#even though the community is really small

[messrsrarchives]

okay big talk time. in light of the UK Supreme Court ruling, i'm seeing a lot of posts about fandom spaces. i woke up to see a tiktok that says "if you write fanfic, there's blood on your hands too",,, so let's talk about it.

because there is no refuting that fandom spaces keep JKR relevant. there is no refuting that by producing any kind of media based on this franchise, we are engaging with her and we are keeping her universe relevant. we cannot deny that.

we often see people turn around and say "jkr would hateee what we write!" and that's true. that's so very true, but it isn't enough. your headcanons and your stories and your art Are Not Enough. particularly over on tiktok: if you post HP content over on that platform, you are promoting JKR. my existence in this space as a trans man is NOT an act of protest. everything else i do is, so what do we do about that?

we NEED to be talking about these things. about jkr, about her money, about her actions, about the bigotry in the source material, and if you are not in a position where you can have those conversations, then you need to be listening. because engagement with jkr is infact life of death.

and we carry that guilt. we do, of course we do. if you are somebody who hasn't yet been able to let go of this series like me, then we carry that guilt. even more so if you are a member of any of the communities that jkr has harmed - the guilt is heavy.

but,,, let me make one thing clear: this is not your guilt.

if you are not profiting her. directly, then you are carrying guilt that is not yours to carry. that guilt is hers to bear, and the lives we are about to lose are on her conscious. we have been forced, time and time again, to carry the weight of her bigotry.

but,,, we're carrying it. and i think there's a certain amount of guilt that makes us better. i think there's a certain amount of guilt that makes us more conscious human beings, and that makes us more receptive to these discussions.

you can use that guilt, you really can. you can talk. you can listen. you can educate. you can step away if the guilt gets too much. you can use that guilt for something good.

do NOT push it away. whilst it isn't ours to carry, we are not in a position where we can throw that guilt away and wash our hands of it - we are here, we are engaging, we have to accept that. if we simply pretend as though we are not, then all we do is cause harm.

because fandom spaces can do a lot of good, especially for those that jkr has harmed. fandom spaces can do so much good, but only if we are conscious of the ways in which we are engaging, and we are willing to sit and have these difficult conversations.

if i were not in the position i am in now, i would leave. i would leave this fandom space and at this point? i am in fact urging those of you are able to, to go. for your own sakes and the sakes of everyone around you.

but as someone who has been having conversations about JKR for ages? i am in no position to step back. i'm in no position to turn away and give up. not when there are so many people who benefit from these discussions and who benefit from safe spaces.

and the reason it's a safe space? it's because I Talk. because i Have These Discussions. and no matter how much i do, i am still promoting her when i go on to post a headcanon or update my fics. i am still promoting her when i engage in this space.

and there's still guilt.

don't chuck that guilt aside, let it fuel you in making safe spaces safe again.

there is absolutely no refuting that by being in this space we are causing harm. so if you are not in a position to leave this space, here's some things you can do to make it easier for everyone both in and out of it:

Listen. if you are not in a position to talk about JKR, then actively listen. actively listen, understand, process, and adapt.

Merchandise: stop posting your merch, secondhand or not. you know that you get comments asking "where did you get this!?", stop posting it. makes that small adjustment for wider good

Keep educated: on the bigotry in the books so that you aren't perpetuating it, on jkr's actions, on politics. keep educated as much as you can to make sure that you are not unwillingly causing harm in what you are doing

Block: block those who are going to the studios, who are posting merch, who are talking about the reboot, who are doing ANYTHING to support her. if you see a video? comment on it. the continued relevance of people in this space who have supported a bigot is Immense. do not allow for complacency - bigotry is bigotry no matter how many views it gets you.

and above all, hold that guilt. hold it. feel it. utilise it.

and if you are in a position where you can leave this space? then i encourage you to do so. i encourage you to Move On, and find new ventures. i encourage you to do that if you can. and if you can't, then i'll still be here to guide you through it all and keep having these difficult talks.

[supervisormeero]

Okay, time to put together a list of small things about that clip that I love because I've watched it so many times that it's burned into my brain

Syril looks Dedra up and down when he steps through the door. There are multiple ways to interpret this, and all of them are incredible. One, he's down bad. Two, he likes her outfits and wants to admire what she's wearing. Three, it's both. It's probably both.

Dedra turns her head here. I'm about 98% sure she was going for an actual kiss before The Galaxy's Biggest Idiot just. Fled. Straight into the apartment. Left her standing there. SYRIL YOUR DIPSHITTERY IS UNFATHOMABLE WHAT ARE YOU DOING—

Dedra's little shrug after she says she had Syril followed. "Partagaz insisted." Did Partagaz really insist, or is she trying to pass blame because he's not reacting the way she thought he would? Her shrug is so silly, too; it's done in such a Dedra way, although we haven't seen something like this from her before. It's the nonverbal equivalent of saying, "You're mad at me? The one person who's never done anything wrong, ever? Okay, then it wasn't even my fault."

Also notable is that Syril calls bullshit on it, too, because he says, "I can't believe you had me followed." He knows the Partagaz thing was a rushed white lie, and he knows her well enough to see it.

Syril's reaction to being told they have an hour. Regardless of what the context here is, he wants more time with her. He actually seems upset that he doesn't have more time with her; was he hoping to spend the night? Has he regularly spent longer than an hour with her? (There are mild spoilers about this elsewhere on the Internet, but I'm being vague for the sake of not giving anything away for those who haven't read them.)

Dedra's head-tilt when Syril asks if they really only have an hour. It's so Dedra. It's so raised-eyebrow in the ISB boardroom. It's so... Have you ever known me to joke, Syril. It implies a level of intimacy that they communicate so easily without words; he knows her well enough to understand what she's saying, even when she's not saying it, and even when it's not what he wants to hear.

Dedra's expressions when she tells him to turn out the lights. The first time, she's a bit awkward; she doesn't look at him directly, she seems unsteady, there's a sense that she... isn't used to all of this, and maybe isn't totally sure how to ask for what she wants in a non-work context. The second time, though, she's more forward. She stares him down, repeats herself firmly, leaves no room for further discussion of the you-had-me-followed topic. (Shut up, Syril.) There is a power dynamic here, and I'll be interested to see how that plays out. She wants him to do what she wants, and he's not doing it, and she did not get dressed up like this to argue with him.

Syril's expression after Dedra tells him to turn out the lights. Like, he's still irritated about her having him followed, but he softens; he... cares about her at least, but this definitely might possibly be love in spite of the weird power dynamic in which he decidedly does not have the upper hand, at least on paper, and I am fine and not crying about it

On power dynamics, though, I find it interesting that Dedra stood in the hallway after Syril walked away. Syril left her there. She followed him into the apartment. She was either 1. Taking a moment to internally scream because he's so SO stupid and didn't kiss her on the mouth, or 2. Left sort of winded by him kissing her, even just on the cheek, or 3. Wanted to admire the view of him walking away.

If you read too much into it, which I probably am, it could imply that Syril has more power over her than he thinks, or than either of them acknowledge. After all, she's giving all the orders, but she's also following him into her own home.

This is not a small thing but I'm going insane about it so I'm going to yell about it for the millionth time. THE BED BEING SO PROMINENT IN THESE SHOTS. TONY GILROY YOU ARE A GENIUS TONY GILROY YOU ARE A MADMAN. TONY GILROY YOU REALLY SAID THIS IS FOR THE KEEROS

[muzetrigger]

Pluto and “The Black Cat”

I guess it takes a community event for me to actually write out that Pluto post I've been planning for *checks notes* 2 months.

