#for a second i was scared that the image would be one of those dumb weed plugs again but NO!!

[flowersandcandy06]

enamoured by your grainy and blurry maxposting. cat

OH. oh MY GOD.

FANART. OF MY BELOVED MOST ADORABLE CAT MAX????? on MY Tumblr BLOG????? WHATY

this is so freaking BEAUTIFUL bro oml... i could eat this and print it 500 times (if i had a working printer in the 1st place)

THANK YOU!!!!!!! this is the best new years day present EVER :,D my angel,,,, bab y,,:3 4 ever

[httpvomitello]

Could I request a Fred Weasley x reader where after the battle of Hogwarts she gets a bit overprotective after almost losing him?

also happy new year

Hello, hello! I hope you like it and happy new year a little late, hehe. ♡

After the Battle *⁠.⁠✧

fred weasley x f!reader

The war had left a mark on everyone, but for you, it felt like it had shredded the fabric of your world. When the Battle of Hogwarts had ended, you found yourself clinging to the people you loved most, terrified of losing them again. Fred was among those you clung to the hardest. The thought of him in danger was something your heart simply couldn’t bear.

It wasn’t just the battle that had torn you apart; it was the aftermath. Fred was alive, yes. But the scars—emotional ones—ran deep. You couldn’t help but remember the way his body had felt in your arms that day in the Great Hall, cold and lifeless, how the world had almost stopped turning. How you had almost lost him. That image never left you.

And now, every time he walked out the door, a wave of panic surged through you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you might never see him again. You’d never admit it to him, but you couldn’t stop yourself from fearing the worst. He was your world, and you couldn’t stand the idea of it falling apart again.

It had started small at first. Just little things. The way your stomach tightened when Fred went out with George. The quiet anxiety that bubbled up every time he left the room. You tried to hide it, tried to pretend everything was fine. But it wasn’t.

“Y/N, I’m just going to the shop with George. I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t worry about me,” Fred said one afternoon, his voice light and carefree as he grabbed his coat.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Do you have to go now?” Your voice came out too shaky for comfort, but you tried to cover it with a nonchalant shrug.

Fred frowned, his brow furrowing as he turned to face you. “You’re acting a little strange lately. What’s going on?”

You felt the weight of his gaze on you. He wasn’t dumb—he could tell something was off. But you didn’t know how to explain. How could you tell him that every time he left, you felt like your heart would shatter into pieces? That you were terrified of losing him, just like you almost did before?

“It’s nothing, Fred,” you said, your voice too soft, too quick. You could feel your heart racing in your chest.

Fred crossed his arms, not buying it for a second. “It’s clearly not nothing. You’ve been like this for weeks now. What’s going on, Y/N?”

You could feel the panic rising. Your breath quickened, your hands trembled slightly. You didn’t want to burden him with your fears, but you also couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. “I’m just scared,” you blurted out, unable to keep it inside.

Fred raised an eyebrow. “Scared? Of what?”

“Of losing you,” you whispered, looking down at the floor, not able to meet his eyes. “I almost lost you, Fred. I can’t—I can’t go through that again.”

The silence between you both felt suffocating. Fred stepped closer, his voice suddenly sharp with frustration. “You can’t keep this up, Y/N. You can’t keep holding me like this, like I’m some fragile thing you can’t let out of your sight.”

You flinched at his tone, the words stinging more than you wanted to admit. “I’m just trying to protect you,” you said, your voice small, almost apologetic.

Fred’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to say something else. But then he sighed, exasperated. “You’re smothering me, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. I promised you that.”

His words felt like a slap, even though you knew they weren’t meant to hurt. But in your heart, the fear was still there, gnawing at you. “I know,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “But I... I can’t help it. Every time you leave, I feel like I’m losing you all over again.”

Fred ran a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face. “This isn’t healthy,” he muttered, his voice softer now but tinged with anger. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. You’re still treating me like I’m dead.”

His words hit you like a brick. You winced, feeling the weight of them, the sting of the truth in what he said. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I don’t mean to. I just... I can’t stop thinking about that moment. When I thought I lost you. And it’s like I’m... I’m still living in that moment.”

Fred’s expression softened, but there was still a tension in his shoulders. He stepped closer to you, taking your hands gently in his. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. But you can’t keep doing this. You have to let go of the fear. I know it’s hard, but you’re pushing me away with it.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a wave of guilt wash over you. “I don’t want to push you away,” you whispered. “I just... I don’t know how to stop being scared.”

Fred gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “You’re dealing with trauma, my love. And it’s okay to be scared. But you have to remember that I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, letting his warmth ground you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I’m sorry I’ve been... so hard on you.”

Fred shook his head, his voice soft. “You don’t need to apologize. I get it, okay? I’m just as scared as you are. But we have to do this together. You don’t have to face it alone.”

You nodded, pressing your forehead to his, letting the tears fall freely now. Fred wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight, not saying anything more but letting the silence speak for itself. The fear, the trauma—it was still there, lurking beneath the surface, but with Fred’s arms around you, you felt just a little bit safer.

You weren’t okay yet. You weren’t healed. But you weren’t alone.

And for now, that was enough.

[lotus-n-l0ve]

SERENITY TO HIS HEART

— Mafia!Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano x Wife!Female Reader

You Will Forever Be My Always.

*⁠.✧ SYNOPSIS : The scarred past of Mikey haunts him even in his dreams, making him loose his mind. Though even through them you stay by his side. Bring him out of his misery.

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : Mafia!mikey, wife!Reader, pregnant!reader, reader held at gun point, ptsd, mafia themes, angst, nightmare, 895 words.

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // TOKYO REVENGERS MASTERLIST

DON'T PRESS [KEEP READING] IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY.

The cold touch of the muzzle of the gun on your forehead woke you up with a startle. Your eyes shot open, the view of the ceiling was hazy but as you focused your vision you saw the very familiar gun pressed on your forehead. A gun that belonged to your husband, Manjiro, the leader of Toman.

You followed the pale hand holding on to the metal grip of the gun, the pointer finger resting the trigger, ready to strike any second, your eyes met his dead obsidian ones, looking at you like an injured beast does to a potential threat. The only source of light being the lamp on the nightstand didn't help either.

There he is, your husband. Sitting on your stomach, his tights had you pinned on the fluffy bed. A whisper of his name left your lips but did nothing to him. Was it one of those episodes where his past haunts him down and torments him?

“They sent you unarmed?” His empty voice cut through the tension in the room. It was more of a statement than a question, “Have I lost my touch that they thought one unarmed woman is enough to end me.”

Manjiro dragged the muzzle down your nose and lips till he hovered it over your neck, “Who sent you? Hmm? Who's your boss?”

His voice was rather calm but you couldn't miss the threat lurking underneath it. It was the same he used against his enemies. Last warning before the sword strikes.

“Manjiro, it’s me, Y/N.” Your voice shook with the fear of the trigger being pressed anytime.

You saw a silver of recognition on his face but it was gone as soon as it appeared. Mikey said your name, trying to remember who it was. Rolling the name on his tongue. The name left a sweet taste in his mouth but the name did not ring any bell of familiarity.

“Y/N?” His eyebrows frowned in suspicion, “I don't know any Y/N. They sent you here to kill me, didn't they?”

You moved your head to deny but Mikey pressed the gun under your jaw, tilting your head back as a menacing grip appeared on his face, “Do they think I'm fucked in the head that I'll believe this dumb story? You think I'm delusional?”

Breath caught in your throat. Whenever Mikey was going through these episodes, you felt your heart in your throat, ready to jump out. They scared you to the core. But then you think of Mikey, your Manjiro, your husband who loves you more than life. He would rather burn the world down than see tears in your eyes. You loving husband who stood by your side in your most difficult time. All the fear in your heart evaporates.

“I'm your wife, Manjiro. Try to remember.” Even after trying to not cry, a sob left your lips, “Try to remember. I love you so much.”

“No, you don't.” The quick words sting right at your heart, “No one loves me. No one can love me. Who are you?”

Your lips trembled as you thought about the last thing to bring Mikey back to you. You lift your shaky hand and hold his left hand that was resting on the bed by your side. His grip on the gun tightened, ready to shoot and end all this hassle. But something held him back. He could not bring himself to pull the trigger.

The image of this stranger lying on his bed with a bullet pierced through her skull, eye lifeless and a stilled heart, made his heart nervous. He didn't like that. He didn't want that. Mikey let you move his hand and settle it on your tummy.

“I love you and the soul growing in me is the proof of our love Manjio. Snap out Manjiro. For me, for our baby, please.”

Mikey stayed motionless. His eyes staring down at your stomach. Unconscious Mikey spread his finger, feeling up the skin hidden underneath the white nightwear. Then it did. Something struck in his heart.

Y/N. Y/N. His lovely Y/N. The silver speck of light in his ravaged life. How could he forget you? His love, his life, his reason to live. And the innocent soul growing in your belly, was a miracle in his life.

Mikey felt tears pricking his eyes and nose burning. Wails of pain erupted from his chest as if letting all the weight off of his chest. Tears stream down Mikey’s flushed cheeks, in shame, fear and guilt but also from the sense of comfort of your presence.

You spread your arms to the side and said with your ever so gentle voice, “Come here.”

And then the dam broke. Mikey flushed himself into your arms, burying his face into your chest, the gun fell on the floor with a clunk. His whole body shook because of the crying.

You run your hand on his back with comforting strocks, “I'm not going anywhere. I love you Manjiro. I'll be right here, by your side, whenever you need me. I'm sure our little one loves their daddy too.”

Your whispers of solace soothed his wrecked heart. Mikey weeped in your protective arms, letting himself be so vulnerable the world will never see. He let your tranquil embrace bring serenity to his heart.

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© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarise any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

[1-have-no-idea]

But hate is so close to love

(Image not mine :))

authors note: this is the fic I’ve been talking about! Finally something long! Let me know what y’all think, this is my first time ever writing something really ‘long’, apologies for the wonky spacing, kinda rushed-

Character(s): Maul, fem! reader

Genre: angst, romantic, comfort

Overview: you, being a civilian that Maul originally took with him to be an ‘example’, aka, killing you, but at the last second, takes interest in you because he can use you. You made a wonderful slave. But slave’s aren’t supposed to forgive their captor, much less love them. Sith couldn’t love. Maul couldn’t love. He couldn’t care less about you. So why did it scare him so much that one day, you’d realize how bad he was for you and leave him?

