#can we help the anon messenger find the actual word for what they are trying to accuse Darren of doing

[antvnger]

((OOOOOOOHHH!! This is a very very good question, Anon! I barely touched on the whole Obadiah thing in the original post, so this was a really good area to explore. I went overboard again which seems to be my MO lol so see below for the whole thing.))

I normally don’t use this word at all, but Obadiah scared the fuck out of Scott Stark.

Ever since he met the man when he was young, his brain was screaming DANGER DANGER DANGER RUN AWAY RUN AWAY!

Scott could sense the predator vibes before he could understand what those vibes meant. He just knew Obadiah was scary.

And the fact he was around his family, especially his brother, all the time was really really bad.

In terms of Stark Industries royalty, Tony’s the heir and Scott’s the spare, so he was able to dodge a lot of Stark Industries bullets growing up. Grandpa Howard insisted he and his son, Charlie Stark who is good in this AU remember, begin grooming Tony from a young age, especially since Tony showed exceptional gifts so early in life.

Obadiah, being the power hungry monster he was, latched onto the elder Stark brother like a leech, and that was another thing that pushed the Stark boys apart. Especially after December 6.

Obadiah had successfully dug his claws into the heir, and he made a point to keep the spare at arm’s length.

Scott feared what Obadiah could be doing to Tony. He tried to ask his brother to check on him, but Tony shut him down so fast and so definitively that Scott knew something was wrong. Tony was afraid. Which made Scott afraid.

I have my own theories and headcanons on how deep Obadiah's abuse toward Tony went, but we won't touch that right now.

But Tony would not budge, and Scott wasn’t going to go anywhere near Obadiah to confront him.

So he went to Rhodey, begging and pleading to keep an eye on Tony and to try to keep Obadiah away from him. Rhodey, already suspecting something was up, promised the younger Stark he would do whatever he could to protect Tony. As if Rhodey already wasn’t, of course we all know he was.

Scott knew too, but he’s just scared. After all, Tony’s 21 when he took over Stark Industries, so Scott’s only 17.

Jump ahead 11+ years since this is a headcanon and I can play with ages and timelines and whatnot when Pepper gave Scott a call he never ever ever imagined to get. Tony’s been kidnapped.

And Scott flipped out.

Flashbacks and panic attacks and intense fear that he may have lost Tony before ever reconnecting, losing him like he lost his parents with nothing but memories and what-ifs to show for it.

And in his bones, Scott knew this wasn’t the complete work of outside forces.

His suspicions only deepened when Obadiah himself came to San Francisco to discuss the future of Stark Industries with him.

“The Spare finally called to glory,” Obadiah announced with a hint of disdain and mockery. “My deepest sympathies for your brother, Scott. Rest assured we are doing everything we can to find him.”

Those red flags Scott always associated with the man are waving frantically again. Good thing he had the sense to have Maggie and Cassie wait upstairs while Obadiah was there.

The man looked around the home with a pompous air. He never understood why the younger Stark didn’t take advantage of his name and inheritance instead of doing everything on his own merit. He could have so much more than what he had to work for. The struggle of every second born, he suspected, desperate to stay out of the first’s shadow.

“The Board of Directors is calling for the next in line to take his place in lieu of Tony’s absence.”

Scott gawked at him. “Absence? This isn’t like he’s on vacation, Stane. He’s been kidnapped in a warzone.”

Obadiah looked unfazed. “I’m just the messenger.”

“Like hell you are,” Scott actually growled. He’s a liar. Scott knew it. He just didn’t know to what extent yet.

Obadiah gave him a look that sent shivers down Scott’s spine. He couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he was in danger somehow. “You know you never learned to trust me like Tony learned to. You always look at me like I’m a stranger. I’ve known you since you were a teenager.”

“Being an acquaintance since I was a teenager doesn’t mean knowing who I am. If you did, you would know I have no interest in Stark Industries. It’s not the same company my dad did so much for. You turned it into something worse than what it was, and you’ve marred my dad’s name.”

“I’m not the one who’s been running the company for over a decade, Scott.”

“I still blame you, Stane.”

Obadiah’s countenance turned cold and challenging as he towered over Scott. “Then do something about it.”

There. There’s the look. The predator. The monster drunk on a power he stole.

Scott shivered, but his glare didn’t waver. He did not want Stark Industries. He never did. Besides, taking it would almost seem to solidify what Scott feared: Tony wouldn’t come back. He couldn’t let himself believe it.

But leaving Stane in charge with free reign again sounded like a nightmare. Scott tried a different tactic by taking a slow breath. He would stall. For as long as he possibly could. Even if that meant pulling some Stark weight to do it.

“I just learned my brother is missing and last seen in dangerous territory. I need time to process this and work out some things here. Give me time to think about this. I will do what I think is right for everyone, especially the company,” he added to hopefully appease Obadiah. “Just give me some time.”

For whatever reason, Obadiah agreed, and as soon as he was gone, Scott sent Pepper and Rhodey a coded text. Since they were so familiar with Tony, maybe they’ll know about the code Tony and Scott used growing up:  Look into Stane. He’s no friend to Tony.

Unfortunately, the code was never decrypted.

Obadiah definitely saw Scott as a threat, and an annoyance since he kept putting off his decision on Stark Industries. It was pointless.

If he could help it, Tony Stark wasn’t coming back, and then when Scott accepted his place in Stark Industries, the pressure would be "too much for him" and Obadiah would “find him” alone in his office after he succumbed to pressures he couldn’t cope with.

Then there would be no one left but Obadiah to lead Stark Stane Industries into the future.

But in this timeline, four months later, Scott pulled the VistaCorp heist and got arrested, effectively keeping him out of Stane’s grasp and, little did he know, saving his life.

Three months later, Tony would return and cause Obadiah more problems. And we all know how that went for him.

[ipwarn]

@gleekto replied: All this is true. AND as I just replied to kiki's post - Even if he hadn't disclosed that he was straight, an actor playing a gay character and fans assuming they are gay is actually not queerbaiting (which isn't our case, in any event) - But queerbaiting is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance

Also a very important point. Is there a word for it? For an actor, or anyone, pretending to be LGBT+? Or else pretending to be any kind of minority in order to gain attention. I feel like there should be a word for that. Would it come under the umbrella of appropriation? 

Because it’s certainly happened (just not here).  

[quirklessidiot]

Title: voicemail [one-shot] Pairing: gn!reader x kuroo tetsuro (age up characters) Genre: angst with a fluffy ending

Synopsis: You say good morning, when it's midnight Going out of my head, alone in this bed I wake up to your sunset and it's driving me mad I miss you so bad. [this request kuroo + angst + ldr]

Warnings: some bad language but other than that none Notes: heavily inspired by simple plan’s jet lag ngh, hope you enjoy it anon. i def had fun writing this. Kuroo was my first love in haikyuu HAHHSHSS T-T

masterlist  

“Hey this is kuroo tetsurou, i’m currently busy right now, just leave a message after the beep.”

“Hey it’s me…”  you paused,  “How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a while. Uh- Kenma visited me yesterday, he told me that you secured a new deal. I-I just wanted to congratulate you...and-well, i miss you. Call me when you’re not busy, alright? I-I love you.”

The apartment turns silent after you end the call, your head throbbing at the thought of your third unanswered voicemail. Were you being overbearing? Would he find you annoying? You shut your eyes tight, all this overthinking at this time of the day.

Maybe it would’ve been better to just pass the message on to Kenma.

You let out a loud groan as you dropped yourself on the bed.

Man, when people told you that long distance relationships would be hard, you laughed it off, saying that you and tetsu wouldn’t feel that way. You were both open and too much in love, trivial things like time zones and miles away wouldn’t break you two apart.

Yet right now, you weren’t so confident to say that out loud. It was easier at first, following a scheduled facetime at least twice a week at most and a short call when you both had time everyday. As months pass though, the little schedule you promised to keep up was dwindling.

When he called, you were busy or you were dead tired from work. When you called, he was either asleep too or busy scouting some people on volleyball leagues. The face times would just turn to very short conversations or a curt message.

Now this happened, its been a week since you haven’t heard from him and it was Kenma who had told you about his little victory at work.

What happened to weekly updates?

Were you just overthinking?

You furrowed your brows together as you turned to the abandoned cellular phone next to you, maybe this was nothing. Maybe he was just tired or maybe he was worried he’d disturb your sleeping time (he feels awfully bad when he does that), maybe he just told Kenma to tell you since he wasn’t good at figuring out the timezone things (after all, Kenma barely slept so he’d definitely be a good messenger)

Yeah, maybe that was the case.

Things returned to normal after that one week of no replies and it bothered you even more, why couldn’t he apologize? Did he not see the voicemails you sent? Did he not notice the nervousness in your tone when you sent that last message?

You feel your stomach clench as if you’re on a high up roller coaster about to go down.

God, why were you even overthinking? You sound like one of those girls that Kuroo and you would make fun of back then in high school.

A small ding resonates in the quiet apartment and you see a text from the man himself,

From: Tetsu Time: 09:00 pm Can’t facetime tonight :( Work has me by the neck.

To: Tetsu Time: 09:01 It’s fine :D Take care of yourself and just text me when you’re done. I love you.

You shut your phone off and ran your hands through your dry hair, moments later, you realize he doesn’t reply and the feeling of uneasiness does not waver.

It just worsens.

“Y/N, you alright there?” Kenma asks, it’s sunny today and you manage to drag Kenma out of his not-so little hideout. The man needed some sun, he was getting extra pale these days but these days, it seemed like it was actually you that needed this break.

You immediately snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the low voice of your friend, “Yeah,” You laugh, scratching your neck, “Just peachy.”

Kenma Kozume was many things, observant is one of them. It was easy to notice how distressed you looked yet he didn’t know exactly why. Was it work? Did you and Kuroo fought? Weird, his friend hadn’t said anything and he seemed pretty happy when he called to check up on him this morning at three am.

“Is something going on at work, Y/N?” 

“Yeah,” you try to mask your overthinking by something else, knowing Kenma he’d voice out your worries to Kuroo and right now that was the least thing you wanted, “Something at work.”

“Don’t overthink about it Y/N. I’m sure you’re doing a great job.”

‘Yeah.’ you thought bitterly, ‘Don’t overthink about it.���

The low sound of your laptop ringing resonates throughout the room as you do your own nails, you immediately shoot-up to see Kuroo’s name on the screen, you dive on the front of your laptop and click answer, his face immediately occupying the screen, “Kitten!” he exclaims.

Your worries are gone as soon as you hear that voice, yes, this was fine. He was alright. You were both alright.

“H-hey, baby.” You try to control your voice.

“You alright there?” his brows furrowed, “Am I disturbing your sleep again-”

“No!” You suddenly cry out, “N-No, it’s just...I haven’t seen you in so long, I guess.”

Kuroo’s gaze immediately softens, “Oh, Y/N...Baby, I’m so sorry…”

God, you wanted to touch him so bad. You want to lay next to him and wake up to his face like before, you wanted to be selfish right now and just cry and beg him to come home.

“No, It’s fine.” You suck it up, “It’s probably just the late night dramas I’ve been watching that’s got me missing you.”

His deep chuckle resonates in your quiet room and you start to feel alright until you hear someone call his name, “Oh shit.” He cursed, “I have to get back, Baby. Boss wants me, again.”

Your expression shifts to an uncharacteristic frown, “Right, bye. I-I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

The screen turns black once again and the bile on your throat begins to rise, the feeling of dread turning worse.

Who were you kidding, long distance relationships were shit.

You were feeling like shit.

You stare at the fish fillet in front of you, it's midday and your day off from work. If it were your usual day, you’d facetime your boyfriend while doing some paperwork but after that brief videocall. You became more withdrawn, your texts would become curt and you didn’t bother leaving messages on his voicemail anymore.

You didn’t have facetimes anymore too.

Yet you keep your phone next to you, hoping he’d still call and when he does, your can’t help it but your replies are starting to get dry. Sometimes forced even yet Kuroo doesn’t notice, he never does.

So when he finally calls again that time at lunch and is once again cut off by his workmates, you finally snap, “...Why are we still doing this?” your voice was rough and dry.

Kuroo is silent on the other line, the only thing that could be heard was his office mate calling him.

“Kitten, what do you mean? Are you okay?”

“Forget it.Just go.”

“Y/N?” His tone was serious now, all playfulness void, “I thought we were doing fine-”

“Thought.” You shakily cut him off, “You thought.”

“Y/N, you seriously -   look-   I don’t have time for this.”

That was the final straw, your tipping point. Those words were your Achilles heel.

“Then we should just break up, right?” 

The only thing that could be heard was the silence on his side and your fast heartbeat. Guess you got your answer and as much as you hated it, you could only handle so much.

“Hey this is Y/N, I’m out now and kinda busy so just leave a message after a beep, yeah?”

“It’s me.” Kuroo’s voice echoes through the walls, “Y/N baby, please pick up the phone. I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it that way. I was an ass. I should’ve kept our promise. Please call me when you get this”

A loud beep echoes throughout the room after his message is cut.

“It’s me again. I miss you and I’m sorry. I really am, I miss you so bad. Can we facetime? Same time as usual, I promise I won’t let work get in the way again. Please call me back when you receive this.”

A loud beep once again echoes through the quiet walls of your room.

“Y-Y/N.” Kuroo stammers,  “sweetheart, I-I asked Kenma to check on you. He brought a meal and well I know its a far fix from what I did but just eat well, yeah? He says you haven’t been looking well and I worry. I love you always, y-you know that right?”

Before the next message could play, you grab your phone and shut it off. A soft sigh escaping your lips. It had been two weeks since that breakup. You wouldn’t say you were doing well yet you wouldn’t say that the burden was lifted either.

You were just so confused at the moment, so withdrawn. The world seemingly void of color without your lover truly next to you anymore.

You slowly snuggle on his side of the bed, shutting your eyes. You might as well start moving your things when you wake up tomorrow, no sense in staying at your shared apartment.

You’re awoken by a familiar warmth caressing your hair. You flutter your eyes open, trying to adjust your vision to the room's dim light, the familiar figure of the man you missed and dearly loved sitting across you in a suit. His bags are thick as if he hadn’t slept in a while and his hair’s unkempt more than usual.

“I’m sorry.” the first thing he says.It's soft and warm like his touches, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Y-You..” It slowly dawns upon you that this isn’t a dream, that he’s right here, “You’re here.”

“Sorry it took so long, Y/N.” He apologies once again, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. You sit up and suddenly all the tears burst out as you throw yourself to him in a hug, “I was too busy getting my work done so I could be assigned in this division earlier I hadn’t-”

“You’re home.” You cry, cutting off his explanation, it didn’t matter anymore. He was home and he was going to stay, “You’re finally home.”

“Yeah.” He whispers, “I’m here. I’m home.”

[raw-lesbian-energy]

The Untold Tales of General Yunan

[Image description: Anonymous said

Hello,I’m not sure if you got this before but Tumblr said there was an error in sending it so I was just send it again if you don’t mind, Marcy screwed up on a mission and she feels bad but General Yunnan is here to cheer her up]

Okay so I feel this was meant to be a tickle fic but I just cannot for the life of me see Yunan doing that so I wrote some wholesome content instead. I hope this still works for you, Anon!

——

Summary: When Marcy breaks her perfect mission record and screws up, she ends up receiving comfort from unexpected company.

Fandom: Amphibia

Pairing: None (Marcanne implied)

Features: None

Word Count: 1,300

Warnings: None

—————————————————————

“Stupid, stupid…”

Marcy sat alone in the castle hallway, head hanging in defeat as she muttered to herself in frustration. She had just gotten back from a mission, one that King Andrias himself had requested, and she blew it.

“My perfect record, down the drain.” She brought her palm to her forehead, eyes shut as she tried to keep her feelings from showing externally. She was Marcy Wu; Chief Ranger of the Newtopian Knight Guard. She couldn’t be caught crying over something like this.

“Master Marcy, is that you?”

Marcy snapped up at the sudden voice, staring down the hall to see a bright pink newt in silver armour approaching. She quickly tried to fix herself up, getting to her feet and almost tripping over her own boots.

“G-General Yunan!” She exclaimed, managing to catch herself and saluting. Yunan gave her a smile, but waved off the salute and letting Marcy stand normally.

“No need for formalities.” She told her. “While I might be a fierce and ruthless warrior, I can still tell when someone is upset. Might I ask what’s troubling you?” Marcy’s face fell at Yunan’s words, bringing a hand up and rubbing the back of her neck.

“Oh…you saw that.” She muttered sheepishly. Yunan gained a look of concern, watching as the teen sat back down on the bench where she had been sulking moments before. She had left a spot open this time, and the armoured newt sat down quietly next to her.

“Okay, so…” Marcy sighed, trying to figure out where to begin, “…I got a mission from King Andrias. I-It was supposed to be a simple delivery, but while taking the package over on Joe Sparrow, I might’ve…dropped it.” She hid her face in her hands, though Yunan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“You dropped it?” She echoed, wanting to be sure. Marcy nodded, not even looking her way but lowering her hands.

“I couldn’t even find it after.” She said, resting her elbows on her thighs and letting her hands hang limp. “Even if I did, I’m sure whatever it was would’ve been smashed to pieces. He said it was fragile.” Yunan remained silent for a moment, studying the teenager sitting next to her with a puzzled expression. She felt something strangely nostalgic in her behaviour, a small smile donning the newt’s features before she returned to her usual enthusiastic demeanour.

“Oh, chin up, Master Marcy!” Yunan gave her a hearty hit on the back, causing the teen to almost topple forward. “You’ve got far more to be proud of than ashamed of!” Marcy took a sharp breath, coughing slightly as Yunan’s gesture of encouragement knocked the wind out of her.

“That’s easy for you to say.” She managed, sitting herself back up. “You’re General Yunan; scourge of the Sand Wars, defeater of Ragnar the Wretched and the youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of General in the great Newtopian Army! I mean, that’s incredible!” Yunan’s eyes sparkled for a moment, amazed that someone actually remembered her full title, but she recovered quickly.

