally not a very serious transgression in real life. Omori, as a game, is about moving on from the past. If you write a fic where the characters forget about bad things in the past but hang on like hell to the good things... that's Headspace. You've just put Sunny in a new Headspace.

Getting Basil out of the way

Even among sunburn/suntan shippers, it is pretty generally accepted that Basil was somewhat attached to Sunny even before the accident. So if you don't want to do sunflower, how do you deal with that?

You can write angst, where Aubrey and Basil end up fighting over Sunny. Weirdly, I've never seen this actually happen (probably because it's too heartbreaking). You can have Basil go to therapy, and get rid of an unhealthy attachment. You can also go the seriously angsty route of Basil hating Sunny for abandonment, Sunny hating Basil for his role in the incident, or a less intense version which just puts a barrier between the two. You can also have Sunny reject Basil. Or you can argue that the attachment was platonic, which is entirely fair.

What you cannot do is have Basil be romantically interested in Sunny, but "get out of the way" for Aubrey "so that Sunny can be happy". Or, well, you can do that, but you can't frame it as anything but serious angst from Basil's POV.

Unfortunately, many, many "pure fluff" Sunburn fics do this, because "pure fluff" fics don't want to untangle the whole thing as most methods involve some degree of emotional turnmoil. This is no ordinary infautation - Basil has waited for Sunny for four years. Nursing unrequited love like that is really, really painful. It is certainly not something that someone with Basil's character and history can do with a smile on their face. If you need any further convincing, I point you to Note to Self: Don't Be Gay in Faraway Town by witheredahlia.

A version of this which I think is a lesser sin (because it is at least framed with some nuance), but a sin regardless, is Aubrey getting annoyed at Basil for "stealing" Sunny's attention from her. This gets dangerously close to the reddit comments you see about "the friend group will be better off if Basil never joined".

Suntan

Despite sunburn being the "canon" and sunflower being the natural alternative, I actually think that this is the default. After all, Kel was the one to bring Sunny out, generally saving his life, and is his first friend, etc. Kel is also a clean slate character, with nothing anyone can particularly hold against them, and as a result suntan is the "healthiest", "least questionable" ship. This commits the customary mistake of believing Kel's parents when they say "eh, it's Kel, he'll be fine".

"Kel's fine"

No, he's not. He's spent the better part of four years trying to forget the happiest times of his childhood, and has been going around doing nothing but fixing and saving other people, putting others' needs far above his own, for the entirety of pre-canon and foreseeably for a good part of post canon as well. Suntan, especially with Sunny still in a vulnerable state post-canon, can very easily be written into Kel being Sunny's unpaid, untrained therapist, and his mood/health being Kel's only/majority source of validation. Kel's self-worth independent of his friends needs addressing and development, and without a lot of development, Sunny alone is not really equipped to provide that.

In all fairness, while I would be somewhat confident in saying that the majority of canon-compliant sunburn fics run into the problems above, suntan fics do usually handle it better. That might just be because there aren't that many suntan fics though.

Sunflower

It goes without saying that sunflower has the highest potential to be unhealthy. But precisely because of that fact, people writing sunflower are usually very careful to address it. Either the fic is written as a work exploring codependency/attachment/trauma/other general unhealthiness (which you can make your own judgement on whether it's a legitimate art form or problematic), or there is at minimum an attempt at pacing, therapy and general juggling of the various mental issues the game leaves Sunny and Basil with (for a shining example, see These Days Without You by Smitty1899, my go to answer for when anyone says "but sunflower toxic!!1!").

The issues that can make sunflower unhealthy and problematic are generally pretty obvious - shared crime, codependency and attachment, commitment and abandonment issues, and the whole "getting together before their friends forgive them" thing (which can still be done well, but from the POV of especially Hero can be kind of eh, and unlikely to be conducive to a healthy relationship given that it kind of depends on their friends' pending "approval".) As a result, there aren't a lot of works that don't address them in one manner or another. However, I do think there is one major pitfall that some fics fall into in the other direction:

Having everything in the relationship be dependent on someone else's approval.

In an attempt to make sunflower as healthy as possible, some authors make it so that Sunny and Basil effectively never make decisions on their own. There's always a third party present to psychoanalyse them, tell them what's fine and what's not, etc. and every step they make in their relationship is with the express blessing, support and help of the rest of their friends. The problem is, that's not healthy either.