So, let's talk about Pluto (finally)!

By the way, spoilers, so if you're not into that:

We're first introduced to Pluto during the Maze arc, where he's unceremoniously dumped on Duke and Lenore by the Posh Crew, which also includes his roommate Prospero.

At first, it's easy to write Pluto off as kind of an emo soft boi. And in fact, Duke even tries to ditch him during the Acrophobia Trial.

It's not hard to see why. Aesthetically, Pluto has a much darker presentation than the rest of the cast which gives him the impression of a gloomy introvert that won't really contribute anything to the team. He wears a grey turtleneck instead of a white dress shirt marks him as a visual outcast; his slouching posture projects a lack of confidence; and his eye covering bangs actually do a lot of work to make him appear less communicative (windows to the soul, right?).

On top of that, Pluto's pretty small, a trait emphasized by his overly large jacket, which unlike other students, doesn't seem to be tailored to him, and his prickly personality don't earn him any teamwork points. I mean, just look at him:

The point being, Pluto isn't exactly the image of confidence that Duke and Lenore need to help muscle through the maze.

That being said, like most great characters, Pluto almost immediately shows he has a lot more going for him than first impressions.

One thing that readers might have noticed is that because Pluto is pretty small and unassuming, he's great at sneaking around.

But since it's mostly played as a gag many people might have also missed this detail right after:

Pluto stepping on a branch isn't mindbogglingly important, but it does speak to his character in a really touching way. He immediately recognizes that his silence upsets Duke and Lenore and goes out of his way to make noise so they aren't startled by him, even though they really haven't been the nicest to him.

It's a small detail, but it shows that right from the beginning, Pluto is someone who cares about other people, which is further reinforced when he tries to break up Duke and Lenore during Duke's inconceived attempt to awaken Lenore's spectre:

The maze also highlights a few of Pluto's other positive traits. For example, he's surprisingly interested in etymology (what a dork; I love him), which gives Red an easy way to explain the Greek/Latin roots to the readers while also playing up Pluto's allusion to the Roman god. It also indicates that Pluto is fairly book smart, which is directly contrasted by Duke's street smarts in the Chronophobia trial and Lenore's... instinct? Let's call it intuition.

We also get a bit of foreshadowing for Pluto's spectre. One, he's actually pretty dextrous on a tightrope, and two, he can't swim, both of which are traits stereotypically associated with cats.

Speaking of which, Pluto's spectre:

According to Poppet, Pluto is a Crytid, a type of Spectre that manifests when someone had a deep-seated desire to escape social constraints, but somewhat paradoxically, Pluto is a cat, a domesticated creature.

I'm going to take a small aside to say that cats really aren't that domesticated. I mean yes, who doesn't love tea cup kittens, but cats can return to the wild and they still share most of their genetic code and evolutionary instincts with their untamed counterparts, which can't really be said about dogs.

Okay, back to Nevermore, except I lied, we're actually going back to 1845 when Edgar Allan Poe published "The Black Cat".

If you didn't know (but you probably did. After all, you're reading a Nevermore character analysis), almost every Nevermore character is based on one or more works by EAP. (You can check out their main inspirations in this other post.)

And Pluto's story is "The Black Cat". It isn't one of Poe's most famous works, so you could be forgiven for not knowing about it, but if you have read it, you probably immediately recognized its influence on Pluto.

First, a brief overview of the story: (CW: animal abuse)

Like most Poe short stories, "The Black Cat" is narrated by an insane murderer (that's a tad hyperbolic, but you get the point). Unlike other narrators though, this narrator actually started out somewhat decent.

You see, the narrator used to be a loving husband to a woman that he married early in life. Both of them loved animals, so over the years, they cared for a lot of pets together, including "birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat."

This cat is, of course, the titular Black Cat and his name is Pluto. He's also described as being the narrator's "favorite pet and playmate."

Unfortunately, the narrator is also an alcoholic, and his addiction gradually turns him from a loving and sensitive man into a violent mess. He's able to stave off his alcohol fueled abuse from Pluto for several years, but eventually, Pluto ticks him off and he grabs the cat and purposefully cuts out one of its eyes with a penknife.

Understandably, Pluto (the cat) does not take kindly to this, and for the rest of its life tries to avoid the narrator, which the narrator takes surprisingly well.

At first.

Eventually, his alcoholism catches up with him and he decides that, for literally "no other reason than because he knows he should not" decides to hang the cat.

So, there are a ton of references to the short story in Nevermore. Pluto's dad is a physically abusive drunk who cuts out Pluto's eye, Pluto's name and spectre are inspired by the Black Cat, and the way Pluto unlocks his spectre mirrors how the narrator hangs his pet.

But there are arguably lot more allusions from the rest of the story. You see right after the narrator kills Pluto, his house burns down and there are two characters in Nevermore who are associated with fire:

Lenore and Monty, both of whom have a pretty interesting relationship with Pluto, especially when you line them up with Pluto's short story.

If you associate the narrator's house burning down as karmic retribution, then Lenore is a natural pick. After all, she not only burns down her estate, her presence in Pluto's (after)life is arguably what causes him to start standing up for himself more, and at the very least, her leadership is what gets him through maze for a shot at the second life which dovetails nicely with the fallout of the narrator's house burning.

You see, the narrator doesn't perish along with his material possessions, but one wall of his house also survives, and burned into that wall is the image of a hanging cat, a reminder of his sins.

Soon after, the narrator, still drowning his sorrows and guilt at bars, happens upon a second cat who is "fully as large as Pluto, and closely resembling him in every aspect but one." It's even missing an eye. The only thing that separates it from Pluto is a patch of white hair on its chest.

Now the concept of doubling is one of Poe's hallmarks, and it's mirrored wonderfully in Nevermore by the students' past lives and their current unlife as students, or alternatively, their human form and their spectre form, but it's also symbolically present for Pluto because by leading him out of the maze, Lenore also leads Pluto on the path to a second life in addition to inspiring him to be more confident, which is arguably the difference between his past and current self.

Based on Pluto's memories, it doesn't seem like his father thought of him as a "man" and given his character introduction, Pluto was a meek person. But after meeting Lenore and befriending Duke, Pluto does this:

One, it's hilarious that Pluto is talking about taking eyes, but two, Pluto is fully ready to kill Monty here and that leads me to part two of the fire.

Monty is a self destructive individual. He purposefully instigates fights, loves to stir up trouble for no reason, and suffers from trauma that arguably isn't his fault (not to say that dealing with that trauma isn't his responsibility).

In some ways, he's haunted by his religious upbringing as much as the narrator of "The Black Cat" is by his alcoholism. Both are aware of how much it ruins their lives, but they can't help leaning into those violent tendencies. The narrator even calls his alcoholism a "fiend".

And, they both wall up someone they're rooming with.

Because, there's even more to the new black cat than driving the narrator insane. In fact, the narrator goes as far as murdering his wife while attempting to kill the new Pluto (I can't believe she stuck around, the poor woman).

And like any Poe narrator worth his salt, "The Black Cat" narrator decides to hide the body by walling her up in a false chimney. This comes with the added benefit of scaring the new black cat away so the narrator can finally enjoy some piece and quiet.

Only it turns out this is a lie. Just like Monty narrowly avoiding Pluto's gunshot, the Black Cat's absence turns out to be the narrator's undoing because the narrator accidently walled up the cat with his wife's corpse, and it's the cat's screeching that ultimately unmasks his crimes.