“And you’re Master Marcy.” She told her. “Fixer of the Newtopian Bridge, defeater of the Barbari-Ant Queen, and the first hum-…hyoo-…” the word felt foreign on her tongue, which caught Marcy’s attention.

“Human.” She told her. Yunan nodded.

“Right; first human to achieve the rank of Chief Ranger in the Newtopian Knight Guard.” She finished. “If you ask me, that’s a rather honourable title to have.” Marcy took a moment to let the words sink in, and Yunan watched as a smile tugged at the corners of the teen’s lips.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She admitted, chuckling softly. “I’ll be honest, out of all the people in Newtopia, I never thought I’d be getting comfort from the ‘fierce and ruthless’ General Yunan.” Yunan couldn’t help but smile at her words, soon turning her gaze to each end of the hall to check if anyone else was there. Marcy took notice of the behaviour, her eyes suddenly lighting up with curiosity.

“You know,” Yunan spoke once she was sure they were alone, “my record isn’t so perfect, either.” Marcy gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as her eyes sparkled.

“No way!” She exclaimed, a little louder than Yunan would’ve liked. “What happened? Was it bad? Did someone die?” Yunan was startled by the sudden onslaught of questions, shaking her head.

“No no, no one died.” She replied, putting a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “But just between us, when I was still in training, I almost led my entire troop right into a Scorpileo’s nest.” Marcy’s eyes widened, and Yunan was almost scared that they were going to pop right out of her head.

“You did that?!” She cried. “But their nests are always clearly marked, it’s almost impossible to-…ohhh, I see why you’re telling me this now.” Yunan stifled a laugh at Marcy’s words, watching the teen’s expression go from bewildered to sheepish.

“You see, even those who have achieved greatness have made mistakes.” She said, grinning. Marcy smiled back, though she still looked embarrassed.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She replied at last. “I mean, back home I was a huge klutz. And I mean a huge klutz. Honestly, if it wasn’t for my friend Anne, I probably would’ve broken something by now.” Yunan’s grin lessened to a simple smile, a look of curiosity appearing in her eyes.

“Anne…that’s the other, erm…hue-man that arrived, right?” She asked. Marcy nodded, and the mention of Anne seemed to cause a change in her demeanour.

“Yep, that’s her.” She replied. “She’s been my best friend since…well, since forever. We’ve hardly been apart until we crashed in Amphibia. It was weird being on my own, and I never realized just how much I missed her until she came back.” Yunan listened intently to the teen’s words, noticing a small flush of pink on her cheeks as well.

“So, this Anne,” the newt said at last, “is she your lover?” Marcy’s face went completely red at the question, her eyes widening as she gained a panicked expression.

“What?! N-No!” She replied frantically. “I-I mean, Anne’s just a friend, that’s all! I highly doubt she’d ever see me in that way, anyways-” Marcy dropped her gaze and ran a hand through her hair, her face still red and embarrassment clear in her eyes. Yunan knew the expression well, unable to stop the smile that made its way onto her face.

“General Yunan!” A voice suddenly spoke, catching both Yunan and Marcy’s attention. The two looked up at a messenger newt standing at the end of the hall, quickly making his way over to them.

“King Andrias awaits your presence, General.” He said, stopping next to the bench. Yunan nodded once, glancing back at Marcy one last time before getting to her feet.

“Well then, can’t keep the king waiting!” She said, her usual bold voice returning. “But remember, Master Marcy; your great accomplishments here in Newtopia far outweigh the mistakes you’ve made. And if Anne can’t see that, then she’s most likely blind.” She added a wink after, to which Marcy squeaked and turned almost as pink as Yunan herself. Before she could even utter a response, Yunan was led away by the messenger newt, leaving the teen alone in the hallway once more.

‘Marcy Wu;’ the title started to replay in her mind, ‘fixer of the Newtopian Bridge, defeater of the Barbari-Ant Queen, and the first human to achieve rank of Chief Ranger in the Newtopian Knight Guard.’ A smile crept onto her face as she thought about the last part; not only was she the first human to be a Chief Ranger, she was the first human in the Newtopian Knight Guard ever.

Perhaps she could overlook one mistake after all.

[jaskiersvalley]

Oh my god im the anon with the cuckoowitcher ask. I've been running around all day trying to have a few quiet Moments to read! I really loved it thank you so much. I've been reading all your lovely Storys but I have to say I have a Soft Spot for cuckoo Jas. Thank you for responding and writing something so sweet. Still love your writing and it still helps a hell a lot! Lots of love! Hope to see much more

Some people get stuck in my head and you, cuckoo Jaskier Nonnie, are one of those people because you’re always so polite and sweet. So while I may not have more cuckoo Jaskier stories at the moment, I wonder whether you’d like something else. There’s a lot of warlord Geralt going around, with Jaskier offered up as a tribute. But has anybody ever considered warlord Jaskier before?

It had started off as a side gig, Jaskier would always be adamant about that. He had wanted to be a bard. Sing songs, witness adventures and maybe be adored by the masses, that was his grand plan for life. Unfortunately, being a travelling bard didn’t pay well and people weren’t as quick to laud him as Jaskier had hoped. However, according to Redanian Secret Services, he was in the unique position to help them gather intelligence. So, on the side as Jaskier collected materials for his greatest works yet, he also picked up intel on armies, prisoners, relationships between factions, species and kingdoms. It was quite eye opening.

The only problem with it all was that Jaskier wasn’t stupid. He could see where wars were brewing, what allegiances were being forged. And, really, Jaskier thought he could do so much better. The information he was returning back to Redania wasn’t being used in the best way possible. So Jaskier started tailoring the information to ‘help’ them along. He had also managed to make friends with a few of the other intelligence officers, namely Valdo and Priscilla. Between the three of them, they had quite a spread of information and spent many a drunken night gossiping over maps, discussing how they would solve the problems of the continent.

One thing led to another and suddenly Jaskier had more than two fellow spies at his beck and call. Somehow he’d ended up with the loyalty of the dwarves, Zoltan and his crew being quite helpful. Then Filavandrel and his elves entered a truce with Jaskier, followed by Triss Merigold and a handful of sorceresses. It was haphazard at best but word travelled. And suddenly Jaskier was being approached by the Redanian Secret Service not as a spy but as an equal. They wanted to trade information and Jaskier almost laughed. Except, after Redania came Nilfgaard, offering riches in exchange for information and good relations. Not like Jaskier had an army or lands or anything like that. Did he? The dwarves and elves had their own regions, Redania was trying to save face that their own officers had done a better job of keeping the peace. Well, there was no harm in keeping on good terms with Nilfgaard, they had been the thorn in the continent’s side for a while. Maybe by being friendly, Jaskier and co could actually help settle issues.

When Temeria took umbrage at Jaskier’s meddling, it was one hell of an awkward moment because Redania, Nilfgaard, elves, dwarves and even Aedirn joined forces to quiet the unrest. Which was a turning point of sorts. Suddenly, every kingdom great or small came knocking on Jaskier’s door. He’d returned to Lettenhove because home was home. The steady stream of well wishers and ambassadors was, frankly, embarrassing. Jaskier had a hard time keeping up with everything.

Then there was the matter of Kaedwen. They were trying to be fiercely independent and up in arms. It just wasn’t going to do and, for the first time in his life, Jaskier asked his newfound allies if anyone was willing to raise arms against the threat. Unsurprisingly, Nilfgaard was down for a battle or two but they were joined by the elves. Redania offered medical assistance while the dwarves and trolls helped with supplies. It was all rather anticlimactic, an army marching to Kaedwen, only to be greeted by a white flag.

Not all battles were so easy though, sometimes factions arose, Cintra was being a royal twit and the war fought with them and Skellige was brutal. In the end though, they were defeated, Queen Calanthe had to admit defeat. Despite this, they weren’t prepared to roll over and play nice. In an attempt to display might and dignity, they sent the most extravagant offerings to Lettenhove. It wasn’t riches, no silks, no finery or gold. Instead, they had captured the most difficult of offerings. A witcher.

He was trussed up in his own silver chains. Silver for monsters as witchers had been known to say. It was a warning from Cintra, they had caught the most feared of beasts, the monster designed to kill all monsters. They wouldn’t bow down to a warlord, no matter what the kingdoms thought and did. The witcher was tied to a horse and made to walk behind it though a shuffle was a more apt description.

Jaskier stood in the hall of Lettenhove and watched as the half starved wretch was shoved to his knees in front of him. A hungry witcher was a weak one, much easier to subdue and manage.

“A gift, from Cintra,” the messenger had declared and stepped away with a bow.

Approaching the witcher, Jaskier ignored how every eye seemed trained on him, hands on swords and prepared to leap to his protection. Rather than pay them any attention, Jaskier sank to his knees in front of the witcher.

“Hello,” he offered. There was no response, the witcher’s head was bowed, whole body tense, trying to exude disdain and an air of threat. Up close, Jaskier could see the fine tremors through muscles though. He stood up. “Please pass my thanks to Cintra, I accept your fealty and this offering. Though I would request no more live tributes. Or dead ones! Gold, silks, food and shared knowledge is more than enough. Court dismissed.”

Nobody moved for a moment. “Everyone out!”

Jaskier stood next to the witcher who hadn’t moved throughout the exchange. As soon as they were alone, he was crouching down, tugging at the silver chains.

“You poor thing, how could they treat you like that.” Gradually, the witcher was freed from his bonds and as soon as he could, he had Jaskier’s own dagger at Jaskier’s throat. “Harsh,” Jaskier observed, “but fair. Can we save the killing for after dinner though? I have always found having a full stomach helped with most decisions.”

He didn’t expect the witcher to waver, the dagger fall from his hands and for him to collapse on the ground in a dead faint. It seemed that springing on Jaskier had really been the last of his energy. What a waste.

Needless to say, there was no killing after dinner. Jaskier learned that the witcher was called Geralt, he’d been to Cintra to collect his child surprise but Queen Calanthe had different ideas. Trapped, Geralt had been helpless to do anything which was how he’d ended up becoming an offering to a warlord.

That had Jaskier laughing. He wasn’t a warlord. If anything, Jaskier was a failed bard and a very bad intelligence officer because he thought he could do better than those he worked for. It wasn’t his fault people were pledging their allegiances to him or that he had to ask if anyone was willing to help deal with a threat to the peace that he was bringing to the continent. No, Jaskier wasn’t a warlord because he helped bring new rules to kingdoms and enforced them. Oh shit. He was a warlord. His parents were going to be so pissed off when they found out.

“I think they already know,” Geralt had interrupted Jaskier’s internal panic. “You might have been the last person on the continent to find out.”

“But I didn’t mean to become one.”

“I didn’t mean to become a witcher. Destiny is a bitch.” Geralt had shrugged. “At least you get to choose who you will speak to from different kingdoms. Is Emhyr over the fact you won’t talk to him yet? That you picked some general of his army as a representative”

Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward grin. “I mean, I just figured the Emperor of Nilfgaard himself wouldn’t want to deal with me. So I picked someone who would and who I liked. Then I heard of what Emhyr’s like and just decided I liked my pick better.”

Over the course of a week, Geralt ate and rested, gaining back his strength and resilience. Jaskier admired from afar, astounded by how quickly his witcher seemed to bounce back. Not his witcher. Geralt didn’t belong to anyone. Even if Jaskier quite fancied the idea.

“You’re free to come and go. I’ve set out a new law that’s making its way round the lands. Witchers are to be lauded and appreciated for their hard work,” Jaskier said as he stood, facing Geralt by the stables. His witcher was ready to head out on the Path again, hopefully it was going to be a little easier for him from now on.

“Thank you.” The thing was, Geralt sounded so earnestly genuine. “I was wondering, could you keep something safe for me until I return?”

An unusual request but Jaskier would help if he could.

“You’ve been a wonderful guest, even if your arrival wasn’t the most wholesome one. I’ll keep anything safe for you.”

He didn’t anticipate Geralt leaning in to kiss him chastely. “Keep my heart safe. I’m leaving it in your good care.”

The bastard then had the gall to hop onto his horse and ride off without a backwards glance. Jaskier was going to tell him exactly what he thought of that tactic when he came back. Until then, he would treasure Geralt’s heart, even if he didn’t have time to officially give his own in return.

[mikaze-discord]

OG Heavens: Love letters

For these Heavens posts, I had reached out to a few people who just never ended up responding. With projects like these, please at least hear them out, you don't have to do it because I know its a huge project but at least tell them you won't be doing it instead of ghosting them. But apart from that little road block, this project was really fun!!

Please enjoy under the cut!!!!

EIICHI OTORI

From @milkmateartist:

I have always leaned towards megane characters and Eiichi is no exception. However, it's not often you see idols wearing glasses, and that is something I appreciate about Eiichi's design. His color palette also intrigues me since I love deep shades of blue. His royal blue jacket is very attractive, and the way he pops the collar also makes me go "kya!".  His voice is also very sexy as well and is pleasing to the ear uwu. I love how egoistic he is too. Being incredibly ambitious he has been able to reach amazing heights that surpass other idols. The one thing that seems to make him unique though is that he really gets zealous and overly passionate when it comes to the power of music, so much that it makes him physically tremble. You could get high off that shit literally. His entire being is centered around being an idol, and all the components of him go above and beyond the requirements. It's not just a job for him or something that simply makes an earning or brings satisfaction. It's pretty much everything to him. For that reason he has made it to the top. There is also the component where he's lonely and isolated emotionally that interests me. Despite being a beloved idol, he clearly didn't get the love he needed growing up. Even though he had Eiji I feel as though his nature was more to protect Eiji and shield him from whatever terrors would arise. I admire his ability to come through all of that and pay attention to the things he really cared about. Eiichi can be himself, his strange, sexy self, but also he acknowledges the lonesome darkness within too. I think that component makes him incredibly powerful.

Extra Details:

While appearing to be a bad guy in the anime (at least), Eiichi seemed to be that typical bad boy idol that would steal away Haruka from the main group. The time when he approached Haruka and took her by the chin is a perfect example. How dare this new guy just think he can have his way with our protagonist!  To be honest I liked that aspect about him a bit. While I can't remember my first impression of Eiichi aside from not knowing how to feel about that, he slowly grew on me. He had the appearance of just another selfish idol, demonstrated by swiping the mic away from the announcer at one of his concerts and immediately declaring their foreseen victory. So far that looked rather bland to me, and I was still cheering for STARISH. They really made him out to look like some bad guy who would not play fair and do whatever he could to take the throne (and the girl).  It's not surprising his glasses shine adds to his 'freaky antagonist' vibe that the show seemed to try to give off, but however for me I love the glasses beam, thus having the opposite effect.

And then there is the Next Door episode. Now here's where we got to see more of Eiichi aside from when the HEAVENS Dragon demolished the entire stadium. Aside from kya-ing over the EiichiOtoya content (especially where he goes behind otoya and covers his eyes), I got to see more of him here. It surprised me that someone so cocky and confident was actually the same depressed, lonely person that Otoya was. But it was also evident to me as well that he did care about the effect it had on Otoya as well after he sort-of-well mind broke him. I like how he is ambitious but also still caring, as compared to an antagonist that would stop at nothing to achieve their goal regardless of how much pain they cause.

I also enjoy Eiichi because I feel like I can roleplay him well. Usually for me, roleplay has to achieve some kind of goal since I tend to be business oriented. I think to some degree I'm able to practice being a eboy idol through Eiichi, as I do enjoy charming the fans. It also helps that I can naturally play characters with an inflated ego who enjoy charming people.

From @/egoisticCEO on twt:

July 2019. When Eiichi was first introduced to me via his voice, I hated him from the very beginning. His singing, his appearance, his personality – everything about him made me despise him. It’s funny looking back and seeing how quickly my attitude changed towards him, realising I’d been biased against him because of a friend. Finding more about him, hate turned to interest. It seemed like his life hadn’t been the best. Maybe that was why he acted in such a way? Interest turned to liking him more. Maybe I’d misunderstood him. I’d made the mistake of taking him at surface level.

December 2019. Like was slowly turning to love. More and more, I found myself looking at him instead of my current favourites. I found myself wanting him to actually be a part of Egoistic. Once I started devouring HEAVENS Radio and unveiling his true character, it was shocking how quickly I fell. He truly acted like a father to everyone in his band. Giving them what he never received. Everything was for them to thrive.

2020. With how much I was at home, it only made sense I grew more obsessed. I found Life with Thanks’ translation. “We’re irreplaceable to him,” he tells us, and that made me certain that his heart wasn’t as evil as some people liked to believe. He’s a caretaker, someone who wants everyone to feel like they matter. Even at his own expense. Instead of selfish, he’s selfless.

I related to him more than I have to any character – it was comforting. Seeing someone have no choice but to put on a brave face, even when his confidence was at an all time low. 2020 got a lot harder for me, but when I recovered, Eiichi was like a home to go back to. Time and time again, I’d have to break away, but I’d always be invited back in by that stupid smirk and overexaggerated ego and the warmest heart you could ever find. Every scene I watched with him would make me smile. I’d tease him to myself. I still do.

2021. That brings us to now. I can’t see my love for this one of a kind man dying any time soon. I don’t want it to, either. Just looking at him makes me happy! He’s the type of character with so many facets to his personality that you can keep digging and never reach the end. So, in conclusion, I hope I never stop finding new things out about this wonderful idiot. More than anything, he deserves all the love he gives to others, and I’d love to provide it tenfold.

KIRA SUMERAGI

From Anon: 

Many have their reasons to love their favorite characters. As for me, why Kira Sumeragi is my favorite character is because there are several things about him that I can relate myself to and there are a few qualities he has that I like about him. If many do not know about Kira that much, they’d look at who he is. He may look intimidating at first and may not talk much, when in actuality, Kira is a considerate, dependable, and mindful guy. Mainly, he is the type of guy that lets his actions do the explaining. He is a hard worker, as an idol, he looks after his bandmates, HEAVENS, like family. It’s like what Eiichi said in HEAVENS Radio about Kira, “he is HEAVENS’ pride!” Although he may not say much, Kira is very observant of his surroundings and never hesitates in his decisions. The members of HEAVENS understand and acknowledge Kira, knowing that he means well.

