#god i still barely know how to tag on this site

[fizzy-frenzy]

Sketch that I'll do the line art for either tomorrow, orrrr probably never

[art block has been kicking my ass save me pls]

[loveesiren]

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱

Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: I found a fic a few years ago that I really loved that was similar to this but I can't find the fic now so credits to whoever wrote it first and inspired me!

this is just a short drabble and i don't want to give it away so...deal with no warnings lmfao

wc: 484

Rafe’s breathing hitched as he leaned over the table, inhaling another line of cocaine His shoulders tensed, his mind swimming in a haze of euphoria and longing. He felt your touch—cool and ethereal—your fingernails lightly grazing his bare back.

“You can’t keep doing this, Rafael,” you murmured, your voice a delicate melody that pulled him from the edge of oblivion. A smirk played on your lips, but your eyes held a sadness that mirrored his own.

He turned to you, his pupils blown wide, his hand trembling as he cupped your cheek. “I don’t care,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Every time I see you, it’s like I’m alive again. You’re more beautiful than anything I’ve ever known.”

His lips found yours, soft and cold, and for a moment, he didn’t feel broken. The warmth that spread through his body was a cruel contrast to the chill of your skin beneath his trembling hand.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice cracking as he pressed you back onto the bed. His lips trailed over your neck, down to your collarbone, each kiss a desperate plea. “Every... fucking... inch of you.” His words were punctuated by shaky breaths, his devotion etched into every touch.

“I miss you too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hands trembled as they found his hair, threading through it like you used to. “I miss waking up next to you, hearing your heartbeat. I miss... everything.”

Rafe froze, lifting his head to meet your gaze. His blue eyes were glassy, searching yours for something that wasn’t there anymore. “Stay tonight,” he begged, his voice breaking on the last word.

You cupped his face with hands that no longer carried warmth. “You know I can’t, baby,” you said softly, your words a knife to his fragile heart. “This... it’s not real.”

“It’s real to me!” he snapped, his voice rising, his fists clenching the sheets beneath you. “You’re real to me, and I don’t care what anyone says. I love you—God, I love you so much.” His forehead fell against yours, his tears mixing with the faint scent of you that still haunted his senses.

“I love you too, Rafael,” you said, your voice breaking as you leaned up to press a final, lingering kiss to his lips. “Always.”

When the kiss ended, you were gone. Like every other night, you slipped away, leaving him alone with the ghosts of his memories and the ache in his chest that never dulled.

Rafe sat in the empty room, his body shaking, his hands gripping the sheets where your outline had been. His breath came in ragged gasps as the truth clawed at him, relentless and cruel. You weren’t here.

You would never be here again.

And no matter how many lines he sniffed or how many prayers he whispered into the dark, the dead couldn’t come back to life.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001 @seojunandsoju @niktwazny303 @jjmaybankmylovee @simp4f1 @faephoria @toftomgmf @bunnykoo901 @adarkskinarchives @millietozier @babybreadamericano @hwaaholic @dilfluvr4evr @wtfdudesblog @harrys-housewife @sereneera @lizziesangel @akobx @kieeslove @serrendiipty @esquivelbianca @agnxstic @zinwaldorf

[jealousjersey]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖”come home”⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

☆ tags // mike schmidt x reader, loser!mike x dom!gn!reader,

☆ mentions // mike is a needy loser who begs for your attention, dick sucking, edging, cum drinking, reader doms mike, angst, fluff, smut, needy and desperate mike, reader has like wrapped around their finger., missionary, unprotected p in v (wrap it) minors dni 18+

☆ a/n // i still love writing for mike schmidt this is heaven ty lou

your work has been consuming you, working long hours, barely coming home on time, sleeping all until your next shift and just being busy. your boyfriend, mike, hates it. he hates that you’re never home, he hates that he never sees you, and he hates that you two haven’t had sex in weeks.

he’s been a brat about it ever since you took more hours, and he never took the time to realize that you’re only working so hard to provide for things he’d want, i mean, you are the house breadwinner. ever since his pizzeria secrurity job ended you’ve had to work since he couldn’t get hired anywhere.

as you’re working you get texts after texts from mike. “are you gonna be home on time?” “i miss you.” “i need you it’s been so long” he spams you.

god, he’s so needy. you roll your eyes at the text. if he doesn’t chill the hell out for atleast 3 more hours you’re going to loose your mind, does he not know that it’s hard for you too?

as the hours go by you think of ways to surprise him. maybe some lingerie? maybe a new toy for you two to experiment with? maybe some flavored lube? the possibilities are endless. you count down to the second you get off your shift, simply texting mike “wait up on me, i have a surprise.” as you clock out and go to your car.

you arrive at the nearest mall and get a cute lingerie set from the Spencer’s located within. a black lacy bra with a golden heart charm between the breasts, the bottom piece is a black and lacy with “baby” on the butt written in rhinestones. you knew he would love it but you didn’t expect him to like it as much as he did.

as you’re getting back in your car to drive home, you get a sudden rush of excitement. wondering how he’ll react at the site of you. you even put on red lipstick to top it all off. as you arrive at home, you change into your new set in your car, it fit perfectly around your shape. you swiftly but your work clothes back on. you still need this to be a surprise.

you enter the house and throw your keys on the kitchen table. you walk into your room and mike is waiting patiently for you, god his bulge is showing just by the thought of you coming home.

before he could say anything you strip as soon as you get through your door, watching his eyes gaze at your body in your new set. giving him a spin around so he could see your rhinestone covered ass.

mikes eyes widen at the site of you, a wet spot already forming at the tip of the tent in his sweatpants. “oh my god” he says softly as he stares at your figure.

you stand in your set in front of him, your fingers dancing across your chest, driving him crazy. you get on your knees in front of him and bring his sweatpants down, followed by his boxers. pulling them down just below his balls. his dick springs out of his pants, hot and red at the tip with precum pooling out.

you leave one kiss on his tip as your lips take in his precum. leaving the red lipstick kiss mark on his dick. he immediately groans at the sensation, feeling better than he has in weeks just by the expectation of you giving him head.

but you’re not giving in that easily. you kiss and lick around his shaft, but never long enough for him to get a release from it, your lipstick leaving red stains all around his hard on.

“please suck, i’ve been thinking about it all night please” he pleads with almost tears in his eyes from the overstimulation. it’s so cute seeing him like this but who are you to say no to his request?

as per his request you start, you wrap your red lips around his tip and his hand pushes your head down, it’s almost insulting but god, it’s so needy of him and that drove you crazy. you fully emerge yourself around him and he lets out a sore whimper.

you gag on his dick as you’re sucking, he throws his head back and keeps his hand on the back of your head, gripping on your hair. his dick twitches in your mouth signaling he’s close to cumming. “m’gonna cum” he moans, only the whites of his eyes showing. as his words hit your ears you stop, red lipstick covering the shaft of him.

he looks devastated at your action. “please let me cum, i’ve been waiting so long.” he begs. it’s almost cute how desperate he is for you. you want to keep going for him but you stop yourself. “now is it really fair if you get to get off and i don’t? is that fair? i’ve been waiting just as long as you have.” you say

you push him back on the bed, his dick springing up, tip still red and sensitive. you wrap your hands around him, feeling the warmth of him.

you basically rip your panties off of yourself, positioning yourself on top of him, sliding his dick inside you, grinding on him as you look him in the eyes. “you look so pretty when i’m overstimulating your dick. so, so pretty.” you say as you place a hand on his cheek

he moans your name as he places his hands on your hips, so tightly that you’re certain it’ll leave bruises. you want that, the pain would be a reminder of this amazing night.

your hair flips around your neck, your face flushed with a pink tint and sweat beaming off your forehead. his dick assaults your walls as his tip brushes your gspot causing you to let out a soft moan of his name. his fingers make their way to your clit, moving soft circles along it, making you pant soft sounds.

mike almost cums on contact with your body, but he knows he has to stop himself. he has to make this good for you. he has to make this last as long as he can. “fuck, i’m gonna cum mike.” you whimper. he speeds up, hitting your gspot with each thrust he leads you to bounce on.

“m’so close” you whimper, his fingers bring themselves to your chest, god he loved it so much. especially in that new bra. his teeth graze your nipples, biting them so softly but it feels so much more intense this way. so intimate, yet so dirty.

“can i cum now? please” he moans. how could you say no? “cum in me, please cum in me” you say, and he does. leaving thick white pools in you, the warmth making you shake as you finish, as you remove yourself from on him, you pour out a mix of both of your releases. he brings a finger to your wetness and brings it up to his mouth, sucking on them. he loves the taste of you.

please come home earlier next time.

[muffinrecord]

Current Plans + Musings

I don't plan on playing Exedra to the degree I did for Magia Record, or playing it at all. Because of that, I won't be taking an active role in the community and archiving anything for it. Of course, if Exedra has like amazing gameplay and stories then this is all subject to change, but for now I think I'm done with phone games.

The two youtube channels will stay up and I'll check em periodically to make sure there aren't copyright strikes against the content. I've saved all my raw files, especially for the battle animations, so I can remake them in the future if the music ever becomes a problem for some reason.

Google Drive will stay up until Google rots away. I haven't recorded footage in a long time (as in stories, I do for the character doppels and such), but I'll upload things if they're sent to me.

Magia Union Translations still plans on translating things and making videos, especially leading up to the end, but also for after the game is over for whatever wasn't made in time. I'm not sure what form this will take in the future-- if it'll be manual captions added to the videos or not, but I know it WILL happen.

As for this blog, I'm not going to delete it or anything. However I'm going to be taking a step back. I'd like to say that I'll do liveblogs but I mean... *gestures at blog* I've been saying that for years and the only one I really did successfully was the Oriko one lmao. Ahhh oh well.

I'll have more words later, but it was really fun to be part of a fandom experience like this. I'm excited to work on my own original story projects though and quiet down a bit.

...

When I started this blog, I never expected it to have people actually read it. Or look at it. I just wanted a place to gush about how much fun I was having. I didn't even want to tag the posts with "Magia Record" at first because I was terrified people would be mean at me, haha.

But I'm glad I did. I made so many good friends through this game. I'm glad it existed. And it made me happy to have a place where people cared about what I had to say. Some folks actually got their news from here, can you imagine that? They had notifications turned on for this blog. My god.

Anyways, I'm going to be here for the next two months, and tomorrow I'll start reblogging fan projects and initiatives, plus general news. Maybe this blog will turn into a dumping site for art and fanfic reblogs, who knows. I might watch the remaining stuff and add various thoughts here and there.

Otherwise, you can find me on my main blog @malignmuffin, which only reblogs stuff (I don't talk much if at all there). I have another tumblr blog for my comic, but I think I'll reshare the name once I actually have content you can look at on it. It's pretty bare bones for the moment.

Actually it'll be funny if the end of this game is what makes me finally work on it again. I was in the process of working on it when NA came out, and it totally derailed me. Stopped writing, drawing, just focused on this silly little phone game. Now it's like those five years have gone by and I'm going back to where I started, except I think my lil comic is going to be a bit better than it was before. If I actually make it, that is.

If I ever do actually make my comic and start posting it, I'll be sure to update y'all here. hah

Anyways, thanks for being on this wild ride with me. The memories have been great, and I'm glad I had this experience, even if it had to end.

[spnbaby-67]

In His Eyes

Author's Notes:

Just a little something something I wrote last night when i couldn't sleep. My Neuropathy and sciatica was killing me and I was watching the Radio Company concert again in Austin and came up with this crazy idea after I saw this photo that i'll post below. Not mine and I don't take credit for it, so thank you for whoever took it,.. It had me thinking things i probably shouldnt but what the heck.. Its for pure entertainment anyways,. and Jensen is single, mostly in all my fanfics he will be single unless noted. Please don't take and copy and paste to other sites and say its yours. Im trying my best to get back into writing. and if you ever want to be tagged please let me know.

Warnings: Semi-Sexual content, NSFW (sort of), Jensen being sexy as hell, and I take full responsibility for edits as i dont have a beta.

