#he described it as a tooth cracking sound

[erwinsvow]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

summary: how you and rafe got started <3

author's note: if i could stop losing my brain cells over rafe cameron for a minute that would be great but i can't so here it is <3 this is mostly cute but in the shea cinematic universe this establishes the beginning of what can only be a hopelessly codependent relationship <3 more parts to come! also none of this would be written without the surge of inspo i get from reading every single one of @princessbrunette's posts but in particular this one, this one, and this<3 one!

now spinning: one of the girls by the weeknd & jennie

Rafe’s always thought you were cute. 

Cute, he’d think to himself in passing, on a hot summer day when he was getting ready to take beers from the fridge and go find the boys at the country club. He didn’t need to steal anything, the waitress at the club always gave him whatever drink he asked for, but he just felt like taking them from the house today. 

You were dawdling around the house with a bored Sarah, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Sarah was texting on her phone, likely engaging in a virtual fight with Topper. He’d feel bad, but the two of them did it to themselves. You were at the counter with Wheezie, leaning on your elbows while the two of you discussed something. He didn’t really care, until he met your eyes for a second. 

Cute. The way you met his eyes and then looked away, face heating up. You were in a bikini and a coverup, probably waiting for his sister before spending the day on the beach or at the pool. The cover up was white and see through, covering everything to the point where no one could see anything but the faint yellow of your bikini underneath.

Leaning on the counter, when you looked away, he got a glimpse into the top of your dress. He could make out little yellow flowers on the material of your bikini and the outline of your tits squeezed against each other. 

He grabbed a beer and opened it with his back tooth, spitting the cap out on the counter next to Wheezie’s book.

“Ew, Rafe, get your spit molecules away from my book.”

“Who reads in the summer anyways? You should be glad for my spit if it makes you stop.”

“It’s my summer reading, Rafe, not everyone can just skip their assignments and get away with it.”

“Please, what have I skipped?”

You and Wheezie turn to look at each other and start laughing. He cracks a smile too, unexpectedly.

“Actually, it’s a great book. You’re missing out, Rafe,” you say, with a smile gracing your face, and he realizes he’s never actually heard the sound of your voice. You’ve maybe said hi to him twice, and both times Sarah had dragged you away within seconds. You even sound cute. His name on your tongue sounds even cuter.

“Really? Maybe I need to give it a try.” You laugh again, meeting his eyes this time. 

“You can’t have my copy, I already put my annotations in this one-“

“Stop yapping, Wheeze. I’m not gonna take yours.”

“Actually you have a copy in the library upstairs. I borrowed it last summer.”

“Really, kid? Wanna come find it with me?”

Your face heats up so much you turn away. He smiles then, and he smiles again when you follow him up to the library.

“This one is fantastic too, it’s about this young girl in England-” your voice continues to describe the plot of the book in your hand. You shelve it and then your eyes immediately land on another, another classic, another favorite. You ramble off the description but Rafe’s hardly paying attention.

He’s trying to recall when you had become so cute, so pretty. He thinks he’s never noticed you after you walk away with Sarah, or when he walks away from you two lounging on pool chairs, your nose in a book like always.

This is different. When had you become so irresistible?

Your pretty hair falls down your back. It sticks to your neck when the two of you are outside in the sun, in the heat. He has an urge to lick the sweat off just to see how you’d blush and feel how you’d squirm. Your eyes are warm and bright, but you’re still too shy to meet his blue ones, even when it’s just the two of you.

And it has been. Just the two of you, recently, almost all of the time. Sarah’s always off with her stupid friends and Wheeze is at home doing her summer work. 

The two of you travel to every ice cream parlor in the eight in the next few weeks. Conversation comes easily, even though you have nothing in common. He hasn’t picked up a bag from his dealer since he started talking to you, he realizes. Hasn’t felt the need to get high.

You’ve never even smoked weed, much less snorted coke. You’ll drink at a party with Sarah, but not too much, and you always end up being the sober friend holding back the vomiting girl’s hair. At the bonfire that he invites you to, your eyes keep darting around, seeing if anyone needs your help. 

Rafe moves so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view.

“Hey, kid,” he says quietly, leaning in. You’re boxed in, with Rafe and only Rafe on your mind. The clean, attractive scent of his cologne. The way it lingers on his clothes, like the button up you’re wearing over your pink dress.

He picks up the red cup in your hand and places it on the log beside you, balancing his beer next to it. His hands are cold from the bottle but you don’t mind much. He takes your wrists first, holding them in place, and then slides down so your hands are touching. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You were looking down at the hands, where the two of you were connected, but his voice makes you look up. He’s looking at you, and you want to hide your face. Your fingers twitch beneath Rafe’s grip. He holds on even tighter. “Don’t look away, princess. We gotta work on that, huh?”

You feel your face heating up at the nickname. You wish you were home so you could scream into your pillow.

“Sorry, sorry,” you scramble, trying to look up but you can’t find the strength or the will.

You’re embarrassed. Of course you are—this is Rafe, and you’re just you. Rafe is the one you’ve had a crush on since you knew what crushes were, and you are still the awkward little thing you were the first time you met him. 

His gaze burning holes through you makes you want to run and hide. Because this is Rafe, and right now you’re one of his girls. The ones Sarah’s complained about the whole time she’s known you—they get too attached, act all clingy, and then are replaced before long. 

You hear Rafe’s quiet laughter. You’re still boxed in, feeling hot and clammy even though he’d given you his button up not thirty minutes ago because you felt cold. 

“What’re you saying sorry for?” You look up quickly, and then look back down. Then Rafe’s hands leave yours, and he holds up your chin until you’re looking right into his eyes. “Hmm?”

You feel like puking. 

“I-I just, well I just-”

“You just what?”

“I don’t think I can be, um, be one of your flingy, uh fling-type girls. So, you know, maybe all of this isn’t a good idea.”