You can even tell in his solo music! Although there are only two solo songs for Kira, if you read the lyrics carefully, Kira’s thoughts and feelings are shown. Kira always knew that if he cannot explain his feelings through words, then he’ll let his songs and his actions do it for him for you to see.  Although the anime doesn’t show much of Kira, the only way to get to know him more is through HEAVENS Radio, also drama CDs like Paradise Lost, and other media like LINE Messenger Japan. There’s still much that I’d want to know about him, but as a start, these things are what makes Kira my favorite character for HEAVENS.

From Anon: 

Aside from my huge bias towards OnoD the first thing that drew my attention to Kira was his design. Dark haired anime boys with bright eyes have such a vibe and I loved how mysterious he was set up to be in season 2. But the thing that really hooked me a lot was the found family that Heavens became over the progression of the anime.

Particularly since people in the fandom have a bunch of funky headcanons about Kira being the mom friend in the group, which is incredibly wholesome. Kira’s very quiet and reserved but clearly holds a deep caring for his group members and does what he can when needed which is one of the reasons why he became so loveable for me.

NAGI MIKADO

From @/_PXRFECTIONIST on twt: 

If I managed to stan Nagi, so will you.

Greetings. I present to you, once more, a story of how I came to love a character that I wished I threw hands with.

So.

Nagi Mikado.

The possible only utapri character that Shinomiya oshis despise. Thanks to what happened in the anime.

Truth be told, I too was one of them. Until I came to love Both Shinomiya and Nagi. Reason?

Research.

Ya see, it is universally agreed upon that the way Nagi was pushing and pulling at Shinomiya's trauma and DID was… Not okay. So I said "yeah okay what an obnoxious kid i dont think ill ever like him lol" especially since I never come to really warm up to people younger than me.

Boy was I wrong.

My heart really sways easily when I go deep into characters, and why they act the way they are. And also because I chose to roleplay as him, but let's not. Speak of that.

(its actually the main reason i like him in the first place who am i fooling)

Nagi is… Indeed obnoxious, and really has bad manners that are covered up by his cute looks and fame, especially since he's one of the original HEAVENS members, but once you get to really know him.. It makes sense why he's being such a brat. And that is sort of endearing. And knowing how his group is like family to him too, it becomes harder and harder to completely dislike him.

….

He really is a boss man.

He knows what he wants, and how to get it. He knows how to get people to like him without handing over the tiniest sliver of his weaknesses. He acts in his own way that shapes his personality to suit him, yet still manages to be caring and helpful, even if it's hard to see tenderness and good will through his aggression.

Reading his solo lyrics, listening to the drama CDs, even thinking of headcanons due to lack of lore, it all slowly comes together like a lovely parfait to suddenly make you realize..

'Wow…'

'I really do like that rat.

[rpbetter]

Hey there, check out this pinned post first!

Thanks for visiting Roleplay Better, where I believe that you can fucking do better! That kind of language, however, is why it is important for you to read this post before proceeding.

This blog and its posts are meant for an adult RPing audience; be over legal, adult age in the USA, 18+. Do not interact by submitting, asking, reblogging, commenting, or liking unless you are over eighteen years of age. By interacting with RPB or me, Vespertine, you are assumed to be following this rule. If you are breaking this rule, you will be blocked.

I have that rule because this blog can/will/does address topics inappropriate for a younger audience. Those can include, but are not limited to:

not safe for work - violence, injury, sexual language, smut, substance use

“dark topics” and themes like violence, unhealthy relationships, mental illness, trauma, graphic injury, dubious consent, substance use, and so forth addressed realistically

foul, sexual, and otherwise “Adult” language

 unpopular opinions and approaches about writing, RP, fandoms

“negativity” since literally anything can be, and my whole point here isn’t about holding back; it is likely that, at some point, in some post or another, a shoe will fit you-you need to be mature enough to handle that without taking it as a personal attack on you

images and links that may contain things inappropriate for a younger audience

this blog is founded upon the idea that fiction has reflections in reality, but that fiction does not utterly equate to reality. You should write with realism, your characters should be people in their own right, and you should absolutely be addressing many popular topics responsibly, which is to say realistically. I do not support or otherwise condone purity culture, so while realism is a big deal here, fiction = reality arguments are a no

seriously, you have no idea how fucking salty I am! I try to be fair, reasonable, and mellow with everyone, but it can and does come out.

This blog tags for common, major triggers, but it is not for those easily triggered or particularly sensitive. By proceeding, you take responsibility for yourself...like a mature adult. I expect you to utilize blacklist, unfollow, and block. Tag format is simple, it is literally just the word in most cases, with “cw” and “tw” added to particularly common things. Example, a post containing a breakdown of forms of dubcon will be tagged #dubcon #dubious consent. If that was specifically of a sexual nature, since tumblr is unfriendly to using Not Safe For Work now, I will be using #notsafe for sexual topics. In the event that this needs to change, it will be posted about, the previous tag left intact, so that you may update your blacklist.

You are always welcome to send me an ask or private message requesting a particular trigger be tagged for you. I try to check blogs I see following, especially if I follow back, so that I can tag what you require. However, I’m a person, I’m an ND, ill, busy person though, I do make mistakes!

If you find yourself desirous of telling me to tag in a hateful way, don’t. You will not be responded to with an apology and kindness. Do not be rude, it’s uncalled for when informing someone of a problem or making a request.

I will run the blog largely on a queue, and will not be following many people back. This is not personal! I just like to try to provide content at many different times, have a life elsewhere, and I am so happy that you love your fandom, but it might not be something I’ve enough interest in to have on my dash.

Don’t tumblr message me. Use the inbox or submit.

Due to recent events, I am changing this rule. It’s hard for me to receive messages unexpectedly, and I hate to imply that I’ll be able to get to these quicker because it isn’t the truth. Quicker, better responses come from the inbox. However, there have been too many incidents lately in which people needed to speak privately and had to make that a request. If you’re having a problem and need to vent, request sensitive advice, etc.? It’s alright, go ahead and drop me a PM, y’all. I’ll get back to you as soon as I am able. Please, do not be angry with me if I respond to inbox things or my queue is running! You’re important to me, I just might not have the requisite social cognition and energy you deserve at that time.

Aggressive inbox messages will be responded to in kind. I don’t care if you are on anon or not, if you haven’t an ounce of polite communication skills, I won’t have them either. This is not a “we don’t publish anon hate” blog.

I highly encourage asks and submissions on any and all RP topics, and it’s perfectly alright to be salty as fuck in them, you can totally vent here, but don’t take out your frustration on me or be demanding of me. I am always happy to help with information, advice, or just a response to your venting-it’s important to know someone is listening. However, it may take me a few days to a week to get to you, be patient. 

If you are going to vent, leave out usernames. This isn’t a callout or burnbook blog. It’s fine to state characters and fandoms, but if this becomes a problem, it’ll have to change. I don’t want this becoming a salt blog for one or two fandoms I very likely can’t even stand. Practice the fine art of alluding to things, its good experience for your writing! Besides, RPC problems are RPC problems, I promise. It might feel like it’s just your fandom, but there is something relatable in all corners.

I will not overly police comments. Keep the slurs and shit out of it, though. If there is an issue going on pertaining to a serious instance of hate speech, or behavior I, personally, deem as too inappropriate and/or immature to be taking place on my post, I will step in. Otherwise, I expect everyone to be adults in the comments and reblogs too. If you want to argue with each other, that’s your business. If you want to argue with me, I’m not sorry in advance.

Addition to the above: this is not a blog in which it will be tolerated that commentators or those submitting with the URLS are targeted for callouts, shaming, or other instances of bullying. No, I cannot make those people stop bothering you by blocking them, but the least I can do is address that by shutting down their access to this blog and it’s posts by blocking on the URLs I have for them. And I will. Fuck that “we can’t be responsible for” shit. It’s my blog, it’s my content I’m putting out there, I’m not going to just ignore shit like what went down over on COAR, thanks. Not. Cool.

This is definitely not a place for:

people who think giving muses labels, including top/bottom “dynamics,” is a good substitute for character traits, personality, and development

those with no reading comprehension skills

folks dependent upon aesthetics and aesthetics-based purple prose as filler for actual writing

anti-original character/just wants to fuck a FC or canon character club, get the fuck out immediately

y’all who see writing as an obstacle to getting down to action, be that smut, drama, or fight scenes...it’s literally a writing hobby

politics, any manner of phobe or ism, violent/non-inclusive feminists, purity/rpc/fandom/content police of any manner, and exactly any manner of racism, sexism, or religious intolerance - I give not a shit if it’s popular to hate the straights, for example, I neither believe in nor tolerate reactionary classifying of any group as blanket-statement evil

people who are going to tack onto my posts shit like, “it’s okay, OP, you can say x character.” Trust me, if I were talking about one character, I fucking would name drop them, don’t bring me into your fandom drama, I doubt I know or want to know who that anime guy is who looks like 12 other anime guys to me.

About Vespertine

You can call me that, Vespertine. I’d rather you didn’t go with Vesper, but as it is unfortunately so likely to happen, I won’t feed you to the dogs over it either. RPB Mun is also acceptable.

I’m alright with either she/her or he/him, they/them is also fine. Apparently, that was big enough clue-in for the poor reading comp crowd, so while I feel it is not of importance, I’m nonbinary, yes.

Late 30′s, chronically ill but still working adult with neurodivergence. I’m both busy and Busy, and always sick. This limits my brain power and ability to be here. I have an active RP blog that I won’t be sharing to keep responsible distance. That is always going to be my priority, it is my primary hobby.

Please, don’t tumblr message me totally random things if we don’t have that kind of relationship! I’m too ill and busy, and it really fucks my nerves to have a bunch of messages/have to suddenly interact socially with people. Don’t do it. Use my inbox, use the submit, comment on posts. I cannot do random messages of “hey” and so forth.

I only do written RP, don’t expect me to understand much of anything from tabletop. I’ve RPed for the last 23 years consistently, on every platform from AOL chats to forums to messengers and here. I also don’t do RP in discord, so I’m sorry, but I can’t advise you much on anything with a word count, except to stop it for serious RP. Other than that, I promise you that I’ve seen the trends, the drama, the fandoms. I can give a lot of advice and perspective on a wide range of topics, situations, and characters! When I don’t have a clue at all, I’ll try to do enough research to give you an answer.

Do I come off as a horrible, strict asshole? I do! I’m not going to say that I am just a shy bean who is more scared of you than you are me. I’m not. I’m honestly feral, but have common decency, compassion, and sense. All of which are lacking in the general RPC. So, if you can inbox/common/otherwise interact with anyone else on this site, you can totally handle me!

Honesty and openness are policies.

And in the spirit of that, I repeat; you can fucking do better, tumblr RPC!

[thecardsimagine]

Update

Hey guys!

Some might have noticed that there have been some ups and downs lately on this blog, and I do want to apologize for not keeping up with my promise of writing your requests for the most part...

The truth is, I’ve been literally swamped (as in, 40+ asks) with negative kinds of requests. This is not to say that anyone of you did something wrong. You all do your best to send in requests, and you all deserve to get recognition for your comfort requests and wishes. But in the past, there would be some fluff, comfort, angst requests always varying and going hand in hand, while now I am mostly asked for comfort requests of all sorts. There are many topics ranging from death of family members/pets/the main character themselves to abuse via mobbing/family/ex-partners/etc. and many more, which I have to clarify, I am not uncomfortable with, but rather I am 1. overwhelmed with the amount (of requests and negativity) in comparison to other requests and 2. bored by them.

If you read my PSA about requesting, you might know what I mean, but basically, every comfort request is the same. I can’t just write that a character isn’t going to comfort you, even if I think a character would react this or that way, I can’t make them be mean in your request where you seek comfort specifically. Giving in and make sure everything is comforting is easily done for the first ask, but doing it over and over, it gets repetitive, unrealistic and makes me feel stuffed in a box with my creative freedom.

That is one of the problems I am facing at the moment. Sure, I do have some leftover ‘happy’ requests, but almost exclusively scenarios. Writing a scenario as I am, takes a lot of concentration and strength, and it takes it’s toll when I have to fret about words or grammar because I still get told that as a non-native speaker, I shouldn’t be writing. Even if I block and delete the anons, so you guys don’t have to face them, they are still there. Writing scenarios of 1k+ words every day because I can’t make them shorter has long begun wearing me down, so I barely have any option but to do the much shorter headcanons (around 800 words in comparison), but then I run into the dilemma of feeling bad for holding back on the scenarios too.

Since people have disregarded my rules and I’ve come to understand to just ignore them too, I know many will not care for this post either and see it as only complaining and whining. Still, I held it back for so long, that I am at a breaking point now, where I do not feel happy with the content I am creating for the blog anymore.

I thought posting a prompt list might help both of us, but in all this time, I only received 3 asks for it in total, most I did on my own, and one was sent in inspired, yet not related to the prompt list. As you can see, I have not managed to do the requested ones yet either except for one, feeling bummed out that there was little to no engagement.

Coming from all the frustration I felt because of the situation, I started to strongly seek out private projects more than this blog. However, it keeps holding me back because I will begin to feeling terrible about ignoring the requests and not giving you the content you want, even though it’s not the content I want to create. Request-Blogs come with a responsibility shared by both requester and writer, but I feel like I am fighting with this responsibility and ending up with nothing at all in the end.

I now feel more than ever that I want to do my own projects, or write about Susanne I'd rather sharing those things with you, rather than writing requests that make me feel repulsive when I just think about having to sit down and think about them.

But I can’t. Because my brain is nagging me to give you the content you actually want to see, the requests you came here for.

So I do neither, and I want to apologize for that.

My friends are telling me to take a break so I can work out this issue. I am sure they and you would want me to have the time to think and find the best solution to my problems, even if it hurts me to do so, or you will come to dislike me for not being able to keep up with your requests. Posting once a day was a dream come true, but it's now the root of my misery as I am running out of things I actually can make myself write. Even if it makes me feel worse to go on a hiatus, I am sure that the people around me can see this more clearly than I can, and they thought about what to suggest to me throughly. I sure hope you all can understand it's not your fault, but an accumulation of many factors that made me unhappy with everything.

I am trying to get better, but I hope you guys can understand my side of the problem and why I need to take a break before I might do something more drastic like abandon this blog because I can't deal with it anymore.

At last, before I will go on a hiatus, there are some cat pictures beneath the cut of the kitten we are cat-sitting at the moment to make your day. As always, you can reach me via messenger or asks if you have a question or want to talk to me!

[clocksfanfiction]

Hello hello! I hope that everything is going well with you! I just have a quick question: the regency era, ukus a/b/o snippets that you wrote... you wouldn't happen to have more of those aside from the two, right? Not to be dramatic or anything but I would literally sell my soul to you for a whole story or at the very least a few more snippets from that story. If not, I totally understand! I just want you to know that you're writing is beautiful

Hello hello indeed. 

Just for you anon, I do in fact have another I never finished. I’m giving fair warning here; it does not end in a satisfying way, it stops abruptly because I never finished it and I have no intentions of continuing to write it. I might one day come back to writing, but my time and energy these days just isn’t made for it. 

I never had a clear plot for this au, I just enjoy writing in that stupid flowery way and I love repressed idiot Arthur who has no idea how to handle his emotions and attraction to Alfred who is far too bold for his own good and doesn’t actually know how to handle his emotions any better. Eventually I imagine either Arthur confesses very badly to an annoyed and oblivious Alfred, or even worse he just proposes in the least romantic way possible. Give it a whole year of stolen eye contact and blushing and one or two scandalous brushes of fingers first. I never got to any of those points though.

I will, however, give you what I have written just because you asked so nicely and I hope you can enjoy it for what it is (with a grain of salt for the way it cuts off).

“My word!”

Alfred looked up from his book, eyes drawn towards the door where his father’s muffled voice had carried over the sound of the rain. It had been dreary all day and though Alfred had quite the mind that morning to get up and go and call on Miss Vogel, his mother had refused to let him leave out of fear from the rain. Alfred didn’t like the rain, but he wasn’t afraid of a little bit of it, but now glancing out into the growing storm he couldn’t help being quite glad his mother hadn’t allowed him to go.

The windows rattled with the force of the wind, prompting Alfred up out of his chair to shut the curtain in the hopes it would keep out some of the draft. However, glancing out of the window, he paused. Far below, through the blurry film of water upon the windowpane, Alfred caught sight of a shadowy figure approaching their doorstep.

Alfred frowned. They could have no visitor at this hour, and certainly not in such weather, but the sound of his father’s voice carrying up the stairs once again drew his attention back. Whoever it was was certainly unexpected, perhaps it was simply a messenger.

He shut the curtains, stopping briefly to retrieve his book before he wandered out onto the landing, curious to see if he could catch sight of the messenger before they left and pester his father for the contents of the message.

But as he crept down the stairs, he found no messenger standing in the doorway, but a very sodden looking Mr Arthur Kirkland trying to ward off the towels passed to him.

“Mr Jones this is very kind of you but I was only stopping-”

“Nonsense Mr Kirkland, it’s storming out there and I cannot have you heading further out into it. You will undoubtedly catch a chill and my wife will never forgive me for the loss of such a fine young man.”

“I do appreciate your concern but I am expected at my mother’s house-”

“Then I will send a message as soon as the rain clears ahead of you to apologise for holding you back. I would rather be reprimanded for making you late than be responsible for your illness, sir.”

Mr Kirkland once again opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat as Alfred took another step down and the wood creaked conspicuously beneath his foot. Both alphas turned in his direction, and Mr Kirkland’s expression flickered oddly, his mouth snapping shut against whatever protest he had previously been about to make.