Pairing: Jensen and Reader,

The lights dimmed as the first notes of Everything I Do (I Do It for You) filled the air, wrapping around the room like a slow-burning fire. The crowd swayed, lost in the moment, but I barely noticed them.

Because Jensen was staring at me.

Not just looking—staring.

That deep, unreadable gaze locked onto mine as he stood on the edge of the stage, microphone in one hand, the other resting on his belt. His lips parted slightly, a smirk playing at the corners like he knew something I didn’t.

The air between us thickened, my pulse racing as if he’d reached across the distance and traced his fingers down my spine.

I swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of the way my dress clung to my body, the way my breath caught in my throat. His eyes darkened as if he could hear it, as if he could feel the

pounding of my heart from where he stood.

Jensen took a slow step forward, his boots heavy on the stage, his voice rough with something deeper than just the song as he sang:

"Look into my eyes… you will see… what you mean to me…"

God help me, I did. I looked into his eyes, and I was trapped. There was something smoldering there, something just for me. My knees felt weak as the world blurred around us, leaving only him, only this moment.

His gaze flickered downward, dragging over me like a touch, igniting something low in my belly. My fingers curled into fists against my lap, struggling to keep from reaching for him, from letting him see just how much he was undoing me.

Then, with the slow confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, Jensen knelt at the very edge of the stage, his free hand resting on his knee. Close. Too close.

"You know it’s true… everything I do… I do it for you…"

His voice was velvet and fire, rough and smooth in all the ways that made my skin prickle. My breath shuddered out, and his smirk deepened.

Damn him.

The next words left his lips softer, slower, like a promise meant just for me.

"There’s no love… like your love…"

The intensity of his stare sent heat rushing to my cheeks. He tilted his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and I felt the breath hitch in my throat.

Was he really doing this? Was this for me?

Jensen leaned in just enough to make my pulse thunder, his voice a husky whisper against the microphone as he sang the last words of the chorus.

My whole body burned. The space between us wasn’t enough.

And then, as if he knew—knew exactly what I was thinking, what I wanted—he let the smirk fade, his expression softening, eyes flickering with something almost… dangerous.

The song drifted into its final chords, the crowd still lost in the music, but I felt like I was drowning in something else entirely.

Jensen didn’t move, didn’t look away, and I swore I saw a silent dare in his eyes.

Come closer.

God, I wanted to.

But before I could, before I even had the chance to process the fire he’d just set in my veins, he stood, giving me one last lingering look before turning back toward the stage.

Leaving me breathless.

Leaving me ruined.

As Jensen turned back to the stage, the crowd roared, but the noise barely registered over the pounding in my chest. My body still buzzed from the intensity of his stare, the silent promise lingering in the air between us.

I exhaled shakily, my fingers gripping the edge of my seat as he finished the song, his voice still thick with something deeper than performance. He knew what he’d done. He knew exactly how he’d left me—wanting, aching, caught in the spell of his voice and those damn eyes.

The final note rang out, and the lights shifted, bathing the stage in a softer glow. The band kicked into the next song, but Jensen didn’t join in right away. Instead, he turned, gaze sweeping the audience before locking onto me again.

And then—just barely—he nodded.

A silent message. A command.

Meet me.

I swallowed hard, my body already moving before my brain could catch up. My legs were unsteady as I pushed through the crowd, heart hammering with every step.

Backstage security barely gave me a second glance as I slipped past, my breath shallow, anticipation curling in my stomach. The corridors were dimly lit, the muffled sound of the concert fading behind me.

Then, suddenly, he was there.

Jensen leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with that same smoldering gaze. The heat in his eyes made my pulse jump, but I forced myself to keep walking until there was barely any space between us.

“You,” he murmured, voice rough, teasing.

“Me,” I whispered back, my breath uneven.

He reached up, brushing a thumb along my jaw, his touch barely there, but it sent a shiver racing down my spine.

“You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart,” he mused, tilting his head, “and I’m gonna start thinking you want something.”

A small, breathless laugh escaped me. “What if I do?”

His lips parted slightly, his gaze darkening, and before I could say another word, he closed the distance.

His hand slid to my waist, fingers pressing just enough to pull me closer, his breath warm against my lips.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmured, and then—

His lips brushed mine.

Soft at first, like he was waiting for me to pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I melted into him, hands finding their way to his chest as his grip tightened, deepening the kiss. He tasted like whiskey and something undeniably Jensen, something intoxicating, something I knew I’d never get enough of.

The world outside this moment didn’t exist. There was only the heat of his body, the rough scrape of his stubble against my skin, the way he groaned low in his throat when I pressed just a little closer.

And damn, if that sound didn’t make me want to beg for more.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath uneven.

“Tell me you’re not leaving yet,” he murmured.

I smiled, fingers curling into his shirt.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Jensen grinned, slow and wicked, and in that moment, I knew—this night was only getting started.

He took my hand, intertwining our fingers, warmth radiating from his touch as he led me further down the hall toward his dressing room. My heart raced, anticipation humming in my veins with every step we took. The muffled cheers from the concert faded further, leaving only the quiet rustle of fabric, the soft breathing between us, and the thunderous beat of my heart.

Inside, Jensen gently shut the door behind us, clicking the lock into place before turning to face me again. The air felt electric, charged with promise and unspoken desires.

He slowly stepped closer, eyes heavy-lidded and intense. “Do you have any idea,” he began softly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, “how long I've wanted to do that?”

I shivered at the huskiness of his voice, my breath hitching. “Probably not as long as I have.”

Jensen laughed low, his gaze darkening again. He gently traced a fingertip along my collarbone, leaving heat in its wake. “You have no idea.”

My knees weakened, and he noticed immediately, placing a steadying hand against my waist. He tilted my chin upward with gentle fingers, leaning in to whisper close to my ear, “Every song tonight, every note—I sang for you. I wanted you to feel it.”

“Oh, trust me,” I breathed, hands settling against his chest. “I felt everything.”

He growled softly, the sound vibrating between us, and kissed me again, deeper this time. It was slow and lingering, full of intention and burning need. His lips trailed from mine, down my jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses against my throat. My head tipped back, offering him more, surrendering completely to his touch.

“You drive me insane,” Jensen murmured roughly against my neck. “Every glance, every smile… every time you’re close to me.”

“Then don’t hold back,” I whispered, tangling my fingers in his hair. “Show me exactly how I make you feel.”

With a low groan, Jensen lifted me effortlessly, guiding me backward until I rested against the edge of the makeup counter. His hands found the curve of my waist, fingers exploring slowly, teasing beneath the hem of my shirt. My pulse quickened, heat flooding my skin, as his lips reclaimed mine, hungry and urgent.

“I intend to,” he promised breathlessly, sliding his palms over my hips, pulling me impossibly closer. “All night.”

His mouth returned to mine, igniting sparks that melted away everything but us—this moment, this passion, this undeniable, breathtaking chemistry. The entire evening had been a buildup to this—his eyes finding me in the crowd, his voice caressing me through every lyric, and now, finally, his touch setting my body on fire.

In that instant, as Jensen’s kiss grew deeper and more intense, I realized one thing with absolute certainty:

Tonight would be unforgettable—and neither of us planned on letting go.

His fingers curled beneath the edge of my shirt, teasing against bare skin, drawing shivers that left me aching for more. With deliberate slowness, Jensen lifted the fabric, exposing my stomach inch by torturous inch, his mouth following the path his hands created. Soft, lingering kisses scorched my skin, leaving me breathless, dizzy, desperate for more.

When he reached the sensitive spot just above my hip, he paused, glancing up at me through hooded eyes, his expression both playful and predatory.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured huskily. "It’s been killing me, not being able to touch you like this."

I tangled my fingers through his hair, urging him upward. “Then don’t stop.”

He smiled against my skin before rising slowly, sliding my shirt up and over my head, letting it drop forgotten to the floor. His eyes darkened as he drank me in, his thumb tracing the delicate lace along the edge of my bra.

"God," he breathed, stepping closer until there was nothing between us but heat. "You have no idea what you do to me."

He kissed me fiercely again, hands gliding smoothly across my back, unhooking the clasp and gently slipping the straps down my shoulders. Cool air hit my bare skin, quickly replaced by Jensen’s warm palms, cupping me reverently, his thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks until I gasped into his mouth.

My own hands trembled slightly as I tugged at the hem of his shirt, needing more, needing him just as exposed as I was. Jensen stepped back just enough to let me remove it, revealing toned muscle that shifted beneath my fingertips as I explored his chest. His breath shuddered as I traced the lines of his body, feeling his heartbeat beneath my touch.

“Y/N,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion and desire. "Tell me you want this as much as I do."

I lifted my eyes to meet his, the intensity nearly overwhelming. "I’ve never wanted anything more."

He captured my lips again, hungry and demanding, his hands roaming freely now, guiding me back toward the sofa at the far end of the dressing room. We sank down together, limbs tangled, skin against skin, mouths locked in a passionate rhythm that stole away every thought but him.

Jensen’s kisses grew deeper, each touch more intimate, drawing quiet moans from my lips that only seemed to encourage him. His hand slowly traveled down my thigh, gripping softly, pulling my leg around his waist as he pressed himself against me, letting me feel just how deeply he was affected.

“Feel that?” he asked hoarsely, brushing his lips gently against my earlobe, sending a thrill racing through me. “That’s all you, sweetheart. You make me lose my mind.”

My heart thundered wildly in my chest as I guided his face back to mine, breathing shakily, whispering back against his lips, “Then lose yourself with me.”

He groaned, eyes blazing as he kissed me again—harder, deeper, fully surrendering to the seductive pull between us. The night stretched ahead, filled with promises whispered between kisses, heated caresses, and the slow, tantalizing exploration of two souls who’d waited far too long.

And as Jensen’s hands finally claimed me fully, pulling me under waves of pleasure I’d never imagined, I knew that tonight, in his arms, I would truly find myself lost in him—completely, utterly, and beautifully undone.

Jensen’s fingers traced maddening patterns along my skin, drawing me deeper into the sweet chaos of his touch. Each kiss was a silent vow, each sigh a confession we’d both been waiting far too long to share.

His breath mingled with mine, heavy with need as he whispered against my lips, “You’re mine tonight, Y/N.”

“Always,” I breathed back, arching into his embrace, drowning in sensation as he claimed me completely.

Just as I was about to surrender to bliss, reality seemed to ripple around me. The heated whispers, Jensen’s lips brushing my skin—it all started to blur, fading like smoke through my fingertips…

And suddenly, the roar of applause filled my ears, jerking me awake with a startled gasp.

Blinking rapidly, I realized I was back in my seat, surrounded by cheering fans and bright stage lights. My heart raced wildly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It had felt so real…

Oh, God. I’d imagined all of it.

My skin still tingled, heart still racing as I shook myself free of the vivid daydream. I forced myself to focus back on Jensen, standing confidently on stage. But when my eyes found his, embarrassment hit me hard—because he was already looking right at me, a curious smirk playing across his lips.

Heat surged through my cheeks, and I dropped my gaze immediately, mortified at being caught in such a moment. But then I felt it—that magnetic pull—and forced myself to look up again.

Jensen’s eyes hadn’t left mine. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, a playful glint now shining in those green eyes. Then, to my shock, he stepped to the edge of the stage again, his stare fixed solely on me as he leaned forward, mic in hand.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” he teased gently, the amusement in his voice unmistakable. A ripple of laughter passed through the audience as I felt myself blush harder, my heart hammering.

I nodded shyly, biting back a nervous smile.

“Good,” he grinned warmly, his gaze softening, voice dropping low enough that only I could truly catch the next words. “Because you looked like you were having one hell of a dream.”

The audience erupted into laughter and whistles, but Jensen’s eyes held mine steadily, full of playful curiosity and the spark of a very real challenge.

Maybe tonight wasn’t just a dream after all.

**want to be tagged in future writings let me know I do have a western coming up as well. **

@deans-baby-momma

[rosewood-multifandom-writer]

Ed x Abused Reader Headcanons + Short One-Shot ⚠️

Summary: You have a tough exterior and keep others at arms distance at best. At worst, you act cold. You’re not mean, but you’re not nice either.