Warning(s): death, mentions of torture, starvation, dehydration, cruelty, fear, bleeding heart reader, slavery, slight age-gap (reader is implied to be somewhere in her early twenties, Maul is around mid-thirties), corruption, Stockholm syndrome (?), violence, panic attacks, abandonment, manipulation (?), degradation

6519 words

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The dust under you was smearing your pants a rust-brown. You felt a bead of sweat on your temple slowly run down your face, the faint heat of a lightsaber near your face. It burnt your skin, felt as if you were on the planet of Tatooine in the middle of the day. An understatement of a testament of how scorching it really was if it made contact with your flesh. You kept your eyes trained on the saber, the one casting a red glow upon your face. The one wielding the lightsaber was none other than one of the most infamous Nightbrother’s, Darth Maul himself. His face held no emotion other than dispassion as he held the lightsaber close to your face, fiery yellow eyes boring into your own.

Oh, you knew this was a bad idea! You should’ve never hijacked that ship, should’ve stayed at home and not have letten your curiosity take over you! ‘Curiosity killed the loth cat’ wasn’t just a saying, you realized. You just wanted to get off your own planet and explore a new one, that was all! But of course you just happened to crash into one of the most godforsaken ones, Dathomir. Everyone warned you of the planet. Apparently, the dark side of the force resided there strongly, and the residents who lived there were… not exactly the most welcoming. And guess what? Young and dumb you left your own planet out of curiosity, and now young and dumb you were going to be beheaded while down on your knees from a powerful Sith everyone feared. You didn’t know whether to start sobbing and begging for your life, or maybe in the heat of the moment, you could roll away and make a run for it.

…No, you knew that both of those would be futile. Maul could sense your fear, your anxiety. Could see it in those doe eyes peering up at him nervously. He almost pitied how pathetic you looked, but honestly, he couldn’t care less. It irritated him how weak and soft you looked. Didn’t you know Dathomir was filled with ruthless savages who wouldn’t think twice about taking advantage of a dumb thing like you? Obviously not. You seemed a bit airheaded to him.

“You’re a daft one, aren’t you?” The tattooed Dathomirian crooned down at you, cocking his head to the side slightly. Excuse him? He then sighed, raising his lightsaber, holding it taut and ready to strike at you without any mercy. Immediately, a choked gasp left you, and your eyes widened in horror, before, without thinking, you flung yourself onto the dust-covered ground before him. Bowing now. Like you were kneeling at an altar, your hands moving into a pleading position. How pathetic.

“Wait, w-wait-!” You stammered, lifting your eyes to look up at him from your place on the ground. “Please don’t kill me, I’ll do anything!” Wow, didn’t that come out desperate? This was cliche. “I- I know that sounds super desperate and cliche, but honestly, I don’t really care–” bold for someone who was face to face with a Sith. “You can just take me in, and I’ll- I dunno- I can, uhm, I can-” a click of his tongue was your breaking point, and just before he could bring down his weapon and plunge it into you, you flinched and shut your eyes tightly in fear. “I’ll be your slave-!” You cried out desperately, bracing yourself for the hot pain to tear through your flesh, but it never came. Your heart was banging against your ribcage, and cold sweat dripped down your body, eyes clenched so tightly you started to feel a tad lightheaded. Then, a marred hand came down and rooted itself in your hair, before tugging you up so you were back sitting up straight. A small yelp left you at the action.

“...Look at me, girl. Open your eyes.” Maul demanded, and you complied, opening your eyes to stare at him warily. The Sith regarded you intensely, sizing you up, a hint of interest present on his stone cold face. “My slave? For your life, in return, you’d agree to be my slave? A slave to a Sith?” He sneered, tone almost sardonic. Like he found the idea funny. In all honesty, being a slave to a Sith was worse than death. Regardless, however, you bobbed your head up and down, swallowing down your fear and nervousness. “Yes sir,” you agreed in a shaky murmur. He looked you up and down once more, before a twisted grin of cruelness split on his lips. “I believe that can be arranged.” He droned, before tugging you up on your feet by your hair.

The good thing was that you escaped partially unscathed with your life. The bad thing? Your life was in the hands of Darth Maul himself, and he didn’t come with the title ‘gentle.’ And you were a fragile little thing.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Your hands were worked raw at this point. Your body aches everywhere, and you haven't slept a wink ever since Maul took you in. He was high maintenance. Your tasks were to fix his ship whenever he spotted something wrong with it, to clean every nook and cranny inside of it too, he wanted you to take apart his lightsaber, clean it, and then piece it back together. With no safety gear, mind you. The tasks were dangerous as they were tedious and difficult. But you knew better than to complain. You wouldn’t. If this was your life from now on, then so be it.

He didn’t really talk to you. Not unless it was about your chores. “Have you finished the floors, pet?” He’d ask, giving you a condescending smile. And you’d nod, and straighten your back, and it’d give a small pop. “Good. Now, do the windows, I need you to make the beds and sweep, and do not forget to make the bunks and clean all the rooms.” He’d remind you, despite it being the unholy hours of the morning and you’ve been awake the entire day and night before.

Weeks passed, and weeks turned into months with him. You had gotten used to barely getting any sleep, you were used to not eating that much, not needing him to tell you what he wanted and when he wanted it. You had completely memorized everything.

As of late, however, your tasks have become well… more, domestic. Maul had entrusted you with cooking his meals, with his eyes on you of course, just so you didn’t try to sneak anything in it, you started to wash his robes, he liked when you filed his nails and his horns from time to time. It confused you, why your tasks were getting easier and less harsh each day. It was as if he was… giving you a break, for your weary body. But then he started to feed you, too. Allowed you to eat and sleep, to regain your nutrition. A part of you thought that maybe it was a trick, to give you a false sense of security. But another part, a more trusting and altruistic part, believed that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t all that of a sadistic Sith that most people believed him to be. You knew that was just your heart talking, not your mind. He didn’t care. Not one bit.

And that’s when you started to realize. This Sith, this Nightbrother, Darth Maul, was starting to lower his guard around you. It made sense, really. You weren’t a Separatist or one of the Republic. Just a citizen. A mere stranger on the side-lines. You posed no threat. That’s why you were here currently, his hand in yours as you delicately held his fingers while filing down his nails. Sharp, how he liked them, but short. He insisted that when he grew his nails out, although it was beneficial, he didn’t like the grime that collected underneath. He sat on his throne, legs spread, one bent at the knee with his foot on the seat, and the other down on the floor. His eyes were downcast, flickering across the words in his book. You were sat next to the arm of his chair, only sometimes glancing up to look up at him or peeking at his book. His expression was soft, softer than it ever really was. He always had that look while reading. Where the scrunch of his nose smoothed out, the way the corners of his lips that were usually naturally tugged down evened out into a soft line, and his eyes were less clouded over.

“It’s rude to stare, pet.” Oh. Immediately, you snapped out of your daze, clearing your throat. “Sorry.” You mumbled, eyes falling back down to his nails. He didn’t look up at you when he said that, still reading, but once you looked back down, his eyes slowly fixed on you. A soft huff left from his nostrils, and he looked to where your small hands were on his. Your soft palm against his rough one, the way you held his fingers so gently. It made him sick. Like he wanted to curl away from you. But it also made him want to relax. He then resumed to look back at his book, but not before posing a question. “...would you like to know what I am reading, girl?” He asked softly. He always was soft-spoken towards you. At least, nowadays. Scaring you and putting fear in you became less entertaining for him. You hummed and stared up at him quizzically, before nodding shyly. As if you were flustered at his offer. Another huff. “I am reading poetry. I find it most interesting… I enjoy how it is like a puzzle. Something to figure out. Yet, the feeling is expressed so vividly and clearly. It is just so easily looked over sometimes.” He explained in a quiet voice. You were surprised at how open and attentive he was to the book, and how pleased he seemed to be to share it with you.

The life of a Sith was as dangerous as it was evil. The one thing that people never mentioned about taking that path, however, was how lonely it was.

“You like poetry, Maul?” You questioned, tilting your head a little while he blew on his fingers to rid of the dust that was his keratin. He gave a small hum of agreement. “I do. Very much so.” He affirmed. And then you gave him a faint smile, a quirk of your lips, and in return, his expression turned a little wary. “Me too,” you admitted. That made Maul relax once more. It was silent for a moment, before he spoke up. “If you would like, I could read out loud to you.” He offered. That made you pause, a look of surprise growing on your face, before you nodded, giving him another smile.

“Yes, please.”

When he opened his mouth and started reading out loud, you tried to focus on his words, you really did, but you couldn’t help but be distracted, watching how his lips moved to form his words, how his voice was so smooth. He was softer. He was less violent towards you. He was reading to you. The way your heartbeat quickened is where you started to slowly become more aware of your thoughts. And also became aware of what was happening.

No. No, that couldn’t be, he was your captor! You should hate him! …So why did you feel so safe with him? Why did he make you smile? Why did he make you care? You shouldn’t care for him, not when he almost took your life. But he didn’t, your heart cried out. He’s lonely, your heart defended. There’s a reason for that, your mind retorted. He’s a Sith. Sith can’t love. He can’t love. So your heart and your mind were at war with each other, and you yourself were gazing at Maul in uncertainty. In the end, your heart won. He can be good. I know he can.

You couldn’t fix him, no. But you could at least try to be there for him.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Today, Maul came back to the temple tense. There were multiple lines on his forehead from frowning, his breathing was coming out in harsh huffs, and his lips were twisted into a nasty frown. He was muttering under his breath, words quick and indecipherable. He was rambling incoherently under his breath, before collapsing on his throne, one hand moved to his head, fingers moving to grip ahold of one of his horns, while the other slid down to cup at his jaw, before holding the side of his neck. He was hunched over, slightly rocking back and forth in his chair.

You exited your chambers to greet him when you heard him come back, but seeing him break down like this made your heart fall to your stomach. “Maul-?” You called out in concern, padding to his side quickly, brows furrowed in concern and eyes showing nothing but care and worry. “What’s wrong-?” You tried asking, but he just continued to whisper under his breath. He looked like he couldn’t even see you. Slowly, in confusion, you sank down into a crouch. “...Maul?”

When he didn’t answer, you carefully reached out a hand to him. Your finger brushed against his wrist. Brushing against his wrist gently, a feather-light touch. Barely, but that’s all he needed. Like a spider when it feels that single movement in its web, he lunged forwards to you, shoving you off balance.

You yelped in shock, being shoved off balance and almost tumbling backwards, before feeling your throat tighten. Your air was being cut off, and there seemed to be some invisible pressure around your neck that lifted you off your feet to where you hovered above the ground. You let out a strangled cry of his name, hands moving to claw at your throat despite nothing being there. He walked toward you, and each step he took, you were pushed backwards by the force, his lips twisted into a snarl, teeth bared and right hand extended with his palm facing towards you. He growled at you, a guttural sound, and it sounded so pained. He looked at you as if he didn’t know you. Your lips trembled, and you felt yourself getting lightheaded. “Maul—” you gasped out.