I feel that the value of sunflower is greatest in the context of the themes of the game of moving on and forgiveness. Making it so that Sunny and Basil hang on to their guilt forever and robbing them of any "right" to decide for themselves what makes them happy is very much contrary to that - they're on crutches for the rest of their lives, and the point of the good ending is the hope that they won't need to be. It also is just not a good thing for any third party to intervene so extensively in a relationship.

Conclusion

Omori is emotionally deep, with many, many themes to explore. Ships in Omori have unique meanings and themes, which in a canon compliant context is quite hard to simply wipe away. Rushing into a ship with insufficient pacing and development, which works in "cute" fandoms, generally leaves lots of outstanding holes in Omori.

This post doesn't necessarily mean that I think less of any particular ship mentioned - to reiterate, every ship has unique meanings and themes which is interesting to explore and form a part of the message of the game. It is however true that some pitfalls in some ships are easier to fall in, and overlooked, than others, and the obvious problems get a lot more bashing than the non-obvious ones. (Yes, sunflower bias. Sue me.)

And of course, in a plotless or AU context, cute art is cute art.

[hannahbarberra162]

hOrnithology for Beginners, Part 6

on Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Note: there's a loose end I forgot to write into this chapter so I'm gonna do an epilogue.

I mentioned this elsewhere, but my work picks up a lot in the fall / winter. I'm still writing, I just have less free time. I liked writing this story a lot, I thought it was fun. Just a lil silly for some laffs.

Marco POV

“Marco, what the fuck.” Thatch was genuinely upset, which was a rare occurrence. Marco grimaced. 

“I know, I know.” He put his thumbs on his temples, rubbing his forehead with his index fingers. He knew he was playing a dangerous game by not telling you that he was the Phoenix, but he didn’t think it would end like this. 

“No, Marco, really. What the actual fuck?” Thatch was gesticulating wildly with everything he said and getting louder with every word. Marco needed to diffuse this situation before they got kicked out of the restaurant and caused even more trouble for Etta. She’d excused herself quickly after the scene unfolded, picking up your section to work them both. She was trying to hold herself together, but he’d seen some tears on her face. You’d all fucked up, but he’d fucked up the most and had to fix it somehow. 

“Let’s go yoi, I caused enough trouble here.” Marco threw money enough to cover the bill down on the table and stood up, walking quickly out the restaurant. Thatch rose immediately, following Marco closely, continuing to berate him. 

“That’s just evil, Marco, how could you?  You knew that poor girl didn’t know who you were and you lied to her? Both ways? And you were going to her house tonight? That’s messed up, man. That’s low.” Normally Marco would have stopped Thatch’s rant, but he knew he deserved it. He didn’t know how to make amends, but he’d find you and try to get you to understand that he didn’t do it to be mean or spiteful. Things had spiraled and he hadn’t taken control of the situation to suit his own interests. He didn’t think you’d believe him, but he wanted to try. He had a good guess of where you’d go - he took off towards your waterfall.

Your POV

You quickly made your way to your house, grabbing only the essentials you’d need for a few nights out. You’d rather suffer in nature than sit in your house and brood. You couldn’t go back to that job and face the scene of your complete humiliation. Not only that, you really didn’t want to see Etta. Her betrayal had hurt worse than anything else. You expected pirates to be terrible, that wasn’t anything new. But to have your best friend double cross you made you feel like a bullied child again. 

You grabbed your supplies, some food, a change of clothes, strapped your blow dart gun to your thigh and hit the road. You knew no one was coming to find you, but you wanted to be gone in case someone saw you on your way. You didn’t want them to get their last laugh while you were still upset. A few days by yourself and you’d be back to the way you’d always been - alone and aloof, but this time bitchier than ever. You walked past a building with wanted posters plastered along the side wall. You’d never really looked before, you didn’t care about any specific pirates. But glancing along the wall of wanted criminals, you quickly saw Marco, his picture showing him half transformed with wings instead of arms. He had a really high bounty - in the billions - he seemed like a big deal. All that meant was that everyone else but you knew he was The Phoenix and no one bothered to let you in on that little secret. You ripped it off the wall in anger. Fuck him. 