Similarly, it's Pluto's belief in Duke that activates Duke's spectre, "freeing a corpse" and leading to the much needed string of chapters where everyone dunks on Monty. (Thank you, Pluto.)

I think it's really neat that Red managed to blend multiple Poe stories into a new plot thread, and I'm really looking forward to seeing what she and Flynn have in store with Pluto because even though his inspiration story has been pretty much fully acted out, most of spectre abilities really haven't been explored.

For instance, while "unlucky" is a general description of black cats, Pluto's presence has actually been a major boon for the misfits, saving Duke, explaining the thalassophobia trial in the maze, guiding Lenore and Duke through Acrophobia, and also warning Lenore and defending her during the Manor arc. Maybe it's bad luck for his enemies or straight up luck manipulation?

"Blink" could be a reference to Pluto's dash attack, but Pluto also has an uncanny ability to disappear from people's perception as demonstrated during the maze and to a lesser extent when he hides from Eulalie in the forbidden wing.

For those of us into TTRPGs, blink is also sometimes used to refer to teleporting or the DnD spell of the same name with causes the caster to fade in and out of existence!

And finally, "evil eye" is a very intriguing ability. While it could just be a reference to Pluto's missing/remaining eye, as @takescrackseriously and other readers have pointed out, it could also be a reference to Poe's "Telltale Heart" maybe having the ability to drive victims mad, like Pluto's namesake (er, reincarnation?) does in "The Black Cat".

That brings up another question, which is why is Pluto still missing his eye? Lenore was also seriously injured in life, but she isn't crippled like she was post-Theo as a student. What injuries get to be healed and which remain in Nevermore?

I'm interested to see if, like Will's freaky blood wax clones, spectres' powers can develop and how far they can develop. After all, Pluto's power set seems fairly basic, and while I love underdogs (undercats?), ostensibly there's some kind of balancing system that makes traits like "blink" and "teeth" keep up with monsters like "fear itself" and "divine light".

Okay, maybe not given the ruthless nature of the academy and the Raven's comments, but narratively that can feel a bit unsatisfying, y'know? Because it would be such a waste for Pluto's development to stall here despite the amazing amount of progress he's already made.

Plus, aesthetically, I'm willing to bet Flynn is going to incorporate more white into Pluto's character design, because a considerable amount of detail focuses on this one difference between Pluto and the new cat in the short story. In fact, it seems to be one of the factors in the narrator's full descent into madness because he starts seeing the cat's white patch as morphing into the image of a noose.

And to close out this really lengthy post on a bright note, have some terrified Pluto:

What a cutie. We must protect him at all costs.

By the way, if you enjoyed my rambling, here are links to similar theory/analysis posts talking about Ada and Annabel!

[doliacuddles]

Can you do general romantic relationship hcs for Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel with gn! reader?

Hello! Thank you so much for being my first request on Tumblr, I'm really excited to start with this. Previously, I wrote a headcanon about what Lucifer would be like in a relationship, and for your request, I decided to approach it with a softer, fluffier tone.

Sometimes, he watches you as if he’s still struggling to accept that you exist, as if you’re something too precious to be real. His gaze doesn’t waver; it stays fixed, serene, yet filled with a silent intensity, that kind of glow that only those who have spent too long in absence, in emptiness, can have. And if you ask him in that moment what he’s thinking, he answers with a calm that sends a shiver down your spine: “How deeply lucky I am to have you in my life.”

Sharing his life with you has made him reshape his own. Before, the days drifted by without form or weight, barely distinguishable from one another. Now, he looks forward to Wednesdays with purpose: he knows that’s the day you make that breakfast he loves so much. He forces himself to remember it, not out of routine, but because he wants you to know that he cares, that he listens, even though his mind sometimes strays into the corners of the past. And when he falters, when something slips through his grasp, he doesn’t make excuses—he just apologizes honestly. The last thing he wants is for you to believe that you're anything less than the best thing to ever happen to him.

Silence no longer makes him uncomfortable. Despite his energetic, almost childlike nature, he has learned to dwell in stillness with you. He accompanies you in the simplest gestures: doing the laundry, stealing a moment from routine, sitting near you while you work. He doesn’t interrupt, just stays, with a book in his hands and a calm look in his eyes. He used to think love was about intensity, noise, passion. Now he knows it can also be about serene presence. Sometimes, he takes your hand in silence, without reason or explanation, as if in that touch he finds an anchor, a certainty, a home.

Lucifer tirelessly strives to prove that he deserves you. The shadow of Lilith left a deep mark on him, and he’s no longer the man he once was. He knows he can’t erase his past, nor always control his present. Yet, in the most subtle of ways—like when he offers you tea after seeing exhaustion in your face, or when he chooses not to isolate himself when he feels he's losing the internal battle—he makes it clear that he’s fighting to be a true partner, not a burden. He isn’t perfect, but you give him the strength to keep trying.

He reveals things to you he hasn’t spoken of in centuries: tales of his fall, the first dark years in Hell, the mistakes that still torment him, and of Charlie. He’s not seeking drama or pity, but trusts you with a vulnerability he rarely lets others see. He shows you the things that still consume him from the inside, and you, without judgment or words, listen with your soul. It’s only when he’s heard in that way that he finds a brief respite from his pain, a step closer to his own healing.

Insomnia still visits him, but he no longer faces it alone. On some nights, he wakes in silence, eyes bright and mind in chaos. He would have once retreated into solitude, seeking comfort in small distractions, like making a rubber duck until sleep returned. Now, however, he turns toward you, watching you as you sleep. The simple sight of your presence beside him brings him an unexpected peace, a calm that wraps around him until, finally, sleep claims him again, but this time, it’s with you in his arms.

He writes letters he never shows you, keeping them in a notebook hidden in one of his drawers. Some are poetic, others clumsy, but all speak of you as though you’re the light that illuminated his damnation. Maybe one day he’ll read them to you, when he feels there’s no fear of losing you.

He’s in the process of improving his communication. Sometimes it’s hard for him, and he withdraws into himself, but every time he manages to say “I need you” or “It felt good talking to you today,” he does it with sincerity. He doesn’t expect you to save him, just wants to share his journey with you.

When he holds you at night, he does so with a silent devotion, no longer the King of Hell or the feared figure, but an old soul who has finally found a home in your arms. Sometimes, he murmurs a “thank you for staying,” thinking you’re already asleep, but you hear it, always hear it, and in that whisper, all of his redemption is condensed, everything he’s been and everything he’s become.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

[angel-writes-here]

Ruin The Friendship

Daesung x AFAB! Reader Synopsis: You accidently tell your best friend how you feel and as a result, you avoid him. But can he stop you from going home? Warnings: Slight angst with a fluffy happy ending. A/N: I took on this prompt for an anon that a friend of mine had and just isn't in the best headspace. I hope that's ok with who ever requested it. 💘

The words slipped out before you could stop them. Those three little words that could change everything.

I love you.

You hadn’t meant to say it; it was the heat of the moment. He was complaining about how this girl seemed so perfect and yet his heart was in pieces.  It came flooding out of your mouth when the frustration became too much, because you knew you could treat him right. But when the words came out, his expression was unreadable and you fled the apartment before he could respond.

You hadn’t seen Daesung in days. No calls or text messages were exchanged, even though he tried reaching out to you. You couldn’t face him, it was too much. You decided it was time to go home, back to the US so life could, maybe, somehow resume as normal.