“You’re– ack– you’re hurting me—”

And just like that, all that fear and hate and anger left his eyes, leaving a confused awareness. His arm dropped, and he took a shuddering breath as he fell to the floor, choking and gasping for air, gulping it down greedily. Your hand moved to gently prod at your throat that felt bruised now, eyes moving to look up at him in a fearful and confused question. A hint of regret and shame flickered in yellow orbs, but as quickly as it was put there, it left. A frustrated shout left him, and he whipped away from you, fleeing the temple quickly, leaving you alone on the floor confused and hurt.

Questions flooded your mind. The most prominent one being why? Why would he do that? Why’d that happen? Why’d he leave? Or, what, happened?

Maul himself had to leave the temple. Move outside and just take a walk, kicking up the sand beneath his boots. That simple brush of your fingertips to his wrist made him want to hide. And when he didn’t want to hide, he wanted to bite. Words could not explain how when you made contact with his skin, it burned. Made him recoil away from you, but Sith do not recoil and curl away, no, they fight. So that’s exactly what he did.

It was encouraged, you should’ve known your place and never decided to get close to him in the first place, it was your fault. You were nothing but his slave, that was it. …So why did he feel bad? Why did he have that sudden sting in not one, but all three of his hearts? He was growing too soft. That was the problem. He was actually starting to relax around you.

Maul gritted his teeth in anger, head shaking in disbelief. This was all a part of your plan, wasn’t it? You were tricking him– yes, that was it! You were trying to trick him to lower his guard around you, so you could take advantage of him! That was the only reason. That made the Zabrak let out a deep sigh of relief. Yes, that was it. You were a small, dumb thing, but Maul had to applaud you for being so bold and more cunning than he gave you credit for.

…Yet, at the same time, he had entrusted you with cooking for him, even going as far to not watch you. If you had planned to escape him, wouldn’t you have tried to poison him the moment he took his gaze off you? Maybe kill him in his sleep? You could’ve impaled him whenever you desired while filing his horns, but you never did. You weren’t malicious, not one bit. Not even violent. Maul almost thought that maybe you were incapable of feeling such things as hatred or anger. You couldn’t harm a fly. Literally. He’s witnessed it. Despite flinching and almost running away when you first saw it, it didn’t stop you from running around in the temple trying to catch it inside your cupped hands before releasing it outside. The entire time, he had watched with a slightly baffled expression, eyes wide and brow ridges furrowed, once quirked up with parted lips.

He spared you from the fact that the minute you released the small insect outside and walked away from the window it got eaten by a small reptile. He’d hate for you to be whining about it, he could imagine how much of a nuisance that’d be.

Or maybe he was sparing himself the fact that he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to be upset about it.

That made Maul freeze where he was sitting atop of a small boulder, eyes widening. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed having your presence around. He enjoyed you. He liked how you would let him read to you, how you would cater to him so gently, how you were softening around him. You were making him feel something.

You made him feel less of a burden on his shoulders. Released some of that darkness inside of him. You made him feel warm, soft. And Maul, oh, he hated that. He hated the way you made him feel. Maybe it was just temporary, though. It would pass, surely.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

When Maul got home that night, he was quiet. He ignored you for the first couple of hours, not sure how to interact with you after his actions. You would glance at him in concern, not fear. You were worried, he could see that. He hated how you didn’t look at him in fear like how you should, he just strangled you! It annoyed him, made him feel that same weird pang in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. Neither did you, not wanting to set him off again. That silence lasted until when you were about to retire into your chambers. Before you could, though, Maul called after you.

“Pet.”

Your head perked up and you looked over to him, a small nervous look on your face which made him want to grimace. He pointed to the space in front of him, looking at you expectantly. “Come here.” He demanded. Tentatively, you approached him, until you stood in front of him while he sat. The Nightbrother made a soft grunt, before beckoning you even more down. “Kneel. I do not bite.” He said in a tone of annoyance. Liar.

However, you cooperated, moving down on one knee so you were looking up at him, his knees on either side of your face. With a curled finger, he made you sit up slightly, before leaning down so he was face to face with you. His eyes flickered down to your throat, seeing the slight bruising there and redness of where all the pressure had been. Then, silently, he reached inside of his robes and pulled out a thick plant, (that he collected on his way back to the temple), breaking it in half while keeping his eyes on your neck. A slimy string connected the two broken halves, but Maul made no movement to swipe it up. Instead, with the tip of his finger, his claw poking into the supple and sensitive flesh of your throat, he tilted your face up so your throat was bared to him. He peeled the plant of its skin, only the clear and slimy flesh left, before scraping the gooey slick off it, and picking it up. It dripped from his hands, and he placed the cool slimy gel on the bruises. It was wet, and kissed your skin, dribbling down and sending a shudder down your spine from the coolness. Once he was done applying it, he looked at his now slimy and sticky hands distastefully, and wiped them on his pants legs. But then he pulled his lightsaber out, igniting it. Immediately, you flinched backwards, brows knitting together, but Maul stopped with you by placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Calm yourself, star,” oh, that was a new one. You couldn’t help the way it made your heart flutter. You wondered why he decided to call you that. “I have no intention of killing you. I would’ve done so already if I did.” He reassured, if you can even call it that, just letting the lightsaber hover near your skin so the heat of the saber could warm the area. “Oh.” You relaxed, breath evening out. “Heat helps get rid of bruises.” He explained, and you nodded. He was taking care of you, you realized. It was a silent apology. A way to make up for it.

Was it bad that it made you love him even more?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next couple of weeks passed by quickly. You were growing bolder each day. Maul soon came to the realization that if he got you talking, you’d never shut up. You were treating him like a friend. And with the title of friend, comes the affection. In the beginning, you’d be scared about it. Maybe an accidental brush against him, and he would immediately whip towards you, teeth bared and snarling at you. A silent but expressive and aggressive don’t touch me.

You didn’t listen, though. Not to purposefully try him, no, sometimes it really was an accident, and others you just weren’t really thinking about it. Soon, snarls and growls turned into flinches and grimaces, until it turned into tensing, and now, he would just let it happen. He wouldn’t shove you away. He would just glance at where you were touching, and move on with whatever he was doing. That made you happy. He was comfortable around you. And that made you happy. You know what else it made you? Made you feel closer to him even more.

There was no use in hiding how your relationship with the Sith was definitely not fearful like how it was in the beginning, and your feelings definitely weren’t what a ‘slave’ should be feeling. Of course, you were ashamed of it at first, but after realizing he really wasn’t a bad person, and just did many bad things, it made you accept it. He was hurt, and he was angry and hateful. And he was lonely.

In return, it was no secret how Maul was softening up to you too. Allowing your touches, listening to you talk, he even smiled at you. Multiple times. Not those mean ones either, a genuine smile. Not to mention the couple of more sweet terms of endearment that escaped his lips whenever he really was relaxed and not thinking.

You supposed that’s what led you here, now. It was dark outside, all the close by planets and stars visible from where you and Maul sat. He had found you stargazing, and decided to join you. He didn’t quite understand why you were so enthralled by them when it’s something you see everyday, but you were like that. You just loved life. He almost envied you, because he didn’t understand it.

“I don’t understand why you look up there like it isn’t something you see everyday.” He commented suddenly, making you let out a soft chuckle.

“They’re pretty. I just can’t get enough of it.” You responded with a shrug, and that made an amused hum leave him. “You never fail to confuse me.” He muttered under your breath, and you turned to smile at him. “But ain’t that the nice part? Means you’ll always be surprised by me, and it’s like a big puzzle. You like puzzles, Maul.” He sighed deeply, and shook his head. “I resent you, sometimes.” He said, but it was a lie. He didn’t mean that.

But it made your smile soften, and your heart tighten.

“I love you.”

And those words escaped you before you could stop them. Maul froze, and so did you. You were about to stammer out an excuse, but it was far too late. Maul didn’t look at you, and you couldn’t tell whether he was angry or shocked.

“...You what?” He whispered. You could lie, but there was no point in that. He’s already heard you, and there was no going back now. Swallowing, and clenching your hands, you took a deep breath, before repeating yourself. “I… I love you.” You said in a hushed tone. And he tensed, claws digging into his pants legs. “No, you don’t.” A whisper.

“What-? Yes, I do—”

“No, you don’t.” More firmer this time. Okay, now you weren’t scared, you were just concerned. Why was he denying this? “Maul, I do–”

“No, you don’t!” He finally shouted, standing up and seething at you, shaking his head. “You don’t love me! You don’t, you don’t, you don’t!” He screamed at you in fury, trembling. You looked at him with hurt and disbelief, getting up with him, but as you did, he started to pace away from you back to the temple. “Maul, no! Why-? What do you mean-?” You questioned, not understanding why he was so upset with you as you ran after him. But then, a guttural growl which borderlined a gritted noise of pain escaped his throat, and he turned around and shoved you to the floor, chest heaving. “Do not speak.” He spat out venomously. “I’ve heard enough.”

And that was the last thing he said to you before disappearing from the temple, slamming the doors shut as he left you. You laid there on the floor, bewildered, before standing up on shaky legs and stumbling to open them. “Maul-?” You called out, eyes flickering around to find any sign of where he went, but you found none. “Maul! I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” You cried out, hoping that maybe he’d come back if he heard you. “Please come back!” And yet he never did. The only response you got was some chitters of the nightlife and a small breeze that made you feel even colder.

The next few days, you were left at the temple alone. You’d frequently look back towards the doors whenever you heard the slightest noise from outside, hoping that maybe it was Maul returning just like how he always does, but it was always just the wind or a little critter. You’d wake up early in the mornings to go and check his quarters only to find yourself being disappointed that he didn’t decide to come back the night before, and during the evenings, you’d still cook food for two despite it just being you, and unsure of what to do with the leftovers afterwards, and at night? That was the worst. You would move to sit outside of the temple, on its stairs, waiting for him to come home, or at least, what felt like home. Not anymore. Not without him in it.

This cycle repeated itself over and over again, every day, with no trace of him. At this point, you were starting to actually believe he had… abandoned you. All because you said, ‘I love you?’ You guessed so.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Finally, after days of desertion, he returned. You were overjoyed, bounding up to him and going in for a hug, which he begrudgingly accepted but stayed silent nonetheless. You cooked for the both of you and tended to him eagerly, but the both of you never dared mention your little confession. Thankfully, at least he still accepted your affection. So it wasn’t like you guys had to start back at base one. In brutal honesty, ever since that happened, you felt as if you had to start walking on eggshells whenever around him. Anything could set him off, and you didn’t want that. Not after what you had seen, what he did. You didn’t want that.

Though, you did recognize that ever since he came back, he was more… tender, if you could put it that way. He read to you more often, and invited you to sit with him whenever he sat somewhere. So it wasn’t all that bad. And you started to get more comfortable with him again, and vice versa.