“Sorry sir, should I have stayed upstairs?” Alfred turned slightly as if to retreat, though he had no interest in returning to his room when Mr Kirkland was stood dripping rainwater on their floor.

“Not at all Alfred,” His father smiled, though the expression was wry. “you would in fact be doing me much a service if you could convince Mr Kirkland not to run out into the rain again.”

Alfred turned his gaze to the alpha in question, though the moment their eyes met Mr Kirkland looked sharply away. Alfred was undeterred -- he’d grown used to the odd, stiff mannerisms of Mr Kirkland from the meetings they had so far enjoyed. At least, Alfred had enjoyed. He found Mr Kirkland more than a little intriguing.

Not to mention he could not help but find the way the rainwater dripped down his tensed jaw rather unbearably dashing.

“Well we cannot have that. You should allow us the pleasure of your company at dinner, Mr Kirkland, at least to excuse the puddle you are forming on our hallway floor.”

Mr Kirkland looked down self-consciously and had his cheeks and nose not already been flushed rosy with cold, Alfred was sure the alpha’s expression would have coloured with embarrassment.

“I, excuse me, I do apologise.”

Whatever easy eloquence with which he had been addressing Alfred’s father before seemed to have vanished; that caught and affected tone that so irritated and amused Alfred at once returning to his voice.

“There is nothing to apologise for, Mr Kirkland.” Mr Jones began again, grinning as a servant handed him another towel. “Though you should heed my son’s words and allow us the pleasure of your company.”

Mr Kirkland’s gaze lifted to Mr Jones, and for just a moment flickered to Alfred. He hesitated, once again some other comment on his lips that seemed to die as he turned from Alfred.

“It would be a pleasure to join you for dinner. But I do apologise for being such a terrible burden on your household.”

“Not at all, not at all Mr Kirkland.” Alfred watched as his father slung the towel around Mr Kirkland’s shoulders, pushing him gently towards the stairs which Alfred was quick to descend. “I’m sure my elder son’s clothes will be a fit for you, we must have you out of these sodden things at once or you will catch cold. Mary! Mary, show Mr Kirkland to our guest rooms…”

Alfred watched his father guide the servant about, looking up just in time to catch Mr Kirkland’s shy gaze upon him. Mr Kirkland was a strange alpha: though he exuded a kind of quiet confidence and pride among his peers, he became cold when made to socialise with any he didn’t already seem familiar with, and while he seemed to close in and shy away from all but a few of Alfred’s own looks, this was the third time Alfred had caught his gaze upon him. Another omega might well have been flattered, but the strange perceptive aura of Mr Kirkland’s handsome green eyes rather made Alfred feel that he was being picked apart for his flaws and not admired. Yet the man had asked him thrice to dance at the only two balls he had attended and blushed each time he’d had to take Alfred’s hand.

He was an odd enigma of an alpha, and Alfred took great pleasure in seeing the red upon his cheeks when he smiled at him as he passed up the stairs.

--

As it happened, Matthew’s clothes were the best fit in the house for Mr Kirkland. But Matthew was a slight taller than the other alpha, and broader too, which made the alpha appear slightly smaller than he really was. Alfred couldn’t help finding it just a little endearing, though he made sure to keep any sign of his thoughts out of his expression when Mr Kirkland joined them in the front room.

His hair was towel-dry, which only made the flyway strands sit lower than usual and his fringe fall into his eyes. He kept pushing it back in the most inconspicuous manner he could manage, though watching the hair fall into his eyes Alfred couldn’t quite ignore the desire to reach over and brush it aside for him. He didn’t of course, such an action was far too familiar and utterly improper -- but the thought of Mr Kirkland’s possible reaction did entertain Alfred.

Mr Kirkland was easily startled, oddly enough. Though Alfred had seen him unphased greeting an alpha who had clearly snuck up on him, he had once near jumped out of his skin when Alfred’s shoulder had accidentally brushed his in stepping too close.

He could only imagine that Mr Kirkland’s cheeks would colour delightfully if he were to brush his fringe from his eyes.

“You said you were heading to your father’s house, Mr Kirkland?”

Dinner had been served shortly after Mr Kirkland had dried and changed, which had been followed by an odd series of events wherein Matthew had made as subtle movement as he could to walk into the dining room immediately after Alfred. He couldn’t explain why, but they had ended up with an arrangement that left Mr Kirkland sitting opposite himself. If he were less rational he might have imagined that his family had engineered their seating for it.

“Yes sir. I prefer to ride from London, there isn’t much opportunity to get the horses out in the same way in town.”

[the-schwayest-batman-around]

Commissions Open

Hello everyone!

I hope everyone is doing well and this year has been more than a little crazy. However, I figure to help make the year a little easier and help out for some future plans, I’m going to be reopening commissions. 

There will be 5 slots. I don’t want to overwhelm myself and I don’t want to suddenly keep a lot of people waiting in case my job situation does change. This will first come/first serve. I will only be accepting stuff via ask or tumblr messenger. That means no anons. I need to actually communicate with anyone interested in commissions.

Details Under the Read More:

Headcanons (Examples): These will cost $10.00 as a base fee. With headcanons, I try to go in depth with the concept you wish to discuss. This won’t really feature an POV of the character in question. Their point of view can be explored but it generally is done in my perspective. The $10 will buy you the first 1,500 words completely free of charge with an extra dollar for every 100 words. The word count will be rounded up if it’s over 50.

Drabbles (Example): The cost will be $15.00 as a base fee. As opposed to the head canons, the POV will now be focused solely on the character you wish to focus on. Have you wanted to see the character in a school setting? Maybe fighting crime? Perhaps doing something mundane or magical? Maybe doing some complicated fighting? I will be happy to do it. Like before, the $15 will buy the first 1,500 words, with an extra dollar for everyone 100 words. The word count will be rounded up if it’s over 50.

Character/Story Consultation: Do you require an editor or second opinion on your work of latest creation? At $10.00 for a character and $20.00 for a fan fic (per chapter), I will schedule a time with you over tumblr, discord, or google to go over your desired work of fiction or character. 

Extra Costs:

Brand New Verse: If you wish me to write about a headcanon or drabble that does not exist in any media, this will cost an extra $5.00 if I accept to do this. I’m literally breaking brand new ideas and won’t try to half ass anything. This will also add another 500 words. Examples of this may include: “What sort of Pokemon lineup would Vox Machina of Critical Role have”, “What types of benders would the cast of Sailor Moon be”, or “Who would win the Hunger Games from the cast of Batman Beyond?”.

NSFW: I can accept and write NSFW, but I have full reign to also deny those requests. I do not wish to write incest, no pedophilia, and nothing illegal. This will also add another 500 words to your story. This will also cost a $5.00 charge on this.

Original Character: If you want to include an original character of your choosing into the story, I can. I will require samples and this will cost an additional $5.00 as I’m working with something a tad unfamiliar. I may also be asking you a little more often about certain actions or choices said original character might do.

General Questions:

I wish to buy multiple headcanons/drabbles from you? Can this all count as one slot?

For the time being, no. I don’t want to be unfair to you or any other potential customer so in this case, one commission equals one slot. If I finish up all the slots and wish to continue this, I may change this rule.

Can I only commission Batman Beyond from you? What if I want a headcanon or drabble about something else?

I’m happy to accommodate! I have a ton of experience in several different fandoms and I’m happy to take a stab at something if you’d like to.

What fandoms are you interested in writing?

The absolutely easiest ones I can write about as a setting or with characters would be the following: DC Comics, DCAU (DC Animated Universe), Young Justice, Marvel, MCU, Marvel Exiles, Marvel 2099, Pokemon, Digimon, Harry Potter, Star Wars, Sailor Moon, Dragonball, Naruto, One Piece, Persona, BNHA/MHA/Hero Academia, American McGee’s Alice, TMNT, Final Fantasy, Dungeons and Dragons, Critical Role, Avatar: TLA/LOK, Legend of Zelda, Super Mario, Steven Universe, Kamen Rider, Game of Thrones, Invader Zim, The Hunger Games, The Promised Neverland, and a few odds and ends here. If you have any concerns or want to check with a fandom I may be familiar with, please don’t hesitate to ask.

If you aren’t familiar with a fandom but I’d like you to write it, will you?

It ultimately depends, but I will certainly try my best. I’ll generally read or watch as much as I can of the fandom to get a better understanding. If there’s a big learning curve (examples being watching say Supernatural or Dr. Who’s mega arcs), I may have to decline. I want to give you the best product I can and not half ass any of my work.

Will you accept any request?

No. If I feel like something is too difficult to write (EX: I’m unaware of the fandom, I’m too uncomfortable to write the material, etc) I will say no and ask if we could find a middle ground or a potential second option. If that’s impossible, then I will deny the request.

Can you do freebies?

I have to decline from doing freebies at this time.

Can you write about my original character and a canon character?

Sure. As stated earlier, I will be asking for references as much as possible if I’m totally unfamiliar with a character of your creation.

How and when do I pay for commissions?

We can sum it with these quick steps:

1) Following the requests and any questions, I will calculate the cost and email you an invoice. The invoice must be paid in full in order to proceed.

2) During said process, I will begin work immediately on your request. If the word count will go over the requested amount, I will notify you and give you the option to take a shortened story ato your desired word count or we can renegotiate to allow more words and a secondary invoice will be made. Once again, no progress will be done until the invoice is paid.

3) Once all invoices are paid, I will deliver the product to you via tumblr or via email.

What is your turnaround rate for writing?

This ultimately depends on how many commissions I have lined up as well. I do have a 50+ hour work week but I am eager to work on your story when I have time. I try to at least complete a project in 1 to 2 weeks upon beginning. If I need additional time, I will notify you of this. 

Can I do anything with the story afterwards?

Absolutely. You paid for the drabble/headcanon. You can post it anywhere you’d like. Depending on how I feel about certain headcanons or drabbles and if I can post it on my blog or Ao3, I will absolutely do so.

I suddenly had an idea and wanted to change my SFW story to be NSFW or vice versa. Can this be done?

I will only allow up to 2 major changes like this. If you wish to add something, the additional charges will be done to the final payment. As stated above, I will not release the product until payment is complete. If you wish to remove charges, I will not refund you. However, I will attempt to increase the word count to make this a fairly even trade.

What would constitute a major change?

As mentioned above, changing the format of the story from SFW to NSFW or vice versa. Also included would be wishing to add new original characters. Things such as “character goes to a picnic when we agreed upon a restaurant” or requests in a similar vein would not count as a major change.

What if I have more than 2 major changes for the fic?

I’ll ask that you request a new commission.

Can I simply donate to you?

You may if you wish!

I don’t have any money but do wish to support you. How may I do that?

Reblog and spread the word! This will only be for a limited time.

Why should I buy a commissions?

I have a little over 20 years of writing experience in several formats and fandoms. Aside from what you can find on the blog, I have assisted in creating unique battle scripts and plots for my own original projects and writing partners. I have created several unique plots with several praising the quality of work and creativity on display. 

[finleyjayne]

Dancing into Destruction

previously named Dancing Dreams

Boyfriend!Bucky x reader

Thank you to this anon for the request hope you like it. This is my first request ever so feedback is definitely welcome

Warnings: as you can see warnings include but are not limited to, Swearing, ANGST, intimidation by a loved one.

  Your relationship with Bucky was a dream. You both were naturally inclined to fill each other’s needs. Being with the other was as natural as breathing. Don’t let anyone fool you; you had gone through your fair share of lover’s quarrels with the tough super-soldier. They just never lasted longer than a few days. You built it with great care, making a foundation of trust and respect. Even though you had been dating each other for a bit over six months, he was very considerate of your need to wait to take it into the more physical aspects of a romantic relationship. There were often moments when you would have to take a step back when things got heated, but he never made you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable about your need for abstinence like some of your past boyfriends did. It was commendable, making it easier to commit to him and plan for your future together. 

 As you reached new heights within your connection, things became even more smooth. The time spent with Bucky seemed to be the best moments in your hectic life, leaving you with clarity and peace. Though most of the time you spent together consisted of you doing your schoolwork, lounging on the floor between the coffee table and the couch, while Bucky read or filled out reports from his latest missions. This complied with your idea of a perfect date; Simply spending time with the other without feeling like you have to suffocate the other with your presence or physical contact. Sure, every once in a while, you would cuddle close, watch a movie, just lay in his arms for hours talking. It was perfect. You were sure that Bucky felt the same way. 

 Your six month anniversary all but proved to you how much Bucky cared for you. He gave you the five-star gala treatment. A trip to the spa where they pampered you until your thoughts swam away, then dinner at the most exuberant restaurant he could convince Stark to pay for, then he finished the night off with a walk in the park where we first ran into each other. Well, more like you ran into him. To top the whole experience off, he gave you a gift showing just how much he listened to you when you went on your many long random tangents. When you had first opened the envelope, you were confused as to what exactly you were reading. The paper had a list of six dates and a pair of little stick figures dancing together, nothing else. Looking up at Bucky, you saw him blushing lightly. 

 "You mentioned once that you had always wanted to go dancing but were scared that you wouldn’t be any good, so I signed us up for dancing lessons at the dance school on 3rd. Those are the days and times that we have scheduled,“ He rasped bashfully, hand finding the back of his neck.

 You looked back up at him, the embodiment of deer in the headlights, as your brain raced to put the pieces of what he just said together. “Well, shit.”

 The words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. Bucky’s face droops immediately as he looks at you like a kicked puppy.

 "We don’t have to go if you don’t wanna. I just thought it would be fun—something to add variety.“  Bucky quickly covered, his cheeks turning even ruddier as you continued to stare at him. 

 "What? Oh, oh, that’s not… I don’t mean that that way, Buck, I just…. my gift will look real stupid now.” you explain quickly, trying to calm him. “I mean like I wasn’t expecting you to actually… so I made you something.” You hand him the small box from your full-skirts pocket. 

 His eyes grew bright as he hesitantly opened it. The delicate chain floated over his fingers as he pulled the set of dog tags and small running man charm into the light. “I was doing some research and came upon a tutorial for how to stamp metal. It seemed neat and thought you could use a reminder of what you have waiting for you when you’re out on missions.”

 "I love ‘em, doll.“ He said, letting out a chuckle when he read the inscription stamped neatly onto the metal of the tags.

 The weeks continued to pass in your typical fashion. The thought of spinning around on a dance floor in Bucky’s arms grew more and more enticing as the first lesson approached. Bucky was just as excited, occasionally whisking you into a simple box step as you cooked together in your small flat’s kitchen or dipping you into kisses, muttering how it was only the start. 

 When the day finally arrived, nothing could keep your attention for more than a few seconds. The sun was shining in the cloudless spring sky, and you were going to meet Bucky at the address he had texted you earlier that day after your last class. Your pace quickened as you neared the small boutique/studio. Your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling as you walked in the metal gated door. 

 No sooner did you make it into the small studio’s hallway when your phone started blaring Man on a Mission by Oh The Larceny. Swiftly digging it out of your messenger bag, you answer. "Hey, love, I just got here. How close are you?”

 "Heya, Sugarcube. I know you were so excited for this to be an ‘us’ thing, but I just got paged onto a mission. I wouldn’t go if there was an alternative. I will definitely make it up to you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.“

 Crestfallen, your shoulders slump. You can feel the telltale sting behind your eyes, but you fight them off. You sigh into the phone while trying to keep the hurt from your voice as much as possible. "It’s okay, not that I’m not going to let you off on your promise of making it up to me. There’s nothing you can do, though. So stay safe, Make sure you come home to me. And keep me updated if you can.”

 "Of course, I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else. I know you are probably bummed about missing the class, but it’s a mixed class of singles and couples. So why don’t you stay and try to enjoy it? You can teach me what I missed when I get back. Sound like a plan, Doll?“

 With your eyes downcast, you nod, "Sure thing, Buck. I love you.”

 "Love you, too. I gotta go get briefed. Talk to you as soon as I can. Try to have fun, please. Who knows, maybe you’ll make a new friend.“ And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving you in a heap of disappointment.

 Taking a deep breath, you walk into the mirrored classroom, head held high. As you scan the class, you find a place out of the way to put your bookbag for the duration of the lesson, taking the extra second to put your phone back on silent.

 There seemed to be quite a few couples paired off in the center of the room as the stragglers kept to the edges. Trying to keep your spirits up, you take a count of the fellow singles. At the sight of a few men leaning against the back wall, you let out a sigh, looks like there won’t be any problem coupling us off without having to deal with the confusion of women pairs. You were left-footed enough without the lack of a leading partner. 

 You took a seat on the side of the ballet barres as you waited for the class to begin. Within the few seconds it took you to get settled in the chair, you were approached by a taller man. He looked a little bashful as he shuffled his feet before clearing his throat and saying in a rich baritone. "Hello. I hope you don’t mind me coming over here, but my name’s Sean, and I kinda hoping you’d be my partner before we have to go through the awkward teacher mandated pairing.”

 Looking up at him, you can’t help the smile at the adorably bumbling man in front of you. “My name is (Y/N), and I’d love to be your partner for today. Truth be told, my boyfriend-slash-partner kinda ditched me for work but wanted me to come anyway.”

 "Well, his loss is sure to be my gain.“ He smiled, his straight white teeth making an appearance through his pink-tinged lips.

 "I wouldn’t count your chicks before they hatch, I will warn you that I am a bit clumsy." 

 "Ha, look at that, I don’t mind as long as you can be patient with my inability to pick up steps.”

 "Patience is a virtue I am known to exude when the time calls for it,“ you reply cheekily. You could feel the beginnings of a great friendship.

 And great friendship it was. Throughout the class, you shared many laughs, smiles, and the perfect amount of innocent banter. By the end, you were sure that you couldn’t wait another two weeks before you talked to Sean. He was super cool and was actually taking some of the same classes as you at the university. So you did what you always did when you found someone you liked, you gave him your phone number and made plans to grab a coffee after your shared class the next day. 