Daesung was shell shocked, he’d never gone more than a day at a time without hearing from you, without hearing your sweet infectious laughter or your stories about work or simply without your company. You guys were constantly in communication, but that didn’t matter. Not now.

“She really told you she loves you?” Jiyong and Seunghyun were sitting with him in his apartment.

“Yeah, and now she won’t even speak to me,” he sighs as Taeyang walks into the room with a drink in his hand.

“She’s probably just embarrassed, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s been a week. She never goes this long without talking to me,” his voice is laced with worry.

“I’ll try calling her,” Taeyang pulls out his phone.

“Wait, I don’t know what I’m going to say.” Daesung's face is one of worry and confusion. What does one say to a confession of love?

“Just tell her how you feel, hyung.” Seunghyun speaks up. Daesung sighs as the phone rings.

“Hey, y/n,” he says cheerfully and Daesung feels his stomach twist.

“Wait? Leaving? I thought you had at least another week left.”

“Will you at least tell me what happened?” There’s a pause in the conversation, Daesung finds himself holding his breath.

“Ok, but that doesn’t mean you have to leave,” he tries to reason with you.

“Y/n, he wants to see you.” Daesung nods his head like you can see him.

“I promise he does.” Taeyang sighs at your stubborn resolve.

“Look, just don’t leave yet, please. At least let me see you before you go.” Taeyang had been like an older brother to you, he was always kind enough to show you around, let you stay with him when you came to Korea until you found a small house to stay in, and his wife was like your best friend.

“Thank you, I’ll be over later.” He smiles into the phone before hanging up.

“You gotta tell her, tonight.”

“Tonight?” Daesung's voice moves up two octaves.

“Tonight, she’s leaving tomorrow.” Taeyang rises to his feet and claps his hands together. Daesung’s face twists in despair.

“It’s got to be perfect, romantic,” Daesung says as his mind races with what to do.

“I’ve got it,” Seunghyun shouts excitedly.

“Taeyang, you take her out for the day, the three of us will set up a romantic meal and Daesung will tell her then,” Jiyong smiles at his friends’ idea.

“That sounds perfect!”

-

Taeyang drags you all around town, claiming he just wants to spoil you and let you leave Korea feeling better despite the mishap with your words. He buys you a new outfit, lunch and even ice cream. He takes you to an arcade, where you kick his butt in Mario Kart and you almost forgot about why you wanted to leave.

Almost.

You arrive back at your place that night, giving him a hug to thank him for everything.

“Are you sure you have to leave, I know things feel awkward." You nod your head yes before he can continue.

“If I go home to America things can possibly resume as normal.”

He gives you a hug, trying to hide the giddy smile that’s on his face. He lets you walk inside the house and sends Daesung a message that you’re inside.

You start hearing soft music play from the small backyard and your heart starts to pound in your chest.

You slowly stalk your way to the glass door and gasp at the sight.

Candles are everywhere, rose petals and table set for two. You see Daesung standing behind the small round table. Your heart beat quickens even more than before. Despite your brain screaming at you to run, you shakily open the door and step out into the yard.

“What is this?” your voice is weak, a contrast to his bright strong smile.

“It’s for you,” he says simply. He walks over taking your hand and gently glides to the table.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re having dinner,” he says like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

Jiyong rounds the corner of the yard with your favorite take out food. He doesn’t say a word, just places in on the table and walks away.

You eye Daesung curiously.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says as he distributes the food.

“No, it’s just that,” the looks he gives you causes you to stop speaking. It’s a look that you know means, “I can see right through you”. You sheepishly look down as he begins to eat.

“You want to tell me why?” He asks after a beat of silence.

“I think you know,” you say barely above a whisper, you take a small bite of your food, your nerves keeping you from feeling too hungry. He nods.

“You didn’t even give me chance to respond.” He informs you. You nod your head, still not meeting his eyes.

“I didn’t want you to,” you shrug.

“Why?”

“Because, it was an accident, it wasn’t something you were ever meant to know. I mean, Dae we’re best friends, we’re closer than most people and romantic feelings, they complicate things and I didn’t want to hear how I ruined the friendship and how things could never be the same between us.” You vomit it all out and he stares at you for a moment.

“You are right, things can’t be the same,” your face falls and you sigh, pushing your plate back.

“See? That’s what I mean.” You blink back tears of frustration before Daesung is up out of his chair, pulling your hand to join him. The fairy lights on the fence cast a warm glow on the back yard along with the candles.

You allow him to pull you up and he starts swaying with you to the soft music.

“Dae, I’m sorry, it was an accident,” your mind is racing, heart is clamoring, and your hands shaking slightly.

“For what?” his eyes are soft, filled with a gentleness that only seems to exude from him the more you talk.

“For saying anything. I don’t want things to change between us. You’re my best friend,” Before you can continue, his lips are on yours, soft and slow, savoring your taste.

Your eyes are widened in shock, before they slowly flutter closed and you feel his grip on your waist tighten. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you just a little closer.

“It’s a shame you don’t want things to change, because I do,” he says breathlessly once the two of you part. Your too shocked to say anything, face flushed with pink as you meet his gaze.  A smirk appears on his face at your sudden shyness.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, y/n,” he whispers. Your eyes grow at his sudden confession.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Same as you, I guess. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I love you, y/n,” he says sentimentally. Your eyes brim with happy tears and you hug him close.

“I love you too, Dae.” Your smile is wide.

“So, you’ll stay for the rest of the week?” he asks once you pull away.

“On one condition.” He quirks his brow at you.

“You and me get to spend all your free time together,” you giggle and his smile is bright.

“Absolutely.” He grins before kissing you again, your arms wrapping around his neck playing the loose hair at the nape of his neck. Your stomach flips as the realization hits that everything is about to change for the two of you.

[princess-glassred]

IT au where all the boys' parents force them to compete in a stupid male beauty pageant cause they think it'll be cute but it just gets weirdly intense and competitive for no reason 😭.

Canal days has had the derry prince and princesses pageant since 1929 and has since continued this proud tradition with no signs of ever stopping it's grand wholesome legacy... even if they had that explosion that killed all those contestants that one year.... and that one year where the judge kidnapped both the winners and killed them in a basement... and the other year where the Derry princess got pigs blood dropped all over her. Okay, so maybe the pageant has a gorey history, but it's still a fun way to get kids involved in the community, and the winner gets to be in tv commercials, and on posters around town, and they win six hundred dollars in assorted gift cards!

Ben surprisingly is one of the few boys who wanted actually wanted to be in the pageant. His mom won miss Texas and she's always seemed sad that ben wasn't born a girl so she couldn't enter him in toddler pageants. He thinks that by participating in this he could make his mom happy, and he also thinks it could just be kind of cool to have someone more heavy set win a pageant.

Bill also did this of his own volition, but mostly just to get his parents to pay attention to him. He really just wants his parents to be stunned he's doing something like this, maybe then they'd have more of a reaction to him than just blank stares and vague praise.

Poor Eddie was doomed the moment he was old enough to participate in that stupid contest. Sonia's lil angel is the miss america of cute boys after all, and wouldn't it be just so precious to see him preforming up there in a little hand sewn outfit?

Mike's dad first suggested he try to be Derry days prince as just a joke, but the more he brought it up the more mike seemed surprisingly receptive to the idea. William also realized that given all the small town publicity Derry prince brings (like the aformentioned local commercials), it might be good for business to get mike on the stage. Plus... william is a very good farmer and a fairly well liked man in spite of how racist derry can be. Maybe he can pull a few strings, although he doubts mike needs nepotism and connections to win. Just look at that winning smile.