And soon that led to the both of you sleeping in the same bed.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what you guys were. Definitely not just acquaintances, and you definitely weren’t just a slave to him, you were something more, but what? It was quite obvious you were harboring a huge affection for him, with him harboring an affection towards you, but he never brought it up. So neither did you. But, you’d suppose you’d go under the title of lovers, finally. Or, well, partial lovers. He’d still have his moments, and push you away, and sure, it hurt, but you knew not to take it to heart. He was still getting used to it. So, it wasn’t that much of a surprise when he suddenly was faced away from you, the breakfast that you made him, that he asked for shoved away from him, a cold look of disdain on his face.

Oh. Okay.

“Are you not… hungry, anymore?” You asked quietly. The Sith shook his head, lips twisting as he took a deep breath in. “I don’t want it.” He stated. Your fingers curled into your palms nervously and you nodded. “Do you want me to save it just in case you do feel hungry later—?” “Get rid of it. I don’t want it.” He repeated, more firmly this time, hardening his stare to you. Immediately, you grabbed his plate, a small noise of agreement leaving you as you sighed softly. Once you left the room, Maul settled back in the bed, trying to relax, but seeing that disappointed and tired look on your face hurt him. He knew it was hard for you. He knew you didn’t deserve this. Not in the slightest.

Truth be told, Maul knew exactly how he was affecting you. During the night, when you thought you were being quiet and careful of not waking him, he could hear the small sniffles escaping you and the shaking of your shoulders. He saw how your face would fall when you noticed how he was switching up again. He could feel your hurt. And he’s never hated himself more.

Curling in on himself, Maul buried his face into his hands. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve him. He didn’t deserve you. His hearts tightened, and his hands gripped his sides tightly, claws most likely digging into his tattooed flesh. He didn’t deserve you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Oh, no, hey, hey, hey, Maul…” You called out his name softly, gently pulling him to you and cradling him to your chest as sobs wracked his body. Ugly sobs. He clung to you tightly as he cried. He was definitely having one of his moments. “It’s okay, s’okay, I’m here, s’okay…” you comforted, rocking him soothingly. He seemed like nothing more than a child who was lost and had no idea what he was doing while in his arms.

“It’s not okay, it’s not okay, not okay, never okay–” he uttered under his breath over and over again, voice thick with tears and trembling. You cooed to him and held him even closer to you. “It is,” you assured. “We’re okay.” And not knowing what else to say, you said the same words he never echoed back, the ones that made him shove you away and shut down.

“I love you.”

He froze in your arms, sobs dying down, but he didn’t shove you away or shut down like usual. “...It’ll pass.” He responded quietly. Your heart broke for the broken Sith, and you shook your head. “No, it won’t. I love you, Maul. I do.”

“You don’t. You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.”

“Why?” He finally asked, pulling away from you with puffy and teary eyes, nose scrunched up and lips twisted into a frown. “Why do you love someone like me? I tortured you. I almost killed you. I’ve abandoned you. You shouldn’t love me.” He explained, tone slowly evening out.

“I’ve forgiven that. I’ve forgiven all of that-” you responded, but he cut you off, voice almost flat.

“I hate you.”

…What?

Your eyes widened, and your heart dropped to your stomach. Surely not, right? He didn’t mean that. Maybe he– maybe you misheard him?

“I hate you.” He repeated, voice hollow. “I hate how caring you are. I hate how you treat me so gently. I hate how you act. I hate that you love me. I hate that I care for you. I hate that you make me feel so bad. I hate you.”

Oh, but hate is so close to love.

“You should just leave.” He stated, not even batting an eye at his own words. You forced back the tears that threatened to prick at your eyes and shook your head. “You— you don’t mean that. You’re just saying that-” you basically tried to convince yourself, eyes tracing his face for any lie or deceit to tell you that he didn’t mean it. You couldn’t find anything. His face was blank. Like he was on autopilot or something.

And he was. Right now, it was his insecurity talking. In reality, what he wanted to say was I’m sorry you have to deal with me. What he meant when he said he hated you was that he loved you. He was angry with you because you weren’t angry with him. He wanted you to hurt him, yell at him, get mad, because that’s how he felt for himself. He just didn’t understand why you didn’t feel the same way. You were the victim after all. He didn’t want to taint you any more than he already has. You were a young thing, a sweet thing. And Maul was an old, rugged, and cruel and unfeeling, broken bastard. He couldn’t burden you with that.

“Just leave!” He finally shouted. “I don’t want you here! It was better when you were gone– I was better off without you!” He screamed at you, trying to push you away, because he loved you. It was for your own good.

Slowly, you let go of him, hurt written all over your face. You looked as if you didn’t know what to do, you didn’t. Because how are you supposed to respond to that when it was the man whom you loved yelling it at you? But he said it’d be better, right? That he rather that? So, swallowing dryly, you gave a tiny, imperceivable nod and slid away from him.

Oh.

Oh- you were actually leaving-?!

He’d pushed you too far this time, he was too mean, he said too much–

“W-wait, where are you going?” He asked, sitting up and looking at you with wide eyes. “Leaving.” You responded quietly, standing up from the bed, and he immediately grabbed for your wrist, pulling you back. “I didn’t mean it, I swear, I didn’t–” he started to ramble, and you tried tearing yourself from his grip.

“Let me go, Maul! You can’t just take that back, you’ve already said what you said, now let me go-!” He should, shouldn’t he? He didn’t deserve you, you didn’t deserve him, he was being selfish. But couldn’t he? Couldn’t he be selfish? Just this once? He’d already lost so much. He couldn’t lose you too. Not from over those stupid, ugly words that left his lips in a fit of insecurity.

Holding you to him, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, embracing you to him like he was losing you, because he was. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, darling, please-” he pleaded, feeling you writhing against him and hearing your protests. It absolutely broke his hearts. As if to make up for it and convey silent apologies, he started pressing soft and fluttering kisses to the skin of your shoulder and neck in whispered apologies, mumbling his regret and shame through each kiss.

“Maul, please.” You finally choked out, falling limp against him and just weakly pressing your palms to his chest. “You don’t love me, you don’t. Let me leave.” You begged, and he shook his head, nuzzling into you even more and taking a shuddering breath. “No, no, that’s not true, darling, I- I do– I just- you don’t deserve me, I don’t deserve you, and I was just hurting you and I–”

It was all coming out now. The guilt. The pain. The insecurity. The self-loathing. The love.

Your eyes slowly softened, and you relaxed against him, understanding now. “I love you.” He finally choked out, cupping your face in his hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, that I couldn’t, but know now, I love you. I’ve never hated you. I don’t. And by the Force, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t.”

And you cried. You cried in his arms, like the many times he cried in yours. And he pressed your foreheads together, cradling you like you were glass while pressing kisses to your face to prove to you he really was telling you the truth. Because nothing scared him more than the thought of losing you.

After all, hate is so close to love.

[dilanisfruity]

here’s a super short little drabble i wrote really quick, while i finish up the first chapter of my next fic 💗

nsfw warning ‼️

thinking about possessive billie shutting you up when you’re acting bratty at a party. you wanted attention and instead of asking for it you started acting out and trying to make billie jealous, hoping she would give in and give you the attention you so desperately wanted. you think you’re winning the battle for dominance until you say that one last thing that makes billie snap.

“i wonder what she’s like in bed, she seemed pretty dominant when we talked.” you said, looking at some random girl, pretending to be interested in her in hopes of riling billie up. and it worked, well kind of? billie wasn’t just riled up, she was pissed and she was gonna make you regret talking about any other girl like that.

grabbing your chin roughly and turning you to face her, billie leaned in to your ear, her breath hot on your face as she (not so quietly) whispered, “god you’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you? i don’t fuck you for a few days and you turn into a whore, wearing this slutty little outfit hoping someone will fuck you. pathetic.”

you shuddered at her words, feeling embarrassed not just from her degrading comments but also because those comments were going straight to your core, your lacy panties getting soaked. as she pulled back and looked in your eyes you tried to get words out but she stopped you, her thumb over your mouth. “mm sluts like you don’t get to speak, do you?” as your mouth fell slightly open, billie was quick to slip her thumb into your mouth, a moan slipping out as your lips wrapped around her finger quickly, welcoming her into your mouth.

billie looked down at you shamelessly sucking on her finger in the middle of a room full of well-known people. you were a bit of an attention whore so you acted out on occasion, but it never took long for her to get you listening again. as you continued sucking on her thumb, she noticed your eyes glazing over, that ever-so-familiar look on your face. you were ready to do whatever she asked to get her to touch you, desperate to feel her warm touch on your body.

she left her thumb in your mouth for a few seconds longer, savoring the image of you staring up at her with glossy eyes while you sucked on her finger like it was the only thing your little slutty brain knew how to do. but regardless of how beautiful you looked like this, all dumb and fucked out for her over the littlest touch, she wasn’t gonna let you win. so she abruptly pulled her finger out of your mouth and brought her thumb to her mouth, sucking your spit off her finger, wiping her hand off on her baggy shirt afterwards.

you whimpered slightly at the loss of her finger, trying to reach for her to get her hands back on you, but she stopped you. “maybe if you’d been good instead of acting like a brat i would take you to one of those empty rooms and fuck you dumb. but you chose to not listen.” billie spat out, and you tried to argue back and to convince her to just touch you again, but she stopped you before you could even get a word out. “remember what i said? sluts like you don’t get to speak.” she paused for just a moment, looking around the room, “grab your bag, we’re leaving. now.”

you quickly grabbed your things and followed her out of the party, quietly walking beside her as she said her goodbyes to friends. you thought about trying to apologize but you knew better at this point. so you stayed silent and waited to find out how billie was going to punish you for your behavior this time, feeling a bit scared and more than anything, turned on thinking of what she might do to you.

you were in for it now.

[ivorydragoncat]

So I just absolutely flubbed my first Rain World playthrough. This is a cautionary tale on what NOT to do when you reach Looks to the Moon in Rain World. Read on and learn, for those who have yet to complete the base game.

Rain World Survivor Campaign spoilers (obv.) as well as major cringing at complete ineptness below. I apologise for my transgressions and I shall endeavour to please our Big Sis Moon in the future, I promise.

Everything was going dandy, it's 3am and I just got to Moon after hours of grinding away at shoreline. I, wanting so bad to get to rest, naively thought "Wow, I've finally made it to a big milestone in the Campaign! I'm not even sure there is more to it than this, what if I actually beat the game!". Boy oh boy was I in for a session and a half...

At first, I was so confused. I was pressing buttons to try to interact with her - tried pressing the pick-up button. Seemed like nothing happened. But I didn't realise that I grabbed a neuron-fly, then did not realise she tried to tell me to not eat it, so I kept holding pick-up to maybe get to interact and... Ate the neuron fly -_-

Guess what. I then grabbed another by accident as I kept pressing pickup and then realised a fly was gone. In a moment of 3am complete ineptness I thought I had stored the neuron thing in my stomach - didn't notice my hunger pip go up at first. So I yried getting the first one out, by holding the pick-up button - and ate the second one I was holding.