 Walking home, Bucky’s slight was pretty far from your brain. You sent him a little summary of the class and how he was right about you making a new friend, before plugging your phone into it’s charging station in the kitchen and going to bed.

 Bucky came home five days later, flowers and chocolates in hand, ready to shower you in all the love he could give you. Knocking on your door, you answered with a squeal before jumping onto him, throwing your arms around his neck. 

 "You’re home! Why didn’t you tell me you were on your way back? I would’ve met you at the tower.” You ramble, peppering his face in kisses.

 "I wanted to surprise my best girl. After all, What better way to ask for forgiveness for missing our last date than with flowers and your favorite chocolates?“ He proclaims, squeezing you back as he walks you both into your flat, kicking the door closed behind you. 

 You are a giggly mess as he pushes his head into the crook of your neck, holding you to him as if you were a lifeline back to himself. "Well, I guess I’ll forgive you this once. After all, without you bailing on me, I wouldn’t have a new friend and note buddy in sociology.” You say. 

 "Well, I’m glad to hear you had a good time. I promise I’ll make the next one. Speaking of dancing, I wanna see what you learned.“

And so went the rest of your night; you catching him up on all the things that happened throughout your week, and him telling you about how stupid Sam and Steve were while they tried to be undercover. Followed by copious amounts of cuddles on your old couch while A little Princess plays on the TV. That is the first time that Bucky slept over at your apartment. 

 Weeks go by rather quickly, you find yourself balancing your life differently. You spend your free time between classes going over lecture notes, talking books, and just generally spending time with Sean instead of calling Bucky. You still spend most of your nights with Bucky unless he has a mission. Your study time was also different. Instead of spending it on your floor, you spend it in the on-campus library with a group of fellow classmates. 

 Honestly, you don’t think twice. Sure, you were spending less time with Bucky, but he was usually the one telling you to find ways to get out more. That’s precisely what you were doing. You were positive that Bucky would fully endorse your new schedule, and you were blind to all the signs that he wasn’t.

 Months flew by with this new agenda. You were happy, things with Bucky were great. You loved him. Your dance classes were full of spinning around the floor with him, laughing when your eyes met with Sean’s across the room. Often times, Bucky would give a half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and squeeze you tighter into his arms.  

 The first time you noticed his sour face, your heart gave a subtle flutter. Why was he acting so cold? He’s the one who wanted you to make more friends. Shrugging it off as just one of his moods, you give his shoulder a little squeeze, smiling up at him. 

 More time passes, Finals draw nearer, and you find yourself spending more and more time with Sean instead of Bucky. You fill your days with endless notes, quizzing the other on what seems to be infinite terms, principles, and scenarios. 

 As you fill your days with academics, your nights fill themselves with Bucky. More time is spent with him following you around, not letting you out of his arms for more than a few minutes, and it was driving you into insanity. Bucky never was a clingy boyfriend. He always respected that you had a life outside of him. Usually, there was nothing he loved more than seeing you enjoy the freedom he fought to protect. Recently it felt as if he resented your life outside of him. He texted you constantly. If he knew you were with Sean, he would call you. If you were even ten minutes late to a date, he would get super angry. There was nothing you could do right. He was a boiling pot of hot and cold. 

 The night of your big sociology test, you came home, after a celebratory drink with Sean, to Bucky sitting on your couch. His back was curved, elbows rested on his splayed knees, hands clasped over his frown, brows pulled together in a tight scowl. This isn’t good. 

 "Hey Buck, I wasn’t expecting you to be here tonight?” you say, setting your small wallet and keys on the entryway table. You try to keep your voice even as you approached him. 

 He huffed, his eyes following you as you walk further into your apartment. “Of course, you forgot.” His beautiful bariton was dark with unspoken accusations.

 "What do you mean, forgot? Did we have plans?“

 "Yeah, Doll, we did. We were supposed to meet to go to Tony’s birthday party together. When you didn’t show up and didn’t answer your phone, I got worried and came here.” He growls derisively

 "Isn’t that next week, on the 28th?“ your brows scrunching in confusion?

 "It’s been a week. Today is the 28th!” He spits, standing. “I see my concern was misplaced. You obviously don’t care enough to read my texts anymore.”

 Your jaw pops open, “What do you mean, I haven’t gotten any texts from you!” You pull out your phone and click it on to see not one, but several missed texts and a few missed calls with voicemails. “Fuck. I’m sorry Bucky, I mustn’t have turned my ringer back on after my test.”

 "Yeah, well, I would say it’s okay, but it’s not. I’m hurt, you are always gone, and when you are here, your head is a million miles away. I don’t know what happened. Actually, I do. Sean happened. Ever since you met him, it’s always 'Sean this, Sean that.’“

 Your eyes are opened so wide as you stare at the fuming Bucky. You knew he was a little jealous, but you’ve never seen him this upset at someone being close to you.

  You open your mouth to respond, but Bucky cuts you off. "I bet you were with Sean while I was sitting here wondering if you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

 "That’s not fair, Bucky. Sean has nothing to do with this. It was my own mistake, and Sean is my friend. It’s not like I could even try replacing you. Sean isn’t interested in me.“

 "That’s a load of bullshit. I’ve seen how he looks at you.” Bucky rages. “And you’re no better. You are continually eye-fucking him. If I didn’t know better, I would assume that you were actually fucking him, but you’re too much of a baby to even try that.”

 "What do you mean too much of a baby? And how does he look at me?“ you yell back, hurt piling behind your eyes, causing your sinuses to burn with unshed tears. Where was all of this coming from? This is not the Bucky that you know. The Bucky you know is sweet and loyal, not this insecure dickwad.

 "Oh, you know exactly what I mean on both counts! He looks at you like you are a piece of meat he’s hunting. Another notch in his belt. Too bad for him. You can’t even get to second base with your long-term boyfriend without backing out.” He insults, coming to stand in front of you. The few inches he has on you feeling like feet as he towers over you.

 "Bucky, I think you need to leave.“ You say as calmly as you can, trying to keep the fear from your features. 

 "I think your right. I think you need to think really hard about what you want. I love you, but I won’t play second fiddle to some snot-nosed brat. When you decide that you are willing to put forth effort in our relationship, you know where I live.” He says, walking out of your front door. 

 The door’s slam shut is the last straw; tears stream down your cheeks in salty turrets. You don’t even notice the pencil falling out from behind your ear as you collapse into a heap of sobs on the floor. How dare he? How could he say such hurtful things? I thought he was happy that I had a new friend.

 A few days go by with no word from Bucky. Your last final comes and goes. You ignore everything, preferring to mope in your self-pity alone. Your home turns into a giant blanket-fort before you can even think about what you are doing. Thinking about what Bucky said to you, you hide away from the hurt you feel. Maybe he was right, you had been spending more time with Sean lately than you did with Bucky. When was the last time you saw him that wasn’t just you collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep in his arms? A few weeks at least. 

 Gods, you were an idiot. How could you not see how far away you had drifted from him? He was right, you were scared to go with your instincts when it came to the physical things in your relationship. It was wrong of him to use it against you like that, but it was true. 

 Was he right about what Sean wanted with you, though? If so, you were going to need to set some clear-cut rules. If not, you were still going to have to make sure that you weren’t ignoring Bucky just to spend time with Sean. It wasn’t right to do that, because you love Bucky. He gave you a joy that you had yet to find with anyone else, Sean included.

  Sighing into your body pillow, you sit up. You know what you have to do. Climbing out of your blanket fort, you pull on a hoodie and some simple trainers. Quickly, you gather your keys and wallet before you chicken out on what needs to happen and head out the door, pushing your way swiftly to where you know Bucky will be. 

 When you finally make it to the Avenger’s Tower, you have gotten one too many disapproving stares from the businesspeople. You march right into the building and scan your card to get into the Avenger’s only elevator. “Friday, will you take me to where Bucky is. It’s important.”

 "Of course, miss.“ came the swift reply. 

 Not five minutes later, you were face-to-door with Bucky’s office placard. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to center yourself. Before you can knock, Bucky opens the door.

 "Doll,” He said, His tone night and day to the one he used the last time you spoke.

 "Hey Buck, we need to talk, do you have a moment.

 Your puffy eyes, disheveled pajama fashion statement, and dejected tone must have tipped him off to how well I was doing because he simply stepped aside, letting me into the office before pulling me into a tight hug. 

 "Does this mean you are choosing us?“ He whispers nervously.

 "Yes. But you need to know that you hurt me and it wasn’t okay. You should’ve just told me how you were feeling. You are an adult, Buck. The main reason our relationship has been going so well is that we are honest with each other. I love you, but you exploded, and it not only scared me, but you also used the one thing that I have problems with against me.” you say tears wetting his shirt as you lean into the hug.

 "I’m so sorry, Sugarcube. I knew as soon as I said it that I crossed the line, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t come back. I love you. Please forgive me.“

 "I forgive you, but you are going to have to earn back some of the trust I gave you. You are my priority, but Sean is still going to be one of my friends.”

 "Reasonable. I love you.“ He whispered, holding you tighter to his chest. And you knew that even if it wasn’t alright at the moment, it was going to be.

[mysmedrabbles]

Another Place [Yoosung Kim]

from the Fourth Wall breaking series

quote contributors: 2 anons and @thedujifuji (submissions bolded, will not be posting the actual asks)

a/n: welcome back to hell i’ll be your tour guide,, finally posting these after only 19 years!! Hope you guys enjoy!

warnings: big sad

-7th wall mod alex

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       It was the late night chats that were always the loneliest. Staring up into the bleak cracked ceiling, you traced the shadows cast by the moon outside with your eyes, the empty feeling filling you yet again... a void that demanded to be felt no matter the cost. It was times like these, under the cover of darkness where you were left alone with your thoughts, a yearning so deep you could swear you would unravel, leaving nothing but the shell of the person you once was.

       Man this game was fucking you up.

       Rolling on your side, you checked you phone, the bright light assaulting your eyes. Able to distinguish the time, you made your way to the Mystic Messenger app. Two minutes to 2 am. Ten minutes until you could sleep.

`

       With the cheery tune of the opening screen, a smile couldn't help but find its way to your face, an almost giddy sensation filling the previous void you’d longed to be filled, an otherworldly feel as you surveyed the winnings of the latest Honey Buddha Chip package on your screen. Not much, but enough for a call perhaps? A call to a certain golden haired boy? 

       One more minute until the chatroom opened.

` 

       Your eyes surveyed the screen yet again, looking for something to do to pass the ever stretching seconds, when the familiar ring of a phone call echoed through your room. A call. From Yoosung. A glitch? Weren’t calls supposed to happen after chatrooms? 

       Without thinking you pressed answer, the smiling face the blonde avatar bore fading away as the call subtitles took its place. 

`

      “Hello?” his voice was higher than usual, almost panicked, and yet you could feel your heart flip in your chest as his voice struck you, a small bit of reality you had left. “Hello?” came Yoosungs voice again, voice cracking near the end. “Damn it, damn it.” you heard him mutter from the other end. 

       You expected a chatbox to pop up, to respond, but nothing came, nothing but silence as the incoherent muttering came from far away on the other end. You listened intently... would anything happen? What kind of glitch was this? 

       “Hel-damn it, Seven said this would work- Hello?”

       Cheritz? Answer box please?? 

`

       You heard a deep breath on the other end, and you could almost imagine Yoosung closing his eyes as he calmed himself, one hand gripping the table to keep himself steady as the other held his phone to his ear. 

      “Hello? I- MC... that’s... thats not your real name is it. I dont know... if you can hear me, I’m praying Seven could do that for me.. I-Mc-” his voice wavered dangerously, trying his best to collect himself before he continued, his voice weaker than before, “If you can hear me... please.. say something-i- let me know you’re there.”

       Were you supposed to... answer? It felt silly, replying to the emptiness, saying something that would immediately be swallowed by the dark, but it also felt wrong to sit there doing nothing, waiting vainly for a chat box to appear. Maybe it was a new update.

       “...Hello?”

Silence.

       Just as you moved to end call, Yoosung spoke again, his voice drawn to a hush, as if he were afraid to break the fine glass line separating the two of your worlds. “You're..you’re real,” he breathed, defenses down as he himself clutched his phone desperately with both hands, pressing the device as close to his ear as he could before continuing, “I thought- that you were just a character on a screen I never- there’s so much I need to tell you, so much that-”

       “Yoosung?” was all you could muster, your mind blank at the reality you were facing, until the only thing that could be heard was your heartbeat pounding in your ears, distorting the silence of your room.

       “-And I don’t know how much time we- yes?”

There was so much you wanted to say to him...

       “Thank you,” you started. Whether this was real or not, you weren’t going to pass up an opportunity to talk to him. The idea that this might have just been another simulation broke your heart, but these were quickly rushed away when you looked down at the continuing phone call, remembering Yoosung on the other end.

       His rambling was cut by your thanks, confusing him, it was he who should be thanking you, not the other way around, he started to respond, but you beat him to it, “Yoosung I- in- in you I saw so much of myself; I was,” you took a deep breath before continuing, “so lost, wanting to move forward but so afraid to let go of the past. You showed me,” a crack in your voice as tears threatened to swallow you whole, emotions you hadn’t known you even had rising rapidly to the surface, “You showed me that it's possible to move forward even after you've lost your way. You have helped me and shown me far more kindness than anyone else ever did when I was at my lowest point and because of you I want to be a better per..son with ... every passing day.”

       You finished with a flustered breath, heat suddenly rushing to your cheeks as you realized your declaration, completely our of character from your usual stoic self. This was a game. You declared your love to... someone who wasn’t even real. The shame of idiocy spread through your chest the longer he stayed silent, only his own heavy breathing heard on the other end. 

`

       Taking a second to bring himself back together, Yoosung tried to ignore the warmth spreading through his body, heart and gut synchronized in a flustered dance, both struggling to keep up with the racing of his mind. It didn’t seem real, that the person he’d inevitably loved- continued to fall in love with day after day, was real, not just a character made up by Seven, a virus in the app.

`

       You heard a small giggle from Yoosung, making your heart soar. You could almost imagine his face, violet eyes shining with the threat of tears, blush adorning a smiling expression as he vainly tried to hide his face in his hands, too embarrassed by the way your words stripped him of rationality, touched him in a way where he’d lost all functionality, enraptured by your voice, by you. 

       A smile made its way onto your face as you continued, set to get everything you’d wanted to say out in the open, “You’re amazing and I just, I love you so much and I wish, I wish more guys were like you in this world. You’re so, soft, amazing, artistic, and an excellent cook? The omurice will never stop looking delicious.”

       To this he finally had a response, “It was! It was delicious! If I send you the recipe will you promise to make it?”

       “Of course.”

       “I’ll see if I can text it to you! You won't Believe the things I went through to get to this point, good thing it was worth it in the end! Being with you is always worth it..” 

       He was rambling, and the initial tenseness of the first meet shaken off as his infectious laughter filled the receiver, voice bright with excitement as he went on about the other recipes he tried in his spare time, the ones he’d always wanted to make one day for you... the ones he never could.

`

       His voice started to crack, static becoming more and more prominent as his voice was broken by what? Bad cell service? The fact that you were talking across dimensions? 

       Yoosung could be heard getting sad, his tone dropping, a melancholic need for you filling his head, suffocating him with thoughts of you. He paused his words, starting anew. “MC I... I’m sorry I think... we’re running out of time but before I go I just... I need to tell you... gah why is this so hard.”

A pause.

       “I love you... truly. You showed me kindness when there was no one who believed in me, and it’s because of your love that I’m still alive.. that I have something worth living for. Every time you play my route...” the static got worse, ripping a few words from his sentence, actively trying to separate the two of you as he went on, “...I wish I could protect you forever, make you as happy as you make me.. I wish we had more t- I wish we had more time. There’s so much I want to ask you, so much I’m sure you want to ask. Please, no matter what.. stay happy for me.”

Well...actually.. I do have one serious question for you... Yoosung Kim: does Yoosung Kim is bi?” you chuckled cautiously, a weight lifted as you heard his broken up giggle in response, and for a second you could almost believe that everything would be okay.

The static got louder, cutting in between Yoosung’s words, only fragments of a, “well - lov- ou so,- h-pe s-,” were able to be made, connection weakening, Yoosung’s presence fading away.

`

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Tapping on the phone, where you were praying for some sort of relief, you were only met with a blank screen, his voice gone, leaving a gaping hole where he’d buried himself into your heart.

`

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Gone.

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[anonwrite]

Into the Stratosphere (Part 1)

The author wants to be anon.

The author wants to know:

What readers would find interesting or boring in the story, as well as what feels out of place or unnecessary. English is not a native language, please point out what doesn’t sound natural.

“I write for myself and my imagination, but I know the pace or wording may not fit what most people expect from good writing. I want to know how to polish this up.”

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

Readers can give comments in reply or reblog to this post

Readers can send me anon comments with the title of the post

Readers can use THIS google doc - to do a deeper commenting

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

Part 1

“Hey, check this out!”, a young voice resonated in the hut made of metal scraps and ship parts. One of the two girls sitting at the tables filled with broken mechanical devices and trash twirled around in an old leather chair bursting with its stuffing in several places.

“I’ve never seen a cloud this big before”, the girl in the chair pointed at a screen behind her, showing a bunch of glowing dots.

The other girl, not looking up from the scraps she was carefully taking apart answered in a soft voice, “So you’re getting excited at the *size* of clouds now”, laughing a little, “are you really that bored?”

Still trying to get the other’s full attention the girl beamed and got up. “It hasn’t rained in like half a year, maybe we’ll finally get some wetness up in this wasteland of a desert”

Pushing her messy chin length hair behind her ears the other looked up to watch the screen herself. Still filled with excitement the girl that had been looking at the signals from the sky was already stuffing a few things in a rugged bag. “I’m off to check if I can see it on the horizon, the wind should bring it further our way. Maybe I can already tell the others about it too”

And just like that, throwing it over her shoulder and wrapping her head in a light fabric she stormed out. “Be safe out there, Maya!”, the other called after her.