Ed is no exception to the many people you coldly separate yourself from. However, if there is one thing you both love and hate about him, it’s his stubbornness. But… there is a reason why you’re like this to begin with.

Author’s Notes + Content Warning(s): There are multiple Abuse Mentions. This is the most major element in these headcanons and in the one-shot that comes afterwards. If this is an upsetting subject for you to read about, you’re uncomfortable with the subject matter, or any other reason, give this a skip. The tag is also under the tag name “tw abuse mention.”

To those wanting to read more, the headcanons and one-shots are under the cut. Stay safe, stop reading at any point in time if you get uncomfortable.

Other quick author’s notes to keep in mind in this scenario:

1. Reader has been emotionally abused (i.e., threatened by an ex, yelled at by an ex)

2. Reader is NOT avatar.

3. Reader is the definition of a street fighter mixed with how Frank Castle fights. (I’ve become obsessed with the Punisher lately because he’s become my new comfort character, sue me, lol)

4. I also have age timeline headcanons for Ed mentioned here briefly.

You always held up your walls around everyone. You never took any bullshit from gang members, Shadaloo wannabes, a certain Taekwondo master, or anyone for that matter.

The first time you met Ed, you weren’t exactly friendly to put it lightly. Even now, you still acted cold towards him even when you were in a good mood and just speaking with him.

In fact, the conversations with Ed don’t feel like conversations sometimes. It just feels like you accomplishing missions for yourself. Sometimes it’s missions for him.

Ed always denied his frustration with wanting to get to know you but you always turned up him down.

Now that he thought about it… the way he sometimes treats that one person that always meets him in the subway station because they wanted to get stronger and wanted to find the meaning of strength.

Maybe that’s how they felt whenever he just barely tolerated them before.

“Is there even a reason why you fight or what?” “I just do what I gotta do.” That just sums up your conversations. Ed asks a question, you give a short answer, a non-answer, or a vague answer. All of which annoy Ed.

“Goddammit, why does he even bother? Why does he even care? What does he see in me?” You always thought. Then… the reason why… hits you hard.

Ed reveals that he talks to you because he’s been through a lot. Him being kidnapped and experimented on when he was 10, having to abandon his only father figure when he was 18 because of Shadaloo, and now being separated from his Neo-Shadaloo family for god knows how long at 21.

It explained so much to you why he of all people grew attached to someone like you. You sighed and hesitantly told him, “let’s meet somewhere, alone.”

One-shot Section:

You were now at an abandoned construction site. Not a single gang member to be seen to interrupt you. Partly because you were there to intimidate them into going away.

As proud as you were to be an intimidating figure to push away any possible dangerous people, it also made you feel alone.

That is, until Ed came in and being the stubborn man he is, kept trying to connect with you. Speaking of which, you saw him walking over to you.

“You’re not about to mug me, are ya?” Ed asked jokingly.

You scoffed, an amused smile on your face was briefly shown to Ed, only for it to be replaced with the same distant frown you had.

But… this frown hits differently now.

“Those scientists that did that to you, did you ever get revenge against them or anything? Did you at least get one name?” You asked.

“Why?” Ed asked.

“So I can make them pay for what they did to a child. Well… several children for that matter.” That cold exterior that you had going on became more apparent when you made that remark to Ed which made him feel intimidated for the first time in years.

“You don’t need to do that.” Ed told you.

“No. But I want to.” You said, your gaze now soft. “You deserved to be a kid. Not be some bastard’s lab rat because he wanted to be stronger.”

“I don’t remember their names. It’s not going to undo what they did to me. I’d much rather focus on now than trying to get revenge.” Ed said. “Besides, revenge is a waste of time to me.”

Shrugging, you joked, “You’re way better than me, that’s for sure.”

Ed looked at you with a bit of shock.

“I’m serious. I only beat others black and blue because I started out wanting to get payback against my ex.” You confessed.

He listened carefully as he needed to make sure that he does not screw this up. Not when he got this close, which is rare with you.

“Let’s just say my ex said some horrible nasty crap to me. My ex yelled at me, started nasty fights because they were mad at someone else, threatened to hurt me, and if that didn’t work, they threatened to hurt themselves, and their reasons were how bad their situation was or because they were pissed at the person who made them mad.” You said, voice shaking slightly, trying to fight against the tears.

“I had enough. So the next time I met with them, I just… lost control. I had to get my knuckles wrapped up. Not to mention that I had to serve a bit of time.” You looked at your own fists, which were just ordinary MMA fighter gloves in your favorite color.

Sighing, you said, “All it takes is the ONE person to be your last straw one of these days. Even if it was the one who was supposed to love you.”

Clenching his fists, Ed got closer to you and just hugged you tightly.

Eyes widened, you did not know what to do with this unexpected moment of affection from this man you met not too long ago.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, your arms remaining at your sides with unsure opened hands.

His hug tightened and he simply said, “I’m sorry.”

Speechless, you let tears spill over as you held onto Ed tightly and you both collapsed on your knees while holding each other and never letting go.

It’s been way too long since you had actual affection. This hug feels so warm, protective, and genuine. You never felt safe, even with what you now had.

Every abuse victim you saved from their abuser, every bruise you received from the fights against said abusers while saving the victims, every tooth you knocked out of the monsters that were supposed to be lovers and families, it can’t undo what your ex did to you years ago.

Not even getting revenge on your ex healed you. It made you feel worse.

Now… you are safe. In the arms of someone who actually loves and cares about you.

It truly will get better soon.

Author’s End Notes: I was going to put visuals on here to make it look less boring, but I didn’t know what to come up with. Probably the most unexpected Ed fic that I was able to finish and post, honestly, because the others are collecting dust in WIP limbo because it’s a mix of writer’s block, becoming caught up in the other things, and of course, thinking that the fic is not good enough to post because my overthinking brain is like, “no one is gonna like this trash, lol,” but I’ve been itching to post more Ed content, and the waiting time for Elena is annoying me on top of having nothing much else to do after 100%ing World Tour Mode, so there’s also that.

The next Ed fic/headcanons are gonna be more lighthearted! 😁

[mumms-the-word]

So I’ve played a bit more Veilguard and y’all

Y’ALL

Y’AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL

Spoilers below the cut (which I may turn into a lore post later idk)

UM SOUTHERN THEDAS IS DYING?

I have everything spoiler tagged and hidden, idk if people are talking about this but EXCUSE ME??

MY WARDENS AND HAWKES ARE IN DANGER

Okay but like let’s think about this for real (I'm going off memory from replaying the "meet the inquisitor" scene like 3-4 times so forgive any missed details; also I disbanded the Inquisition in this game so idk if that has an effect yet)

Inquisitor and Morrigan said that the south is under siege from a legion, an army, a swarm of darkspawn the likes of which Thedas has never seen. Thanks Ghilan’nain for creating new horrors. That sounds bad but then it gets worse

Denerim, a city that has canonically withstood the Fifth Blight and was the showdown site for a battle against a darkspawn army and an archdemon, is lost. We lost the capital of Ferelden.

Everyone is fleeing to Redcliffe, which is decently defensible but not impenetrable. Redcliffe has already suffered waves of undead and (theoretically) a super dark pseudo-future full of demons and red Templars and such. It stood up pretty well against both, but it’s not great if it’s Ferelden’s last stand against the darkspawn.

What about the Hinterlands? Amaranthine? Gwaren? Inquisitor writes that Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds are seeing surges of darkspawn again--that's where the darkspawn poured forth during the Fifth Blight. That's not good!

Orzammar is helping, but I can’t imagine they’re not also suffering. Are the darkspawn flooding the Deep Roads? Orzammar can’t defend against them forever if it’s worse than we think. Are the Legion of the Dead overwhelmed?

Kirkwall has fallen. A city that has withstood, within the last 25 years, a refugee crisis from the Fifth Blight, a violent qunari invasion, the explosion of their Chantry and the ensuing mage-templar chaos that nearly brought the city to its knees, and the Breach, which opened up dozens of Fade rifts in the city that Varric was still dealing with after the Breach was actually closed. It's gone, it's unlivable, so much so that the Acting Viscount had to evacuate her city and her army to freaking Starkhaven, which is usually their mortal enemy (Prince Sebastian Vael tends to want to annex or control Kirkwall smh)

(Also Aveline is Acting Viscount? that makes sense and also I love that for her, but man what a time to be in charge)

Ostwick, the home city for Trevelyans, is threatened by the rogue Antaam, so I can only imagine that Wycome, where a surviving Clan Lavellan would be, is also threatened by the Antaam (Wycome is closer to Antiva and Rivain anyway). And the rest of the Free Marches is apparently experiencing "the worst" of the darkspawn threat. How many cities other than Kirkwall have fallen? Like Ferelden, what's happening in the spaces between?

In Orlais, the darkspawn have apparently cut a line directly through the country. Both Halamshiral and Val Royeaux are barely holding out, which is partly surprising and partly not. Halamshiral and Val Royeaux are luxurious cities, not defensible fortresses. That said, they have the benefit of the Orlesian monarchy's standing army and the Divine's templar (or templar-equivalent) army, so perhaps that's why they're both still standing.

But I imagine the Exalted Plains, the Dales, the desert landscapes of the Western Approach (which already had lingering darkspawn threats)....those must be suffering. Are the Dales themselves blights, the greenery dying? Is the newly-healing land of the Plains now facing death and destruction again?

I mean, yes, the threat of the gods in the north is also very bad but I am stuck on this idea of trying to figure out how our beloved characters from the last three games are dealing with this! This is their turf!

We know the Inquisitor is running around trying to help but what about everyone else? Like, can you imagine...

How is Alistair doing, facing a blight that has been described as "worse than any blight the world has ever seen"? Either he's a warden and he's sick of dealing with this, or he's the king and he's facing the total annihilation of his kingdom again, only this time the odds are infinitely worse. Is his Warden wife fighting alongside him, or is his Queen helping him keep everything together?

What about Zevran? Is he staying in Antiva, causing chaos among the Antaam who have taken over various cities there, or does his Warden romance convince him to go down south to try and help? And Leliana? if she's Divine, she's likely manning the chantry's armed forces, but if not, where is she operating? Is she with her lover, the Warden, or if she's alone, is she back in the game of fielding information to all the necessary forces who need them? She's not the Inquisition spymaster anymore, but that doesn't mean she's not active

Aveline is fleeing to Starkhaven, where Sebastian is, and Varric is with us in the lighthouse. Isabela is with the Lords of Fortune. What about the rest? Did Merrill flee with Aveline? Is Hawke with them? Or is Hawke with Anders, or Fenris, fighting wherever they need to be? (Assuming, of course, they're not left in the Fade). What about Bethany or Carver, if they're alive? If they're Wardens, surely they're in the thick of it, fighting darkspawn. If they're not, have they gone with Aveline to Starkhaven?

And our DAI friends. Cullen is in Ferelden--has he joined forces at Redcliffe, if he's not romancing the Inquisitor? Is his family okay? Dorian is in Minrathous, we can safely assume Josephine is in Antiva City. I can only assume Josephine is trying her best to keep Antiva City safe through her connections and influence, but how long until events there force her to leave too?

Cassandra is from Nevarra so she may be home, or she's Divine, or she's traveling. If she isn't with her romanced Inquisitor and she isn't the Divine, surely she's out there fighting. Against what? Venatori in Nevarra? Or will her allegiances to Orlais bring her down there to aid a Divine Leliana? Sera is still in Orlais too, presumably, as a Jenny that helps the Divine. Are they both facing the darkspawn threat?

If Blackwall is a Warden, is he even still alive? If he's not a Warden, I can imagine he's back in the Free Marches, fighting darkspawn until his dying breath. Iron Bull and his Chargers, too, if they're all alive from DAI. Whether he's in Orlais, Ferelden, the Free Marches, or passing near Tevinter to be with Dorian, he and his team must be constantly dealing with the blight and the gods acting crazy. Unless, of course, he or Blackwall are with the Inquisitor, fighting right there on the front lines.