Overseer got mad at me and kept telling me to not do that, a big X over an image of me signaling they weren't gonna help me anymore. I was still being dumb however. I thought it was signaling for me to not be here anymore, and since the image it showed was of me laying down, I thought it was telling me I needed to go hibernate to progress further... so I did. Saving the game. With 2 neuron flies eaten, permanently scaring my relationship with Moon and making the overseer abandon me, forcing me to rely on those spirit-things.

And to top it all off... in hibernation I saw I had unlocked the fast travel option as I had completed "the survivor" passage. I was confounded as to why I would want to go anywhere I had already been, but having entered the menu I didn't know how to go back, so I set it to start me right where I already was cause I was so obsessed with not "loosing progress". So I wasted my first passage token.

Of course, after realising it was just one time use I panicked and looked up how to get more and was pleased to hear it would not be that hard. I also looked up where I should go next, surrendering to spoilers, cause wtf am I supposed to do if playing it blind makes me do shit like this.

I genuinely feel SO BAD for what I did to Moon, I wish I could talk to her in person and apologise profusely and hug her and promise as many neuron flies as she wanted. Goddammit.

So... now I'm just sad that I absolutely bungled my first playthrough... still gonna complete the game and play the other characters, but damn. What a flop.

Moral of the story. Uh. Don't be me? Maybe don't just recklessly press buttons when you don't know what to do... yeah...

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I am genuinely surprised that the lists of dumb zvtara takes don't include the "change Zuko for Sokka in the lightning scene and it will start looking incestuous". Because it's like, one of the dumbest things they say.

Canon cases of Sokka protecting Katara:

Sokka protecting Katara from falling into a freezing sea after SHE broke the iceberg: https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/101/images/avatar-the-last-airbender1x01_0289.jpg https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/101/images/avatar-the-last-airbender1x01_0299.jpg

Sokka shielding Katara with his body from whatever sits in this round piece of ice that SHE broke open: https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/101/images/avatar-the-last-airbender1x01_0455.jpg

Sokka shielding Katara with his body while a freaking AVATAR is destroying the temple: https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/108/images/avatar-the-last-airbender1x08_1519.jpg

Sokka attacking another AVATAR who dared to burn Katara (and then he will also blame the legendary firebender who is able to incinerate Sokka in seconds if being pissed): https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/116/images/avatar-the-last-airbender1x16_1169.jpg

Sokka jumping in front of Katara to scare away the wolf-bat: https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/202/images/avatar-the-last-airbender2x02_0837.jpg

Sokka shielding Katara with his body to protect her from the third AVATAR (twice this episode): https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/205/images/avatar-the-last-airbender2x05_1337.jpg

Sokka attacking the goddamn SPIRIT to protect Katara: https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/210/images/avatar-the-last-airbender2x10_1588.jpg

Sokka jumping in front of Katara to protect her from angry villagers: https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/303/images/avatar3x03_1424.jpg

Sokka shielding Katara with his body during the attack of an almost invincible combustionbender: https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/cap-that.com/tv/avatar/312/images/avatar3x12_1119.jpg

So, apparently, this all is fine, a normal sibling relationship. But imagine Sokka protecting Katara by jumping between her and a lightning... and THIS will look incestous... because a normal brother will ONLY do this for his sister if he wants to fuck her... right?

rIGHT, ZVTARIANS?

Zutarians LOVE insisting that any moment between Zuko and Katara MUST be inherently romantic in nature. It doesn't matter if they're talking about a hug, a big sacrifice, a fight, saying hello to each other, sitting next to each other while having lunch with their friends, teaming up during a fight, it WILL be talked about like it's something only love interest could do, even if we have tons of exemples of them doing all of those things with other characters that they don't have any kind of romantic feelings for.

And it would have been fine for them LIKE those moments and want to interpret them with shipper goggles, or adding them to their fanfics, or making fanart of it. But they are not happy with that. They need EVERYONE to look at it the same way the do - and as a bonus, expect those minor things to replace explicitly romantic moment between Katara and Aang, or Mai and Zuko.

[granolawriting]

New things ☆ ° *

pairing: Platonic Jedi!reader x Jedi Anakin

Summary: Anakin spent his young days as either a slave or "the chosen one". Never having the opportunity to really celebrate the holidays, you explain to him a celebration on your own planet for the fall season

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

A/N: This was literally so much fun to write, I really like writing anakins banter with the reader, and overall just the stupid things he'd say in my own interpritation of his character off the battle feild. I hope you enjoy!! This is the 3rd installment for my kinktober list, Make sure if you like my work to check out my requests/comissions or my ko-fi!!!

“I feel dumb. Are you sure you’re not pulling one over on me?” 

Anakin stares with inquisitive intent at the pumpkin you laid before him. Sat upon a steel counter of the kitchen within your room in the Jedi temple. Tossed on a small ottoman in the middle of your home was a bag full of ingredients for baking, holodramas of sith legends, and most importantly, the means for cutting up the pumpkins that sat before you and Anakin. 

“Dude, I lived it and you didn't. Either you can trust me and stab the pumpkin, or you can forever live in a non-holiday spirit.” 

“I just can't imagine that this actually got popular. What’s the meaning behind this?”

“Yaknow, this was initially made to scare away the sith ghosts that would roam the halls at night on the night before halloween.” 

“That's total bull. I don't think this would scare a 5 year old.” 

“You haven't even cut into it yet!” 

Anakin holds up the traceable mold that came with the package of serrated knives and spoons, triangle eyes and comically sharp teeth. 

“I don't have to to know that if a youngling saw this, they would start laughing at me.” 

You snatch it away from him teasingly, a melodramatic face of anger contorting upon you, 

“Well then, it seems like they have no holiday spirit either! Pay them no mind. There are those who get it, and those who don't!” 

“Whatever. Just hand me the knife.” 

“You don't even know what to do!” 

Thus the first activity begins, detailing the two of you slowly cutting into pumpkins while a music box softly plays soundtracks of scary films from your childhood. Demonstrating to Anakin exactly how to cut into a pumpkin with less than graceful precision, 

“You don't know what you’re doing.”

“Shut up! It's been a while.” 

And as the top finally pops off of the head of the pumpkin, you and him rejoice in quite a small victory. Though the excitement upon his face only lasts a moment, because as he watches you delve elbow deep within the inside of the pumpkin, horror shocks him stiff. 

“What the fuck are you doing.” 

Eyes widened at the prospect of having to do that himself. 

“What? Big scary Jedi doesn't like getting his hands dirty?” 

Teasing inflection coats your voice at the sight of his distress.

“This is just disgusting! I don't mind getting dirty if it's not slimy shit all over my body.” 

“Well, I suggest you take off that fancy robe.” 

Exasperated sigh exits him with great dramatic flair, as he walks over to the living room to slowly disrobe as to take in his last seconds of cleanliness before his agreeance to engage in your home planet festivities weighs more and more on him like one of the worst decisions he’s ever made in his whole life. 

Slowly does he inch his fingers inside the pumpkin itself, and when he reaches the bottom eyes close and eyebrows contort upwards. 

“Stop looking like you’re about to die. It's a pumpkin not a dead tooka.” 

“Thanks for that image.” 

And so the two of you slowly scrape pumpkin into a larger bowl of insides between the both of you, melodramatic whines by Anakin that really bring out the kid in him. Anakin, despite being such a great warrior and chosen one, was still quite young. He never really had the ability to do childish things, growing up as a slave and thrusted into the jedi temple thereafter there was no room to be a kid-- do kid things. So that's what you focused on in your time with him. It consisted of helping him get in touch with who he really is, not who people exactly wanted him to be. And you bore through it, even if sometimes it meant feilding his complaints like a whining child who has to share their toys with other kids. When Anakin wasn't in the line of fire he was a simple, silly person. A boy, really. 

The moment his pumpkin was satisfactorily scraped, he runs to wash his arms under water and copious amounts of soap. 

“Oh, did you know people can be allergic to pumpkin?” 

“You’re kidding right.” 

“Yeah well I just hope you’re not.” 

“Could've told me that before I just violated it like that.” 

“Slipped my mind.”

After a bit more carving within the eyes and mouth of the hollow pumpkin, you adorn the iconic face of a halloween grin upon yours, and Anakin opting for a more sinister look upon his. 

“You said it was supposed to scare people, none of the designs has that effect.” 

Well Anakin, I think the most scary thing about this is how you cut it. I can barely tell what's going on here.” 

“You don't understand my vision. It's for the sith ghost, not you.” 

As the first activity of pumpkin cutting comes to an end, a small glow emitting within the pumpkins as you place the small glowing orb that completes every carving inside its center, you and Anakin stand back impressed with one another's work. 

“I guess it wasn't half bad.” 

“Told you” 

The next project you two had up against you was baking. Now, once again you were well convinced that Anakin had never cooked his own food his entire life. At least, anything complex. Whenever he had to make his own food it was often very simple, laced with struggle. The peak of his culinary journey was 5 years old, for reference. 

“Why do we need to put so many things in here? Aren't we making cookies?” 

“Yes, but to make it not taste like sand then we’re gonna have to add more flavors.” 

“Sand, very funny. What's with the paste?” 

“The icing?” 

“Whatever.” 

“It's for after the cookie. We’re going to decorate it.” 

“This seems like a lot of work for 2 bites.” 

“You eat them in 2 bites?” 

“I’ve got things to do.” 

And thus the teaching begins once more. You have to explain how to keep the wet from the dry until you’re willing to mix everything, teaching him how to crack an egg as he fails in the process getting residue all over your countertop. You show him how to whisk, watching him struggle with the thick batter as the automatic one you keep in your cabinet stays sadistically untouched. And as you two finally finish the batter, you show him how to put them on the sheets properly. 

“When you roll them, you have to remember they’re going to flatten and expand. Don't make them the size of a cookie, make them like a third of the size.” 

“But if I made it the size of a cookie, I could have a 3x cookie. Mathematically speaking.” 

“Yes, but don't do that. They’ll all stick together.” 

“To make one monster cookie?” 

“Theoretically yeah.” 

“Noted.” 

As he grabbed huge chunks of dough within the bowl you both shared, you just chose to pick your battles. 

Setting the timer for 40 minutes, there were now 40 minutes to kill before you were able to get to the next part of the process-- decorating. Looking within your bag of festivities you find the holodramas that lie at the bottom of the bag, reminiscent of your childhood. The exaggerated stories of siths and creatures of the outer rim that would haunt and stalk you, stories that scared you awake when you were younger. You allow Anakin to pick from a few of the titles. 

“Frankensith? The uh.. Friday before 429. The ewok in the woods. These all sound a little corny.” 

“Again, you don’t get it. But I promise you watching these things will freak you out. The ewok  one scared me so much I couldn't sleep for days afterwards.” 