“Fling-type girls?” he questions. He’s holding back a laugh, which makes you irrationally upset. You shove hard against his chest to free yourself from the cage of his arms. 

“Yes, your fling-type girls. You have a new girl on your arm every week, and everyone knows it, and I refuse to be one of them, because it’s just embarrassing and dehumanizing,” he watches you ramble on. He smiles, but you don’t notice. “And frankly, I deserve better than that.”

“Are you done?” You glare back at him.

“Yes, and not because you said that. I was done anyway.”

“Good.” Your face drops for a second, thinking you overstepped and totally overreached regarding his intentions, but then Rafe surprises you—he leans in and kisses you. 

You weren’t expecting a playground peck, but the way he’s kissing you completely surpasses any and all expectations (and fantasies) you’d dreamt up. His grip on your hips is hard, and his tongue is almost down your throat. It’s messy, and wet, and when he pulls away, there’s strings of spit connecting you to each other. 

You should wipe your mouth before anyone sees, but you don’t. Your heart is racing, and you can barely speak, much less move. 

“If I wanted you to be one of my girls, I wouldn’t have spent the last three weeks listening to you blab about books and buying you ice cream. You’re gonna be my only girl, and that’s that, okay?”

You nod dumbly—words and motions still not quite back yet. You feel flushed. People’s eyes are on you both.

“Now, do you wanna head out and go get a cone?” You nod again. “Good girl. And watch your mouth.”

[taintedcigs]

— morning routine (modern!s.h. x reader)

pairing: modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: basically, that scene in greys anatomy where meredith snores and keeps waking up derek but instead of them it's reader who just moved in with steve. (and robin duh) idk how to explain it but i tried to give it a spin idk if i succeeded. this is just FLUFFY AND cheesy. and tbh its only modern!steve cuz i added one (1) stupid twilight joke. SUE ME OK!!!!

warnings: just pure fluff. domestic!steve. tooth-rottingly sweet. cheesy af. some kissing. does snoring count idk. steve is an adorable idiot. also makes a dirty joke bc he is immature (and so am i.) kissing. idk. allude to smut but nothing described at all. not proof-read ignore all mistakes cuz i wrote this mess in like 20 mins and cant read it back cuz i cant do it without criticizng everything so im just gonna post okkkkiii bye hope u guys enjoy it (wc: 1.3k+)

⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ

It hadn't been that long since you’d settled into Steve and Robin’s place. You’d initially been nervous about it, about whether everything would work out or not.

But soon enough, things were already starting to fall into place—especially in the mornings.

A perfect routine.

The illuminating rays of sunshine would seep through the cracks in the blinds, glowing the cozy room you and Steve now called yours. And the overwhelming aroma of the coffee Robin always brewed too early, signaling to you that it was time to wake up.

You stirred slightly, mind slowly drifting out of the haze of sleep until you noticed something—rather someone in your periphery.

Eyes fluttering open, you squinted against the soft light, and you were instantly met with Steve’s warm gaze at you, his head propped on one hand as he lay beside you.

“Steve! What the hell?” you exclaimed, groggily shoving his shoulder with a laugh. “Are you watching me sleep, you creep?”

Steve’s lips curled into a lazy, boyish grin, one that you couldn’t resist smiling back at. “Mmhmm,” he murmured, not even bothering to deny it.

“What are you? Edward Cullen?” you teased.

That earns a good chuckle out of him, eyes crinkling at the corners before he mumbles out a “Mornin', honey.”

He leans down to press a soft kiss to your velvety lips before pulling back to gawk at you again, cheeks dimpling adorably.

A giggle bubbles up from your chest as you swat at him, though your heart squeezes.

The most dreamy.

“How did you wake up before the alarm?” you ask, voice still thick with sleep.

Steve shrugs, grin never faltering. “I’m a light sleeper.”

“Something woke you up?”

When he doesn't answer, “What?” you press, brows furrowing.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “’S no big deal,” he assures, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s just that...” He pauses, biting his lip to hold back a grin.

“You just... snore.... a little bit.” He squints, pinching his thumb and forefinger together.

You shot upright in bed. “What? I do not!” you protest.

“Yes, you do,” Steve says, grin widening as he clearly enjoys your reaction.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!” he counters back.

“Honestly, it’s adorable that such a tiny person can make such a big sound.”

You gasp, “Jerk!” Swatting at him when he leans in for a kiss. He laughs, dodging your swipe, smile as infuriating as it was endearing.

“You know what’s not adorable?” you shot back. “Those little twitches you do every night!”

Steve blinks, protesting quickly. “I don't do that!”

“Yes you do!” you exclaimed, poking a finger into his chest playfully. “You’re like a human earthquake. It’s scary, Harrington!”

He lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. And before you can say another word, Steve pounces, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his hold. Fingers tickling your sides mercilessly, sending you into fits of laughter as you squirm to escape.

“Stop it! Steve!” you manage to get out between giggles, your attempts to push him away weak from how hard you were laughing.

⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ

Determined to make it up to him, you wore one of those nasal strips every night, for the following week. Convinced it was solving the problem.

Until you wake up, suddenly, and way before your alarm.

And even way before Robin's coffee. To find Steve's spot empty next to you.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slip out of bed, padding down the hall, curiosity tugging at you.

And of course, there he is, sprawled across the couch. Legs awkwardly dangling over the edge, one arm thrown over his eyes.

Idiot. You could feel a gentle warmth spreading all over your body.

This absolutely selfless, adorable idiot.

“You have got to be kidding me,” your exclaiming voice startles him awake, making him groan groggily.

“You slept on the couch?” You ask, guilt bubbling in your chest. 

Steve hums sleepily, clearly not awake enough to form a coherent response.

“All night?” That poor boy. 

He murmurs something incomprehensible, eyes squeezing shut like he could will himself back to sleep.