Vivienne has probably rallied mages in whatever Circle she's established to help, but help how? Joining the forces of the Divine, or leading a campaign of her own? If Cole is human, is he finding little ways of helping, or has he been human so long that he's forgotten how? If he's a spirit, he's back beyond the Veil. Does the chaos in the south now draw him back? How can a spirit of Compassion, whether human or spirit, deal with what is happening all across Thedas?

I have so many thoughts. And I will probably write fic about it. It all just keeps churning in my head. I love it. It's horrifying. The game may have moved on very quickly from it but boy oh boy am I thinking about my Wardens and Hawkes and Inquisitors and going "What are you going to do?? The world is dying!!"

If I learn more I'll turn this into a lore post that isn't hidden by a cut, but for now I have some mural memories to live through (time to cry about Solas again) and then it's side quest city babyyyy so idk when I'll have an update again lol

if you made it this far, well done :') appreciate you

thank for joining me in this chaos!

[jupiter-soups]

a sheep in wolf's clothing

pairing + tag: joel miller x f!reader, established relationship, fluff

summary: joel miller is not quite as scary as the people of jackson believe him to be. at least, not around you.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: kinda been dealing with some writers block and i thought i'd write a cute fluffy one shot to deal with it. please let me know what you think! also, thank you to the incredible @papipascalispunk for beta-ing!

The swing of Joel’s sledgehammer squarely met the metal pole, pushing it down further into the hard earth with a raw strength that made the pair of teens watching grimace.

“God, he’s scary today. Why’s he hulking out so much? Who pissed him off?” The taller of the teens, Nathan, whispers to his friend, whilst leaning against his shovel for support. 

“I don’t know, but whoever it is better get their shit together, because he’s gonna end up snapping. We do not want to be here for that,” Callum responds with a conspiratorial tone, gesturing for Nathan to come closer so he could divulge some gossip.

“Apparently, before he got to Jackson, he was this total killing machine, just ruthless, relentless and bloodthirsty,” Callum stagewhispers, peeking out of the corner of his eye to where Joel was clearly funneling pure rage in each swing of his hammer.

“Why would they even let some mad man in here with us?” Nathan responds nervously, with much less subtlety in how he was eyeing Joel’s movements and his apparent familiarity with swinging a blunt object.

“I guess he adopted Ellie, or something. Maybe that mellowed him out a bit?” Callum winces at a particularly hard swing of the hammer, one that made Joel grunt out in effort, wiping the back of his hand against his forehead as he stepped back, seemingly satisfied with his work.

“Clearly not enough. Ellie’s dad, huh?” Nathan lets out a huff of an exhale, reminiscing on a particularly painful evening where his romantic advances on Ellie were met with a swift and brutally painful punch in the gut. “Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Their gossiping fades away into a terrified silence, as Joel stalks up to where they’re standing, walking slowly and with eyes slightly narrowed. The two practically shrink under his gaze as he approaches.

“You two just gonna stand around all day or get to fuckin’ work like the rest of us,” Joel grits out, the furrow of his brow informing the two that they were nowhere near quiet enough when gossiping.

“Uh, I–”

“We were j–”

“Stop fuckin’ around and dig.” Before Joel even finished his sentence, the pair scrambles back over to the patch of soil they were assigned to clear, working with a vigor that they didn’t even know they were capable of. 

—-----------

Joel had sort of assumed that the rumors about him had died down. No one crossed the street when they saw him anymore. No one even begged to get swapped to a different patrol route when grouped with him, terrified of what he might do outside of the safety of laws and watchful eyes in Jackson. 

He shifts his head from side to side as he walks home on the barely illuminated streets, stretching out the strain from working all day. He holds a paper bag close to his body, trying to keep it dry from the light rainfall that had begun at some point between him leaving the building site and stopping at the bakery. 

A smile breaks through his cold exterior as he finally approaches his house and sees the living room light still on, a beacon welcoming him home.

To you.

In his eagerness to see you, he forgot to take off his dirty work boots, a fact you quickly remind him of with a croaky call of “Shoes!”, the second he turned the corner into the living room. 

“Sorry, baby,” He laughs quietly, tossing the paper bag he was carrying onto your lap where you were sprawled out on the couch, before heading back into the hall to kick off his boots.

You gasp in excitement as you open the paper bag and see three of your favorite caramel cookies from the bakery, immediately regretting it as your throat stung from the act.

The cold that currently had you couchridden under the warm embrace of a thick woolen blanket had also meant that you weren’t able to pick up the rare treats. The bakery only made them once a month, and typically ran out by noon. Your heart swelled as you realized Joel must have gone out of his way on an already busy day, just to get them for you.

“How did you manage to get three of them?” You ask in awe as he reenters the room and moves to join you where you were sitting, lifting your extended legs to rest his back against the back of the couch and placing them over his lap. His hands settled on your legs, rubbing them gently through your thick winter pajama pants. 

“Guess there’s some good in being scary, ol’ Joel Miller,” He chuckles, taking a cookie from your extended hand and taking a bite.

You begin to sit up slightly to take a bite too, but visibly wince when your head begins to spin from the movement. Joel stops you instantly, dropping his cookie back into the bag on your lap to rearrange your pillows behind you into a slightly more seated position.

“You’re still not doing well,” He tuts, disapproval radiating off of him in a way that made you want to roll your eyes. “Shouldn’ta made me go to work today, darlin’, I should’a been here for you.”

“Joel,” you reassure, “I’m completely fine, barely got the sniffles at this point.” He raises an eyebrow at your blatant lie, taking in the sweaty sheen on your forehead and nasally voice before sighing and settling back into his seat. You weren’t in a state to argue.

“So, big, bad Joel Miller scares the town folk into giving him extra cookies?” You tease, drawing a laugh out of the guilty man sitting next to you. His grip on your shins loosens slightly as he begins to actually relax again, much to your satisfaction. He was already stressed enough in the morning when he had to leave you to go fill in for someone at the construction site, almost canceling after you spent most of the night awake, shivering and sniffling. You didn’t want him to feel even more guilty, regardless of the fact that you had been the one who insisted that he goes. 

“You should’a heard some of the stuff they were sayin’ about me today,” He shook his head in feigned disbelief, well aware of his reputation. “Somethin’ about being ruthless and relentless,”

You laugh through a bite of the cookie, “I could see that.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Oh, really?”

“At least the relentless part. There’s been more than a few times I’ve had to tap out,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively at him, causing him to shake his head at you, trying to fight back the way his lips were turning up at the corners in amusement. 

He watches you finish off the second cookie in a comfortable silence, a faint smile on his face as he observes the absolute glee in your eyes with each bite. His fingers begin to play with the hem of your pajama pants the more he watches you, and you can sense the slight anxiety in his movements.

“Stop worrying, Joel, I was fine. I promise. You know the building team needed you today.”

He grumbles a quiet response that you don’t quite make out, something about ‘incompetent,’ and ‘ill-equipped,’ before turning his annoyance to you, “I already know you didn’t drink enough water.”

You nudge him gently in the stomach with your knee, prompting him to drop it, which he does with a moody sigh.

“How was Ellie today?” He opts to change the subject.

“Not been around too much. She’s still running around after Dina, thinking she's so slick. I know we need to wait for her to come to us about it, but I wish she would just tell us already.” His soft brown eyes betray the unease he felt at the issue.

“I hope…” He trails off in a worried tone that’s familiar to you; the, I think I’m fucking up tone. “I hope she doesn’t think she can’t talk to me about it.” You reach your hand out and grab his, big and warm and immediately squeezing and rubbing your hand within his to warm up your freezing fingers. ”I suppose I can be a little scary sometimes. Those kids down at the site sure thought so,” He chuckles once, humorlessly and self-deprecatingly, reaching over to grab your other hand to warm up that one too.

“There’s no fucking way, Joel. Maybe those kids who’ve never been outside of the walls for a day in their lives were scared of you, but we know you’re a big ol’ softie. Besides, there’s not much that scares Ellie. Definitely not an old man that she could easily beat in a fight,” You tease, relieved when his shoulders seem to relax a little. 

Joel leans forward, cupping your chin in his hand to pull you in for a kiss. You don’t let him indulge, perhaps for the first time in your relationship. “Joel, I’ll just get you sick too. You gotta be back at work tomorrow, remember?” Your heart squeezes at the almost pout on his face, but he doesn’t push the matter, instead starting to get up with a grunt, gently placing your legs back down on the couch where he had been sat. He turns to you with an expectant look and reaches out a hand.

“Let’s head up to bed, darlin’,”

You blink. “Joel, I just said I can’t get you sick. I’ll just sleep down here for the night, the couch is comfy enough.”

His hand stays extended for a moment, before letting it drop. “Fine,” he states resolutely, “I suppose I’ll see you in the mornin’, then?” His voice seems almost too innocent, and your suspicions are confirmed when he drags the warm blanket from your body in one swift motion and starts walking towards the stairs. 

“Joel!” You exclaim, “What the fuck?” 

He pauses part way up the stairs to your bedroom and gives you a nonchalant shrug. “This is my blanket. Can’t go to sleep without it.” He turns back and continues to head up the stairs. You grumble at the real satisfied little smirk on his face as he does so.

“But…” You groan and roll off the warm couch, and begin to plod up the stairs to your shared bed. 

Fine, if he wants to get sick so badly, I’ll let him. 

—-------------

“Shouldn’ Miller be here by now?” Nathan says as he eyes the entrance to the build site nervously, doing his best to appear busy.

“I guess he’s sick today, heard he got a fever or something.” Callum’s words instantly ease Nathan’s rigid posture.

“Thank God for that,” He mutters, letting the shovel in his hands drop to the ground with a relieved sigh. 

“Or maybe,” Callum smiled sinisterly, “He’s out plotting his next kil–” He’s cut off when a hand is smacked down onto the nape of his neck, turning into a painful grip that swivels his head in the direction of his assailant and the project’s latest stand-in worker, Ellie Williams.

“Why don’t you fucks get back to work, hmm?” Her grip tightens on the back of Callum’s neck, and he visibly flinches under her exacting gaze. Nathan gulps and reaches to pick up his shovel as quickly as possible. Joel Miller was definitely not the scariest person in Jackson

tags: @gasolinerainbowpuddles @beardedjoel @huffle-punk

thank you for reading <3 please let me know your thoughts :)

[boneapplet]

Servo Sanctum pt 6

Relationship: oc!Blood Angel x machine/afab!reader

Word Count: 1223

Requested Tags for All Works: @beckyninja @runin64 @ilovewolvezz

Masterlist

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6

The descent is slow, controlled. No one speaks. Even the Astartes tread with care, boots pressing into dust that hasn’t been disturbed in millennia. The echoes of their movements bend strangely in the silence, reverberations muffled, returned, and folded back again as though the space itself refuses to forget.

The woman leads the children with measured precision. Mar gripping Pip’s hand tightly, her eyes darting between shadows. Elric walks last among them, one hand near the handle of a broken blade he barely knows how to use, the other brushing the wall—half out of curiosity, half to anchor himself.

Brother Gaius moves at point beside Dace, power sword drawn but unlit, its weight a quiet promise. Halix stalks the upper edge of their path, helm sweeping slowly. Verno covers their rear, bolter cradled with calm, lethal intent.

“What are we walking into?” Verno murmurs.

Dace’s voice answers low. “Something predating the Imperium. Dark Age of Technology at the latest, maybe even Old Earth’s late Golden Age. The Mechanicus never marked this site. It's older than the city above.”

“And yet it remembers us,” Halix adds darkly.

Dace doesn’t respond. His mind is elsewhere, drawn to the warping of sensation around him. The Warp didn’t scream here as it did near corruption. It pulses. Measured. Curious. Like fingers brushing the edge of a veil.

The tunnel spirals downward, its shape unnatural—not carved, not built, but grown. The walls curve with layered striations like muscle fiber, shooting through with branching veins of ambered glass. Thin streams of red light pulsing within them, moving in rhythm with the team's slow advance.

At a sloped landing, the woman halts. Her gaze locks on a set of half-sunken alloy doors ahead. No mechanisms. No hinges. Just a seamless surface, until faint glyphs shimmer into view across its length, triggered by her proximity.

“They tried to seal it,” she says quietly. “They failed.”