“And how old were you when that happened?” 

“...fifteen.” 

“You’re joking. Put it on.” 

Dimming the sights of your living room do the both of you sink into the couch as you pull out the final thing that will stave you from hunger until the cookies are completed. 

“What's with the wrapping on these?” 

He pointed at the chocolate you unveiled, wrapped in various depictions of horror legends over the years.

“Isn't it scary?” 

“He looks like he has a lazy eye.” 

“He’s supposed to be undead!” 

“Yeah, and with all that reanimation they cut him a little short.” 

“That's mean!” 

“Nothing so far has scared me, and the candy definitely isn't much different.”

“Whatever.” 

The bowl sat between the two of you held various kinds of candy from chocolate to sower, as the movie slowly came to a head. Laid back and judgemental, did Anakin lie unbothered upon the couch, expecting nothing to really catch his eye about this film more than dumb special effects and poor acting. 

Though as time went on you watched as his body slowly straightened, eyes with greater focus on the projection as the story grew deeper. You saw his face contort from indifference, to morbid curiosity, to the well awaited fear. 

BEEP!

The oven goes off, which makes Anakin jump. 

“HAH! You’re scared shitless aren't you.”

“Are you kidding me? These things are freaky by nature. Their little swords.. Their agility. I couldn't live.” 

“Uh huh. Well get up we need to decorate the cookies.” 

After allowing them to cool for a moment you begin to teach him how to pipe the icing onto the cookies. However as you gaze upon his own tray, there seems to be about 3 discernable cookies to your 6 well shaped ones. 

“All this means is that I have more room for artistic expression than you.” 

“Right. Just watch what I do and you can make whatever you want.” 

And as you draw cute ghosts, small faces decorating each of their eyes and little bats and pumpkins to match their theme, another glance at Anakin's tray once again reminds you you’re dealing with a 10 year old. Upon his cookies did he design quite crude depictions of the ewok’s with angry expressions on their face, forever immortalized- until eaten of course -a glare of small and furry anger upon the cookie. 

“Nice Anakin.” 

The night came to a close after that, finishing the ewok holo with greater ease as the fear inhabiting Anakin slowly dissipated in the ability to eat them at the same time they were eating others in their traps. A dark sky fell within your room and as you sat there with Anakin, pumpkins illuminated with silly faces and a growing pile of colorful foil piling on your coffee table as the candy bowl depleted, you felt complete. The feeling of having not only someone to celebrate the holidays with, but someone to share them with made you feel a little less alone. And you knew Anakin felt the same. 

[ash5monster01]

Perfect To Love Part 5

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, angst, trust issues.

Summary: Beth Walker was used to living in the shadows. She had only one friend and anyone else who paid her mind usually bullied her for her size. So she learned to keep her mouth shut, her head down, and her heart closed because she had to accept the fact that she would be nothing more than the fat girl to people. That is until Robin decides Beth needs more in life and that might just include a boy who she never would’ve thought could see her for who she truly was.

word count: 2,387

Part 4 ←→ Part 6

Masterlist

It wasn’t often Steve and Dustin ended up alone these days. After they had become friends and Dustin started bringing around the party it just made sense to always do things as a big group. Yet every once in a while they’d get lucky and have time just the two of them. Today was one of those days since Mike went home early to call El and Lucas was taking Max to the movies to distract her from having to move into the trailer park. That meant Dustin was the only one that needed to be picked up from school today. Which also left Dustin alone with Steve since Robin was working a solo shift at Family Video tonight. He could finally hound the boy in private about his recent observations. Observations he had to keep to himself all weekend in anticipation of getting alone time with the guy.

“So how long have you been crushing on Beth?” Dustin leisurely asked after Steve had gotten done telling him about his most recent shift at Family Video. It was so smooth Steve didn’t even realized what he was asking for a moment.

“Since the party she-… Wait. You tricked me” Steve turned and glared, in disbelief he had fallen so quickly into Dustin’s trap. Loosening him up so he wouldn’t notice when he asked. He knew he should’ve been concerned when he asked about his day.

“Look I felt like skipping over the whole denial part and getting to the good stuff” Dustin offered, arms crossing over his chest.

“How’d you even know?” Steve asked, annoyed he had to explain himself to a child about a girl he wasn’t even sure what to do with. He had never dated girls like her, and that wasn’t meant to be conceived as bigger. Most girls he dated were dumb, ditzy, and had fried brain cells from too much aqua net. All of them were like that except Nancy and he totally screwed that one up anyway. On top of that, what was even the correct thing to say to her? Most times he tried to convince her of her beauty she just denied him. He didn’t want to lie to her but he wanted her to know she was worth as much as those other girls despite being different. That kind of line could get blurry.

“When you brought her to the movies with us. You did that thing where your ears turn red because she touched your arm and complimented you. It was funny. She likes you too” Steve’s eyes widened as Dustin spit this information out at him. He wished the boy didn’t notice everything all the damn time.

“She does not like me. She would’ve agreed to get food with me instead of sit through that horrible horror movie” Steve said referring to the second Nightmare on Elm Street they watched. He hadn’t even seen the first one and the only good thing about it was Beth leaning closer to him when she got scared.

“She only wanted to watch the movie cause you freaked out when Mike suggested you were going on a date with her” Dustin told him because it was true. No girl in the world wants to see the guy they like panic over the thought of dating them. Especially a girl like Beth that has only ever been hurt by men.

“Shit, I obviously didn’t mean it like that” Steve said hitting the steering wheel lightly.

“Yeah but she took it like that. I wouldn’t want to go and talk to a guy for two hours either after he made it clear he doesn’t want to date me” Dustin told him and Steve sighed, parking in front of Dustin’s house.

“Damnit, I just don’t know what to do with her. She’s different, obviously not in a bad way. I just have no idea how to approach the situation, she doesn’t believe me when I flirt with her. I have no idea how to get her to understand I want to kiss the shit out of her” Dustin snickered lightly as Steve admitted to this, not bothering hiding how he feels about the girl anymore in front of the boy.

“Where did all these feelings come from, you just met her?” Dustin asked, confused how one night could change everything.

“That night we went to the party we had a lot of fun, I was so comfortable talking to her. Plus she looked so good, like an angel. Then I caught Colin saying mean things to her and next thing I know I was punching him and claiming her as my own. When I heard those vile things he was saying I realized I wanted to protect her forever” Dustin looked at him with wide eyes, the first time he was hearing about Steve actually punching the guy.

“You punched him, and won?” Steve rolled his eyes and shoved the boy lightly to which Dustin just laughed.

“We left and she just broke down. Cried in my arms in the middle of the street and all I could think about was how many times she had cried because of that asshole and never had anyone to hold her” Steve finished his spiel and Dustin nodded, taking in all the information he had finally gotten from him.

“Makes sense why I haven’t seen Colin call her a mean name in a while. Actually I don’t think he’s even gone near her. I just assumed he got the black eye from football” Dustin told him, knowing him and the Hellfire Club usually had a front row seat to Colin’s bullying in the lunchroom.

“Good, means that asshole listened to me when I said to never go near her again” Steve seethed, already getting worked up about the guy. Where did Colin think he was getting off treating a girl like that?

“Look, just ask her on a date. Make it clear it’s actually a date this time too. Just move slow about it. You would probably scare her off going full King Steve” Dustin told him now reaching for his backpack.

“Okay, let me talk to Robin. If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you” Steve said pointing at him and Dustin rolled his eyes before pushing open his door.

“Whatever, you screw it up with Beth I’ll kill you” Dustin told him back, already feeling protective over the girl because he knew what it was like to be treated differently because of your looks. Steve shook his head as Dustin got out the vehicle and slammed the door back shut before heading inside.

Steve drove off, towards the direction of Family Video, prepared to talk off Robins ear in hopes of getting advice about the girl. That was the plan until he pulled up outside of Family Video just to see the blue corvette parked outside. It was freshly washed, glimmering in the soft light of the autumn sun. He realized pretty soon Beth would have to put the car away, go a winter without it in order to protect it from rust. His BMW had always been important to him, he took care of it to the best of his abilities, but even he knew he didnt love his car like Beth loved hers. She loved so fiercely he wondered if that was why she hadn't allowed herself to be loved by anyone else, because she knew she would always love them more. His curiosity got the best of him and he pulled around the building to park in the back where he normally would during a shift. This way he could sneak in through the breakroom without alerting the girls.

"He showed up at your house?" Robin questioned, clearly unaware of the boy who wasn't supposed to be here since he wasn't currently working. Beth hadn't had a chance to talk to Robin since the series of events unfolded. Sunday Beth was worried about bothering her by calling and in school they didn't have a chance just the two of them to talk about it.

"Yeah I was working on my car and he just appeared in my driveway" Beth told her, leaning over the counter. She never wanted to be a girl to gossip about boys but it wasn't until now she realized how confusing boys could be.

"Then he asked you to go with him to take the kids to a movie?" to Beth Robin just seemed like a friend asking questions about what had went down over the weekend but Robin was curious because her and Steve hadn't planned on that. She was aware of most moves he was to make with Beth because it was her idea. He never brought up bringing her with the kids.

“Not exactly, he wanted to do something while they watched the movie but I said we should watch with them” Beth explained, having regretted it since she learned it was a horror movie. She didn’t sleep the entire night that night.

“Why would you do that, he clearly wanted to spend time with you?” Robin curiously asked, shoving some returns to the side that still needed to be put away.

“Well that’s what I thought until Mike suggested we were going on a date and you should’ve seen him freak out Rob. It was like even suggesting it was torture enough for him” Beth sighed, her head falling into her hands. This answer made Robin almost instantly fall into a glare. Steve's job was to mae Beth feel good about herself, acting horrified about going on a date with her clearly wouldn't help that.

"Maybe you just took it wrong, sometimes Steve is an idiot. Trust me, I would know" Robin comforted, her hand falling on the girls shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"I dont know, I just feel stupid. I used to hate all the pretty girls that went in and out of that BMW like clockwork and now here I am, one of them" Beth groaned, feeling silly for allowing any feelings for Steve to seep in at all because she still hadn't forgiven him for what he had done. All those simple conversations made it easy to pretend but at the end of the day you could never really take a way the kind of harm he had done.

"You're not one of them Beth, no girl gets invitied into the BMW more than once these days. He's the one that showed up at your house, invited you to tag along with him. He probably panicked because he didn't want the kids teasing you guys if you did go on a date" Robin explained because she had seen how Steve was with the kids. There was a time they did it around her, Steve panicking about them suggesting a relationship between the two. That was because they didn't know she was gay. Hell she wasn't even sure Beth really knew.