Richie absolutely does not want to do this. The only reason he's here is because wentworth signed him out up with out asking. He just thought "what? You get to preform, you love to preform!". He is right about that, but just because he likes to preform does NOT mean he wants to get on a stage in a silly outfit and do impressions for all the hicks in this town. He doesn't even get what the big deal is, what are you even becoming a prince of? A hotbed for drunks and burnouts? A bunch of endless fields full of cowshit? Buildings with missing posters covering their windows? Seriously, it's nothing to get hyped over. He does like the prospect of money though.... and playfully teasing eddie about beating him.

Stanley was perfectly content to just sit back and watch the rest of the guys do this. His parents don't often force him to do embarrassing things, and they're not ones for pageantry. Unfortunately richie thought it would be funny to sign him up for it so they can all look ridiculous together. Stan's doesn't even care enough to get super mad about it though, he's just pissed it made his parents super confused. They were like "since when does stanley like to get on stage? Is this his way of rebelling against us". Ugh.

Henry Bowers was also very happy to just sit around and call all the guys gay for this, until Butch caught wind of william hanlon entering mike with the hopes it'll boost business and he just HAD to beat him. Now butch and william are going full pageant mom over their kids and it's real embarrassing. All of henry's freinds rag on him about it and he too acts all "guys i swear i'm not into it, it sucks" but deep down he's having fun. He may not like being fancy but he sure does like being a winner. He cannot deny it would be wonderful to beat all the losers at something. Besides, this is the most time his fathers paid attention to him in... well ever. He doesn't even buy him christmas presents usually, but he bought him a suit (it came from a funeral home right off of a dead guy, but hey), he got him tap shoes, he even took him to the dentist and got him some veneers! Don't get it twisted though, this is just to one up mike and william, not because he loves henry.

Bev just kind of watches this all happen mildly amused, she doesn't wanna enter the derry days princess competition (she thinks its dumb and a little archiac and competing against greta keene sounds like a very strange form of torture. She's gonna win no matter what, she always does.), and her dad wouldn't let her even if she did. Mr. Marsh doesn't want bev to get gawked at by a bunch of dudes snd let her flaunt off her body. It doesn't matter how innocous derry days is, he hears the term pageant and immediately thinks it's just preteens in bikinis.

She gets a good laugh out of how high strung all her friends are about it. She makes a lot of quips about everyone being future miss USA and going to regionals. It's all very silly.

The talent portion of the competition is as humiliating as it is strange.

Mike plays his stupid trombone from the book and he's not even very good at it. Bill and georgie do an """adorable""" brotherly comedy act his parents made him do. Eddie is forced to do a monolouge of a poem sonia wrote for him how about how much he adores his mother, while dressed like he's 30 years older than he really is cause sonia thinks it's so cute when he looks like a tiny adult. Stan brings out a bird on stage and basically just prattles off bird facts for ten minutes. Ben plays the water glasses and he has to repeatedly remind his friends not to drink his talent before he goes on stage. Richie does dogshit comedy stand up in a suit that looks like it would give you hay fever from the pattern alone. Henry does a strange pig call/obstacle course thing with his pet pigs bip and bop while dressed in a ridiculous cowboy costume with banjo music in the background. He's actually pretty good at it, good enough that bill suggests to stan that they pruposefully throw the contest and let henry win since the only people who care about winning is ben and mike. Stan says he'd rather die than see Henry bowers win anything ever, at least not if he lived to gloat about it afterwards.

As if things couldn't get any weirder, there's a couple city slickers here to write about the culture of derrytownship for some kind of thesis or expose- honestly nobody is quite sure. But they interview each of the prince/princess contestants to give some insight into the whole process. Lots of candid interviews, stories about growing up in derry, and in henry's case- very flagrant trauma dumping disguised as trash talk.

If you're curious how everyone placed after, Ben ended up winning, Mike was runner up, Henry was third runner up, and Richie came dead last. This caused a massive chaotic fight to break out, spurred by henry trying to tackle Ben and take his crown, sonia, william, and Butch getting into a classic pageant mom fight, and all of this culminating in henry tumbling off the stage and breaking his nose.

Yeah, the derry prince and princess pageant just kinda turned into one big old mess at the end.

But hey, at least no one died this time.

[falloutcaldera]

As much as we rib on it, Both of us genuinely Love fallout, the absurd and the near misses and the incredibly engaging atmosphere, Hell, you don't write nearly 400 pages of content without feeling some kind of love for the source material.

Fallout is an excellent sandbox, with some truly moving story beats and absolutely breathtaking atmosphere at times, its a testimont to the love of so many of its writers, actors and set designers, to the love of its fans and players and those who have been meaningfully touched by it, including us. I don't often talk about it but, Caldera changed my Life, for the Better, being brave and stepping into the spotlight with cilantro, and being *well received* for it helped genuinely undo a small lifetime of trauma and fear, it gave me the chance to stop feeling like I had to hide under a rock, it gave me the idea that maybe, just maybe, theres a path out of my shitty situation. You were no small part of that Calder, Thank You.

So Yeah, Fallout is goofy, and contradictory, and sometimes it REALLY fucks up (coughcough, doggod, coughcough), but that has never made me love it any less

-Ren

I believe Fallout lore should be a little bit like comics: Something that inspires later writers to tear the canon apart, paste it back together, reinvent it, critique it, parody it, make a version that's better out of spite or passion or good natured ribbing on their part for their favorite silly or corny or edgy or just-missed-the-mark plotline.

It's a space with the potential to be weird and wonderful, especially with the directions fans and unofficial media take it - ancient cities & creatures out of pulp horror, eternal tempests & the storm chasers that ride the wind, competing sects & heretical worshipers, mishmash worlds & meta commentary, a looking glass to our own world & history through the lense of another, and what comes after.

More than anything, being able to communicate all these ideas, differing opinions, absurdly disparite directions and takes serves to inspire. Angles I can't see, ideas i could never articulate, worlds that are not my own yet i find wonderful to explore. Sharing these spaces hasn't just made me love Fallout, but made me able to engage with & explain AUs and personal ownworks i haven't been able to properly work on in a decade.

More than anything, though, all this helps me believe in a better horizon - that even this art can mean something, that things will change for the better in spite of hardships, that even after the end of something they'll be new life in the wastes left behind.

If i could be forgiven for being corny, maybe i could claim it's given me New World Hope :p

-cilantro

i rly love that people go back years on this blog and engage with my old stuff but also i was such a miserable rude cunt until around 2022 its often embarrassing to see how casually arrogant and negative i could be

[sugurusladyknightt]

this is weird for her.

utahime is restless and jittery, unable to sit still which really only prolongs the task; she'd asked that you trim her hair for her, style it too. she didnt have any plans or somewhere to be but craved closeness with you. today, for some odd reason, more than she usually did.

maybe it's the long days that had made up the past week. maybe it was that you had told her you'd met someone and even as your closest friend, she had no reason to relent. they really were all that, and you deserved all that — more than anyone. all big smiles and flushed cheeks as you told her about the encounters you've had with them so far.

utahime was silent, focused on the feeling of your hands her short damp hair. the thin comb in your hands delicately brushing over her dark strands. it's really quiet, only the soft hums of some song playing from somewhere she can't see, probably your phone, tossed aside and forgotten. you hand her the little wooden comb, leaving behind a suggestive remark she doesn't regeister as you lean over her shoulder to grab the scissors. it's only playful teasing between friends, but foolishly, utahime cannot contain the fluster she feels. a hiccup stuck in her throat, ears warming as her fingers curl around the comb in her hands, nearly snapping the thing in half.

the small soft tuffs of dark hair you cut fall onto her shoulders, making your away around her, angling her head and twisting her neck to ensure it's even all around.