“Are those stupid strips not working?” You asked frustratedly, and Steve was quick to shook his head, the motion muffled by his pillow. 

You let out a sigh, narrowing your gaze at him, “If my snoring was always this bad, what the hell were you doing all those other nights?”

Before Steve can answer, Robin emerges from her room, hair a tangled mess and expression groggy. “He usually sleeps on the couch,” she hums, slowly slipping past you to the bathroom. “Sets an alarm and sneaks back into bed before you wake up.”

You blink, processing her words as your head slowly turns toward Steve. He’s sitting up now, looking thoroughly sheepish.

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he says softly, tone so endearing that it tugs violently at your heartstrings.

And that’s the thing about Steve, isn’t it? 

Always putting you first. Always thinking of you. 

You stare at him for a moment, dramatic theatrics melt into something warmer. A smile tugs at your lips, growing wider until you can’t contain it anymore. Walking over to the couch, you kneel beside him as he looks up at you innocently.

Without a word, you throw your arms around him as you begin to smother his face with kisses, one after another, until he was laughing too.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter between kisses, voice filled with affection. “Sweet, but so goddamn ridiculous.”

Steve grins, hands sliding down to hold your waist comfortably. “You know I’d do anythin' for my girl,” he replies, tone thick with sleep and laced with that infamous Harrington charm that makes your heart flutter.

“But, I swear, Harrington,” you warn, pulling back just enough to meet his warm gaze, “if you ever sleep on this couch again, I’m tying you to the bed.”

His brows shot up, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to try that one!” he teases.

You scoff playfully before adding, “And I’m getting you earplugs!”

Before you can say anything else, Steve suddenly tugs you closer, pulling you onto the couch with him. “C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and tender. Plush lips pressing kisses all over your face—forehead, cheeks, lips, the tip of your nose—as he rambles sweet nothings in between, each one making your heart swell a little more.

“I love you,” he whispers, words melting into your skin like a promise. 

You can’t help but giggle softly, threading your fingers through his messy hair, “Love you more, you idiot.” 

Steve grins, fingers brushing off a stray strand of hair away from your face. “So…” He trails off, tone turning sly, brows arching in anticipation, “...about that tying up thing?”

You smirk, rolling off of him as you rise to your feet. He doesn’t let his gaze leave yours, chest rising with a sharp breath as he watches your figure. 

Without a word, you saunter out of the living room, hips swaying just enough to leave him frozen in place, staring after you like a statue.

At the doorway, you glance over your shoulder to meet his dumbfounded expression. “Well,” you hum with a sly grin, “are you coming or not?”

His jaw practically drops. “C’mon, pretty boy,” you tease, tone dropping into a sultry hum that makes his eyes darken. “You’ve been really, really bad, and the punishment isn’t gonna be pretty.”

His breath catches, utterly frozen. Then, as if the exhaustion he’d been feeling moments ago has been completely erased, he springs from the couch with a groan. “God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that, right?” he mutters, all with awe and hunger as he reaches you.

Before you can react, he sweeps you up into his arms with an eagerness that makes you squeal. “Steve!” you gasp, laughing as he rushes you toward the bedroom like a man on mission.

Finally, the perfect morning routine. 

[burdenandacrop]

Hiii! Can I just say that I genuinely love your writing, I’ve read so many Schlatt writers (and no shade to them,I love them and their work too) but yours just always gets me, also you just seem like a really cool person in general too😭

Anyways I have a submission where reader and schlatt are having a baby and their in the labor room after she has just given birth and reader is just admiring their baby with schlatt, or the opposite where he’s admiring her and their baby, like just a really ‘sun and moon’ by mage tears inspired writing, really calm and sweet and precious moments between the two. Anyways I love you and you’re hope you doing well pretty!!😋😋

all i need.

♡ navigating new life is confusing but beautiful, but it's not a challenge when such sweetness is granted in the human form of him. now you have the fruition of your love, all bundled in cotton.

♡ established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, trying out a new writing style so bear with me, fem reader.

isn't it sweet?

the words fluttered your mind, an amalgamation of poetic words to try and perfectly detail this new found feeling. if you could only piece any string of letters to describe this light souring in your chest. only a heartbeat could be appropriate for this.

her heartbeat. your fingers brushing against the knitted blanket wrapped around her tiny body, attempting to count how many beats her little heart paced a minute. her sweet eyes closed as you gazed at her even tinier face, how could something so small arrange such a huge feeling within you?

the rustling of the near plastic sheet arose as schlatt nudged himself closer to you, you could hear how deep his breaths were. knowing the both of you couldn't have imagined it would feel this way, sure the two of you haven't spoken. it doesn't take words sometimes though, rather a moment. even a moment of silence.

silence can fill so much, especially when it's something like this. you ripped your eyes off of her and turned to him, letting out a huff of air that was a bit too loud for comfort. every sound felt like a ear piercing alarm, the only sound that was tolerable was her little sleeping babbles. you just wanted to drink in the peaceful silence, fearing it would slip right out of your fingers if you blinked.

can i cry right now?

the sentence kept beckoning in the back of his head, it was the only words that felt necessary. how could he be looking at something like this and not feel the need to just, cry. obviously not out of sadness, rather of the reality that he wasn't just a simple title anymore. he brought in life. actual life, with you.

his mind kept wandering on the possibilities, would she get his smile? would she get your cleverness? could she be everything he needed to complete the sore spot in his chest that left aching? he could only pray that he would hand the same gentle love that was left tattooed on his heart from her. even if she'd only been in this world for a few hours, this was the rest of anything ever.

his eyes wandered to the warm morning sunlight beaming onto the edge of the bed, trying not to crack to himself as he realized his daughter was going to be an early bird by popular theory. much different to himself, he looked back to her sleeping state. how the blanket over her cradled body heaved up and down, almost matching the beeps from the hospital's machinery. what a beautiful way to put it, she matched everything now.