"I just shouldn't of let him get close Robin, I've been out of my safety bubble too long. If I let this go on any longer all thats gonna happen is getting hurt and being reminded fat girls don't deserve that kind of love. I have to take a step back" Steve's heart dropped as he heard this confession from the back room. That was when he realized he couldn't be shy about this crush he had on her. No waiting around for hints she likes him back. Beth deserved to be pursued and he was gonna pursue the hell out of her. So he rushed back out the back door, hopped in his car, and sped back to the front of the building.

The bells on the door were hit so hard from his entrance they barely jingled, just a loud chime clambering into the wall as Steve rushed in. The wind from his stride making the Phoebe Cates cutout flutter slightly. Both girls jumped, too deep in their serious conversaton to be prepaed for such entrance. After all no one was ever that in a hurry to rent a movie. Once Beth saw it was Steve her heart calmed but Robin knew he had been listening. The stupid dingus had been eavesdropping from the back room. This was the only answer especially since Steve never cared to move so fast ever, even when he was clocked in.

"Steve we were just talki-"

"Will you go on a date with me? Saturday night, 6pm sharp, at Enzo's. I'll pick you up" Beth stared at the boy, eyes wide by his abruptness. Robin rolled her eyes, his answer enough to confirm he was spying on the two.

"You want to go on a date with me?" Beth finally muttered out, her heart racing so fast she swore they both could hear it.

"Yes Beth, because you deserve to be pursued and I want to pursue you. So we're gonna go on a real date, away from the kids, away from Robin, away from highschool assholes like Colin Matterson, who couldn’t be decent enough to take whatever snotty cheerleader he's dating this week to Enzo's, and we're going to have a damn good time. So, will you go on a date with me?" his small spech had left both Beth and Robin shocked but finally after a beat Beth nodded.

"Yeah, okay" a large smile broke across the boys face as she agreed. This wasn't just for Beth anymore, this was for him because he really liked Beth. It may have been unexpected but he was going to do the best he could to get to know her for real. So much for not going full King Steve.

"Perfect, I can’t wait" he told her with a dopey grin before turning and walking back out of the building. The minute he was alone in his car he let out the breath he was holding out. That had been the first time since Nancy that he had been nervous to ask a girl out. Hopefully it wouldn’t end the way it did with her.

“Did that just happen?” Beth asked, unable to keep a smile off her face. Robin glanced at her nervously, unsure of Steves true intentions, praying this would go her way.

“I think it just did”

Taglist: @kindablackenedsuperhero @rinarecommends @starryeyedpoet17 @crustless-toast @loverofmarsss @alexa-33 @bethanysnow @middle-of-the-earth @princessadriana4-blog @mochminnie @legendaryhumandiplomatgoop

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

a/n: sorry it’s been forever. I’m busy all of the time and I’ve been trying to keep my excitement going about this small fic. please show some love <3

[frenchtantan]

Theories about CPV2

I wanna talk about q!Etoiles' mission to the Nether for a bit. More specifically about the two opposed theories I have.

First off, something we can mostly agree is that the Code is scared of q!Etoiles. It faced him several times in the past, all of which ended with our favorite French Cucumber's victory, so much so that the last time it was forced to flee. Even now with the sword, it realized that killing him would be next to impossible. So, what to do about him?

Trap him in the Nether. In this scenario, the Code has no idea about the existence of the shield. It made q!Etoiles follow it into an active Nether portal, knowing he wouldn't resist, and then closed the door behind him. I watched the VOD, q!Etoiles misremembered, the Code wasn't in the Nether with him. It didn't drop the image frame with the shield schematics and coordinates, it was an invisible admin. The code has dropped items before while visible, so what gives? Moreso, the portal he went through is in an old structure. Someone built it before, and maybe it is one of the few known stable Nether portal (remember, q!Forever's portal was deemed "unstable"). Since people went through it in the past, they must've left clues, and the admin dropping those schematics might've been a meta way to say "q!Etoiles stumbled upon forgotten schematics when he arrived in the Nether". q!Etoiles is smart, but his specialty is game mechanics strategy (and culture), not mystery solving. Case in point, the "enigma" he faced while in the fortress was not hard per se (find keycard), and he still struggled. Again, I'm not saying he's dumb, people often forget that intelligence manifests in many different ways, and this just isn't his. We know the admins are adapting the difficulty based on the player involved, hence why Forever's Nether event wasn't too hard monster-wise: the players there were not strong enough. So in this scenario, the enigma was "easy" for RP reasons, and the Code had nothing to do with the shield. q!Etoiles just went through an existing doorway, found clues left by those who crossed it before him, which lead him to the shield. Unbeknownst to the Code, he then found a way out, where the Code was waiting for him just in case, however this time the Code was even more outmatched. This option has one major problem however: if CPV1 was so dangerous, how can we be sure CPV2 doesn't have the same flaw? Whatever intense trial CPV1 went through, it ended with its "remains" destroyed, which means despite its infinite durability, the experiment led to its partial destruction. The book says there were schematics for subsequent iterations (which includes CPV2 I'm assuming), and those were destroyed too "as per protocol", but nothing is said about getting rid of the iterations themselves. This means that the unprecedented events from the intense trial weren't worth even the destruction of presumably dangerous items, so they had to hide it. This also means those events might happen again now. Hence, my second theory:

The Code wanted q!Etoiles to find the shield. From the very beginning there has been clues that the code might be a mistake, an experiment from the Federation gone wrong. What if CPV1 is what created the Code? What if the intense trial led not just to the shield being destroyed, but to the creation of the Code? That would be why they didn't re-execute the trials, because it would unleash another monster. And who better than the hot-headed, dungeon-cleaner q!Etoiles to reproduce the conditions of that intense trial? Worse, what if the unprecedented event didn't just create the Code, but turn the user into it. Etoiles wanted a villain arc, what if it involves him becoming a Code Entity? That would be an excellent way for the Code to deal with its "q!Etoiles problem" imo.

Whatever the case may be, whether it was the Code's objective or not, I believe the intense conditions of the trial will be met once again due to q!Etoiles' behavior. Time will tell what this will unleash.

[silvr-skreen]

GIVE US THE SHIRLEY LOREE

OH BOY THIS IS GONNAE BE A DOOZY!!!

Shirley 🎶 (LORE AND HC ABOUND SORRY)

Lore:

Originally intended to be a duo with Lenard (he sings/makes the music and she dances) except that never really happened.

On her first ever day of existing she got lost and ended up at Ray's stage and just did a bit with him until they ran out of film. As it turns out the juxtaposition between her and Ray was hilarious and THOSE two became a duo.

Lenard legit doesnt care, especially since she makes sure to brief all the others on what happens down in the Stage 2 set (and vicea versa to Ray)

ultimately the CNBG started to try and push a "beauty and the beast" romance thing except Al (who originally despite his good intentions was kind of spineless and bent to their will) said no. He wasn't gonna make them do that, and he didn't. But the CNBG then told him to get her off the air then.

As it turns out, part of her appeal was people thinking her and Ray were more than friends, and a hard no would upset some viewers (as opposed to lying and agreeing, or doing a "will-they-wont-they")

She walked in on the destruction of some of her clones and was then chased out by the staff tasked with the job, and she fled to the basement (this was after Richie left and Ray got banished) and begged him to hide her because "they tore up my copies and they want to tear me up too!" and he agreed. He hid her and played dumb until the staff left.

She's kind of just... been in his lair since, until of course, the staff stopped showing up, at which point she got free reign of the basement, but she is too scared to leave his side. (she also doesnt make clones because shes afraid they'll get torn up too)

Headcanons:

something is very wrong with her. Her mechanic doesn't really have the "cute-Agression" but instead if gordon shoots her, or another puppet she runs at him to chastise him about it. Aka. pacifism is really important (or you attack when she's not active or looking)

there was a scrapped script from when Al was considering agreeing with the network and forcing it, but then he tossed it. It's. it's very bad and al's written in the margins a bunch about that.

she's around george height! very tall, also very wiggly. Ray is the one person she wont attempt to wiggle away from

also the one person ray confided in when it came to raymond (which. i have a headcanon about him too)

she learned a lot of stuff from ray, however, it was before gordon came around so... yeah she likes to hit stuff with small blunt objects.

in addition to that one. she needs to either be taped up, or lead to ray to deactivate her. (the second one deactivates them both, and they always are in the same room at the same time)

side quest is really just... listening. offering support.

oh, also fun fact im the person writing that fic on Ao3 "The Neighborhood" w/ trans gordon an' yeah ye shouldnae be stabbing a pregnant person w/ a screwdriver shirley-girly (ray calls her that)

Funny image tax thank you for reading :3

[henrioo]

First things first I can prove also that iam guy too. and prove you that iam not a fem reader blog. (Pls don't wanna get blocked 😭😭) mercy mercy..!!

Second I swear on my life i don't hate i love him too iam too but iam also fan of shanks too pls but I meet a lot if annoying kid thats why I was talking about it. I just love both red head okey??😭😭

Question of today ⭐: whats the best thing about your nationality or that your proud of?

Hmm iam from 🇲🇫🇧🇷 so.....😚😚🤭😳😚😚🙉🙉🙈🙈🙈

Another question of today⭐: whats a thing I the one piece fandom that you feel needs to change?? I feel people need to stop complaining about the smallst things ever... like that new color spread made by oda with tashigi, nami ,robin,reuji, uta. I saw people on twitter complaining about how perona wasnt there like be greatful insted of complaining...bro😭😭💀💀

🌮 taco anon ~

OOOOOH YOU MAKE PART OF THE BOYS GANG YIPPPPPEEEEEEE

Dw babe, I was scared because since I block all fem blogs that interact with my stories I blocked without wanting those anons

But if your block has male info then you are totally safe I won't block you don't worry hahaha I always check before blocking

I think it is the songs probably, I like a lot of the art of Brazil, like we have some artist fucking amazing I swear

But the songs, the music that Brazil makes are unique, there's nothing that compares with

I really love brazilian music and it's perfect no matter if its song about the 90's or a song release this year, all are really good

And Funk too, I love the Brazilian funk, besides I don't like many of them because we have some shitty ones, there some that are AMAZING

ALSO YOU ARE FROM WHERE????? HUH???? TALK MORE NOW!

Hahahahah don't worry baby I was joking with you, kid is really dumb it's totally fine to hate him but tbh I don't like most fans of chars (any chars any anime) they just suck

Bro the entire fandom of one piece should change for me, 90% of them are terrible and Jesus some are even criminal

But I think they don't enjoy one piece as it should, this is what I would like to change

One piece is a story, we are learning about a world, about a forgotten story that no one knows anymore, they are showing us a secret and mystery story that was lost in the time

And all that people care about is fight and power, is about Zoro winning idk how, is about Luffy losing to idk, is about Haki, is about power scale and blah blah

Like, I know the fights are cool, I know it is cool to discover with char are strong that each char

But some people are really forgetting the fucking story!