Making your way to the waterfall, your mind kept returning to Marco’s face as you put everything together in the restaurant. He didn’t seem to have a “gotcha” look like you’d expected. He’d looked shocked, like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe he was a good actor, maybe he really felt that way. Ultimately it didn’t matter since he was the one who hadn’t told you he was a Zoan devil fruit user and let you think he was just some pirate and an unrelated phoenix. You set up your camp rapidly, going through the motions without thinking. You shoved your sleeping gear and food in the tent. You stepped into the pool, swimming towards the waterfall, going through the cascading water to the alcove behind the falls. It was large enough for a few people to relax, or you to wallow in your misery. 

You’d chosen to go behind the waterfall for a few reasons. One, Marco wouldn’t be able to follow you, if he wanted to come rub his victory in your face. You weren’t exactly sure about Devil Fruits and water but he probably couldn’t make it through the pool and definitely couldn’t make it behind the waterfall. Two, the loud droning sound of the waterfall was relaxing and drowned out any other sound. Like the sound of crying. You hadn’t cried in years, you always felt that your life was okay compared to a lot of others in the world. You felt guilty crying over something small like your articles being rejected from ornithology journals again when there were people being enslaved the world over, birds being hunted to extinction, and children starving on every island. But in the back of the waterfall, hidden from eyes and ears, you finally allowed yourself to cry. You cried over your lost friendship, your romance gone south, and your memories of the phoenix being tarnished instead of the highlight of your life. You cried for your loneliness, your broken heart, and for finally realizing you’d never fit in anywhere. You sobbed, letting your tears fall while the waterfall concealed you and your sorrow. 

You felt exhausted. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off and combined with your crying jag, you felt completely spent. You leaned back against the alcove, hugging your knees. You weren’t hungry or thirsty, you just sat there dazed for long enough that the sun started to make its descent. You thought about coming out from behind the waterfall but lacked the motivation to do so. It was so seldom that you allowed yourself to really dwell on your feelings that when you did it was all consuming. Even though the waterfall was loud, you could hear a little from behind. Loud sounds like shrill bird calls, monkeys howling, and one familiar voice. 

“Where are you yoi? I know you’re around here, I see your tent. Please, I just…I want to apologize.” Marco was looking for you, which made you suspicious. You didn’t say anything, he could rot for all you cared. 

“Please, I know what I did was wrong. More than wrong, it was cruel. I should have told you from the beginning. Please, let me make it right yoi.” You snorted, you couldn’t think of anything he could do to make it right. He just wanted to apologize to make himself feel better, not you. It was like when adults made kids say sorry, you knew it wasn’t really sincere.

“If you’re behind the waterfall, that’s really clever. I can’t get to you. But…I can outlast you yoi.” You looked towards the sounds as if you could see him. Outlast you? What was he planning to do? Lay siege? Confident in your ability to get him to fuck off, you stayed where you were. He’d get bored of picking on you and leave.

“I have to say, you have nice camping gear yoi. I could use a little rest. And I see you brought more pineapple for me. I’m going to enjoy it since you’re still hiding.” Hiding?! Marco was trying to use your anger against you and irritate you enough to come out so he could talk to you. Well, it wouldn’t work. You had good reason not to talk to him, even if your stomach was growling and you wanted your pineapple. “And you left your sketchbook here, I can finally see your drawings yoi!” You felt your blood boiling in your veins. He had the audacity to use your things and eat your food and look at your private drawings? After he set you up to look like an idiot? Well, you weren’t the only one who’d look like a fool.

“FINE!” you yelled angrily. You went back under the waterfall, heading towards Marco. He hadn’t been lying - he really was eating your pineapple and sitting on your camping chair, looking at your sketchbook. Such a dickhead, you thought to yourself. Coming all the way out of the pool, you stomped up to Marco, grabbing the sketchbook from his hands. You gave him a dirty look and crossed your arms over your chest, protecting your favorite possession. You walked back over a few feet away from Marco, putting space between you. You had nothing to say to Marco, so you just glared at him.

“I deserve everything you’re thinking and more yoi. You can let me have it,” Marco said remorsefully, hand on his heart. So you obliged him and did just that. You shot him with your blow gun. 