Dace steps up beside her. The door gives off a hum beneath the surface, barely audible, but thrumming with ancient energy.

“Can you open it?”

“I can try,” she says. “But I was made to walk within. Not command. That was never mine.”

Placing her hand flat against the door. For a breath, nothing. Then a sharp hiss cuts the stillness, pressurized locks disengaging one by one with a sequence of mechanical sighs. The seam splits open down the middle. Dust spills outward. Light, golden and muted, follows. Cautiously, they step inside.

The chamber beyond is different. Not like the tomb-architecture above. Vaulted ceilings arch over walls embedded with seamless alcoves, benches grown directly from the floor. The walls are etched with stylized murals, figures in power armor, but taller, broader. Their faces are human but blurred. Their forms are precise but exaggerated. Each holding a different tool, a different weapon. One holds a globe of light. The illumination comes from recessed rods, long bones of photonic alloy that pulse in warm rhythm.

“This wasn’t a shelter,” Dace murmurs. “This was a testing ground.”

“A lab,” the woman agrees, though her voice held no certainty. “Or a vault for what they feared to forget.”

Pip creeps forward before Mar yanks him back. The child paused near a mural showing a figure wreathed in radiant circuitry, wings arcing from its back like golden fanblades. Not Sanguinius. Not a god. But something aspirational.

Elric looked to the woman. “Was that you?”

She stared at the wall, her voice faint. “No. But I was patterned after it.”

None of the Astartes speak. Even for them, warriors who have seen the worst of humanity and beyond, there is something sacred here. Something dangerous in the shape of memory. Dace approaches the center of the room. A dais of ringed design rises there, thin silver filaments webbing outward from its core. A console of unknown making rests dormant at the heart of it, layered in thick dust.

He reaches toward it, then halts. Something is watching. Not in the Warp. Not above. Below. Turning his head slowly, psychic sense flaring like a struck chord. The resonance here is no longer dormant, it is listening.

“Seal the entry,” he says sharply. “Now.”

Halix and Verno move without hesitation, shifting wreckage and engaging what lockdown mechanisms remained.

Dace doesn’t look away from the console.

“Hold a defensive ring,” he commands. “Nothing enters. Nothing leaves until we know what’s here.”

He touched the edge of the dais, the console coming to life. Deep beneath them, something shifts in response. The moment Dace's gauntlet makes contact, the console’s surface ripples, not like metal, but like water disturbed. Glyphs blooming across its face in radiant strands of gold, rearranging faster than even an Astartes could track. Not Gothic. Not in the tongue of the Mechanicus. Not even true language as the Imperium knows it. But intelligible, somehow. A neural echo whispers into his mind.

:: Welcome, Geneline 193-Vermillion. Authority: Conditional. ::

Dace staggers, eyes flaring with psychic light. He understands. Not through translation, but recognition. As if the meaning has always existed in some long-lost corner of his consciousness, waiting to be remembered.

Verno notices the shift. “Librarian? What is it?”

Dace doesn’t answer immediately. His hands hover above the console, instinctively interacting with it. Each gesture calling forth new hololithic projections—schematics of the vault, deep sub-structures, data-crypts locked by command-coding, and names. So many names. Project files. Directives. Fail-safes.

Vault Designation: SERVITORUM DOMINAE — THETA-CELL.

Date of Origin: Late Middle Epoch of the Dark Age of Technology.

Purpose: Preservation of Adaptive Command Constructs.

The hololith shifts again. A human figure shimmers to life. Male. Tall. Grey-robed. Eyes covered by a helm shaped like a downward-turned key. His voice comes through the vault like wind through wires.

:: If you are hearing this, then the Seal has degraded. The surface world has forgotten its warnings. ::

The recording pulses with age, full of static, but discernible.

:: You stand within a Sanctuary of Patterned Will. Those stored within were not made to lead empires, but to remember them. We locked away what survived the fall—constructs, archivists, warforms… and the Flamebearer. ::

The projection glitches slightly, shifting to a complex diagram, one section highlighted. A lower chamber. Deeper.

Dace exhales sharply. “There’s another level.”

The woman, silent until now, steps closer, her expression unreadable. “I was never permitted access to that depth.”

Dace turns to her, wary. “But you knew it existed.”

“I suspected,” she admits. “But I woke too late. I thought it lost.”

The vault flickers again, the image of the hooded figure returns.

:: If the Flamebearer stirs, all protocols must be renewed. Only those of sanctioned gene-pattern may enter. Others will be… repelled. ::

“What is it?” Halix asks, voice low.

Dace stares at the projection. “A machine. A memory. A weapon.”

“No,” the woman corrected, softly.

“A soul.”

The lights dim as the vault trembles faintly, like tectonic breath. A path opens—floor panels withdrawing, revealing a staircase of light leading deeper. Dace looks at his brothers.

“We go,” he says.

Gaius steps to his side, power sword igniting with a hiss. “Lead on.”

The woman hesitates, turning to the children. “Stay.” Mar nods, her face grave. Dace watches the synthetic woman as she joins them. They descend together into the sanctum’s true heart. Behind them, the vault closes.

[hellaverseconfessions1369420]

Long confession ahead, apologies in advance.

Look, I don't get heated about shipping. I like what I like, and I look at things I like. If I don't like whatever someone is posting, I'll filter the tags, and if they aren't using the tags appropriately, I will block them. It's fairly easy for me to avoid ships I personally dislike most of the time. I do all of the things I'm supposed to, and yet I'm still having this problem.

There is one singular ship on God's green earth that kills all of my enjoyment for both of the characters involved, and it is radioapple. I have never felt such strong emotions about any other ship before in any of the fandoms I'm part of. It's fucking everywhere. I genuinely cannot use this website if I want to see Lucifer or Alastor fanart/fanfic, and I'm not moving sites.

But God. I'm so fucking sick and tired of seeing "this post contains filtered content: #radioapple." When S1 first came out, I counted 37 blocked posts in a row on top of #Alastor on one given day. I had to scroll through 37 blocked fucking posts before I found ONE that wasn't about fucking radioapple. And that isn't counting all the OTHER Alastor ships, because of course that's all anyone gives a shit about anymore.

I'm on mobile, so I can't use browser extensions to make Tumblr's filtering system actually do what I want it to (delete every radioapple post, forever). I also don't feel like buying a laptop for fucking Tumblr. I've been getting back into HH after falling out of it for a while for related reasons, and I forgot how much angrier and more unhappy I am coming out of #Alastor or (to a lesser extent) #Lucifer than when I went in. Which is super awesome considering they're my two faves.

I wish I was kidding when I say I have actually cried real tears more than once over this. I'm aroace, and I thought maybe for once I'd get to feel at least a little bit included and represented in fandom as a whole. I thought having a canon aroace character would be that for me, at least one tag I could semi-comfortably browse and feel like I'm actually part of shit and not a spectator for once, but obviously not. I don't even get to look at fanart of a character I enjoy without being constantly reminded of how different and alone I am, even when that character is different in exactly the same way as me. Even characters like Alastor that are written to be like me aren't written for me. Because why would anyone create anything for someone like me to enjoy when they could instead jam a little more sex and romance in there?

I once scrolled through #Alastor blocking all the radioapple posters for so long that I reached the bottom of the page. Tumblr would not show me any more posts and I had to reload it. I blocked 209 different blogs, and it barely made a dent. 209. I can't curate my way out of this. I genuinely think I just don't get to like those characters anymore, and it fucking sucks. I want my deer man back.

TL;DR: I cannot enjoy these characters I deeply relate to with how prevalent and fucking inescapable this one ship is, and I'm not sure how to fix it. Frankly I'm not sure it's fixable, but I would love it if this wasn't something else I just don't get to have like everyone else. Someone tell me what to do about this. I want to have fun too.

I understand why you would think that. I’m probably aroaceflux and I can see some alastor in me (aroacewise, not serial killer wise) and why you wouldn’t want to see the ships you don’t like. Unfortunately that’s how many fandoms work, they’ll just keep shipping.

to be honest, I don’t know what to say, but thanks for the confession and I hope things get better for you

[witchajfics]

The Witching Hour: A Teen Wolf Rewrite

Hi! My name is AJ and I am an aspiring writer. This is my first ever work on this site, and one of my first ever written pieces, so please be kind! I always want to improve my writing and story so suggestions will be considered! :) I also don't know how to tag this properly, so if any are incorrect or if I should add more, let me know!! I will try to keep updates consistent, but I am a senior in high school, so please be patient! This work is just for fun and is just a silly little project I'm doing for my enjoyment, so if you don't like it, don't read it! I'm going to be dividing each episode into 2-3 parts, and I will be ATTEMPTING to go through the entire series and the movie. There will be multiple love interests that feature different tropes, etc. NOT BETA READ OR PERFECT BY ANY MEANS!!

I do not own Teen Wolf or any Teen Wolf properties, this is merely for fun, all characters from Teen Wolf belong to like Jeff Davis or the creators of the show thx bye

This work will be mostly canon-compliant and include many scenes from the show. However, some scenes will be cut, due to their lack of relevance to Anni. Direct quotes from the show will be used as this is a rewrite. Some stuff is also from the official transcript. Some time differences will change for the sake of the protagonist. For the sake of storytelling, Beacon Hills High is 8th-12th grade. Also, Lydia's involvement with the story and the characters (namely Stiles) will be altered to allow Anni to be involved. Don't worry she's still in! She will just be a minor/recurring character instead of a main one. My face claim for Anni is Samantha Logan (once she gets older), except she has green eyes. Now, without further ado, my Teen Wolf Rewrite!

Posted on AO3 Here

Wattpad

Season 1 Episode 1 (Part 1): Wolf Moon

Anni was going to scream. The short-tempered girl was currently trying to get her much needed beauty rest, but all she could hear was her brother’s stupid loud ass rock music. God, could these walls be any thinner? Anni thought, rubbing her eyes and shoving her face into her pillow. The song suddenly dissolved into a drum solo and Anni threw the pillow across her room in frustration, groaning loudly. Just as she was about to grace her darling brother with her fuming presence, the music stopped. Anni waits for a tick, standing next to her door frame, prepared for it to start again. Two minutes pass, and no sound is heard from Scott’s room. She lets out a relieved sigh and jumps headfirst back into her bed. Tucking herself under the blanket, she snuggles into her pillow, her eyes falling shut as she falls into unconsciousness…and then she hears the screams of two idiot teenage boys.

“God fucking dammit, Scott!” She screams, once again, tossing her poor pillow across the room. Stomping out of her room and down the stairs, she walks out onto her porch and sees her brother dearest and his partner in crime.

“Can you be a little mindful of others, for once, Scott? Maybe don’t blast your shitty ass rock music at 11 PM for ALL OTHER MEMBERS OF THIS HOUSEHOLD TO HEAR ?! Especially those whose room is right next to yours, and have extremely thin walls!” Anni growls in frustration, and then turns on Stiles who is still hanging upside down from the trellis, “And you…! This is not your house, Stiles. Why are you here?”

Scott opens his mouth to bite back at his little sister and defend his questionable music taste, but Stiles beats him to it.

“Look, I know it’s late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called-they’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even state police.”

Scott frowns, “For what?”

Stiles, looking way too excited for what he’s about to announce, reaches up to pull himself free of the trellis, landing on his feet in front of the McCall siblings.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods,” Stiles states, barely containing his glee.

Anni’s eyes widened in surprise, her mouth falling open slightly. Nothing ever happens in Beacon Hills. The last “major” crime that happened was some gas station getting robbed of 37 bags of flamin’ hot Cheetos two years ago. Scott continued to look confused.

“Wait, seriously?” Anni said as Scott asked, “What, a dead body?”

Anni rolled her eyes at her older brother’s stupidity, as Stiles reached up and leaned on the railing to look at Scott at eye level with a sarcastic expression.

“No, a body of water, Scott. Yes, dumbass, a dead body!” Stiles exclaimed as Scott looked a bit unnerved about this news while Stiles climbs over the railing to get onto the porch.

“Thank God I’m adopted,” Anni mumbles, as Scott shoots her a glare, and Stiles snorts.