he wasn't ever the type to be outwardly sensitive, but it was awfully hard to not be in this moment. he curled his bottom lip in his teeth, the gentle sting as he desperately tried to control his emotions. he wasn't the one who just gave birth, you were. yet somehow, in life's funniest ways, he was the one who had to keep reminding himself that this was real. it was just hard to take in, something that he helped create, could be this wonderful.

don't want to blink.

you couldn't, rather you simply fought not to. the small details of her skin were too remarkable to not gaze at for hours, a small grin creeping on your lips as you realized she had the tiniest birthmark shining on her cheek. it almost matched the little patch of red schlatt would get when he blushed on the side of his temples.

that was the beauty of detail, but it showed how much you loved him. how much you love and were going to grow love for her, as well. you pondered to yourself, the gentle white noise cutting through your ears from the quiet fan. if you could bottle this, you absolutely would. though the thought that this would disappear before you knew it, absolutely ached you.

she was going to grow, learn to smile, or worse ; gain schlatt's attitude. of course, only a playful joke. you could only dream she'd look up to him, look up to you. see you two as the pair you desperately longed for, be the reality that you made your fantasy. that, you could. which made it even all more worth it, your mind reeling at all the things you were able to provide for this sweet girl.

the thought alone was enough to bring your eyes to gentle tears, hoping a whimper from the emotion wouldn't sneak out of your lips. you could've blamed it on the pain medication that was slowly making it's way into your system, but you didn't want that. it would only conclude with you sleeping, you couldn't. you had this, her, him. her and him. all you would need, forever.

i'm not so afraid of it anymore.

he thought to himself, all the talks from his own father. every man he looked up to, all of their words hitting him at once. though, it didn't seem to matter in the moment. the look alone of her was enough to convince his rather bitter mind that he could in fact be something more. he was something more. right now.

he looked back to you, watching as the tears bubbled on your waterline. what a sight to see. he knew he called you beautiful, gorgeous, or whatever compliment he fished out of his brain; but right now he really couldn't come up with a word to best describe how genuinely unreal he found you. the puffiness in your skin from all the physical pressure of childbirth, or how your hair stuck up from all the static around you.

he knew you'd practically bark at him for daring to call you attractive or any synonym of that term right now, but he definitely had the words bubbling up in his chest. just aching to be spilled from his lips that were desperate to cut through the silence, just so you knew how precious he found this moment. even if it meant tearing into the white noise around and looking you into the eyes to just say 'you did a great thing.'

instead, his lips fumbled on his own words. he leaned into your shoulder with the lightest pressure he could give to you, still fearful that you would break like literal porcelain after preforming such a physical work out. "sweet." he whispered, unsure on why he only said the one word. why he whispered it, even. his own soft tone surprised him, he was capable of being so nurturing?

it is nothing short of sweet.

his sudden words caught you off guard, steering your eyes back to him. only being met with the same look you had on your face, perfectly printed all over his. you let the tear trickle down your cheek as you smile fondly at him, unable to even get your words together to reply, but his eyes just screamed, 'i know, i know.'

he sighed out, leaning his forehead to rest gently on the top of your head. being sure to flourish his lips against your head, only way he could properly communicate it. fluttering his eyes shut, knowing the waterworks were going to make their way if he didn't. "i don't think i've loved you more." his words lingered in the air, kissing your head once more, becoming more feverish by the next peck. "than in this moment." his words choked out more.

his eyes squeezed shut as he felt the warmth rush up to his head, they were definitely coming. you tenderly smiled and looked back down to her, seeing her eyes slowly open. her curious eyes looking right up at him, her little forehead crinkling as she desperately tried to figure out, what was that voice i just heard?

"baby, look." you softly cooed, making him lift his head off of you to eye down, being met with her eyes open and darting right at him. that was the final touch for him, seeing how beautiful her eyes looked as they curiously searched his face. his grin growing by the second as he bathed in the silence between the two of them. this was love, right here. this is how love was supposed to be.

eyes like mine, heart like yours.

it was almost like she had a ray of yellow around her face, a perfect ring of promise. her eyes being living proof that life goes on, time is worth waiting, but now time, was well, time. the second her brown eyes met with his own, he realized there wouldn't ever be enough time to bask in her presence. almost a cruel joke, not being able to nurture the moments long enough, cause when you find them ; you wouldn't ever be able to bottle them.

but he had it right now, right in front of his eyes. "hi sweetheart." he cooed out, reaching out a hand to the fold of her blanket. roaming his thumb along the soft knitted fabric, how warm she must've been under all the yarn. her eyes seemed to follow his every moment as he spoke, "i think she recognizes your voice." you whispered out, but her eyes remained fixed on him.

he softly nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat, shakily smiling as he gently patted the wrapped blanket before pulling his hand away slowly. "yeah." he choked out, wiping the tear from his cheek, and attempting to fix his breath. he couldn't be such a mess, especially with you. nor her. "i don't think i can ever thank you enough." he muttered out with a stifled sigh, resting his heavy head onto you. feeling the anchor being lifted off of him.

he didn't have to be strong, this statuette of agility. he was allowed to be clay, soft and warm moldable clay for this new life to form him into this new edge. maybe make his words softer, his eyes seek out kindness more, his fingertips only fix. this was all he could've hoped for, he just didn't know that all along this was he was hoping for ; not until it popped right in front of him.

tired but happy.

you watched the moment occur between the two of them, knowing this was the start of something you wouldn't have been able to even fathom in the past. this wasn't your past though, it was something to prove it has washed away. a silent omen that you did it, you overcame. now rewarded with something so gentle.