"sooo. you like? how do you wanna style it?" you whistle at her. it's lighthearted, playful.

eyes meeting in the reflection of the mirror, soft and deliberate; you wanna make her feel at ease.

it's always the little things with you. your hands rubbing her shoulders to ease whatever burden they carry, chin resting upon her head and an easy smile on your lips. your aren't waiting for anything from her, you won't rush her into a decision, simply acting as a pillar for her to lean on. her support and her peace in one person.

"i'll like anything you choose to do"

her home.

every word and syllable measured with careful attention. it's not her usual approach to communicating with you (which would be free and honest. comfortable) but nothing around you feels usual as of late, and really only she could be held responsible for that.

your hands busy themselves in her hair, drying and styling her short trimmed locks.

she feels small as mouse, this new.. acquaintanceship you're having making making her feel incredibly insignificant. a second thought and like she's lost her place in your list of priorities.

(foolish foolish girl.)

a large child unable to let go of what she holds dearest. it's feels petty and juvenile but she can't help that she's feeling this way.

pretty swirls of hair are formed by your gentle hands hold in the small brush. meticulous and skillful. you're taking this so seriously and that might make it worse. a mother tireless in tending to her child. perhaps that's all you see her as. it's keeping you from noticing these thoughts of hers though so it isn't all bad.

tying a bow of silken cream-coloured ribbon into her dark hair. you could read her like a book, seeing all the neatly printed words and not understanding a single one.

utahime looks at you so fondly, her eyes fill with hearts and her stomach with butterflies. 'i'll take what i can get' she decides. it burns and it aches but her options are limited.

good things come to those who wait.

you laugh together and hold hands. tease and throw each other playful jabs. dolled up with her hair styled pretty as you two spiral into each others embrace. no one would fit against your body as well as she does, her hands rest on your body nuzzeld close as she could. holding you.

good things come to those who wait and you are the best of things.

good things come to those who wait and no one will wait with as much unyielding certainty and adoration as utahime will.

your fingertips trace the pretty swirls you shaped earlier, and she closes her eyes in content. her time being loved by you as more than a friend will come in time. in the meantime she'll repeat those words to herself in silent prayer and promise, as she's relishing in the closeness she has with you now.

~~

➺ based on this thought and sketch

[goth-mami-writer]

♡•Feel Sick•♡ (pt.8)

~(Au) Leon Kennedy × f!reader work

~⚠️TW⚠️: Plot contains themes of age gap romance (reader is 18yo), obsessive behaviors, mild instances of stalking, coercion, emotional manipulation, and graphic smut! (Please interact with discretion)

Find previous parts here---> (Previously)

!!Graphic Smut Below ⬇️⬇️⬇️

《 Leon was trapped on the phone with the governor that night, trying to pretend he wasn't checking his watch every minute to try and make the time go faster. The head of state on the other end of the line wasn't a bad guy, by no means an asshole, but nonetheless, he was entirely too rigid to breathe at ease around.

The two men were talking of potential communications outside of DC via contacts in the Middle East when Leon felt his phone buzz. He cursed himself inside if this was his battery notification telling him his phone had sunk down to ten percent just by this one egregious phone call, but it was far, far worse.

When he saw the pink notification appear on his home screen when he pulled the screen away from his ear, his heart sank. It was your vibrator alerting him that it'd been turned on. He looked at the clock and saw where it was approaching midnight quick, another factor to make him curse under his breath. It meant that most likely you were laying down and felt ready to explore but fuck he couldn't miss that.

The governor started speaking more concludingly, which felt like a swath of relief, meaning that they might have been close to finishing their chat, but nothing would be fast enough. Leon watched the notifications that you were flipping through the settings on the wand. He didn't know if you were actually using it or maybe getting used to the controls, but either way, he had to readjust his waistband with a tug. God, it was a sight in his mind to see you with your hands between your legs.

Meanwhile, you read the instructions on the small square sheet under the velvet lining of the toy's packaging and made sure it was quiet enough that your parents wouldn't hear.

“Okay..pulsing…low intensity…high intensity..Jesus- there's more than that?” You asked yourself in the dark as your eyes moved from the wand to its smooth silky instruction sheet.

You turned it on the first setting and let it rumble in your palm for a moment - listening and learning the sounds that it made. When you felt brave enough, you lied down to the mattress after clicking it off to get ready before you pressed the button again. Your panties became slipped down to your ankles, somehow nervously even though you were alone.

Your mind went to Leon and what he might be doing when your hand slipped below the covers and you felt yourself to already be halfway wet just from the excitement of using his vibrator. You moved your needing clit around gently with just your inside fingers and wetted your mouth to the feeling. Instinctively, your mind imagined him on top of you, telling you how good it felt to fuck you as his voice rasped inbetween breaths. But you wanted more.

As your fingers moved in circles more to stimulate your now swollen sweet spot, you thought of what you really wanted. Your body ached to have his cock in your mouth while he praised you from above. You'd tasted his cum after sex, maybe swirled your tongue around his tip that was flaring in the swathes of an orgasm but never had you willfully and completely sucked him like you wanted. You whimpered with a bitten lip to the image of him with his head back and his fist in your hair as you tasted his sweet precum in the back of your throat then your hips bucked in response.

You knew that you were ready just by the sound of your wet core moving with your soft rhythms and you lowered the tip of your vibrator to your clit. You pressed the button and gasped loudly when the vibration delighted you. It was strong and it was nothing like that bullet that you couldn't have left further to the back of your mind now that your knees were being shaken in only seconds.

As your mouth began to hang open, feeling the first swathes of an approaching orgasm already meeting you so quickly under this new medium, your vibrator then stopped. Your eyes shot open in wonder of how the actual fuck the toy you'd been charging all afternoon under your bed had just died after not even five minutes.

When you looked down to inspect, you noticed the light on the bottom of the wand still being illuminated, which only confused you more. It was on? It wasn't dead. You clicked the vibration setting again, feeling it begin to whir once again….only to stop in seconds. You grimaced your face to ask what the fuck was going on until there was a notification buzz from your cell phone.

You rose up out of the bed, disheveled from your arousal with messy hair and your underwear still down to your feet but you saw a new text on your homescreen. Your heart felt relentless trying to reach to your nightstand but your breath was taken too when you saw that Leon had text you.

You squinted down to read what it read as your legs still shook,

“I know you're getting antsy, sweetheart, but be a good girl for just a few more minutes.”

You gasped in shock, but your heart swam with a new excited rhythm to know that he was the one on the other end of your vibrator moving the controls to keep you from getting ahead of him. You waited with your mind racing, and finally, you felt your phone begin to buzz with his call in the minutes later that felt like years to your pulse.

With one last look at your door to make sure it was locked, you answered with a wide smile that Leon could hear stretched across your sweet mouth.

“You're not trying to get started without me, sweetie, are you?” He asked in jest as you continued to softly jeer in excitement with aroused laughter and you bit the end of your thumb, feeling for the first time how fun it felt to anticipate…phone sex.

“You're late-” You told him with an artificial scold to how far past midnight it was and he informed you of his call to the governor.