The hut was their home, and had been that for years. Once an abandoned and broken down building, only a few of the original walls had survived and gave the hut the base structure. Walls from shipwrecks and metal sheets held up and supported by metal streams filled out the rest and made it habitable. Years ago, when this place hadn’t been the girls home for long, they found old weather equipment in the ground that had been hidden by sand and dirt. Kora had spent months on trying to get it to work, only to spend several months more studying how it even worked.

Maya, as the older of the bunch, despite being sceptical, let her do this and gradually the hut turned into a weather station for the desert people who appreciate the forecast in the rough climate of the desolate planet from time to time. Though the desert people weren’t typically aggressive or dangerous, they were still not always to be trusted and Maya had found that out on several occasions on trips to the next big city.

Largely getting their food from old family friends and jobs fixing up broken things the two girls who once chose their home as a place of isolation had actually become an important piece of the community and were respected by the people that knew them.

As of now, Kora was working on a fusion cell worth enough to get them through the next few months, given she actually figured out how to fix the thing. “Damn it.”, she mumbled and placed her tools down. It was bent out of shape and she didn’t know if it would ever work again. Frustrated she got up to walk back to their kitchen, she started rearranging the containers of condiments, trying to take her mind of her apparent failure.

She thought about what they were actually working towards. Was there a goal for them to reach, something for them to discover? Kora thought her life had lead to a dead end where what lies ahead won’t ever be new or exciting to her. She started heating up a food packet they bought in town while her mind went different places. They were getting by, had enough food, essentially did what being adult was. Or was it?

She could try getting a job in town, stop hiding away in this desolate place and actually face the world. Was she trained enough to be able to prevail out there? The idea scared her and she retreated back to her sleeping mat, steaming food packet in one hand and a bent out of shape spoon in the other.

Maya had ran over to visit their nearest neighbors in her excitement, a family with six children, ages ranging from a baby to a boy about the same age as her. The run was rather long, in the scorching sun Maya felt thankful she had water and fairly good health to get her through. The mother was feeding camels outside when she saw Maya walking towards them and waved at her.

Inside the house she was greeted warmly. Offered cold refreshments they sat down at the livingroom table with the kids running around, mother holding the youngest in her arm. “Are you dear girls alright by yourself? Have there been raiders? I’ve heard from town people are getting desperate in this dry heat-” “Don’t worry about us, we’ve been good and we’ll be good, actually - I’m here because of this heat”, Maya interrupted the mother’s words in a calming manner, “Our monitors show a big cloud, way in the east, coming towards us”

“I heard Mayas voice, is she here?“, the eldest son walked in, wiping motor oil off his hands with a rug. When he saw her, he threw her a big smile and sat down with them at the table with a huff. "She was just talking about possible rain, promise me you’ll go into town to buy us some new food and supplies, alright sugar?”, the mother turned to him and requested.

“Will do”, he smiled again and looked at Maya, “only if Maya comes with me though, of course.”, he said jokingly. Maya couldn’t help but laugh at that and the mother smiled and excused herself back outside to look after the animals and leave the two alone. “How much food do you still have?”, he asked after carefully waiting until his mother was out of hearing range, “I know we usually don’t have to worry about running out of stuff at all, with Dad working at the town suppliance office and our animals, but even he took me by the side and hinted things are looking bleak.” He laughed awkwardly to mask his concern.

“We’re all good, we stock for long and don’t exactly need thaaaat much. We’re only two people after all, unlike…”, she motioned around to three of the other siblings chasing each others through the house. “If I can help around here, you have to message me. Do you still have the radio phone Kora fixed up for you?” The boy lowered his voice and scooted closer to Maya. “Keep it in my bed. My mom still thinks it’s dark magic or something”, he shook his head and smirked. “I’ll use it for emergencies. I promise.”

He turned to one of his brothers and held his arm, “Why don’t you all play outside for a bit? It’s nice and bright out. Take your brothers and sisters.” When he realeased the boy’s arm he was already running out of the door with his siblings. “Don’t go too far from the house!”, he tried warning them before they completely disappeared out of the house.

It had gotten way more quiet now, besides the few animals from outside and the wind blowing against the desert structure, it had gotten peaceful. “I don’t know how you do it”, Maya said. The boy just picked up a glass from the table and turned it in his hands, looking at how the light coming in through the windows would pass through it at different angles.

“Once the ground is wet, supply and merchant ships can land and we’ll all be fine. It’s been worse before.”, he sat the glass back down on the big weathered table. His voice was determined and Maya questioned if he was trying to convince himself of what he said or if he truly believed it.

Maya nodded and looked around. After a while of sitting in silence he spoke again. “Do you know for sure it’s a cloud? And it’s not moving away?”, he asked hopeful. “Looked like any other cloud I’ve seen on our monitor before. But big. And the wind, the wind usually comes from the east. So it should carry it right towards us”, she said. The boy exhaled loudly and stood from his chair. “Come out with me to the back, I’ve been working on something.”, he called out already walking through the back door into the sun.

Outside stood a bike, with misshapen panels that looked like it could be solar powered. The boy walked over to the thing, standing next to it proudly and a motioned for Maya to come closer. “My dad brought this home the other day. Broken messenger bike from town, the motor wasn’t powerful enough to make it run smoothly to operate,” he crouched down and pulled at the side to open the bike, revealing the rusty and dirty insides. “It still needs normal fuel, but I hooked up some old sun panels so it should run way more smooth with the extra power.”

Maya walked around the misshapen thing, the colors scraped off the sides of bike, making her question if it was really let go because it didn’t run anymore or if there was an accident involving the bike. “Sit on it, it’s easy to control”, the boy told her. Reluctantly but intrigued Maya got onto the bike, putting her hands on the handles and feeling the bike react to her weight by creaking. Despite that, it felt sturdy and she thought about this being way better than having to walk. “I want you to take it.”, he said.

Maya turned to him in disbelief. “If there’s anyone deserves it or needs it, it’d be  you. It’ll be easier to get around. And it’s made to travel over this rough terrain.”

“You’re kidding”, Maya said quietly.

“Well, you got a message to deliver, don’t you? Go to town to tell them about the possibe rain. They can prepare for the landings.”, he smiled seeing her excitement grow.

She jumped off and gave him a big hug, throwing her hands around him. “Thank you so so much. This means a lot.”, she whispered.

He hugged back slightly and patiently waited for her to let go, overwhelmed by her closeness. “See, turn this for it to jump on.”, he taught her by showing. The bike stuttered and growled to life. “The petal down there will make it drive, the left handle lets you break. I tried it out, don’t put too much trust in the break.”

Maya was listening and could barely contain her excitement. Once she sat back on the bike, the boy held it and pulled away the safety break. Her start was wobbly, but she soon sped off into the desert, saying goodbye with only an energetic wave and driving off to the distance.

In the meantime, Kora had dug up an old book about trade from under her bed. Her empty food packed laid next to her, her nose was buried in the book. She didn’t know if it was fiction or not, sometimes it seemed like storytelling to her, but she did not care. The distant sound of a bike tore her out of her reading and made her jump, confused as to what someone with a motorbike was doing out here. Taking precaution she took a metal rod from the table when making her way to the door, only to soon realise the person on the bike was too familiar. Maya looked happy as she came closer and Kora knew already who had blessed her with the gift.

“Is that what he paid you for your hand in marriage?”, she taunted Maya when she came to a rough stop by the creaky old gate. Maya got off the bike and skipped over to Kora.

“Shush! We just have each others back, you know. If you went he would’ve given you this thing too”, she muttered smiling while hugging Kora. “If you say so. It looks like one of those city bikes, only-”, she made a face, “a little bit broken.”

“Well you saw that it works, so we shouldn’t complain”, Maya laughed and went inside, Kora following her.

“I’m going to town tomorrow, it’s too late now to make the trip. Even though this thing is substantially faster, I better not test my luck” Maya said while already shuffling steaming hot food in her mouth, huffing to cool it faster. She was now sitting at their cluttered table. She hadn’t eaten the entire day, but it was normal to ration out the food sparingly over long dry periods. Kora nodded without looking up, again occupied with her book, sitting across the room in her bed in the corner.

After cleaning up a little and making one last trip around the house to check if everything was in order, the sun had gone down and  they soon traded in the flickering light bulbs they had to illuminate their house for some well deserved sleep.

The heat of the morning woke the girls and Maya almost immediately fixed herself a bag for the trip to town. Kora took one last look at the monitor to confirm the cloud was still there, and it was, showing up closer and bigger than the day before. Before Maya left, Kora scraped together the last of her savings to stock them up on some food and water. Putting on her best clothes, Maya saw Kora slipping the money into her bag.

“We’re low on food and water?”, she guessed. Kora answered with a shrug and a mumbled “You know how it is, in case you find someone to trade with”

Bag strapped to the bike carefully, Maya was ready for the journey that’d easily take morning. Especially if she chatted with the people along the way, as she usually does. Kora trusted Maya’s social skills and knew she could look out for herself. Despite that, she watched her drive off with a little bit of worry in her stomach. When the bike became a small spot on the horizon and eventually disappeared in the glimmering heat over the desert hills, she went back inside to work on the fusion cell for now, hoping she’d fix it before the merchants would depart.

She needed a new approach to fixing it, this much she knew. She didn’t want to give up on this thing, if there was a way to fix this she swore to herself she’d find it. So she decided to wire it together with a generator and test the different circuits, checking which ones worked and which didn’t. She knew which ones didn’t work through sparks that’d be emitting from the thing, making her jump back every time they’d fly at her. She had to put away all the other electronics and devices to make sure nothing would get even more broken than it already was.

After the sun stood much higher than when Maya departed, she had tried every single one and could safely say what parts exactly needed fixing. Much to her dismay, the core seemed to not be connected correctly, throwing the entire thing off. She sunk back into her chair when she realized she had to open the entire thing to rewire it. She’d never done this and knew it wasn’t easy to do.

Frustrated she wondered if this was even worth trying. She looked around the home and her eyes stuck on the almost empty box with their food packets. She remembered their water tank outside being filled the lowest it’s probably ever been. She had spent a considerable amount of time creating a system that’d collect and purify rain, but that didn’t help when there was none.

Knowing she had to, she picked herself up and got to work.

Sweating and using most of the tools she had at hand, finally Kora had a break through. Carefully closing the cell that now glowed by itself, she knew she had done it.

Smiling at her achievement she wrapped it in cloth carefully and put it in a box. Maya would take it to sell it. They would be able to charge more for this than for anything else Kora had fixed up before. Satisfied with herself, she noted down some of her findings and what she did to fix the cell in her journal, for her to remember later if she ever got the opportunity to do this again.

A sudden continuous beeping tore Kora out of the situation. The monitor that was showing the distant big cloud before, carrying the hope of the desert people, was now blinking red and making jarring noises.

The girl walked to the monitor and inspected the old device. To Kora’s relief nothing seemed to be wrong, she figured it just picked up on the signals of starships that would land when the rain would dampen and thicken the ground terrain, allowing trade and an interchange of information that they had been starved of for months now.

Skillfully pressing a few buttons the beeping stopped and she tried to look further into how many ships were there to make a rough estimate. Any information like this would help prepare and make sure everything would go smoothly.

Bent over the device, focused on the screen, Kora was interrupted yet again. A static coming from the communication box next to the makeshift weather station caught her attention. Then, a distorted voice came from the ancient speakers Kora had presumed broken.

“Is anyone picking up this signal.”, the voice spoke barely distinguishable words.

Stunned and surprised Kora stood for a second. Usually ships would not try and make contact and if they did, they’d try to connect to town and not to here.  Maya and Kora used to have radio equipment to be able to make contact with ships and people from far away, but decided they wanted to avoid trouble and now had portable close range radio phones instead, to ensure communication between the people they knew and trusted, not outsiders.

“Is someone picking this signal up?”, the voice repeated and Kora started frantically digging through boxes to find an old microphone. When she found it, she hooked it up to to the dusty communication box. She took a deep breath and spoke.

“Yes. Not very clear, but I can hear you”, she said, somewhere between excited and scared.

The static responded after a few seconds. “Who am I speaking with?”, it asked.

Kora’s heart sunk as she realised this might be important business. They probably wanted to speak to the one in charge, the mayor or the few town officials that they had.

“My name is Kora, I live in the outskirts of Yilandir, the town”

The static took longer to respond this time and Kora bit her lip in nervousness. How deeply she wished for Maya to be there. Maya would know what to say, she thought.

“How big is the population?”, it said.

Kora responded explaining how there were about 11.000 people as far as she knew, many living right by the town but also quite a few living scattered around it. Yilandir wasn’t big and usually didn’t get much attention, she knew there were bigger cities at the opposite end of the planet, but there were a few skillful workers here that’d get jobs fixing merchant ships, or some ships that’d pass by needed to fuel up coincidentally when landing was possible. The people also liked buying food and other goods from merchants, making this a safe place to go to earn money for travellers.

Having said all that she could, Kora went quiet and waited for a response. Instead of a response, the static went away completely and left her confused in silence.

Kora had almost pushed all her thoughts about the weird static incident away when she noticed swirled up dust way off on the horizon. She was sitting outside in the shade of the home, sun going down behind her, already turning the sky all sorts of colors. She had been looking at the stars that were shining and becoming more in numbers by the minute. She knew it was Maya returning from her day in the city and remembered wanting to ask her what she would’ve done about the incident.

With Maya slowly coming closer, Kora went inside to fix her some hot food to welcome her, and decided to make some tea aswell. The crumbled packet of leaf she used for the tea was from a foreign planet, she was told, making it the most contact she’d had with the world outside of Yilandir.

Kora was stirring the tea when she heard Maya’s bike finally closing in. She closed the lid to let it sit and went to meet her at the gate.

Maya looked sweaty, understandable in this heat, but happy. When she got off the bike Kora could already see her bag was full of food and other stuff, more than the money she put in the bag could’ve possibly bought. What could you say, Maya was just that charming. She went in for a hug and Kora felt a bit more at ease now that she was back.

“Need help carrying that?”, Kora asked as they pulled away from the welcome hug.

“No, it’s not as much as it looks. Still quite a lot though-”, she struggled visibly to lift the bag, “everyone was super thankful for the info. Took my word for it, I told them maybe one or two more days max and the rain should come.” Kora couldn’t help but wonder what she did to get such a good deal. She was charming, sure- but not charming enough you’d gift her your scarce food. She hoped the old townfolk weren’t convinced the girls were the ones to credit for the rain, as she didn’t want to feed old superstitions.

The two went inside and Maya happily took what Kora had prepared for her. They both sat on the floor for a while, in silence, only Maya was eating. The tea had sat long enough and it looked almost like an oil spill glitter in the now dusty golden water, smelling refreshing and sweet at the same time.

“Think we should try and get away from here?”, Kora asked.

Maya took her time answering. “Why go somewhere new when we know for sure we’re just fine here”, she said after having a few more bites of the food.

Kora looked down and stirred the tea, making multicoloured swirls dance in the cup.

“This time when the ships land, I want to see if I can maybe find someone willing to let teach me. Mechanics and stuff. Like, fixing actual useful things and not just trash that’s thrown away or so old it’s from before we were even born.”, Kora spoke, still looking down.

“Don’t feel like you’re not doing anything useful, you’re fine the way it is. I can’t be sure you’re safe when you go off somewhere just to see a bit of the world”, Maya told Kora, “and you can’t look over me, either. It just seems so unnecessaryily risky”

Kora nodded, still avoiding looking at Maya.

“If you really want to do it though, you have to do it. If you think it makes you happy.”, Maya added.

Now Kora looked up at Maya and smiled. “Thank you”, she simply said, then went back to sipping her tea by Maya’s side.

The light slowly faded away until only starlight lit up the home. Light pollution wasn’t a thing here, countless stars could be seen in the night sky. Kora decided to finally get up and put away their now empty cups. “I’m going to check the monitor and then see if I can see the cloud from here already before heading to bed, want to come too?”, she asked the girl that was still cuddled up on the floor.

Maya yawned and stretched. “You can tell me if you see something”, she said in a sleepy voice.

The monitor showed the same as before, but the cloud had gotten closer now. Even though it wasn’t cold, Kora still threw on a jacket and went outside. Walking around the hut to the back she could already make up a dark outline in the sky where the starlight was blocked by the cluster of clouds. It stretched far and towered like a black wall over the desert dunes. When Kora concentrated on the outline, she could swear she saw it slowly but steadily moving towards her.

She stood and watched for a little, trying to see if she could make out darker shadows thrown by merchant ships everyone was desperately expecting. A few minutes went by before she noticed diffused blinking in the clouds. This meant there had to be at least one ship, flying in the cloud. A bit weird, she thought, the electromagnetic tension in clouds must mess with their equipment on board. Why were they not flying above it or below it? Or maybe she was way off and they had a perfectly good reason for flying in the clouds. One last look before going back inside and she noticed a few more lights up there. She turned her back on it and went inside, closing the door quietly, just to see Maya had went to bed already. It didn’t take long before Kora laid in bed too, mentally preparing for the rain.

The girls woke to the sounds of a caravan of camels and other indigenous animals on their way to the city. They must have noticed the clouds and wanted to use their chance to trade with the outside world. Maya immediately got excited and wanted to check out the strangers right away, but before storming out the hut Kora got a hold of her.

In a groggy voice Kora explained her concern. “We’re all running on our last reserves. At least most people by now are. We don’t know these people so-" "They’re not here for trouble, it’s a caravan for goodness sake.”, Maya interrupted Kora.

Kora shrugged, still in her bed, and pointed out of the tinted window next to their beds.

“At least check them out from inside first before you go and see what they’re up about”, she said before turning over and trying to get a few more minutes of sleep.

Upon further inspection, the fully covered people walking the caravan seemed to be fully armed as well, so Maya gave in. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go out  to meet armed people when we can’t make sure if friendly or not, she admitted. She still insisted on watching the entire thing pass their home and stood by the window until the very last camel was out of sight.