her eyes moved to yours, almost startling you. did she feel it? could she even feel what you were? that was the ethereal part of it all, somewhere deep in the atmosphere ; everything in this room knew. even the resting wood in the walls, how the sun shine began to dance on your shoulders, seeing the branches move with the wind. the shadows casting along her dear face.

everything had it's purpose, the doors were open. it was just up to you and him to keep them open, and that answer was quite clear. the simplest yes you could ever say, this was destiny. for once in your life, you thought it ; and genuinely believed it. just by the look in her eyes, you knew. life wasn't a boulder, it wasn't something to waste away focusing on the bitter side. you had these landscapes painted in front of your eyes this whole time, it just took the look in her eyes to help you color them in.

no more grey, no more blandness. your pallet of life was now only going to be consistent of yellow, pink, shades of orange. she was your sunset, he was your cushioned bay window to watch it grow on. maybe some days it'd be purple, or dark. maybe some days you'd even miss the colors change, but you knew you'd be there to watch it none the less, like clock work. how could you imagine something much more meaningful than what was bestowed right in the crook of your arm. real meaning, and it could only age well. the only sting was how long the colors would last, but the hourglass could wait. all you had was now, and that's all the two of you would ever want or need.

author's note : i throughly appreciate your patience with me, i hope you know i lauve you. also . . . how do we feel about the writing style for this ? i hope you love it, even if it's a month late. never forgot about it !! tee-freaking-hee-hee.

[ahanarhorse]

Request: Twilight and Sky meeting Ooccoo in their part of the LU dungeon.

It can be art or writing, whatever you're up for. :)

Sorry it took a while, I started drawing then switched to writing half way through, anyway, here you go!

AO3 Link

The duo made their way through the dungeon. It wasn’t terribly challenging, puzzles and monsters, like all dungeons. Sky and Twilight worked together well, tackling normally challenging monsters and helping each other with different puzzles. There were a few tricky puzzles, ones that they were less familiar with. Legend or Hyrule would have been helpful for those, but the group quickly figured it out themselves. 

Twilight appreciated being paired with Sky. The chosen hero didn’t doubt his strength, he didn’t watch his every move to make sure he was alright like Time or Wild may have. They worked well together, quietly taking down monsters in tandem and peacefully debating the best course of action for the puzzles. 

At one point Twilight transformed to try and track the shadow’s scent, but didn’t get anything useful and transformed back. Sky didn’t even crack a joke like Warriors’ would have, thank the goddess. 

Overall they made a great pair, quickly and easily moving through whatever obstacles were in their way. They had just passed another puzzle when they found a seemingly open room. Twilight transformed to try to find anything useful and immediately perked his ears up, smelling something nearby. He started to run over to a side passage, transforming back as he went. Sky seemed startled at the sudden disappearance of his partner, but followed after him. Twilight didn’t seem worried, so he wasn’t either, he trusted the rancher not to get into any more trouble. 

When Sky appeared at the opening of the hallway, he saw Twilight crouched down, talking to someone. So that’s where he went, but who could be in the dungeon?

“Oh, it’s Link! I didn’t think you would be here,” he heard an unfamiliar voice saying. It sounded strange, like, not quite human? It sure didn’t sound like any creature Sky had found in a dungeon before.

“Yeah, it’s me. How did you end up here?” Twilight asked back. 

Sky moved forward and Twilight looked at him, giving him a big smile. “Oh, Sky! Meet my friend Ooccoo!” 

Sky smiled and moved next to Twilight, happy to meet a friend of the rancher’s, even though the circumstances were less than ideal and he had no idea how Twilight’s friend even got here in the first place. 

He moved next to Twilight, trying to see who the rancher was talking to. When he actually did see, he stumbled back and made a noise of surprise, Ooccoo just looked at him and smiled. 

“Sky, this is Ooccoo, Ooccoo, this is my friend Sky.” Twilight said, acting like this, this creature was his best friend in the entire world. 

Honestly, Sky didn’t even know what to call it, her? Ooccoo was a girl apparently. She was very small, only up to his knees at most. She had the head of a person, but the body of, a cucco? A plucked cucco more like. Her eyes were purple, like shards of amethyst. She had no hair on her human head, and her neck looked more like feathers than the rest of her body, which, to the best of his ability, Sky had to describe as looking like a furry dinosaur descendant of a cucco. 

Yeah, this was not what he imagined Twilight’s best friend from back home to look like.

Twilight completely ignored his surprise and went back to talking to Ooccoo.

“Where’s Junior?” He asked, getting news of what happened since he left. They devolved into a conversation Sky wanted no part of, he was too confused about what he had already learned. 

They were talking about, others? Oh goddess, was there another? More of these woman-bird-creature things?

"Sky, can Ooccoo come with us? She wants to help!" Twilight startled Sky out of his thoughts, grinning at him with that lopsided sharp toothed grin of his.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Wait, isn't it too dangerous?"

"Nah, she's fine."

"Uh, okay then." 

Sky leaned against the wall, this was even stranger than the kikwis, he needed to sit down, maybe take a nap. Yeah, he could use a nap right about now. 

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #40 - Annoying]

"When Jungkook acts like the annoying idiot you fell in love with."

Genre: married life!AU, Fluff

Warnings: Kookie being annoying and cute <33, a summer holiday, our queen OC suffers from holiday indigestion rip to her, she describes her poop to him in vivid detail, listen!! they’re married and in love and the intimacy they share makes me weak

Wordcount: 1.2k

a/n: i had this thought that "dookie" would be actually a really cute (and annoying<3) nickname. And i think that out of all my bois, ogc!koo is the best candidate for such a nickname. So here we are, enjoy this cute lil fluff piece 🧡

Your husband is where you left him. He is lounging on the sun bed under the shadow of the straw umbrella, wearing nothing more than black swimming shorts and a pair of dark sunglasses perched atop his nose. The only jewelry he wears is his wedding ring, his piercings and a small fake shark tooth pendant on a leather string, which you both got from the street vendor in front of the hotel. He is currently on his phone, moving his foot in a mindless rhythm.