Now in egg head all I see of Brazilian fans at least is they talking about Zoro and Sanji power and Luffy winning and losing and they all complaining why don't have more fights why they are avoiding fights and stuff

ITS BECAUSE ITS NOT ONLY FIGHTS, IN THE ARC THEY ALREADY EXPLAIN WHY THEY DON'T WANT TO FIGHT BUT LOOKS THEY AREN'T READING AND JUST SEEING THE IMAGES???

Seriously, for any one piece fan, enjoy the story, connect the dots, see the time line, see how the years pass through this world, because the story is the true treasure in this manga

[thearchmageisdead-novel]

Excerpt, Nadira & Blackwell

“Move it. Blackwell doesn’t like to wait.” 

To say those words shook her to the core would be an understatement. Never in her life had she imagined coming face to face with that man. For him to recommend her, he had to know about her prior unsavory activity. It was disturbing to think about. When exactly did he catch on?

What makes it worse was that Aurora Brightweaver was one of the few Mages to have mastered teleportation. It was a miraculous display of talent, but not one that made things any easier for Nadira. They were sudddenly and violently transported into a strange room. *spoiler*. In one word, it was creepy.  Nadira prided herself on not scaring easily. Yet even she found herself just disconcerted.

“I’m going to leave this one in your hands. Don’t scare her off Blackwell, you're the one who wanted her here.” Brightwweaver said, a strange emotion in her voice that Nadira couldn’t place. 

With that the only comforting presence in the strange room teleported out of sight,  leaving Nadira alone with someone she never wanted to be alone with. He looked her up and down in the same examining manner as  Brightweaver. It wasn’t malicious, or goddess forbid, lecherous. But, it was uncomfortable. Brightweaver had been looking at her. Blackwell? He was looking through her. He said not a word, simply handing her a full venetian face mask.

“Do you think this is strange?” Blackwell said. “A criminal becoming an enforcer of justice.”

Nadira tried very hard to keep her emotions off her face. “I’ll admit that I find it ironic. I was wondering if this was all some elaborate stunt to trick me into a jail cell.”

“Trust that I don’t need any tricks to get you into a jail cell. Or I wouldn’t have, seeing as I’m officially out of a job.” Blackwell sighed, seeming slightly more human than a minute ago. Nadira took a second to appraise him. He was clearly aged, wrinkles of all sorts were etched onto a weary face. His figure was lean and wiry. Which for anyone but a mage would make him an easy target. Looks could be deceiving. She let herself question what brought him to this state. Had the decades of locking mages in that fly away prison of his weighed on him?

Would it weigh that heavily on her?

“I believe as much. Which makes me all the more curious. Forgive me, but the rumors say that you never let a criminal go.” For anyone looking on the outside, she would appear to be confident. Blackwell didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest, but intimidating him would be a dumb thing to try. Nadira just had to create an unbothered image. She would take advantage of the opportunity granted to her. Even if it was a truly terrible oppurtunity. 

“The rumors are just rumors. I’ll teach you the power of those another time.” Blackwell chuckled, but it wasn’t a lighthearted one. No, it was the chuckle of a man who was not smiling on the inside. When Nadira didn’t respond Blackwell continued. “I’m sure you’re wondering what the mask is for. I’ll answer your question. You’re about to mingle with your fellow cabinet members for the first time. We found that it would be best if you could talk without discerning your faces.” 

That was curious. What would be the trouble in letting them see each other's faces. Nadira said as much, “Wouldn’t hiding our faces make us trust eachother less?”

"It’s for a few people's sakes, you and three others. Of course everyone will have a mask, but you four will probably be the only ones that need them. Officially, the mask are required for your entire training period and must be removed once it ends. I’m sure you’ll understand the need eventually.” Blackwell made a hand motion around his face, insinuating it was time to go.

Nadira donned the mask she'd been given before asking a final question “What will you do to stop me from dropping my mask before the training is over? Are these enchanted?”

“No, we won’t stop you from removing the mask; it's all about trust,” Blackwell told her.

[a-drabble-a-dray]

“It’s funny.”

“...Huh?”

“That you think you’re like your dad.”

“I…” Her face contracted into a grimace. Even as she tried to point to the next room over, and what happened to their assailants, her hands twitched in accordance with the images flashing through her head.

“You–”

“You saw what I did.” She hissed, finally arriving at an answer.

“...Mhm.”

“And you know about–”

“The executions? I got to watch a couple, actually.”

“Then–”

“Have you?”

“I…”

He blinked, watching the way her hands shook. He handed her the water flask, hoping to take her outside of her head for a second.

“...I wasn’t allowed.” She muttered, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before taking a swig.

“I figured.” He leaned back. “They put a friend of mine on the gallows, once.”

“...Oh.” The guilt tightened her throat.

“Crazy bastard.” He chuckled. “Went at the Duke with his teeth.”

“Oh.” She blinked, leaning forward in her seat. “...What happened?”

“Seems like your father’s dandy little heart couldn’t take it. He got so startled he tumbled back and off the platform.”

“Oh, I…” She stared blankly at his face, processing the info. “...Wow. And your friend?”

He shrugged. “Made a break for it.”

“Did he survive?”

“I’d say so. But looking at his bounty record, you’d swear he regrets it.” He cracked a grin. “Heard he stabbed an Angel-Wyrm to death the other week.”

“That’s…”

“Crazy?”

“...I suppose.”

“...Well.” He huffed. “Not as crazy as catching bullets.”

“That was–”

“The thing that saved my life.”

“...” She gripped at her skirt, tensing up.

“I did quite a few jobs for the Duke, actually. He would make hunters disarm and get patted down before even walking into his office.”

“...Oh.”

“So–”

“I…” She interrupted, finding breath. “I’m… Scared. You’re trying to say I’m braver than– Than him, but… I’m terrified. All the time.”

“Well, yeah.” He smiled. “Obviously.”

“...”

“Hey. Why do you think we bounty hunters always gather at bars?”

“I…” She thought for a second, holding back the response ‘stereotyping’. “I don’t know.”

“Risking your life for a living sounds like a terrible idea, doesn’t it?”

“Well, if you put it like that…”

“Most people doing it don’t like facing that. At least, not sober.”

“Oh.”

“There’s something wrong with you if you aren’t scared of walking into a gunfight.”

“...”

“Most people want to run away. I know people who only hunt when they’re starting to run out of food.”

“...Is there something wrong with you if you choose not to run away?”

“Heh.” His smile warmed up. “I dunno. Is there something wrong with you if you decide to pick up a runt that’s getting actively hunted down?”

“...Is it okay if I say ‘yes’?”

“Sure. But you’re gonna have to accept that it’s also okay if there’s something wrong with you.”

She sighed, finally offering a smile. “I don’t know why you do this.”

“Zoology.”

“Huh?”

“I like reading up on animals and–”

“I know that!”

“Well, the duke likes ripping people apart. Meanwhile, you were more efficient with those thugs than most mercs I know.”

“Uh…”

“Your powers are the same, sure. But you’re different beasts.”

“Is that–” She groaned. “That was dumb.”

“And you’re smiling.”

“I…” She had to touch her lips to confirm it. “Oh.”

“...Right.” He stretched, unwounded shoulder loudly popping. “We should go. Outrun the smell of blood and the reinforcements.”

“...Yeah.” She stood up, finding her legs shaking but functional once again.

“...Oh, yeah, one more difference.”

“Huh?”

“Whenever the Duke undercut my pay, I was able to catch it right away.”

“...Isn’t that why he banished you from town?”

“He did it because I’m too good at my job.”

“Right.” She narrowed her eyes.

“As for you… When did I meet you, again?”

“...A month ago?”

“Right. And you’re still getting away without me knowing your name.”

[teeto-peteto]

I can't stop thinking about Senna and Lucian looking for a dollhouse for Gwen. I love the mental image so much. Love your blog by the way, I love how you put words together.

Im glad you say i put my words together cause im always scared my points arent getting across cause when im done i just hit publish and never re-read it, only the second after i post cause im dumb :) thank you!! that means a lot actually for a person who's first language isnt english <3 i appreciate it a lot!!

Oooh yes i imagine them going through the demacian artisians and toy makers... discussing between them wich she would like the most. 'This one has a red roof... do you think she likes red that much?' 'Is the mini furniture included on the price?' 'Oh these doors are too tight, she wont fit though those...' 'Do you happen to sell mini stuffed animals...?'

[dearest-reader]

Mending All My Gashes

Dear Reader,

Out of all kinds of injuries, cuts were always my least favorite. Even the smallest paper cuts stung like the worst kind of bee sting. Not to mention the way blood would oozy out and slowly trickle down. Leaving its gross sticky redness all in a trail. I was so scared of getting cut by anything that, it was not until freshmen year in high school did I even dare to touch a knife. My parent's warnings always ringing clear in my mind each time I so much as glanced at a knife in the drawer.

"Don't touch that or you might cut yourself."

Call me crazy but maybe there is a reason why I started to think a lot more darkly around the start of high school when I got the courage to touch the blades. What caused me to become... not as fine. (I'm not depressed, cuz if I was then I would have admitted it by now) was a combination of things that are not important for you to know reader. Besides I don't want to ruin your day even more (then again if you found your way here then I guess it's too late for that huh).

All that matters is that one day, I stupidly cut myself accidentally while washing the dishes. It was dumb of me, but both I came to my senses and went to wash the blood off my arm. I froze. Like I was trying to remember how it felt at that moment. How it was stinging but in a nice tingly way. For a second, I could feel not reserved or hold things in. It was kinda a reminder that I could feel something. I was able to let the blood of a pathological person's pleasure run. Let my carefully made image of the sturdy and jaded person I made myself out to be bleed out. Maybe that’s why the cut felt nice. It was a reminder that I could feel something searing. Something painful.

It was a cruel reminder. One that was perhaps a second or so long but hurt all the same.

Then reality snapped in and I immediately scolded myself for it. It was a selfish of me to enjoy such a feeling. I have healed from worse, to get caught up in something so little like an accident would be unfair to those who actually have those thoughts. I wouldn't be better then those who egg people on to do such actions. Like all my other scars these gashes will mend over. They would heal.

That's what I told myself as I fell into a restless sleep.

Healing a wound is hard. It takes time for scabs to form into scars. However, you have to let them heal. If you keep picking at them then all you will get is the same bloody mess that you started with. It's harder than it sounds trust me. I will forever be picking at mine. But Reader, you know better than me. I hope you know how to look for something that will heal your battle scars. Some way to mend all your gashes.

But out of all things... I hope that you don't keep having to mend them. That you learn how to feel and find those little reminders that life is more than just its messes. Find those reminders that there is more. As it means you are learning dear reader.

You are learning to move on, that old scars are no long worth going over again. You have learned to never again play with sharp things as they only end in pain.

And for those who gashes have yet to heal over. I promise they will. Trust me they will.

Sinceraly,

Okami