Kora got herself up and had prepared breakfast for them, the same food packets from town she steamed and heated up every day. In the back of some shelves she found some spices she decided to throw in the sticky mess. The same food every day made even the best food taste bland, and the generic tasting food packets basically everyone was eating definitely already didn’t taste all too well in itself. They filled you up and did what they were supposed to, but not more.

They ate together before getting ready for the day. It looked like this was going to be the big day, the cloud had creeped far enough to block out the sun and was on its way towards town. The girls threw together a few essentials to take with them for the event.

It was certain they were going together, an event like this was celebrated and treated like a get together for everyone, plus it was an event to do business and find new contacts. Kora didn’t want to bring it up again, but she was set on learning more about mechanics. Even though she knew the road she was choosing may be uncertain, she felt sure of her decision and was ready to start a new chapter. Given she would find someone willing to teach her, of course.

Maya on the other hand was simply excited to see everyone together again. In her happy ramblings she talked about how the governor would deliver a speech, people would play board games the way it was last time, she could be meeting old and new friends and all the things Maya found cool.

Kora listened and smirked, knowing how gambling was running wild when everyone was feeling confident and steady with their finances right before the trade event. She doubted the people would take risks now, after the experience of how life could dry them out just by chance.

“They even let me play, were you with me when that happened?”, Maya was putting their radio phones into their seperate bags.

Kora carefully took her wrapped up fusion cell to sell once the market was up and going and placed it in her bag. And just like that, they were ready to take the trip, even ready to spend the night in town if needed.

The bike stuttered and moaned under the weight of them both and their bags, the way to town dragged on forever in hot anticipation.

When they arrived it was as if the anticipation had jumped over like a spark to everyone and snowballed into something that could almost be felt on the skin when walking through the dusty streets. The small capital, home to the people of the desert, was the only place to do business without having to already know your business partner for years, those few who could afford would gamble for rare fortunes from other worlds you could only find here. Sometimes even those who couldn’t afford it would gamble. And although you could not compare the small yellow city to a metropolis with its own heartbeat, it had its way of dealing with strays.

No matter who you were, sooner or later you would have to come here, the main water tanks and farmers selling produce were the base for survival. Now was the time where everyone wanted to come and see what travelers from other planets might have to offer, too. People like Kora would see if they could get a job on deck, working on one of the ships that would land. Very few of those had ever come back from their journey, which is exactly why Kora had felt guilty of her dream for so long.

Driving through streets which were of course way busier than usual, the girls saw preparations were happening fast, the sky had darkened already. The open field behind town hall was being kept open and barren as a landing spot, but people were already setting up market signs around it. There were a few women in dainty scarfs who had painted their faces, trying to appeal to the travellers. Maya averted her eyes, she thought even though her people were dependent on those travellers, they should take pride in their home and not sell themselves to those passing through.

By a crumbling fountain, drained of any water, the two came to a halt. Kora looked towards the sky while unpacking her stuff from the bike while Maya was thrilled by the lively atmosphere. The first drops of rain soon fell and so did the tension as everyone’s hopes came true.

“Town hall, with our stuff?”, Kora asked Maya fidgeting with her hands.

“I want to go say hi to everyone, people are still setting up their market stuff, outside a bit-”, Maya cut herself off by turning her face up and feeling the waterdrops hit her skin.

Kora laughed and her heart warmed up seeing Maya so excited, but she was for sure not going to miss the announcements in town hall.

Every time the travelers would come, just when the rain had started falling and the ground wasn’t fit for landing just yet, the people would gather and inform others of all important things, such as newly formed marriages or losses or big plans.

Kora saw the governor, an old soul named Hank Hill, already up front preparing to talk when she slipped by the townfolk into the massive sandstone hall. Kora trusted him. Though she also knew she was responsible for herself, it felt as if she wasn’t completely alone in times she needed help. This feeling was shared by many and was what had kept Hill in office for years.

“Hello my friends and - neighbours. Let us celebrate. Our land has given us the gift of water once again and we will savour it.”, the man coughed and continued, “-more efficiently, ever since last rainfall we have expanded our collectors and added an extra water tank-”, some people were cheering already, “so that we don’t come close to running dry like *this* again.”

The ‘like this again’ felt like a collective gut punch and concerned murmuring spread through the crowd. The governor sighed and continued. “It is true that we would have run out of water very soon if the rain hadn’t come now, but let us thank God for giving us this gift and not think about negative what-ifs.

We can be sure to welcome outsiders today, who will give us many opportunities and I encourage everyone to make friendly business with the travellers.”

“friendly business”, Kora thought. Normally there would be half a dozen small merchant ships, but when she thought about the lights in the sky the other night it looked like there was a bigger ship this time. More space for products, she shrugged and made her way out of the crowd as they were starting to announce all the new couples.

The air felt fresher and besides trying to not get the bags full of their goodies soaking wet, the water was something no one found irritating. Taking hurried steps towards the landing field Kora identified Maya waving at her from across, at a tent from the scavenger men who were something like police for the town, only way less official. Kora told herself the low humming she she heard was just her head anticipating the ships, as she thought it’d still be a bit until anyone would try landing. The field was big, when Kora arrived at the tent her drapings were wet and clinging to her skin, a funny feeling but not uncomfortable as it was not at all cold even though the sun was behind clouds now.

Chairs were set and you could almost think there was a festival going on from the look of some of the guys.

“Beer? It’s warm but it’s still good”, the guy next to Maya offered Kora a drink. She politely declined as she set down her stuff. “Made new friends? “, Kora asked Maya who seemed to be enjoying her drink and playing against the other guys in some foreign board game.

"Old ones, actually. Remember when I was sentenced to townwork because my behaviour needed 'disciplining?’ ”, Maya made weird faces when saying the words *behaviour* and *disciplining*. And no wonder she still wasn’t convinced her behaviour was too much sometimes. Kora thought that with these guys rules were bendable, you’d just have to prove yourself as a cool person.

Just as Kora was starting to get basics of the game, a faint metal surring yanked everyone’s attention back to the sky. People were hurrying around and making room, the rain had soaked everything and even though the water brought optimism, it clung and seeped everywhere even if it wasn’t as welcomed as it was for the desert people.

The mayor had made his way to the large field quickly after the announcements, the formal wear of dark cloth already wet from being outside a few minutes.

And that is when a large metal object burst through the dense rainclouds, the surring getting ever louder. The citizens were gathered and watching, many were overjoyed at the sight of what was expected to be a merchant spaceship. Only that it definitely didn’t look like just a merchant spaceship. It was big and looked sleek, landing in just a few seconds and blowing air and water everywhere, towering over the desert people shielding themselves from the impact of the vessel by just their arms and hands.

The governor wiped his hands on his clothes nervously and stepped to the front of the foreign ship. He was waiting to welcome the visitors, the people had quieted down and watched the ship.

A good thirty seconds went by before the ramp of the ship was finally lowered. The governor held his position and the people fell silent.

Suddenly a door slid open and figures stormed out, their faces obscured by helmets, seeming to know just what they were there for. Kora looked at Maya frozen still by watching what was unfolding in front of them.

“Just run. Now.”, she whispered at Maya.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Reader x Vanderwood - Good to be Home

Title: Good to be Home

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Character: Vanderwood

Genre: ;)

Warnings: it smecci

Kinks: PHONE SEX, dirty talk, masturbation, vibrator, edging, dont worry theres actual sex in here, standing sex, daddy/babygirl (name calling)

Intended Gender Audience: Female Audience 

Word Count: 2000 words

Requested by: Anon!

Quote: Smut quote “You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”

Shameless self-promo: check out my blog here!  

Other comments: DAMN i been thirsting for some vanderwood smut lately ngl and i was really happy when i saw this request~ 11/10 for this motivation image – I did have to edit the prompt a bit to make it fit! also, posting it a few hours early because i have to sleep early! hope you enjoy~

You are about to wash some dishes when an unknown number calls your cell. This is not something uncommon. Seeing as Vanderwood was on missions all the time, he was not allowed to have a personal cell number. Instead, he called you from any phone available – hence the unknown numbers. 

          After quickly taking the gloves off, you answer the call. “Vanderwood?” 

         There is a moment of silence that makes you question if it’s actually him, but then you hear the token grunt he makes before he sits down. “Hey.” His voice is low and raspy, and you’ve almost forgotten the roughness of it because he has been away for so long. “What are you doing?” 

         You pad over to the couch and sling your legs over the arm. “Nothing real–”

         “Good. Can you do something for me?” 

         It is less of a question and more of a command – you immediately sit up, thinking that something is wrong. “Are you okay?” 

         When the line goes quiet, your heart starts to thunder. 

         “Yeah, I’m fine. I have some time to myself and wanted to talk to you.”

         Exhaling slowly, you relax and rake your fingers through your hair. 

         Vanderwood laughs on the other side and you hear brief shuffling. “Did you get worried?” 

         “Well– yes! I don’t know what could happen to you while you’re out there. I just… get anxious when you do that silence thing.” 

         “Silence thing?” 

         Curling some hair around your finger, you bite your lip. “Well… sometimes you go quiet before you respond to things, and I just jump to the worst conclusions.” It feels good to get this off of your chest – you feel relieved now that you have shared it with him. 

         “You don’t have to worry about me. Alright?” 

         “Okay… What was that thing you wanted me to do?”

         You can almost hear the smirk stretching across his lips. “It’s in the bedroom. I left a surprise for you before I left. Go check it out.” 

         Now excited, you jump off the couch and make your way to your room. “Where is it?” 

         “Nightstand on my side. Top drawer. Has a big red bow on it. You really can’t miss it.” 

         Keeping the phone under your ear, you sit on the bed and open the drawer as instructed… but you are not expecting to find a hot pink vibrator with a red ribbon bow tied around the top. You pick it up, half gasping as you touch it, and then turn over the card to read the message on it. So you don’t get lonely. -V

         “Do you like it?” 

         You struggle to find your words, but then manage a weak yes. 

         “Why don’t you try it out?” He is trying to reign in his laughter. “But stay on the phone.” 

         At his comment, you completely flush. “You mean like… phone sex?” 

         “Yeah. You want to try it?” 

         Now, your heart is racing for a completely different reason. It is hard to say you are not tempted to agree, but also, you have never tried anything like this before. Still though, you lean back against his pillow and clutch the vibrator with one hand. “Are you going to tell me what to do?” 

         Vanderwood swallows hard. “Are you going to listen, baby girl?” 

         “Yes, daddy~” 

         It was too easy to not reply with the name, and you know that Vanderwood likes it. “Hhh… take your underwear off. They’re going to be soaked otherwise–”

         As fast as you can, you kick off your shorts and panties, leaving you only in your shirt and bra. As you spread your legs apart, you take the ribbon off and toss it into the corner of the room. “Okay. Now…?” 

         “Turn it to the lowest setting and rub it against your inner thighs. Don’t think about touching your pussy just yet,” he demands, his voice on edge. 

         You wonder if he’s getting off while listening to you, and just thinking about it makes your stomach flip. “Why not?” 

         “Just because I’m not there doesn’t mean I can’t edge you.” More shuffling comes through the line, but then his voice cuts through the white noise. “Be a good girl and listen to me. I’ll help you feel good.” 

         His voice drips with temptation and is completely irresistible. You want to hear him say everything, and you will gladly do it as well. So you press the round button, turning the toy on. It vibrates in your hand, and before Vanderwood can remind you what to do, you rub the head over the inside of your thighs. It’s so close to your clit, that you are tempted to disobey Vanderwood, but you decide against it. As the rubber touches your skin, it sends electric pulses to your core. 

         A moan slips from your lips, but you cover your mouth and hope that Vanderwood does not hear it. He does though, and snickers in response to it. “Aroused already? When was the last time you touched yourself?” 

         Swallowing the urge to shove the vibrator into your folds, you whimper softly. “It’s been.. a while.” 

         “A while?”

         “Since you left.” 

         You hear Vanderwood stand up. “You haven’t fucked yourself in a month?” 

         “Vanderwood! Don’t say it like that.” 

         “Turn the vibrator off.” 

         “But–”

         “Turn. It. Off.”

         Whining you push the button and turn the toy off. You let it fall from your hand and you slump down into the bed. “Well now you’re going to make me wait more?” 

         “You’re going to regret telling me that, baby girl. Turn it back on to the third setting and put it directly on your clit. But don’t grind against it, just let the vibrator do its job.” 

         This sounds like torture, but you do it anyways and press the head between your folds. The second it touches your bud, you throw your head back and moan. This setting is much stronger than the first one, and you immediately feel your muscles tense. “V-Vanderwood, please–”

         “Nuh-uh. Drag it across your cunt. Slowly.”

         “D-Daddy…”

         Vanderwood grunts. “Do it.” 

         You relent and do as you are told. The toy slides against you, and you realize that you are already more wet than you expected. It feels amazing, especially since you have not indulged in something like this in a while. Still, you wish that Vanderwood were there to do it himself. You miss his warmth and the way he drags his calloused fingers over your skin. 

         “I can’t hear you moaning. Louder.” 

         So you set the phone down and put it on speaker phone. Even though he never gave you specific permission, you grind the head against yourself, making your clit pulsate. “I–I’m going to cum–”

         Vanderwood exhales sharply. “Keep going.” 

         You put a leg up and turn on your side slightly. Muffling your moans with the pillow, you whine, praying that you’ll reach your release soon. Vanderwood licks his lips and groans. “Turn the vibrator off.” 

         “What?!” 

         “You heard me. Turn it off.”

         “But–”

         “Babygirl…”

         You’re about to cum, but you know that you’ll moan the second you do, so you turn the toy off and drop it. Your legs are shaking and your high escapes quickly. “Why did you–”

         But before you can finish your question, Vanderwood pushes the door to your bedroom and walks in. He’s holding the phone in one hand and the other is hanging loosely off of the waistband of his pants. While keeping his gaze locked with yours, Vanderwood smirks. “Hey baby girl. Miss me?” 

         His voice echoes through your phone, and he hangs up before closing the distance between you and him. Vanderwood grips your wrists and pulls you up from the bed. “V-Vanderwood! You didn’t tell me you were coming home!” 

         He smirks and catches your lips in a deep kiss. “I had to get you warmed up. It’s been too long since we did this…” Vanderwood pushes you against the frame of your canopy bed and takes a moment to remove his shirt. The hidden holsters are still strapped to his muscular arms and toned chest. He does not bother to take them off, and you aren’t really complaining because they rather turn you on. 

         You move to help him with his belt, but Vanderwood grips your hands once more and keeps you pinned down. He pushes his pants and boxer briefs down just enough so that his cock is exposed – it is erect and dripping with precum. 

         He’s been here all along, you realize. He wanted to tease me and get me ready for this. 

         “You ready?” 

         Even if you say yes, you are definitely not ready for the sensation of Vanderwood stretching you. Somehow, he is larger than you remember, and you cry out as his tip rubs against your slick walls. He grips your thigh and pulls your leg to rest over his hip, giving him more access to your cunt. 

         You don’t dare hold back this time. Moans fall from your lips as Vanderwood thrusts into you. The bed creaks, so you throw your arms over his shoulders and drag your nails across his shoulder blades. “I missed you so much…” 

         Vanderwood grinds against you, pushing himself deep into you – he hits the spot that he knows makes you go insane. “Yeah? I can tell. Your pussy is pulsating around me.” His caramel hair falls over his eyes, so you push it back quickly and smile at him. 

         “V–Vanderwood–”

         He nips the skin of your collarbone. “Yes baby girl?” 

         “Are you going to edge me again?” 

         “Hm…” Vanderwood tips his head back slightly when you clench down on him tightly. Biting his lip, he digs his fingertips into the supple flesh of your thigh. “How badly do you want to cum?” 

         You whine and arch your back against him. “Really bad…” 

         “Oh?”

         “Daddy please.” 

         Again you say that, and again Vanderwood has a hard time restraining himself. Every time the name falls from your lips, he wants to fuck you senseless – but Vanderwood swallows the fantasies and saves them for another day. He bends his head to meet your nipple, and after giving it a soft lick, he teeths on it. 

         “Say that again. I’ve missed your voice.” 

         Your mind goes blank as he grips you tightly. You have forgotten how skilled he is with his tongue – it rolls over your skin as he sucks and bites on you, marking you, teasing you. “D-Daddy!”

         “Fuck,” he groans in response. “Cum.” 

         “What?” 

         Vanderwood leans down against you and kisses the soft skin behind the back of your ear. “Cum for me.” His hand slips down to grab your ass, and he pushes you down harder onto his cock. It rubs against your most sensitive spot, and you tense before releasing – almost on command. 

         He bucks back and forth, now panting heavily, and his hair tickles your skin. Just as you feel his muscles contracting inside of you, Vanderwood pulls out and pumps himself hard. Still in a daze, you close your eyes and feel his seed paint your skin. It is warm and dribbles down your stomach. 

         As you come to it, Vanderwood presses his forehead against yours. “Damn… it’s good to be home, baby girl.” He pulls out and you slump against him. 

         “You had to do the whole fiasco to tell me that?” You laugh and pull him down for a sloppy kiss. 

         His arms wrap around your waist and he brings you flush against his chest. “Is that suggesting that you aren’t happy I’m back? Well this is awkward then.” 

         “No! Of course I’m happy you’re home–” 

         Vanderwood slaps your bare ass, making you yelp. He steps back and takes his pants and underwear off completely. “Then let’s clean up. I want to spend time with you tonight.” With that, he winks and pads off to the bathroom. 

         You lean back against bed frame and inhale slowly. 

         Damn he looks good walking away from you. 

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Hey! I am asking for advice. I fucked up a few years ago at the telling apart ghosts and gods and would rather not go through that again. Could you help me out? I really want to get back into it but that was a very bad experience so I'm anxious. Thank you!!