You and he went on a vacation together. Very far away from home. So far in fact, that you had to take a plane to get there. And it was the best decision ever. The beaches are beautiful, the ocean is clean and has just the right temperature and the hotel is gorgeous. Food is amazing as well, but there was one problem with that. You haven’t been able to take a shit ever since you started this holiday and this was five days ago. You can barely fit any more food inside, your stomach has been hard from everything collecting in there and you have been suffering from a strong tummy ache for two days already, but no matter what you did, you just couldn’t get your body to work. Jungkook had less problems this way. This complete traitor already went to the toilet three times. Unlike you, who still hasn’t been able to go.

That is until today when the sudden urge to poop overcame you as you and Jungkook enjoyed piña coladas by the ocean. You abandoned Jungkook by the beach and ran to get back to your room.

Now, almost an hour later you are back. 

Jungkook turns his head to you when he feels your presence. He lowers his phone.

“And? What’s the status?” he asks.

You lie down on the sun bed next to him, letting out a long sigh.

“I did it.”

“Yaaay, let’s go”, Jungkook cheers quietly, throwing his fists in the air in tiny motions, “no more tummy aches for you.”

“Yeah, I guess but I can’t be happy yet.”

“Why? That bad?”

“It was a warzone. You have no idea what I’ve just been through. I have PTSD just thinking about it. I had the sweats and everything, even had to take off my clothes and I kept gripping the edge of the sink and even had to put my feet up higher. I stacked like three toilet rolls for that.”

“Damn.”

“And it smelled so bad. You have no idea, I stank up the entire room so bad that I had to leave the windows open when I left.”

“Oh no, that bad?”

“Yeah, that bad. I was constipated at first until it shot outta me like a torpedo and I thought it was over until I got a tummy cramp and then I started to explosive diarrhea everywhere.”

“Ooh damn okay that sounds traumatic.”

“It was traumatic. My ass hurts and I still feel dirty even though I took a shower. With two rounds of soap. But I had to do it in like my own toxic shit fumes and I think they’re burned into my nostril hairs because I can still smell it.”

Jungkook cracks up.

“Awww baby, you’re my little stinker now”, he teases, nudging your arm playfully, “my little stinkbug.”

“No, stop, don’t call me that”, you whine, “it’s already embarrassing enough.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, my stinkbug. It’s only natural to shit.”

“I told you not to call me that”, you get out under your breath, hitting his thigh gently, “what if someone hears you?”

Jungkook snickers, “and it’s okay for you to describe your traumatising shit to me in vivid detail?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I did it quietly. I know you, you’re just gonna call me stinker for the rest of the day and that’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook snickers, “I think it’s cute. My little stinker”, he says and leans over to smooch your cheek. 

“Shut up, you’re so annoying”, you mumble, nudging his chest. 

“Mhm and you married me, so you love it.”

You roll your eyes at him, letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re annoying”, you say fondly and rest back on the sun bed. 

“I’m happy for you though”, Jungkook says, caressing your tummy gently, “I was suffering with you. Holiday indigestions are the worst.”

“Yeah, I’m happy too. Traumatised but happy.”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh. You laugh, patting his hand. 

“Hey, my stinker?” Jungkook asks then.

“Urgh, shut up. What?”

“Can you lotion up my back? I wanna go for a swim, but I’m scared to burn”, Jungkook asks as he already turns his back to you.

“Yeah, of course”, you say, sitting up so you can comfortably reach his back. You own one of those sunscreens which comes in a spray bottle. You spray it directly onto Jungkook’s back, earning yourself a loud yelp of shock from him.

“This is so cold. No. Don’t do that”, he whines, trying to writhe away which only makes you spray more cream onto his back. 

“It’s what you get for calling me stinker”, you say with a shiteating grin on your lips. 

“Wah, you’re so mean”, he says, making you chuckle.

You place the bottle aside and connect your hands with his back to spread the sunscreen evenly. His body is very clearly warmed up from the summer heat, his back feels hot under your palms. You are sure that a swim in the cool water will do him good. 

“Make sure to get the tattoos”, he says.

“I am”, you promise him, “don’t worry.” 

“Thanks, stinky.”

“Do. Not.”

You pinch his sides, making him squeak and writhe away.

“Don’t call me that.”

You tickle him again, forcing him to laugh and fight you off with his hands. 

“Stinky, please.”

“Don’t call me that”, you warn as laughter escapes you and your fingers squeeze his ticklish waist even harder.

“Sorry fine sorry, I yield”, he gives up,  twisting around so he is facing you, “you win, don’t tickle me”, he laughs, pushing your hands away gently. 

You grin in triumph, “good.”

Then you reach for the face sunscreen, opening it.

“Good idea”, Jungkook says, closing his eyes in anticipation. 

You spread an even layer of sunscreen on his face and neck, making sure to get his ears as well. The remnants of the sunscreen, you spread on his shoulders.

“Do you need it reapplied on your arms as well?” you ask him.

“No, I managed to get everything else. It was just the back I struggled with.”

“Okay, then you’re good to go.”

“Thanks, sweetheart”, he says and gets up, “do you wanna join me?”

“No thank you”, you let out in a breathy laugh, shaking your head, “I still need to recover.”

“Okay. See you later, my dookie”, he says and grins.

“Jungkook”, you gasp, gawking at him with widened eyes.

Jungkook laughs and turns to jog down to the water with snickers of mischief leaving him. 

“You’re annoying!” you call after him with your eyes racing over the other people to see if somebody had heard him. It seems that nobody did. You are simply yet another couple teasing each other lovingly in a sea of strangers.