Leon was already in bed, feeling as his pants were already tight in thinking of you being eager to get started and he smiled to ask you after another moment of playful banter.

“Do you like the vibe so far? It's gotta be better than that cheap knock off you had before.”

You assured him that it was strong and your first moments using it were nice and he bit his lip to know that you'd already gave it a try by yourself and he said with a soft groan under his breath,

“Are you already laying down for me, babygirl?”

“Mhm-” you answered with your breath already heavy and he said wetting his mouth,

“Alright, I'm gonna move the settings for you on my end- so don't be pressing any buttons- you just keep your legs open and move it where it feels good, baby, okay?”

You agreed softly in a gasp, and after you gently placed the toy placed right atop your needy sweet spot below the covers, you told him you were ready. Leon dragged the small intensity bar across his phone with one half stroke to begin your experience on the lower setting.

But you still felt your hips bucking, and you hummed in delight just from knowing it was him controlling your pleasure. Your legs opened wider instinctively, and your legs chilled to feel the first waves of pleasure brought by his maneuvering. You wanted more. You needed the setting to be turned higher for more thrill, but you knew he wouldn't give in so quickly.

You heard him take a shaky breath, unaware that he already had a tight clutch of his cock that was aching for you through his boxers,

“Yeah, baby, does that feel good? Talk to me.”

“Mmm-” You answered in a gasp, hearing him so turned on through the phone,

“Leon…turn it higher. Just a little more.”

He bit his lip to hear your need, feeling the itch just to drive out and sneak in your parents house here in the middle of the night, the way his skin crawled almost made it plausible in his mind so clouded in yearning. He lowered his waistband and finally wrapped his hand around his cock already weeping with precum from your soft sounds, remembering the taste of your wet core when it craved more like this.

“You tell me whose pussy that is first, y/n. Tell me who's gonna make you cum tonight without touching you.”

His hand already began pumping across his shaft as he spoke, tightening his mouth through the words, and you were enthralled with desire as you spoke his name breathily and low,

“Mm, Leon-”

“One more fucking time-” He grunted with his wrist working unashamedly against his cock and you heard through the muted sounds of his sheets moving, confirming that he was touching himself to your pleasure and you moaned into the phone.

“...Leon-!”

He pulled the phone away from his ear, heaving for air as he then moved his thumb to your toys vibration setting. He skipped the slow building that he wanted to do tonight after realizing he'd never last that long himself. Your body was hungry and he wanted to indulge you.

Leon put the setting on high, not its highest but high enough where he heard the toy from under the covers with your open mouth chuffing at the sudden change in intensity. Your hips bucked against the wand, trying with your shaking wrist to keep it in place as it rattled your palm.

“Put it right on your clit baby- feel how good it is right on top. Don't you dare cum yet. You tell me when you can't stop.”

He said with short, choppy gasps as he continued to pump his cock to the image of you getting off with a vibrator on high. He wanted you on top of him, owning your body like he always did when he needed you this bad and his own climax was fast approaching when he asked you against the burn in his chest from desire.

“Tell me what you're thinking of- tell me what's gonna get you off-”

You moved the head of the wand across your sensitive bud still in gentle motions, surprised you were lasting so long and you told him with your tongue wetting your mouth to the day dream you had in mind,

“I want to suck you- Oh my god- I want to hear you moan with…your cock in my mouth.”

Your back arched up from the bed, telling of one thing- that you were seconds from coming and Leon groaned loudly into the phone, not even expecting you to talk so dirty or to only imagine sucking him off so vivid as you pleased yourself and he panted deeply before he answered, making your moment near in closer.

“I'll let you suck me off before you go to college, baby- you've been a good girl. But I'm gonna fuck you one more time before you leave. I don't care…if it's my back fucking seat…”

His head begin to swim and he felt himself beginning to unfocus and he demanded with another grunt, hearing you begin to whine from your throat in that needful way which always denoted your pleasure beginning to build,

“Take it off your clit. Right now- open your legs and put it inside. Ugh- fuck yourself..just like I do. God fucking damn, I'm gonna cum.”

You said his name into the phone with your head back in the pillows, unsure if taking the wand off your clit would even stop your orgasm but you did as he wanted, aligning the curved tip of the wand to your wet folds then gently pushing it inside where you yipped in pleasure before beginning to drive it inside- mimicking the speed and depth of the last time he fucked you so good.

“Ah- ah- Le-” You begged, wanting his permission to finally let go and he moaned to the sounds of your stutters, loving that you even enjoyed the vibe inside of you.

“Move it right across your g-spot- just like my cock- and fucking cum for me. I wanna hear it, baby. Do it. Now-!” He said, only seconds away from his own orgasm that he knew would drench his sheets and lap but fuck, he didn't care.

Your body obeyed before you could even think to and the moan you released choked your throat as your body unraveled with spasms you hadn't felt before when you began to slow the pace of penetrating yourself. You whined in enjoyment from under your breath but heard as Leon was quaking.

The cum drizzled down his knuckles as he cussed and called your name, murmuring in lost whispers from the delight he felt in knowing you'd gotten off with your vibrator. His own back arched, making his heels dig into his mattress when he said in soft decline from an orgasm so high,

“Goddamit, y/n. Babygirl, you're making me feel like an old man. Can't last longer than ten minutes- Jesus.”

You smiled, still heavily panting from the fun and feeling as your massaged clit was throbbing from the descent of your high. But now as you were settling back from a bodily paradise, you began to realize some of the things he had mentioned during your erotic experience.

“Leon-” you said, still catching your breath slightly.

“-are we gonna separate when…I move to state?”

You had wondered before if your new relationship would take a turn in the onset of your college life. But you'd always assured yourself that Leon would never just drop you because you were in school and further away. But hearing him say the words, ‘...one last time before-’ made your bones shake.

He was your world now- as much as it jarred you to realize laying there with your feelings as exposed as your open legs but it was true.

“Baby-” Leon answered cleaning up, grunting to reach across the bed with the phone to his ear,

“I want you to focus on your classes. I know you're smart and don't always need to study but college is serious, honey- I…”

His mouth tightened trying to find his words carefully as to not hurt the feelings he already knew were becoming more tender than he liked for him,

“....I don't want you so caught up in us fucking around all the time.”

Your eyes watered and you said with your hands shaking to hold the phone steady,

“Leon, I want you to come and see me in school. I'll be stuck on campus all weekend- and I-”

“Hey- hey- hey-” He said shushing you from getting upset when imagining him just dropping you without a thought in his mind afterwards,

“Listen to me, I just want you to take this semester seriously. I didn't say that maybe once or twice a month…I won't come snatch you off campus…maybe take you somewhere nice before I take you home for the weekend. It might be a good thing. Cause that'll keep you out of keg parties and maybe out of jail to sober up.”

You giggled only for a second before your lips quivered again, feeling relieved at even just the idea that you wouldn't stop seeing him. You felt like a child but you asked him with a pitiful shake in your tone,

“You promise?”

“I-” Leon said before hesitating, wanting it to be clear what he was promising you like this,

“I promise…that I will do my best, sweetheart. I can't promise much else.”

You felt better after hearing him at least promising to try. Softly you hummed from feeling better and he chuckled from hearing your smile over the phone.

“Yeah- see? Don't you always get your way with me? One way or another-” He teased with a twinge of tiredness in his voice after a long day and an even longer night.