Anon, I love this question and if you're willing to drop some more details in my inbox, anon or not, please do. I'm sorry that you had such a bad experience, but take heart, maybe, that everybody does this at SOME point, and taking a few years off to process is actually a pretty snappy turnaround time.

(spooky occult people only pls)

(scroll along, the rest of you)

It IS a tricky question, though.

Tough love up front: there is no entirely safe, entirely pleasant way to do magic. Fundamentally magic is transformative and therefore often uncomfortable. There's fears and negative emotions to work through, and there's also just some straight up tedium and drudgery, and no matter how cool you are, no matter how sure you feel about your place in the grand scheme of the universe, you will eventually question everything and get some things wrong. There will not only always be risk: sooner or later there will be pain.

But! Is it worth it? ABSOLUTELY, anon, and I'm not gonna try to persuade you because if you're asking, you've already made up your mind. You just want to not make the same mistakes over again. You want to make brand new mistakes! It is the only way to move forward.

There is a difference between the merely uncomfortable and the truly dangerous, so ultimately it's a game of knowing when fear is a just a trial to get through versus when fear is a warning keeping you safe. The first time I tried to answer this question I made a quick list of protections, but that's not really the issue. You're wiser than that. You're asking about something diagnostic.

Discernment is the greatest occult skill and one that’s difficult to quantify. It's one of those paradoxes of inexperience, nigh impossible to hone without practice, yet a skill you need in order to get out there and practice.

whatever your prior experience was: what did you learn from it? what was the point where you started to feel something went wrong? identifying that moment, how it felt, how you felt it, will help you more than anything I or anyone else can tell you.

I am, honestly, not the best person to describe how to increase your psychic sensitivity or whatever. The good news, maybe, is that you don't have to be great at discernment before you start. Yes, you can put all your effort into sharpening your senses before you even go out there, which is a noble way of doing it and maybe it will eventually even work, OR—you can put on some safety gear and wade out into the swamp wearing your little floaties so that you don't sink.

Your metaphorical swimming wings here are protections and banishments and the preemptive assistance of something bigger than you on your side. This answer is mostly going to focus on that last part, because "ghosts and gods" implies, I think, that you are ready to work with gods, or at least eager, which is, like, at least half of the process.

However, even then, I do wanna say—while I don't want to discount your negative experiences at all! I don't know anything about them, but I'm sure it was awful!—you, all by yourself, can probably banish most ghostly things you're likely to run into. There's a lotta bark, and usually not that much bite. I wrote up some less formal banishing methods and posted them here on ye old witch blogge, but really, you can mostly just yell at stuff to leave.

(there is a fair amount of repetition between this post and that one! I apologize. I mostly typed these late at night over the course of several days)

Now! Assistance. An ounce of prevention vs a pound of cure and it’s good to pack light.

So much of magic across time and cultures is about negotiating with spirits of some flavor or another. Maybe it's worship or maybe it's bindings or maybe it's strictly transactional, but as beings made of flesh we are forever making pacts with beings made of something else, and hey, it usually works.

The complication here is that the distinction between ghosts and gods maybe isn't that simple. Mess with the wording a little and Catholic saints are basically both. And so are some orisha, some loa, and so on. Baron Samedi (lord of the cemetery, best bang since the big one, etc etc etc) in particular, out of the vodou pantheon, may or may not have been human once, depending on who you ask.

Further: the most readily available spooky occult forces you have are your ancestors. So you'd file that under ghosts, maybe, except that with ancestral veneration practices and all, we inch closer to god territory, in a sense. At least—the rituals start looking the same from an outside perspective. Santeria, Vodou, Epiritismo and many more practices that the ones I'm familiar with involve working with your ancestors to accomplish your worldly goals. We don't consider them ghosts when we work with them; that's not the word we use. But arguably—why not?

So the trick here isn't necessarily how to sort ghosts from gods as much as it is to hang out with some NICE (to you) ghosts and/or gods.

How do you do that?

If you have a good relationship with your ancestors, then you start there. If you, like me, or lots of other long disowned and disinherited magicians, have a disconnect there, then—welp. Consider getting over it by going back further in the family tree (this is what you will inevitably eventually do). Somewhere in there you have someone kind, I promise. But that's not advice I could have followed ten years ago, so I'll get to the alternative in a minute. Let's assume, for the moment, that you accept the logic that your ancestors have a vested interest in protecting their line, and in fact having an active magic user willing to work with them probably makes their afterlives much easier.

There's tons of guides online about how to work with your ancestors. I think sincere, unstructured prayer and a glass of water are the simplest and most powerful of offerings. A candle, if you have one. Just flipping on a lamp or a light switch if you don't.

(I travel with a little LED tealight and a mala made of skull beads carved from ox bone, but I am unnecessarily spooky and dramatic. If anything, my ancestors prefer the plain obsidian mala I first started with. But the aesthetic.)

I'm very, very informal in my ancestral practice. It still works.

Tell them you want to establish a working connection, talk to them about what's going on in your life. Keep it short and don't worry about whether or not you feel anything yet. It might take weeks before you feel something, and that's okay—discernment is, like I've said, the most important but also hardest skill, and it usually takes time and repetition. Offer them something—anything, really, and honestly the plain glass of water is traditional—and ask for their protection. They will almost certainly give it to you.

"But Flowers," you might say. "Fuck that and fuck 'em. I'm not ready to fuck with my family yet."

Alright, little one! I feel ya. It took me ages to warm up to the idea. I promise that it's worth it when you're ready, but having covered ghosts, let's move on to

GODS

Step one: ask yourself if you need to fuck around with gods in the first place.

Step two: fuck around and find out.

Step three varies depending on who you're looking for. There is a great deal of anxiety about this in occult circles, especially among people who use the term "baby witch." People are terrified of making the wrong choice. They want it to be PERFECT. They want to be correct. "Who is calling me?" ask a thousand seekers, across forums and places. "I saw a butterfly the other day. IS IT A SIGN?"

(shit, dude, I dunno, probably not, but potentially maybe. Nobody can know but you. just keep in mind that butterflies etc exist on their own and go around doing their own thing and this has absolutely nothing to do with you the vast majority of the time)

You don't need to be wait to be called by a god to offer worship and/or develop a working relationship. I would argue that most people aren't really called, and if you are, you will KNOW. Tumblr likes to say gods need consent and I think that's fucking hilarious. There is no folkloric precedent for that. If you are Called, capital letter Called, you will know, and whatever happens next is between you whatever bizarre shamanic experience you end up having, because you WILL have it, good luck.

But probably that's not the issue here! Moving on with our hypothetical.

You're not waiting around for divine intervention. You're being proactive. You're not waiting for The Call, or even a mild call. How do you choose what god you're petitioning for protection? I doubt you're entirely neutral about it. You probably have a god you identify with or just find really friggin cool. That's a fine and dandy place to start.

The working relationship need not be forever.

Which brings me to my next point. If you are absolutely undecided about what direction to go in, consider going to one of the liminal gods. Your crossroads gods, your messenger gods, often trickster gods. Your between spaces gods. Your portal opening gods.

In Santeria and Vodou, which I keep on referring back to because those are the systems I was raised in, your messenger gods get called very early on in the ritual. Why? To open the way for everybody else. There's a suggestion here that certain gods are closer or more easily reached, so if you want an opener—ask somebody with keys, yeah?

(also technically there's spirits called before then like the rhythm/dance/drums but let's not complicate things. Broadly speaking: key holding gods first)

Catholic saints wise, you've got Saint Peter, right? Santeria has Elegua. Vodou has Legba. Vodou also has the Baron as a crossroads god and yer liminal spaces god and sometimes he also has keys and hey by the way, he's really great, but where was I?

Hermes is another option. Mercury.

There's a bunch of American indigenous options I don't know enough about to confidently say.

SPEAKING of indigenous american, right, there's always Quetzalcoatl—technically—sky god, wind god, messenger god.

There's Odin and I'm actually a big fan, but the Norse magic community is often kind of garbage these days because we've got too many nazis running around, which is a shame.

My point is: there's gonna be somebody who feels close, either because of your cultural background or your aesthetic, and you might as well ask.

Settle down. Call their name. Offer water and a prayer and ask for protection, tell them what it is you want to do, ask for their help on this new life journey.

Worship isn't really complicated unless you want it to be.

Again, don't worry about "feeling" anything. Don't expect anything dramatic. Just offer something, every day or every week or whenever you have the time and headspace for it. Do the motions and mean it even a little bit and with time the rest shall come.

Because EVENTUALLY, you will feel something. It will probably be a mild sense of peace. The ritual feels calming. Something about it feels cozy. Presence is often subtle, but that counts.

Once you feel solidly good about your ritual, I would say that means you have at least some degree of protection, and it's time to wade around the swamp and see what's up. What do you do next? I dunno! I don't know what your goals are! But you have your ancestors at your back, or you're on a god team, or maybe BOTH—go explore!

Confidence isn't everything. But confidence, my friend, is a LOT. There's more to it, of course, but especially early on: fake it till you make it and dream it and you'll be it.

Best of luck, anon. <3

[prettywordsyouleft]

Identity

Summary: You had been an angel since your creation. When you fell in love with Jinyoung, a demon, you hadn’t thought it would be that hard to follow him wherever he went – even to the fiery depths of Hell. Becoming one of the Fallen was much different than you had expected, and finding who you were now was important.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: demon au / fluff(ish)

A/N: requested by anon. I found your request fitted in well with the happenings of my demon world I already had created, so this is a follow up to Sacrifice, Jinyoung’s story in the King of Demons series. Although this idea isn’t as dark as perhaps you were looking for anon, I hope you enjoy it all the same.

This story belongs in the King of Demons realm and you can find the stories in this series here

King of Demons series: Havoc // King of Demons // Unfathomable // Sacrifice // King of Demons: The Return // In The Night // Identity // Prophecy // Someone // The Devil Contained // The Monsters Witch

Word count: 1860

Your fall from piety had taken a lot more to get used to than you thought it would. It wasn’t just the difference in temperature, although the heat had definitely been a little burdensome in the beginning. You were an angel who had fallen in love with a demon. And even though Jinyoung had done everything in his power, even going as far to erase your memory of him, to keep you as the beautiful angel you had been, your heart belonged to him. You were prepared to give up everything for him, and when the time came for Jinyoung to return to his homeland, you hadn’t second-guessed the sacrifice you would need to give in order to follow him.

“I don’t want you to lose your wings like I did, it’s not easy, Y/N,” he warned you, yet he held you close in his arms, his body not wanting to let you go like his words were attempting to. “You have always been an angel; it was what you were created to be.”

“As were you.”

Jinyoung chuckled softly. “No darling, I was always suited to be a demon. I like the fires, the warmth of Hell. You have no idea what you’re stepping into if you follow me. You can’t take it back. The Heavens will brand you a traitor and you will be banished to Sheol for the rest of your existence.”

“I’m already a traitor for not giving the Gods the information on you, am I not?”

“Yes, but-”

“Jinyoung, I can’t lose you. Fallen angel or not, if I have you at my side, I can do anything.”

Your confidence waned when you actually became one of the Fallen. Jinyoung had been right, your identity was an Angel of Truth, and whilst you still felt the same person within, there was something inherently missing from you now. In Hell, you had no role, no place which was made for just you. Of course, you had been very welcomed. As the Prince of Sheol, Jinyoung had announced you as his bride and everyone accepted you as that. You knew some of the entities there already and you weren’t ever lonely. But you didn’t have an identity passed what Jinyoung had given you. You didn’t want to just spend your life following him around, smiling now and then and being a puppet bride. It wasn’t what you wanted for yourself. You craved something of your own.

“You know you can do anything right? I’ll support whatever you want to do,” Jinyoung told you one night, your unspoken worries easily reaching his mind. He knew you too well despite your love existing for only a mere year so far. “You are capable of so much, Y/N. Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.”

“Can’t I earn my place instead?” you asked and Jinyoung blinked. “I know I’m your bride and since you’re the Prince of Sheol, I don’t really have to do anything, but I’d like to. I want to help make this place better and remain as fair as you envision it to be. This is my home now too.”

“Do you want me to help you find a position then?”

You shook your head adamantly. “Let me try for myself.”

The very next day, you approached Jackson at Purgatory, smiling brightly up at him. “Y/N! What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Can I work here today? I’m looking to find my place,” you told him and the demon frowned.

“In Purgatory… you want to work here?”

You nodded. “Of course! I want to learn all about Sheol and its jurisdictions.”

“It’s not an easy job, there’s a lot of suffering that happens here. We have to make sure every entity is trialled fairly. There are a lot of steps in where you decide to place someone. Sometimes they stay here, others will move onto Silence or Torment depending on their sins. Are you sure someone as sweet as you could handle this type of work?”

“At least let me try,” you pleaded and with a sigh, Jackson nodded.

Jackson had been right in his warning. Initially, you had taken on his advice, walking alongside him as he scanned the area slowly. There were so many people and they were all doing so many different things. You admired his ability to know what everyone was doing, yelling out in the middle of his explanations at specific people to get back in line. It was impressive and you aspired to match his tenacity.

But you just weren’t cut out for the work. “Y/N, you’re an Angel of Truth. Yet you didn’t pick up that man was lying through his teeth. He pulled at your heartstrings.”

“I was an angel,” you correctly softly, your mood plummeting. You had known the man wasn’t telling you everything, yet his tears had rendered you speechless. You wanted to help him out and that was why you almost passed him until Jackson grabbed him by the collar, smiled wickedly and said to an official to take him off to Silence. You didn’t have the heart to be firm when you were struggling in your current weakened state. Thanking Jackson for his time, you trudged back to your chambers where you slumped down into a chair heavily.

“What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asked, looking up from his papers he was reviewing. Jaebum and Jinyoung had just spent two days strategising for a new district in Sheol to help lessen some of the volume of inhabitants there were in other areas. You knew he was busy and tried to smile at him instead. He didn’t buy it, merely rearranged his glasses on his face. “Baby, I worked alongside you for months on end, I know that face well. Did you not have a good time in Purgatory?”

“I almost passed someone because they played on my good will.”

“You are too kind-hearted for that line of work,” he mentioned pointedly. His words held no comfort, but you knew Jinyoung to be logical when giving advice. “Have you thought about talking with Demi? She works in running messengers around Sheol. That could be fun for you.”

You perked up. “I’ll go talk to her tomorrow!”

Again, much like with Jackson, you had given it your best. But what Demi had in skill as a half-demon, you lacked now that you had lost your powers along with your wings. You weren’t fast enough and a goblin managed to pass on your message to your client before you could. You then tried with BamBam, Sheol’s gatekeeper, but you opened the wrong gate and let out a rampage of wild ogres that took two days to finally put back where they belonged. Youngjae had invited you to help him look after all the creatures of Sheol. As an animal lover, you had thought you finally found your calling. You didn’t want to be judgmental as you had been taught to find beauty in everything, yet you had been entirely frightened by a monster he named Smoosh, that had far too many eyes and leapt at you in a menacing way. You were too scared to close your eyes that night in case you had nightmares. Finally, you had broken one of Yugyeom’s trinkets in a vision that he had before you could even start working for him, and so Mal had to tell you to leave before Yugyeom had another rage about it. With Jaebum’s lover away on Earth, her role wasn’t even open to learn from, and Mark was Jaebum’s right-hand man. You were out of options, and your heart hurt.

“Baby, did you do this?” Jinyoung asked that evening, and you didn’t even look up from the chair you slouched upon, not wanting to be scolded for cleaning up his study when he was out. Glaring at the wall in front of you, you remained unmoving. Your husband stepped into your view and held up a file. “Did you organise this?”

“Scold me if you want to, I’m too tired to care.”

“Why would I scold you? This is excellent!”

You glanced up at him and sat straight in your chair. “…it is?”

“I didn’t realise how badly the organisation was of my files. This makes everything so clean and accessible. Thank you!”

“I did something right?” you wondered and Jinyoung nodded, soon smiling sheepishly. “What?”

“You wouldn’t hate doing the other files, would you?” You shook your head quickly, jumping out of your chair. Jinyoung chuckled and held out an arm to prevent you from leaving the room. “Tomorrow, there’s no rush.”

It started with reorganising his files in the cabinet, and then you moved onto the land surveys. After that was the ancient texts, and you had spent a lot of time reading as well as cleaning. Soon you were knowledgeable about the past and present of Hell. Jaebum had been impressed over dinner when you mentioned about a pocket of land free for use that you had seen on a map earlier in the day, and Jinyoung beamed at you proudly.

“Tomorrow, you don’t have to work in my study anymore,” he told you as you got ready for bed. You glanced up at Jinyoung, a pout forming on your lips. He smiled warmly, reaching over to pluck your pout away. “You have an official position now. My brother was really impressed tonight.”

“He was?”

Jinyoung nodded. “He wants you to work in my office. Do you think you can handle that? I know you wanted to find your own identity without my help, but I think you found your calling. As a strategist, I know you could benefit my plans greatly.”

“We used to work together up in Heaven,” you said slowly, thinking over what he said. “I never had a problem doing so either.”

“So why did you shun away from me when you got here?” he wondered and you let out a heavy breath. “Was I too much in the beginning?”

“You knew who you were. You had your place here set in stone, and everyone didn’t second-guess it. I was a newcomer and I had nothing to me but my name.”

Jinyoung stopped unbuttoning his shirt and cupped your face within his hands. “You have always had more than just your name. I’m sorry I needlessly worried you when I told you losing your wings would be hard. I didn’t fall in love with you because you were an angel though. Just like none of our friends here see you as incapable because you weren’t created for this realm. You had your abilities all along. Why do you think I loved working with you up in Heaven? Youngjae was absolutely useless most days, you kept us running efficiently. It’s something I love about you.”

“Okay, stop there or I’ll start crying,” you warned and you felt his chest vibrate with laughter as he pulled you into an embrace. “I needed to find myself again.”

“You did. And have you?”

“All thanks to you,” you told him and Jinyoung pulled back, shaking his head.

“It was all you.”

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