Marco POV

Marco was a seasoned pirate. He had fought thousands of opponents and was the first Commander for an Emperor of the seas. Marco was known for his lethal fighting style and ability to recover from attacks, which was reflected in his billion Beri bounty. And yet, you had managed to hit him with your blow gun. To your credit, for a civilian you were incredibly fast. And he hadn’t been expecting you to attack him and was caught off guard. The dart itself didn’t hurt him much, but it didn’t feel great either. Marco yanked the dart out of his left thigh, looking it over. Something appeared to be dripping off the tip that wasn’t his blood. He started experiencing mild itchiness around the wound site but ignored it.

“Ow,” Marco muttered. “I deserved that yoi.” You were smiling like you’d won the lottery.

“You did,” you replied, pleased with yourself. “You might want to go home now,” you continued. Marco wasn't worried, he healed the puncture wound instantly.

“I’ll be OK, the dart didn’t hurt that much -” Marco paused as he caught himself scratching his thigh. It was true that he could recover from almost anything, but not quite everything . Marco hoped his intuition was wrong. “Was there anything on the dart?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Of course there was. Darts wouldn’t be an effective poaching deterrent if they weren’t poisoned.” You smiled even wider.

“Ah. It wasn’t that Peel Rhino venom, was it?” Marco secretly sent a prayer to every god he had ever heard of, trying to keep his fingernails from digging into his skin. You huffed. 

“Even I’m not that cruel ,” you said, throwing his earlier words back in his face. You gave Marco an indecipherable look.  “You’re going to have a rough time, but no, it wasn’t an aphrodisiac. If you fuck with me again, next time it will be. You’re going to have round bulls eye rashes that are hot to the touch and are incredibly itchy. Lasts about 8 hours. Hope you have zinc oxide and ferric oxide.” Marco was thankful you’d shared that information with him, he was already feeling more spots starting to bother him. He wondered if shifting would help but he doubted it. Like Ace had discovered, some toxins couldn’t be helped by Devil Fruits. He’d probably be able to clear it faster than 8 hours, but it depended on the specific toxin. Marco sighed heavily. This conversation would be uncomfortable physically and emotionally. 

Your POV

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to be like this, I should have told you from the beginning. I wish I could go back and change things.” Marco was contrite, having dropped his act to irritate you. At least he had the decency to look remorseful for you, that was a nice touch. But he might just be more open to being nice now that you’d shot him. His hand kept drifting down towards his muscled thigh as the itching got worse. You’d accidentally pricked your finger once with the toxin and it had felt like ants were under your skin.

"Yeah, I don’t forgive you. Leave me alone” you interrupted. You didn’t give a shit what he felt, you wanted him gone and you thought the toxin would do the trick. Marco was powering through much longer that you expected him to. You were a little glad he’d stayed, getting your anger out felt good. He stood in front of you and you could almost watch the rash developing in front of your eyes. 

“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness -”

“You don’t.”

“And I’m not asking for it. Can I please just apologize to you yoi?” You wavered a little in your mind, even if nothing in your expression or body language changed. Some small part of you wanted to hear him admit what he’d done and hear how it had hurt you. Not that it would make you forgive him, but it was rewarding to finally have someone admit wrong-doing after a lifetime of weak non-apologies. 

“Say what you want, I can’t stop you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was the Phoenix. At the very beginning, I thought you knew yoi. When I realized you didn’t, I should have told you right away.” Marco scratched his thigh through his pants.

“Why didn’t you?” Thinking back to those times when you were with the Phoenix made you cringe. You’d swam naked in front of him, for quite a while. You had been feeling a little bad about the toxin but remembering that tidbit made you happy he was itchy again. 

“I don’t know how to explain it exactly, the Phoenix is a part of me but it is also its own separate entity. It really likes you yoi. It liked the way you acted towards it, and I did too. I…it made me feel good,” Marco finished lamely. “But that doesn’t mean it was right yoi. I’m sorry. I regret making you feel -”

“Ashamed? Humiliated? Mortified?” you helpfully supplied for him. 

“Yes. All of those yoi. I know you don’t want to see me anymore but I thought I could do one thing for you.” You narrowed your eyes as Marco scratched harder. What could he possibly offer you?

“You shouldn’t scratch it, that makes it worse. And I don’t want anything from you.” You did actually. You wanted him to hold you in his talons and fly in the sky. But he didn’t need to know that.