[da-rulah]

“Your too sweet for me” with SOFT Secondo. Like I’m talking so sweet I have to invest in dentures

Tooth-rottingly sweet? Gotcha. Here goes...

Secondo x gn!reader

You weren't sure what you were expecting - not a lot, if you were honest - but it certainly wasn't this.

Celebrating your first anniversary, you'd thought perhaps a nice meal or flowers would be as far as Secondo would go. But walking into his chambers at the agreed upon time that evening, you were stunned to find the largest and fluffiest looking pillow fort you'd ever seen.

His armchairs had been moved around and draped with sheets to create a soft cocoon, the sofa cushions laid out and covered in pillows and blankets to turn the floor into one large bed. The whole room was lit up in a soft glow of candlelight, and one of his records was spinning on his turntable creating an atmosphere that immediately invited you in.

"Secondo?" you called out to him, but he was nowhere in sight. Suddenly, you saw his feet backing out from the fort he'd built, followed by his legs and that wonderfully perky ass of his before he stood up and smoothed out his shirt.

"Amore, is it already 7:30? Mi scusi, I was not prepared..." he stepped towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a singular, lingering kiss to your lips.

"Not prepared? Look at this place, this is so cute..." You were in awe, taking it all in.

Secondo had taken one tiny little memory you'd told him about months ago and run with it. You'd told him about how your father had used to build you pillow forts for special days like birthdays, somewhere to hide away after the end of a long day of parties and activities. It was a safe space he'd created for you to unwind, knowing how easily you'd find yourself overstimulated by so much going on. This really was one of the sweetest things Secondo could have thought to do for you.

"Well, it is our anniversary, no? I wanted to do something nice," he told you, his lips twitching into an almost smile. Even now, he was stoic and stone faced. Only you could ever make him crack.

"You're too sweet for me," you smirked, booping his nose before you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Sweet?" he seemed offended, although of course, not seriously. "I am many things, amore, but 'sweet' is not something most would use to describe me." You giggled at that.

"No, perhaps they wouldn't. But I know you better than that. Sweetest. Papa. Ever." You punctuated each of those three words with a peck to the lips.

"I am not 'sweet'," he protested, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Take it back."

"Never."

"Take it back," he warned playfully. "Or face the wrath of my dark side."

"Ooh, that sounds exciting too..." you teased, biting your lip and standing up on your tiptoes to nuzzle your nose against his.

"Get in the fort," he demanded in a low, seductive voice, "I'll show you exactly what wrath looks like."

[alldthoughtsinmyhead]

Chapter Two

A Great Horned Owl hooted in a nearby tree and Nia cracked an eye open. Her whole body ached from the pummeling Aaron had given her all through the night into the crack of dawn. He had fucked every crevice in her body till they were both spent with nothing else to give. She looked over at him, his boyish features were relaxed in his sleep. His lashes were so long that they created shadows on his cheeks, and his full double toned lips were ever so slightly parted. Her heart tugged and she stifled a sob. She was hopelessly in love with him against all good sense. She had been warned repeatedly by everyone including Aaron himself, to protect her heart and not lose it to him. But he was such a beautiful man, both inwardly and outwardly. Everyone loved him, so how could she not? When he knew all her deepest secrets and touched her deepest parts.

The Owl hooted again and Nia rolled her eyes in anger. Her clan didn't care that she was up all night in the king's bed, she had work to do and they wouldn't give her a break for any reason. She dragged her tired bones out of the large warm soft fluffy mattress and out of the comfort of Aaron's side. She stretched and walked towards the large window the Jaguar had come in from last night. As she walked, her skin began to fold and brown and white feathers extended to cover them. She stretched her arms and brown plumes extended into wings. Her face was the last thing to morph as her eyes enlarged into twin globes, transforming her into an enchanting large Barn Owl. She flew past her brother who rolled his eyes and took flight beside her-It was going to be a long day scouting with the King's mistress.

*************************************************************

Aaron reached out to his side and it was cold. He sighed at the loss. He was hoping to keep her in his bed for at least three days--it was the least she could do to make up for lost time. He frowned and sat up, her smell lingered in the air; the smell of wild berries and rainwater. Her taste lingered on his tongue from all the times he paused fucking her to dip his whole tongue in her sweet cunt. As much as he enjoyed the feeling of her warm wetness gripping his cock, he enjoyed eating her out more. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time which suited his human sweet tooth and his cat's love of salty things. He had taken many lovers in his life, but none ever sated him like Nia did. His council had started to press about his marriage, which he had absolutely no interest in, but it had to be done and he was suddenly impatient to get it over with. She would be his queen and figurehead, but Nia would always be his woman.

A short rap sounded at the huge double mahogany doors of his chambers and after he gave permission, a ruby teen boy brought in a pitcher of water and a silver bowl. Aaron grunted, after the intense session he had with his delectable lover a pitcher of water was definitely not sufficient to clean him. He was obsessively clean and took his personal hygiene very seriously. He waved the young servant away and stood fluidly from the mattress. He yawned and stretched his long limbs. He stepped into the sunlight shining in from the window and basked in it for a minute before leaping out the window. The black Jaguar's paws landed gracefully on the bed of leaves down the stories below and it stalked off to the stream for a proper bath.

***********************************************************

Milele hurriedly took her dress off before dipping herself in the fast-flowing stream. She had been running all morning trying to burn off some excitement before her marriage feast that evening. She had never seen the King but she had heard of him. He was called The Jaguar and she assumed it was because of his felinity as her mother described it: whatever that means. She stood up from the water and the cool air blew against her nipples. She watched as they hardened and stood some inches from her areolas. Her long nipples were her favorite thing about her body. They were hypersensitive and hardened at the slightest sensation. She touched them and giggled. She pinched and rolled them and her giggles caught in her throat and came out as a squeal-ly moan. A dampness was starting to form between her legs and she caught herself. The rest of her bath was taken care of quickly and she wadded out to the bank to find her dress.