Scott turns back to Stiles, his grip tightening on the baseball bat in his hand.

“You mean, like, murdered?” Scott said as Anni leaned against the porch railing next to him.

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on,” Anni began, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow, “If they found the body, then what are they looking for?”

Scott nods in agreement with his sister and looks back at Stiles who breaks into a grin.

“That’s the best part-they only found half.”

Anni pushes herself off the rail of the porch, standing up straight, her mind racing. No way she’ll be going to sleep now.

Scott still looks hesitant, but Stiles says, “We’re going,” in a tone that makes it clear that Scott doesn’t have a say in what happens next.

The two boys rush off the porch, heading in the direction of Stiles’ Jeep, about to climb into the car. Anni rushes after them, grabbing Scott’s arm.

“Wait! I’ll come too,” she says, trying to match the tone of finality Stiles had used with Scott before, to convince them to let her go.

“No,” both boys said immediately, without even a second thought or a glance at Anni.

Anni scoffs, grabbing onto the open window on the passenger side of the Jeep.

“Why not?! I wanna see the dead body too, ya know! You guys never let me come!” she huffs, examining how big the passenger window was and if she was fast enough to crawl into it without Scott throwing her out.

“It’s way too dangerous,” Stiles said, starting up the car, “And besides, you’re a little too young for this kind of action. You’re only 14.” Scott nods in agreement, attempting to pry Anni’s fingers off the open window.

“You guys are only two years older than me! And what kind of protection do you guys have that I don’t?! If there’s a murderer out there, you guys will get just as murdered as me!”

“Nuh-uh,” said Stiles, in a very mature way.

“Yuh-huh,” responded Anni, equally as mature.

The two went back and forth for a while, until Scott said, “Okay, that’s enough! Anni, you’re not coming! I’m not letting you go out into the woods in the middle of the night to hunt for a corpse. Pretty sure I would win Worst Big Brother of the Year if I did that.”

Anni huffed, clenching her hands into fists.

“Fine! If you won’t let me come then I’ll…I’ll tell Mom!”

Scott narrowed his eyes at Anni, looking her up and down.

“You wouldn’t.”

Anni attempts to hold his glare but loses the battle after a moment.

“Okay, fine, yeah, I won’t, but you guys suck!” Anni sighs, cursing herself for not being snitch.

Scott grins at Anni, patting her on the head, which she swats away.

“We’ll be back later tonight, or tomorrow morning. Go sleep!”

Anni shoots a withering glare at her brother and Stiles and says, “I hope you guys get lost in the woods and die.”

“Aw, America’s sweetheart, aren't you?” Stiles says sarcastically, pulling out of the driveway, as Scott laughs.

Anni flips him off, and stomps inside, closing the door behind her. She watches as the Jeep peels out of the driveway and drives down the street, making a left at the end of the road.

She sighs, bringing her hand up to run through her curls, and begins to walk up the stairs to her room. She enters, shuts the door, and then collapses on her bed. She stares at the ceiling for a moment, before rolling onto her side and facing the wall. Anni shuts her eyes, trying to fall asleep. Just as she is about to lose consciousness, her eyes fly open and begin to glow bright emerald green. Flashing images fill her vision. Stiles’ Jeep, Sheriff Stiliniski, Scott lying on the forest ground, flashlights, and what looks like a wolf, but…almost humanoid? Suddenly, the visions stop. Her eyes return to their normal shade of sage green, and Anni immediately reaches up to rub her eyes. What the actual fuck. Anni glances around her room for a few moments and then looks at the clock on her nightstand. Midnight it reads. I must be more sleep-deprived than I thought, Anni thinks. She lays back down, shutting her eyes. Alright, maybe 3rd time’s the charm. She takes a deep breath and lets the land of dreams take her for the night.

..

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep-!

Anni groans and swings her arm in the general direction of her bedside table until she hits the snooze button on her alarm clock. Without opening her eyes, she stretches and groans even louder. She sucks in a deep breath and sits up on her bed. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes sliding out of bed, and stumbles her way to the bathroom. Turning on the light, she faces the mirror, observing her morning reflection. Her curls were flying every which way, her under-eyes darkened with eye-bags, and sniff may need a shower. Anni glances at the clock on the wall, checking how much time she has before she needs to dash out the door. It reads 6:40. 20 minutes, Anni thought, okay, I can take a quick shower.

Anni quickly undresses, grabs her loofah, and all her hair products, and hops in the shower. She finishes quickly, drying off, and plugs in her diffuser. She teases her curls, letting them stay down, rather than do any intricate hairstyle. She squeezes the last of her toothpaste on her toothbrush, making a mental note to tell Scott to get more, and begins to brush. She peeks at the clock, the time being 6:55. She spits, puts her toothbrush back, and runs downstairs.

Anni rushes to the kitchen, looking for something to eat quickly. She opens the fridge and finds nothing, going to close the door until she sees something metal on the fridge door. She picks it up and sees that it’s Scott’s house keys. Rolling her eyes, she puts them in her pocket, opens the cabinet to grab a pop tart and scarf it down.

“SCOOOOOOTTT!” Anni yells, her mouth full of pop-tart, “LET’S GO WE’RE GONNA BE LATE!”

As Anni tugs her Docs on, Scott comes rushing down the stairs, tugging his shirt over his head. He grabs his bag and looks around wildly for his keys.

Anni turns, “Looking for your keys? I got them, let’s go,” and turns to open and walk out the door.

“I told you to stop touching my shit, Anni!” Scott grumbles, following after her and shutting the door behind him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted your keys cool, sire,” Anni says sarcastically, tossing the keys to Scott, who catches them at the last second.

“What are you talking about?” Scott asks, as the two walk to the side of the house to grab their bikes.

“You left your keys in the fridge from…whenever you came back,” Anni said, squinting at her brother suspiciously.

Scott blinked, “I did…? I didn’t even… never mind. Thanks, I guess.” He grabbed his bike handles, and began walking it to the pavement.

Anni furrowed her brows and grabbed her bike and did the same. As Scott was about to start pedaling, Anni put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Okay, what’s your problem? What happened last night? Why are you so out of it?” she asked, stepping in front of his bike.

Scott shook his head, “Nothing. Nothing happened. I just got lost, that’s all.”

“‘I just got lost’? As in you were alone? Stiles left you?” Anni frowned, trying to meet Scott’s shifty eyes. “Hey, look at me! Tell me the truth. What the fuck is going on with you?!”

Scott swallowed and lifted his shirt, showing the white bandage covering the bite mark he received the previous night. “Stiles didn’t mean to leave me,” he said, “He got caught by his Dad and didn’t rat me out, so I just started to head home. But, I got lost, and then these deer ran out, and I fell, and something bit me, and…I don’t know. I’m just tired. And I feel weird.”

Anni’s face twisted in concern as she peered down at the bite mark, experimentally poking it. Scott hissed and slapped her hand away. “Sorry,” Anni said sheepishly, “Maybe you should get it checked out. What if you, like, got rabies or some shit?”

“Rabies?” Scott questioned, “I would be foaming at the mouth by now.”

“Well, I don’t know, man! I’m not a doctor! Maybe ask Deaton about it or something.”

“Deaton? My boss Deaton? He’s a vet, Anni. I’m not a dog!”

Anni smirked, “Could’ve fooled me. You sure do act like one. And smell like one too,” she said, playfully holding her nose, “Ugh! Take a shower or something, dude!”

Scott rolled his eyes, and shoved Anni to the side, beginning to pedal down the road. “Thanks for the two seconds of genuine concern,” he said sarcastically, “It was almost touching.”

Anni hopped on her bike and began following him as they started down towards their school.

“Hey! I’m still pissed at you, you know! I hate when you leave me out when you go off to do cool things! I like dead bodies too!” Anni huffs, glaring at her brother biking next to her.

“Oh, great, Stiles has finally rubbed off on you. Glad you like corpses, NiNi,” he grumbles, “And, oh, I’m sorry, did you want to get bitten by some freak animal in the woods? My bad, next time I’ll make sure you get that opportunity,” Scott says dryly.

The two continue bickering as they enter the school parking lot and leave their bikes at the bike rack. Scott takes his helmet off, and is about to argue back to Anni, when he’s hit with a car door from behind, stumbling forward slightly. He looks behind him, frowning, to see Jackson Whittemore in all his asshole glory. Anni peeks out from behind Scott to see who it is and rolls her eyes once she takes in the silver Porsche. She takes her helmet off, and rests it on her handlebars, stepping onto the sidewalk. Jackson steps out of his car, eyeing Scott, and slams his car door shut.

“Dude! Watch the paint job,” he says, shoulder-checking Scott, who sports an expression of bewilderment. Jackson looks to the right, and spots Anni. He looks her up and down and smirks, licking his lips. “Hey mini McCall,” he says, sauntering over to her, “How was your summer?” He grins and throws an arm around her shoulders.

Anni’s face morphs into disgust and pushes Jackson’s arm off of her. Scott steps forward, moving to defend his sister, but Anni puts her hand up to stop him, wanting to deal with it herself.

“It was much better before you got here,” Anni said dryly, shoulder-checking Jackson as she walked closer to the school entrance. Jackson quickly followed, glaring at Scott as he passed him, stepping in front of Anni, and forcing her to stop.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that, babe,” he drawled, “You know I was just joking around with Scotty over there. A little friendly fire between teammates. Nothing to worry your pretty, little head about.” He smirked and patted her head. “C’mon, you doing anything after school today? I’ll take you for a ride, and then maybe…you could ride something else, huh?” he grinned.

Anni fixed Jackson with a glare that could kill God, while Scott looked straight-up murderous. “You’re disgusting,” Anni hissed, batting his hands away from her, “You’re an asshole and I’m not interested. Oh, wait, sorry. Do I need to dumb that down for you? I’ll spell it out for you,” she smirked, “N-O-T I-N-T-E-R-E-S-”

Cutting her off, Jackson huffed, “Fine. Be a bitch, what do I care? You just lost your chance.” He goes to say something else, but he’s called by one of his friends and stalks off.

Anni faces Scott again, and shivers in disgust. “God, I hate that guy!” she says, “I’ve never met someone as entitled as he is. It’s a talent.”

Scott nods in agreement, slinging his arm around his sister’s shoulders and walking them both toward Stiles. “You okay, though? Glad you handled it yourself, but I could’ve stepped in.”

“Yeah, I’m good. I just wanna move on at this point,” Anni says as the siblings approach Stiles, who is standing under a tree waiting for them. Scott nods, and Stiles walks his way over to them.

“Okay, let’s see this thing,” Stiles says, as Scott pulls up his shirt to show Stiles the bite mark which is covered in gauze and tape that has a small amount of blood leaking through. “Ooh,” he says, making a face, as he pokes the bandage.

“Woah!” Scott exclaims, flinching at his touch, “What is it with you two poking my wounds?”

“Wait,” Anni said, narrowing her gaze at the boys, “You told Stiles about what happened and not me? You just lent this information out to him, and I had to practically drag it out of you this morning!” Anni snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.

The two boys look at each other sheepishly, feeling slightly bad. Scott rubs his hand over his neck and says, “Well…I told him last night. And…you were asleep. So…”

Anni rolled her eyes at his shitty excuses and deep breathed. “Whatever, let’s just drop it. But, going forward, you need to tell me shit like this okay? Mom would kill me if I knew that you snuck out and you ended up with rabies.”

“Okay, for the last time, I don’t have rabies! And if I did happen to have it, I’d be thrilled to learn that your only concern would be getting grounded,” he snapped back, “Anyway, it was too dark to see much, but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”

Anni raised her brows, recalling the strange incident that happened the other night. The wolf…Scott alone in the forest…him falling…could it be…real? No. No, it can’t be. That’s impossible. It was probably her worry about her brother infecting her dreams or something…but she wasn’t exactly asleep then, was she? A scoff interrupted her thought, as she snapped her head up to Stiles who was looking at Scott in disbelief.

“A wolf bit you?” Stiles said incredulously.

“Uh-huh,” Scott said, raising an eyebrow at his friend’s strange reaction.