“You might yoi. I know you want to know more about the Phoenix. I’ll answer any questions you have and allow you to sketch whatever you want. You can publish the information as long as it doesn’t compromise my or my crew's safety.” You made no movements but inside you were freaking out. If you were able to find out information from Marco, maybe one of your articles would finally get published and you’d be able to join the Ornithological Society of the Grand Line. Joining the OSGL had been your dream for as long as you could remember. Marco transformed one of his legs into talons to scratch at the other as he waited for your answer. His control over his Zoan form was incredible, maybe you could…no. You didn’t want him to think you’d forgiven him. Before you could speak, Marco had sliced through his pants with his talons in an effort to scratch his leg. 

“I’m afraid I have to leave yoi. I’m going to try finding ointment that can help. Think about it, I don’t need an answer now. I’ll come back here tomorrow at noon. If you’re interested, we can talk yoi. If not, you never have to see me again. Take care.” With that, Marco transformed his arms into wings and flew off into the evening air. He was still scratching at his left thigh in phoenix form. Served him right. 

Even though you were furious with him, you still couldn’t look away from the sight of the heavenly bird. 

You had the whole night ahead to decide what to do. After Marco left, you took out the Phoenix feather he’d given you. It had some kind of bio-luminescent properties and glowed in the moonlight. You ran it along the skin of your arm, enjoying the soft sensation. It didn’t feel like a normal feather, it felt like having your fingers near a tea candle. You could almost feel the warmth of the candle, but not quite, it was just out of your grasp. It made you shiver no matter how many times you’d run it over your skin. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it, no matter how badly Marco had hurt you. It was too beautiful, too precious and you didn’t want to squander such an invaluable item.

Deep in thought, you pondered Marco’s offer. Your articles had been rejected many times from the OSGL, no matter how interesting you thought the subject matter was. If you wrote about the Phoenix, your article would be accepted for sure, given how little information was known about mythical birds in general. And you’d be able to get reliable information out of Marco rather than relying just on your observations or theories. 

On the other hand, if you accepted Marco’s offer, you’d tacitly be accepting his apology. Your ego still stung from the wounds he had inflicted. But…you doubted you’d ever get another chance like this. Marco had practically handed you a once in a lifetime opportunity, one that could catapult you into ornithological fame. It was a twist of fate that the same person who would be helping you achieve your dreams was the one who had crushed your desires. You stayed up late into the night, watching the stars, thinking of how to solve your dilemma. 

At noon the next day, you were waiting in the spot Marco had indicated, holding a notebook and pen at the ready. You weren’t sure this was the right call, but your curiosity would only be satisfied one way. Marco arrived promptly, again half transformed. He had no visible rashes, but looked tired. 

“You’ll answer all my questions?” you asked coolly.  You didn’t want him to think he was off the hook just yet but you were bursting with questions for him. Once you had decided you were going to take Marco up on his offer, you wanted to go all in. 

“To the best of my ability yoi.” Marco yawned. You gave him your meanest smile.

“Rough night?” 

“Unbelievable yoi. I haven’t been that itchy and uncomfortable since…I can’t remember. Do you distill that toxin yourself? You could have a career in poisoning yoi.” Your smile turned a touch more genuine. You did make it yourself and it was a taxing process. 

“I don’t have sympathy for you -”

“and neither did anyone else. My brothers were rooting for you to shoot me again today yoi.”

Arching an eyebrow, you continued “well, hopefully it doesn’t come to that. I do have a lot of questions for you. So tired or not, I hope you keep your end of the deal.” Marco smiled calmly.

“Have at it yoi.”

“What do the other colors you get from the phoenix’s cones and rods look like? And can you see them in human form? Or just bird form?” Marco appeared surprised.

“I’m not sure I follow yoi.” You rolled your eyes. He didn’t even know about his own biology? 

“Birds have five types of cones, which support tetra-chromatic color vision and a double cone which is thought to mediate achromatic motion perception. Humans only have three types of cones in their eyes. Ergo, you can see different color spectrums when you’re in bird form. What does that look like? Can you describe it?” Marco’s eyes widened slightly.

“You know, I never looked up why my vision is so much more vibrant as the Phoenix yoi. That makes a lot of sense. I’m not sure I can describe it exactly, it’s like more shades and depth to the colors we already see.” You jotted down a few notes.

“I hope the rest of your answers are better than that, otherwise this isn’t going to be worth it. OK, next question. When you’re half transformed, are the transformed bones hollow? Can you feel the difference in weight when you’re flying between your hollow bones and your regular bones?” 