You told him that his ‘princess’ treatment was in fact music to your ears. But it was so much more than that. Unironically, he was spoiling you. With attention- with gifts- with feelings that maybe…you weren't old enough to understand. Did this mean you loved him? Or did you enjoy the game and how it felt to play it?

“Are you dozing off, old man?” You asked upon hearing his silence when your thoughts had begun to take you in those stray minutes of still being on the phone.

“Mhm-” Leon said with his eyes in fact closing already,

“You wore me out, baby girl. Not as young as I used to be, yanno?”

You smiled, promising that you'd let him get some sleep. He made you promise that you'd text him in the morning and you did, telling him goodnight softly with heavy words left unsaid. He ended the call, telling you that you were beautiful and when your phone laid back on your mattress, softly you felt the need to cry and you tried to swallow the tears back down your throat.

You wanted to tell him how you really felt. Instead of saturating the relationship upon the attraction for sex. Your mouth trembled and you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket before you said into the dark - the loneliness of your room as if you were practicing letting the words fall from your lips without a stutter in deciding if it was wrong or right.

“I love you, Leon.” 》

[aerodaltonimperial]

an update, of sorts. it's almost the two-year anniversary of me writing my first jack/darby fic (4/20), and i guess i have thoughts.

it's... kind of unbelievable that this rarepair that didn't exist before i got my grubby hands on it is what it is now? the two of them barely had much of anything on ao3: 200 fics, if anything, and at least half where they were just tagged as a background character. it took months before jack's tag even had his own pairing as the number one pairing inside because he played second fiddle in so many hookhausen fics. they were not fandom darlings, and they continue to not be fandom darlings, and i guess i'm really happy that i could create fics where they both got to be main characters, and complex, and nuanced, and just... three-dimensional. i'm actually really happy that i could do that for them. i've had a really nice time writing about them and coming up with ideas, and obviously, i got incredibly lucky that they ended up feuding and having so much content last year.

but obviously, my relationship with writing has been fundamentally changed from the massive and all-encompassing failure of me trying to be traditionally published. some days, i'm okay, and fic is enough. others, i'm not okay. it comes in waves. i suspect it will always come in waves, and i'm clearly still dealing with the lingering fallout issues in my head from all of that. it's hard. it's hard when i'm still seeking validation that my writing is worth something, and i'm in a really small fandom, writing about not-super-popular characters. i suppose i didn't really pick the best place to find that validation, lol. i'm very slowly and very carefully working my way back into reading actual books, which, depending on what i try to read, can trigger me into a week-long depression. that's really, really hard. i used to read over a hundred books a year, books were my life. and i don't read anymore, because all it does is remind me of what i couldn't do. i'm trying, but it's hard, and it takes a lot out of me sometimes.

and with fic? this fandom is really tough. look, i'm not the end-all, be-all of characterization. i've never claimed to be. and to be honest, i've been really ostracized by a large section of fans in these two's spheres because of reasons i don't even know when all i've ever tried to be was friendly. and, like, fine. okay. they don't like what i write, that's fine. all i do is sit quietly in my corner, and write my silly fics, and people fucking hate me for it. i never called it out. i never put people on blast. i just let all the vague-posting go, and quietly blocked, and again, no one has to like what i write. i try to be really positive in fandom, and read a lot more widely than i write, and hype up artists, and you know that meme post we used to quote all the time, i came here to have a good time and i'm honestly feeling so attacked right now? well, laughter aside, that's kinda been fandom for me the last couple of months. i keep seeing wrestling discords go around, and i would love to fucking find a community, but i can't go in those things, because the people who hate me inevitably end up being in there already. if tumblr goes down? i don't really have much. as it turns out, i'm pretty... frustrated. with all of that.

i don't really know where i'm going with this. i didn't mean to make this pairing so all-encompassing that it's hard to extract them from it to write them with anyone else. i clearly never came in aiming to destroy other people's happiness just by posting fics (though CLEARLY i did that, given the vague posting last year). i just really like their dynamics, and the possibilities, and the complexities of the kayfabe stories they carry with them, and them as people. all i ever wanted to do was explore all that, and write some silly stories. it's been a rough few months. i hope i stay here and write, because they deserve to have more fics written about their characters, and quite frankly, i deserve to have one positive space for writing, where i don't matter in any real way and i'm just doing something out of love. i've made some truly lovely friends in fandom, and i hope i can figure out a way to not feel quite so negative about the space in general. i don't even know why people are so mad about my fics, lol, i'm lucky to hit 20 kudos these days. who am i even hurting???

anyway. tl;dr. no one cares, katy lol. happy two years, skategoat. you've come a long way, babes. i'm sorry you got me as your ambassador, who seems to have continuous, stupid mental health issues and can't fucking do anything right to save her life. you both deserve better lol.

[chibishortdeath]

Hello! I'm really enjoying your art and blog! I wish you good luck in your journey through tumblr!

Oh hey thanks!!!!! :D!!!! I’m glad to hear people are liking my stuff, it means a lot :3. And yeah, tumblr has been pretty fun so far, definitely a more forgiving platform than others I’ve been on. Way more of a post at your own pace and not whenever the arbitrary posting times are kind of a place, it’s nice! 🍀\(>.<\ ) accepting that luck too cause I’ll need it hehe

[wackywatchdotcom]

the thing about me is that the process of waiting for a new ep is relatively new for me... i watched the pilot when it came out like everyone else did but at the time i was too focused on a different show to really care (one, which is funny, since its an extremely similar show conceptually) (i highly recommend it i was obsessed w it for well over a year and thats like. genuinely some sort of record for me. and when i say the shows are similar i mean soooo similar. not enough that they fill the same spot in my heart but like. if you watch it ull see what i mean heart emoji). i was around when the teaser came out but i wasnt super invested at the time. it was only like 2 months ago that i decided to get high and watch the show and i was like. woah. woah wait this show fucks

ive liked shows n stuff that were ongoing so its not like im unfamiliar w that concept but i feel like every show and its community and its team has a different feeling and cycles to new parts of it coming out. and bc ive never seen how that works for this show im very excited to find out... i find older posts abt teasers and images from episodes and the site and whatnot and i imagine ill be weird and very not normal about it! because that tends to be my response to those sorts of things

[ryemiffie]

Throwback to that time a very large creator stole something I had written without any credit whatsoever and I was never able to speak up about it because their fanbase was super toxic and the creator themselves had proven to be very hostile towards anything they perceived as "criticism" so I just stayed silent about it for years cause of fear, even brushing it aside and laughing it off whenever others brought up the very blatantly stolen work because I really didn't want any trouble from this person or their fans.

So uhhh, anyone else ever get their work stolen and just never really talk about it? Art, writing, anything of the sort? I'd love to know I am not alone in this experience

[itsaboutthepotential]

a part of me wishes i never read the caraval series because then i wouldn't have fallen so damn hard for tellajacks/jackstella + tella i actually read the ouabh series first and enjoyed evajacks for the most part, and i was hesitant on reading caraval because 1) the fanbase seems to highly prefer ouabh over caraval, and 2) i didn't want to have to read about the relationship between jacks & tella, but then i did... and now i can't seem to enjoy ouabh/evajacks as much anymore because, gosh, caraval, tellajacks, and tella just did it for me. and now i'm just thinking of making a tellajacks blog AND have it be a place for other non-canon ships - be it rarepairs or crack ships!

[karinyosa]

listen i can’t prove that asp bloggers by and large seem to know brinker was based on gore vidal now because of me but brother i will say it was not like that back when there were like 4 asp blogs and all the fanart was anime

[angeloshadows]

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