Stiles shakes his head and gives him a look that says he thinks Scott is being dense. Scott knows this look well, as he receives it frequently from both Stiles and his sister.

“No, not a chance,” Stiles said matter-of-factly.

“I heard a wolf howling,” Scott said confused.

“No, you didn’t,” Stiles scoffed, shaking his head. The trio started walking closer to the school entrance, as the bell was going to ring soon.

“What do you mean, ‘No, I didn’t?’ How do you know what I heard?” Scott said, frustrated.

“Because California doesn’t have wolves, okay? Not in, like, sixty years.”

The trio stop on the staircase as Scott and Stiles begin bickering again and Anni thinks about this new information. I guess if there are no wolves then…there’s no way what I saw could be true, right? I was probably just really, really sleep-deprived. Anni blinks out of her thoughts and focuses on the two boys in front of her.

“Well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf, then you’re definitely not gonna believe me about when I tell you I found the body,” Scott said, grinning at his best friend and sister.

Both Anni and Stiles jolt at this, whipping to face each other and exchanging a look in excitement. They both grab onto Scott’s arms, shaking him energetically.

“You-are you kidding me?” Stiles asked enthusiastically.

“No, man, I wish. I’m gonna have nightmares for a month.”

“Oh, god, that is freakin’ awesome! I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that’s happened to this town since-” Stiles cuts himself off, as the Queen Bee Lydia Martin walks towards the trio. “-Since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey, Lydia! You look-” Stiles once again cuts himself off as Lydia walks right past Stiles, completely oblivious to the fact that he is talking to her. “-Like you’re gonna ignore me…”

Anni and Scott attempt to hold in their laughter as their friend shoots and completely misses. “Someone should tell that girl that her boyfriend is flirting with other girls openly,” Anni said, exchanging a look with Scott.

Stiles whips around, grabbing Anni by the shoulders. “What? How do you know Jackson’s trying to cheat on Lydia?” he says as he slightly shakes Anni by her shoulders.

Anni lightly shoves Stiles’ hands off her shoulders with an amused expression on her face. “Uh, because he just tried to flirt with me,” Anni says matter-of-factly, “I obviously shot him down because he’s a disgusting pig, so I just feel bad for Lydia for having to put up with it. She could get any guy in the school, but for some reason, she chooses fucking Jackson Whittemore.”

Scott nods in agreement, but Stiles is left staring at Anni with his mouth agape. “Wait…Jackson Whittemore flirted with…you?” he asks incredulously.

“Um, yeah?” Anni said, confused at Stiles’ change in tone.

Stiles makes a face like he was physically hurt by Jackson’s actions. Anni continues to look confused at his reaction, as it seems to be more directed towards her than Lydia. She glances over at Scott who doesn’t seem to look confused at all. In fact, he looks like he knows something the other two don’t know at all… Anni opens her mouth to comment, but the bell rings and cuts her off. Stiles shakes his head like he was in a daze, and then looks toward Scott.

“You’re the cause of this, you know,” Stiles says to Scott, narrowing his eyes at him. The boy in question just rolls his eyes and begins leading his friend and sister into the building.

“Uh-huh,” Scott says, already beginning to tune Stiles out.

“Draggin’ me down to your nerd depths. I’m a nerd by association. I’ve been Scarlet-nerded by you,” Stiles says, almost walking into a pole.

Anni snorts and tugs Stiles away from the evil pole. The trio stops as they enter the building, each of them taking out their schedules. Scott and Stiles have English together first, while Anni has Algebra first.

“I’ll see you two later. I’ll be in the bleachers at your practice. Try not to eat shit!” Anni waves as she leaves, grinning at the two boys, who roll their eyes at her and leave for their class.

..

The lacrosse team has gathered on the lacrosse field, where the players are warming up by passing the ball back and forth as other students congregate in the bleachers to watch the team play. Anni climbs up to the middle of the bleachers, sitting in front of Lydia and a brown-haired girl. She places her bag down to take out her notebook and begins doing some homework. Lydia and the unknown girl chat quietly behind her.

Anni looks up briefly to survey the practice in front of her and notices Scott as the goalie. A smirk crosses her face and she shuts her notebook. Scott’s never played goalie. This will be fun to watch, she thought. She takes her phone out of her pocket and gets ready to record some grade-A blackmail material.

Anni looks to the line of players to see who’s up first. Noticing that it’s Jackson, Anni groans and shuts off her phone, too annoyed by him to even record. Behind her, she hears Lydia and the girl talk about Scott.

“Who is that?” the brown-haired girl asks, looking at her friend.

“Him? I’m not sure who he is. Why?” Lydia responds, twirling her hair around her finger disinterested.

Anni turns around to face the two and looks up at the girl with the brown hair. “He’s Scott,” she says, “He’s my brother. Scott McCall.”

The girl blushes at being heard, while Lydia is seemingly distracted with her nails. “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t talking bad about him, or anything,” the girl says, “I’m just new here. Trying to make some friends. He’s in my English class.”

Anni nods and smiles at the girl, “Cool. I’m Anni. Or, technically Anathema, but nobody calls me that.” She grins and reaches her hand up for the girl to shake.

The girl smiles back and shakes her hand, introducing herself, “I’m Allison. Everyone just calls me…Allison,” she says with a small smirk. Anni laughs and Allison grins. Anni moves up next to her and nudges her shoulder.

“I think they’re starting,” Anni says, jutting her chin in the direction of the field. Both girls turn to face the practice, watching the players with keen eyes. The assistant coach blows the whistle, and Jackson scoops up the ball with his crosse, preparing to throw it at the goal (or more like right into Scott.) Anni looks over at the goalie’s net and sees Scott having some sort of fit and covering his ears. She narrows her eyes in confusion making a move to stand up, but Jackson throws the first ball, hitting Scott right on his helmet. He falls back from the impact.

“Oooh…” Allison and Anni grimace, looking down at Scott in concern.

“Hey, way to catch with your face, McCall!” Jackson calls out, smirking as he walks to the back of the line. Anni rolls her eyes and flips Jackson off when he makes eye contact with her. Lydia huffs at this, fixing Anni with a glare that the girl willfully ignores. Anni reverts her vision to the main field as Scott stands up with a determined look on his face.

The next player tosses the ball towards him, and Scott catches it easily, to the point where he’s visibly stunned that he was able to do so. This sentiment is shared by the rest of his teammates, including Stiles, and his sister. Stiles lets out a little “Yeah!” and Anni whoops and claps. The second, third, fourth, and fifth shots are caught by Scott just as easily. Coach stares down at Scott with his mouth hanging wide open, unable to believe his eyes. Anni grins, clapping for her brother once more. Allison sends a small smile to Scott with a nod of her head, and even Lydia seems impressed by his skill.

“He seems like he’s pretty good,” Allison said, watching Scott intently.

“Yeah, very good,” Lydia responded truthfully, dropping her mean-girl act for a moment.

Anni grins at the two girl’s discussion, looking away from them and making eye contact with Scott. She mouths ‘nice one’, making him blush slightly, looking over at the two girls fawning over him. Scott is practically giddy as he bounces on the balls of his feet and smiles, which only makes Jackson more angry. Intent to take Scott down a peg so that he's back in the spotlight, he slams the top of his stick against the player who was set to practice his goals and ditches him in line. Scott tenses when he sees this and prepares for the worst.

“Oh, God…” Scott murmurs, tightening his hold on his stick nervously.

Jackson runs as fast as he can toward the goal and tosses the ball with all the force he can muster, but to Scott, the ball seems to be moving in slow motion, allowing him to catch it without hesitation. Anni, Stiles, and Lydia all jump up cheering for Scott.

“YEAHHHH!!” exclaimed Anni, clapping her hands and jumping up and down.

“WOOOO!” Lydia screamed, sparing a smug glance at Jackson, before continuing to cheer on Scott.

“THAT’S MY FRIEND!!!” Stiles screams, hopping around and waving his hands around.

Allison watches Scott with interest as he throws a back-shot at the assistant coach, who just barely catches it with his stick.

..

After practice, Stiles, Scott, and Anni return to the woods to attempt to find the top half of the body Scott had found the night before as well as the inhaler he dropped in the process. The trio are talking about the day’s practice as their feet get wet in the mud.

“I-I don't know what it was. It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And that's not the only weird thing. I-I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things,” Scott said, ducking under a low-hanging branch, his tone concerned.

“Smell things? Like what?” Anni questioned, hopping over a deep puddle.

“Like the watermelon gum you have in your pocket.”

Anni makes a face as though she thinks Scott is crazy as she pats her back pockets. “I don’t even have any watermelon-” Anni cuts herself off as she pulls out a single piece of folded-up watermelon gum, just as Scott sensed. Scott raises both of his arms in an “I-Told-You-So” gesture.

Anni examines the piece of gum for a moment, before offering it to Stiles. He makes a face, “Ugh. How long has that been in your pocket?” Anni shrugs, waving it around again as a final offer. Stiles analyzes it for another second before shrugging his shoulders and sighing, accepting the piece. He unwraps it, shoving the piece in his mouth, and begins to obnoxiously chew.

“So all this started with the bite?” Stiles asked, making smacking noises with his mouth as he chewed the gum. Scott winced at the noises, almost like they were deafening to him. This seemed to go unnoticed by Stiles, but Anni cocked her head in confusion at his actions.

“What if it’s like an infection? Like, my body’s flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?” Scott questioned nervously, running a hand through his hair.

“Pretty sure it doesn’t last a whole day, Scott,” Anni said dryly, looking at the forest floor closely in an attempt to find the missing inhaler.

Stiles gets a small smirk on his face before trying to make himself look as serious as possible, which Scott, who is walking in front of him, doesn't catch. “You know what? I actually think I’ve heard of this-it’s a specific type of infection.” Scott whips around, his eyes widening with concern. Anni rolled her eyes, knowing Stiles wasn’t being serious and sick of his antics.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.”

Scott, still not realizing that Stiles is messing with him, starts to panic. “What’s that? Is that bad?”

Stiles nods seriously, “Oh, yeah, it’s the worst. But only once a month.” Anni snorts at this, sneaking a glance at Stiles who sends a playful wink in her direction. Scott, too deep in his paranoia, doesn’t catch this.

“Once a month?” Scott asks, running through all the possible diseases his mother taught him about in his head.

“Mm-hmm. On the night of the full moon. Aroooo!” Stiles howls, as Anni bursts into laughter at the sight of Scott’s red and furious face. Scott shoves them both away, causing the two to laugh harder at his embarrassment.

“Hey, you’re the one who heard a wolf howling!” Anni called after him, as she and Stiles struggled to keep up with his pace.

Scott whipped around and leaned down to get into his little sister’s face, “Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me!”

From above Anni’s head, Stiles says, “I know! You’re a Werewolf! Rawrrrr!!” Scott is not impressed by this joke, and Stiles’ demeanor becomes serious. “Okay, obviously I’m kidding. But, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it’s ‘cause Friday’s a full moon.”

Scott suddenly stops in his place, causing Anni to slam into him from behind. He doesn’t budge, and Anni reaches up to grip her nose, frowning in pain.

“No, I-I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler…” Scott looked around, peering behind trees and into the surrounding bushes.

“Maybe the killer moved the body?” Anni suggested, watching Scott scour around.

“If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are, like, eighty bucks.”

The trio is still looking around when suddenly, a man in his early twenties with pale skin, black hair, a black leather jacket, and a scowl appears in front of them.

“What are you doing here?” the man asks the trio gruffly, causing all three of them to jump back in surprise. The three of them visibly panicked, struggling to put together a response. Scott and Stiles subtly move in front of Anni, getting in between her and the strange man.

“Huh? This is private property,” the man growls, stepping forward, causing the trio to all take a step back.

“Uh, sorry, man, we didn’t know,” Stiles said as Anni and Scott nodded in agreement.

The man’s attention is focused on Scott, who picks up where Stiles left off to try and relieve the tension, “Yeah, we were just looking for something, but…” Scott was about to continue when the man glared at him, after which point Scott lost his nerve and dropped the subject, “Uh, forget it.”