Marco’s POV

Marco rubbed the back of his neck as you continued your interview. At times it felt more like an interrogation, but his Phoenix half was absolutely loving the experience. You stayed seated on your rock, writing Marco’s answers down at a furious pace. The Phoenix took all your interest as praise and was utterly charmed by you. If Marco didn’t control himself, the Phoenix would have broken out into birdsong for you. Your questions were precise and interesting, prompting him to think about things he hadn’t before. Marco found himself enjoying the discussion. He was used to answering the same questions over and over. Questions like, did he enjoy flying (yes, of course), how did he transform only some parts of his body (practice), can he understand normal birds (yes, if his head was transformed), did he lay eggs (no), things like that. No one had ever asked him if he molted (yes) and if so, if it was complete or partial (partial). He’d never given thought to the unnamed yearning he sometimes felt when he was on land for long stretches before you asked him if he ever felt compelled to migrate. Both he and the Phoenix were engaged and throwing themselves into the conversation, answering your questions fully. Of course Marco didn’t answer anything that could be used against him in combat, but your questions were so esoteric he couldn’t imagine the uses beyond pure scientific research. 

You also had Marco pose periodically in various stages of transformation for you to draw. You took your time sketching the exact anatomy of numerous body parts. The Phoenix was in heaven, your undivided attention to every detail of its body giving Marco the chills. Marco watched you sketch, completely absorbed in your work. Your sketches were perfect, capturing the essence of the Phoenix with just a few strokes of your pencils. He wished he could keep some but he knew better than to ask for one. After a few sketches, you’d resume asking him questions. This process went on for hours, but Marco never tired of it. If anything, he enjoyed your company more and more. 

“Finally, do you form monogamous pair bonds? And if so, for how long?” you asked without a hint of shyness. Marco was nonplussed at your bold question, especially given the situation between the two of you. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m going to answer that one yoi. If the World Government found out that I had a pair bond for any amount of time, that person would never be safe.” Marco didn’t want to answer you, he was sidestepping the question. He knew that he and the Phoenix preferred a single monogamous partner but that was difficult when he spent so much time at sea. The Phoenix didn't care about the tension between the two of you and would have happily accepted a pair bond between you at this very moment.

“All right. Well, thank you. If you can get mail, I’ll send you a copy of my article if it gets published.” Marco was hoping you’d ask for him to take you flying. That would be a surefire way to get further back in your good graces. Instead, you offered him your hand. “I’m still a little mad but thank you.” Marco swallowed his disappointment and took your smaller hand in his own, shaking it.

“I know it will get published, yoi. If you write like you draw, you’ll be a famous scientist soon.” You gave him a small smile. 

“Bye.” You started packing up your things. Marco knew this was it, his time with you was over. 

“Thank you for letting me talk with you. I…wish I had done things differently yoi.” 