Suddenly, the man tosses Scott's inhaler at him before turning and heading back the way he came without a word, giving Scott one last look and seemingly paying Stiles no attention whatsoever. Scott sighs and gets ready to turn back in the opposite direction. Anni hesitates a moment watching as the man walks off. He pauses and looks over his shoulder at Anni. The two make eye contact, and Anni’s brows furrow in confusion at the familiarity of his eyes. Before she can think much more about it, the man turns around and stalks off. Anni returns her attention to her brother and Stiles.

“Um…All right, come on. I gotta get to work,” Scott says, leading the trio back the way they came.

Stiles yanks Anni by the arm as he catches up to Scott, bouncing in excitement, “Dude, that was Derek Hale!” Scott looks at Stiles blankly, and Stiles’ expression becomes incredulous. “You remember, right? He’s only like a few years older than us.”

Scott frowns, “Remember what?”

“His family. They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago,” Anni stated, rubbing her arm where Stiles had grabbed her. Scott looked both intrigued and concerned by this news.

“I wonder what he’s doing back…” he mused.

“Come on,” Stiles scoffed, grabbing his friends and walking them back to his Jeep. Scott, still looking toward where Derek headed out, slowly followed him.

..

Later that night, Anni was up late finishing up her homework at her desk. Her chin rested in the palm of her left hand, her right hand fiddling with the pencil she held between her fingers. She yawned, turning on her phone to check the time. Her clock read 10:43 PM. It’s late, she thought, I should head to bed. Don’t wanna have my weird sleep-deprivation visions again. Anni closed her textbook and grabbed her phone charger from her desk. She plugged her phone into the outlet by her nightstand, then stood up to go change and brush her teeth in the bathroom.

As she walked back into her room, she flicked off the light switch and crawled into bed, closing her eyes. Please, please, please let me go to sleep in peace. As she slowly drifted from the land of the awake, a bright light invaded her vision. Shit, no, no, NO, NO! Her eyes flew open, irises glowing an emerald green. Images flashed in her mind…a car with bright headlights…a high-pitched scream…banging on a glass door…a whimpering dog…a large wolf…and then, the visions faded. Her eyes returned to their normal color, as she caught her breath. What the fuck. What the actual fuck.

This is insane. This is the second time now, this can’t be a coincidence. Aaaarrrgh! Anni rubbed her eyes furiously and flopped back onto her bed. She stared at the cracks in her ceiling, debating what to do. I could call Mom…she’s a nurse, maybe she could help me? Or maybe she’d just send me to a shrink and they’d lock me up in the looney bin…Ugh. Anni thought of her other options: I could tell Scott? Or maybe even Stiles? I mean, Scott already thinks he’s a werewolf so…this can’t be too weird, right?

Anni sighed, closing her eyes and rolling onto her side. She attempts to think of more ideas, but she slowly begins to fall into a deep slumber…

[pillarsalt]

hi there!!! love your art first of all!! :)

i came across a rb of your cotton cieling/peaking comic (which i also love!) and saw in the notes how tims have scrubbed the tag since then. it made me curious how widespread the knowledge of their rape rhetoric actually is (since we know how happy they are to spew it when they know only lesbians are reading/listening, but we also know how hard they try to pretend to everyone else that they're tooootally not homophobic and toooootally don't have an incel meltdown at the mere thought of a lesbian saying "no" to them)

so i decided to see if wikipedia had an article on the ""cotton cieling"" (god i could go off on one about how these misogynists think "women are not given equal positions/mobility in the workforce" and "men get told 'no' by women they want to have sex with realllllly badly :-(" are at ALL comparable but this ask is long enough already) and guess what!? they DO but it has been NUKED to all hell.

right now? it's got zero citations/links, zero name drops of any Brave And Stunning men who promote it and write theory about it let alone naming the POS who coined it, barely even says what the definition even is... it's THE shortest article i've ever seen on there.

but look at the history tab!!! it used to be a fleshed out piece that was out and proud about claiming "lesbians not wanting to sleep with men is both oppressive and misogynistic" until at some point they realized saying the quiet part out loud where "normies" might see it was not a good idea and quietly scrubbed the article. (but they still keep it up!! as opposed to that female mod who made literal thousands of helpful factual edits, maintaining their site for free: she got banned the moment they found out she wasn't a handmaiden and all her work is theirs now i guess). and all the while, in the background, they've kept on coercing and pressuring lesbians to sleep with them nonstop with zero guilt or shame.

please for the love of god explain to me how they've convinced anyone who pays attention they're ""the most oppressed minority group who ever lived""???

holy shit anon you're right, that edits tab is crazyyy. They have definitely done a 180° on this subject, at least out loud where the average person can read it. The discussion page is another good read, LauraRichards1981 if you ever read this, you are a star and I love you.

Talking to other feminists and others who used to support genderism but "peaked", I would say at least half of them brought up the phenomenon of trans-identified men insisting lesbians have sex with them or be labeled bigots as at least one factor in their new outlook. It's so blatantly homophobic and I think a lot of influential figures in trans activism have realized how bad it looks for them, and have actively tried to memory hole it. I have even seen some claiming that "terfs" invented the term, which is hilarious because, as portrayed in my comic, I saw it with my own eyes being touted absolutely everywhere online as a way to vilify lesbians who wouldn't go along with every desire of the male trans individuals who had parasitized their communities. The DARVO is real.

[kevotsuka]

rafannadal matchvedev here PLEASE your tags on that jerez video... i definitely think marcs feelings towards pecco and luca are Different compared to marco? pecco esp with his racing in emilios moto3 team and teammates with alex and everything, and luca bc hes... known him for a while, hasnt he...... vales baby brother......... UGH GOD anyway hes known them both for soooo long and much more closely than bezz, right, so i def think where bezz counts as full-fledged academy member One Of Vales Boys, he kinda Missed important... developments... and im sure hes been Filled In but also. hm. pecco and luca def def def... special.......... i always remember that interview marc did where he was asked what his relationship with pecco, bezz and luca is like and he said great with pecco and luca and didnt even mention marco 😭 literally forgets about him all the time, it feels like, and then bezz didnt really make the greatest effort to be Friendly, has he... apart from liking one million of marcs insta posts up until the divorce happened 😭😭😭 and now what, for a decade bezz has been icy but marc is supposed to care about him? never. he has REASON to care for pecco and luca and even franky, but bez?

@rafannadal matchvedev ,one or dearest tumblrlinas of this site ... You're so right and all your words are soo real

i have so many feelings for cev pecco and marc and they interactions, Pequito looking at Marc with stars in his eyes, to shy to ask for anything but still around him in the box in case of Marc decided talk to him. Marc who see Pecco and 'ow, he's good, he would become better in the future', his future teammate now

and Luca, little honda fan Luca who watches how they take marc since the begging of his career and maybe think 'i can dream with that? i hope one day...' like Vale doesn't ruin every bridge to honda for him (this is related and parallel to the Alex M/Yamaha saga to). Luca who never really ended up in the middle of the divorce, unlike Alex who had to physically push people away to protect his brother Luca always saying nice things about Marc (the Ducati thing? Like he said it just because is a little shit who loves drama, but was a choice and he take it) and Marc chose don't be like Valentino or his people have a part of my heart

And then we have Bez . 'who?' in Marc's books. Bezz who was growing up, he take a side and wants to die for it in the way teens would die for they beliefs and never think about it after that. Bezz who watches Marc win unfairly, because he ruined Vale career, so everything good happen to him would happen to Vale instead.

Bez who wasn't worry about Marc's lession and probably think 'he deserves that' with a bit of more malice than he knows he have inside of him. The honda slowly trying to kill Marc's makes him forgot how good he really is

Bez now is a adult but he never questioned the divorce before, about the evil, the horror bedtime story that Uccio tells to warn them about Marquez. But now he knows Marc, at least one part of him, that one who doesn't feed the press telling what happen that day. He could ruins Marco, but chose don't and that maybe change something, or maybe was when Marco watches him with a good bike again at the point he's LEARNING from him-

and then we have Marc who barely know this fucking guy who yelled at him at one of the most emotional days of his career, the pain of his arm with the last day with his FAMILY in a race who was ruined for someone else and he can't really be angry for that, but Bez?

'no voy a perder tiempo con ese personaje' and he is committed whit it. He don't think about that guy, he barely respond his words and act like bez doesn't exist when he can. For someone like Bez who lives for being recognized

And is all Bez fault, i think is beautiful <3

[mapicccc]

Hiii I apologize if this comes off weirdly… I don't often use Tumblr and barely know how the site works, but I've found myself opening it every few weeks to see if there's anything new on your devotion posting tag. You get them so perfectly in a way nobody else does, especially Mapicc. I think you are a very cool person… I drew some little guys for you too. I hope you don't mind. ( ᵔ _ ᵔ)

AWWWW YOURE SO SWEET <3<3<3 I'm really glad to hear you enjoy my thoughts on them,, and sorry I haven't posted anything in a while, with zam being gone and college getting me its harder but do know they are still up to things in my brain.. just the other day I got really stuck on the idea of lifesteal having ended, them not talking for years and finding each other again. combining the knew with old, the unknown with the forgotten, such specific feelings I'd love to go further when I have the chance.

AND OHHH MY GOD HIIIII MAPUIX HI MAPEY HI QUIXY THANK YOU SO MUCH WAAAAA <33333÷

[mulderscully]

honestly, staying away from tumblr is hard! i still check in every day, but in using it less even for 2 days i'm #realizing that i don't think it's just the anons stressing me out even if it certainly doesn't help. i think i have using this site in a way that isn't healthy or productive to my mental health.

i have been trying to use it how i used it when i only worked part time or when i was in college and that isn't feasible anymore. i simply cannot spend hours giffing daily and watch tv and write and read AND spend time with friends, between two jobs. i have to accept that giffing is becoming a passing thing in my life that i do when it strikes my fancy. not something i do all the time.

i realize i put a lot of pressure on myself to #create so i can #engage like it's some sort of currency and i think that's bad for me. i also put pressure on myself to reblog things people tag me in even if i don't really want to because i don't feel strongly enough to reblog it. like. i don't really like eddi/e diaz, and people tag me in eddie when i barely blog abt him and i then don't wanna be rude and ignore gifsets, or be rude and be like "hey, i don't like this extremely popular character." so i just scroll on or reblog it but i still feel guilty and that isn't healthy? like baby it's just a tv show! idek.

and then i feel guilty for not "evenly" creating for my multiple fandoms! i have been in this rwrb hyperfixation since august and it still isn't going anywhere, so ofc it's what i want to gif a reblog most and then i feel like guilty because i haven't giffed doctor who, or the x files, or buffy or whatever "enough" since i got rwrb brainrot and it's like god, it should not matter this much!

i don't know how my brain became this way but i really feel like i need to change something about how i blog, even if it's just pausing doing anything else and just being honest with y'all.

[yourelocaltransdude]

ABOUT ME

Im not taking donations, I hope your okay but listen I'm barely even old enough to be onto his site (im still allowed on here because im 13+) and I know far to much then I probably should, I'm staying out of world shit and focusing on my silly little blorbo's and living my childhood

if you are a sex blog, don't try anybullshit, and no I don't actually do meth

Quotes I made: editing is fine, AI is grime" "you do black out poetry, I do meth"

Age: what are you? A cop?

Fav food: Ramen

Fav color: deep burgundy

Fav animal: Margays

Fav topic: my best friend

Height: more then 5'7

Sexuality: BISEXUAL

Pronouns: he/they

Name is Caedes (cay-des) , it's Latin for murder :)

I have a girlfriend:] and she rocks

I like good omens, toh, httyd, tadc and a bunch more.

Things i actually watched fully, tadc and toh. Also @/goingtohellwithyou is my old blog.

If you hate innocent people/creatures/animals/organisms fuck you and fuck off.

FREE PALESTINE, SUDAN, AND CONGO 🇸🇩🇵🇸

Art tag: My art it gets weird

new posts tag: I must yell

New ask tag: i have replied

writing tag: I write for once

For me: saving this for later

Old My posts tag: Hunter rambles

Old Ask tag: hunter asks

I will and can block you.