“Me too,” you said quietly. “But it’s time for you to go. Bye Marco.” Marco took his cue, transformed and left. He turned his head and watched you marvel at the sight of him one last time. 

~~~

Seven Months Later…

Marco came to the top deck of the Moby, he’d heard that Doug had brought a letter for him. The old, cantankerous news coo hated everyone, including Marco. Approaching the bad tempered bird slowly, Marco saw Doug had a large envelope in his satchel with Marco’s name on it. He could only think of one person that might like this uncooperative coo and use him as a mail courier. Marco reached for the letter, got bit by Doug, and took the letter from his satchel. Doug gave Marco the bird equivalent of the finger and flew off. 

Opening the envelope, Marco slid out a heavy scientific journal with art of a Phoenix on the front cover. There was a short note taped to the journal, which Marco read with a smile. He quickly flipped through the lengthy article, scanning it with the intention to pore over it later. Still reading, he turned to go leave it in his room, nearly running into Ace.

“Watch it! What’s got you so focused?” Ace tried to read over Marco’s shoulder but Marco held the magazine high up in the air. With Marco being over a foot and a half taller than Ace, it was an effective strategy. 

“None of your business -” Marco was cut off as Thatch suddenly grabbed the journal from Marco's hand. Ace was shorter than Marco but Thatch wasn’t. Marco loved his siblings but sometimes he wished he didn’t live on the world’s fastest rumor mill.

Thatch was looking at the cover with his mouth hanging open. “That’s you Marco! Who did this drawing? It's incredible! What the - is this whole article about you? It’s like 35 pages long!” Thatch was flipping through the journal. Marco knew better than to reach for it back - he didn’t want it to get damaged in a scuffle.

“Yes, it’s about me. Give it back yoi. Now. Unless you want a wound that won’t heal quickly.” Marco eyes flashed as he spoke. He hadn’t intended to sound so menacing but the Phoenix wasn’t playing around. It had been moping for months, hoping to reunite the lovely little ornithologist who doted on it. Thatch handed over the journal quickly once he saw how serious Marco was.

“Wow, didn’t know it meant that much to you. Is this from that one bird island? With that bird girl?” 

“Yes, that’s her yoi. She published an article about the Phoenix. And it looks like she’s speaking at the Grand Line Ornithological Society’s annual conference.” Marco was proud of you, he hadn’t been joking when he said you’d be a famous scientist. Flipping to the information about the conference, Marco read through the details of the upcoming event. He suddenly felt a yearning to fly. 

Your POV

You hadn’t expected your article to be so well received that you’d be published and offered to speak at a conference in under a year. You’d sent a copy to Marco via Doug, like you said you would. You loved Doug and thought he was the sweetest news coo you’d ever met. No one seemed to agree with you but that was neither here nor there. Standing backstage at the conference center, you fiddled with your jacket anxiously. You weren’t comfortable with public speaking, you barely liked to talk to people in small groups. Part of you wished Marco was here to charm the scientists and answer everyone’s questions so you wouldn’t have to. But that was just a pipe dream, you knew you had to do this alone.

Writing the article and finalizing the drawings had you thinking a lot about Marco and the time you’d spent together. Even though you now knew he was the Phoenix, you still had a lot of love in your heart for the bird. And you could admit that you’d had fun with Marco when you’d been bird watching together. But none of that mattered, he was long gone and you’d never see him again. You took in a huge breath and held it in, releasing it slowly. Your neck was aching from all the accumulated stress, even though you were also a little excited. You were the next speaker to present and your notecards for your speech were damp from your sweaty palms. You could do this, you’d spent so long preparing.  You were the most nervous for the question and answer portion of the presentation, since that wasn’t something you could prepare in advance. 

You heard your name being called and you walked out onto the stage to the restrained applause of the crowd. All of a sudden, the crowd started clapping louder, with some members even standing to clap and cheer. You were confused - you hadn’t spoken yet. You saw flickering blue flames in your peripheral vision.

“Thought I would join you yoi.” You looked up to see Marco standing next to you, resplendent in his half transformed form. 

“I..I didn’t know you were coming,” you said while avoiding the microphone den den. Marco fully transformed into his human form, bringing the attention of the crowd off of himself. 

“Surprise yoi. Now, let’s hear your wonderful speech.” Marco was collected and peaceful, which helped you calm your own nerves. You began by introducing yourself and Marco, though he needed no introduction. The audience was completely silent during your talk, held in rapt attention as you spoke about Marco and his Zoan form. At the end, Marco gave a demonstration of his complete transformation to the delight of the crowd. Surprisingly, the audience members had few questions that were directly for Marco. Instead, they focused more on your research and theories about legendary birds. Thanking everyone for their time, you hurried off the stage with Marco following you. You were elated, this may have been the beginning of your professional career. You gave Marco a quick hug around his middle.

“Thank you Marco. I'm glad you came. A heads up would have been nice though.” 

“I can’t announce where I’ll be yoi. I’m a wanted man,�� Marco teased gently. You supposed that was true, though this conference didn't have any World Government officials. It was all scientists whose area of expertise was of no interest to the WG.

“Well, I appreciate it anyway.” You felt awkward, you didn’t know what to do now. You were thankful for his help but weren’t sure how you felt or what he wanted to do now. 

Marco leaned down to you and whispered into your ear, causing you to shiver. “I have one question for you, since you asked me so many. Would you like to go flying?” You felt like you’d found the One Piece. Flying had been your dream since you were a child, that was what had sparked your interest in birds. Maybe...you could relent and give Marco a little bit more of your time. You could take things as they came and enjoy the ride. After all, you were an ornithologist. It was your scientific duty as a researcher to spend time with this interesting, infuriating, attractive, funny, smart pirate. And you took your professional responsibilities seriously. Very seriously.