They were dangling out of a person's fingers and she angrily tried to snatch them but it evaded her hands. She tried again with the same result and she impatiently shot a furious glare at the person with such effrontery. She cranked her neck up. . . and locked eyes with the most unearthly beauty she had ever seen.

Previous Part Next Part

[vagabond-umlaut]

fairy cakes

two dumb classmates redefining mutual pining. one injured senpai people keep linking you with. zero baking experience in your being.

what could possibly go wrong?

▸ student! gojo satoru x student! gn! reader; wc: 1.6k; background nanami x haibara; lots and lots of fluff; pining; teasing; missions; injuries and recoveries; reader is in denial and acceptance (confusing, ik); (i repeat) soft tooth-rotting fluff (i promise)

▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

▸ idk what's happening to me. (another fic, so soon!?!?) (i ain't upset tho.) anyways, gif, divider and characters aren't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"are the cupcakes readyyy?"

the decision of letting these four guys spend the afternoon at your place was a blunder. terribly, horribly, greatly - a historic blunder.

you shoot geto an exasperated look. the boy simply shrugs back, lips twitching, as he takes a water bottle from the fridge and saunters back to wherever the hell he emerged from.

beside you, meanwhile, nanami continues to mutter the ingredients under his breath - the thousandth time in the past hour - making you wonder if you can survive a jump from your fourth-storeyed flat's kitchen window or not.

maybe not, you decide, cracking three eggs open and pouring them into the bowl. and even if you do, it's not worth the risk, anyways. you might've got money to burn but you would much rather not burn it all on hospital bills, thank you.

"hey, they said two eggs, not three," your classmate's solemn voice draws you from your thoughts. glancing at the boy, then at the bowl, then back at him, you feel the corners of your lip lift in a tense grin.

"that recipe you are reading's all wrong," you state, snatching the cookbook from him with one hand and snapping it shut, "my mom always baked me and my brothers cakes in our childhood. trust me, i know. i might've never baked before but it's in my blood."

you watch nanami open his mouth, then close it, then open it again - only to close it. and the metaphorical bulb lights up in your brain.

a teasing smile now carving its way onto your lips, you return to the batter, adding, "don't get stressed, kento-kun. i'm pretty sure yu-kun will looove the cupcakes. just as much as you love him."

a sputter followed by a cough sounds next to you. "hey, that- that's not true. what're you talking about?" the blond exclaims indignantly.

the whisk dropped into the batter, a loud gasp escapes you as you twist to face him. "are you implying your love for yu-kun is fake, then? oh gosh! and here i thought you were a decent person, kento-kun!" you cry out dramatically, placing a hand over your forehead.

"hey, no, that's not it," the boy refutes your claims in an instant. you watch in glee how his otherwise-stoic features grow bashful. "my feelings for haibara-kun aren't fake. they are real. quite a lot so."

"oh, is it so?" you ask in faux-curiosity, then turn to the boy, genuinely wondering, "then why don't you confess to him? yu-kun will accept it in a heartbeat, i'm sure of that."

a couple of seconds pass before the smile falls from your face, giving way to a mighty frown, as you watch the boy next to you grow silent, desolation dimming his gaze as he returns to finding the cupcake moulds.

in your sixteen years of existence, you've always viewed love as... just that. lovely. exceedingly so.

yes, you have never experienced it yourself yet, but everyone else always described it as wonderful, leaving one happy and giddy and just splendid at the end of the day.

then why does kento-kun's face grow grave at love's very mention?

"are you scared of losing him one day, kento-kun?" you ask him quietly, the words tumbling out your mouth before you registering, while you add the other ingredients - brown sugar, cocoa powder, vanilla extract - into the bowl and start whisking them again.

a long while passes - one wherein two excited yells sound from the living room, accompanied by a dramatic whine (you know whose) - after which your question receives a reply.

except, it's your inquiry thrown back at you.

"aren't you scared of losing your loved ones?" nanami asks, just as quietly as you did. in the background, yet another dramatic cry rings through the air-conditioned air.

and your mind, as if on auto-pilot, flies back to that one night a week ago you spent in the infirmary.

the night you felt the most terrified. the most penitent. the loneliest.

the mission was worded to be an easy one, a simple in-and-out kind.

gojo and you decided to visit the ruins of a shrine in nikko, kill the special-grade curse wreaking havoc there, and finally go to the patisserie nearby, he had been singing praises for, for weeks and days at end.

that was the plan, that would have been the reality too - an awesome reality to mark the start of your much-loved summer holidays - until everything went haywire, that is.

there was no one special-grade curse, there were multitudes of them. and if that wasn't enough, to couple that woe, the walls were too, too derelict and weak to bear the brunt of either of your cursed energy blows, let alone your joint attacks.

the tragedy, however, lay not in either of the facts.

the tragedy lay in gojo's and your ignorance of both of them.

before either of you could realize what's wrong, whilst you two were relaxing for a beat, having exorcised all the curses, bodies tired and bruised, the ages-old shrine came caving in on you - the roof, the walls, the everything.

and gojo, being gojo - the absolute self-sacrificing idiot you never knew he could be - chose to turn his infinity off in favour of pulling you under his tall frame, bearing the weight of the crash all upon his back.

the entire trip back to school and everything that happened after is all a blurry mess in your brain now.

save for the metallic stench of blood, the leaden weight of guilt, the sympathetic soft voices and the ice-cold hand you kept rubbing circles on and on, and pressing kisses to, throughout the night till the morning next - when a familiar pair of clear blue eyes opened, blinking blearily, and crinkled in a grin at your sight, raspy voice asking if you would mind visiting the shop a couple of days later.

your cheeks feel awfully wet as you recount those details - and you huff a watery chuckle.

"i too am scared, i guess," you admit in a hushed tone, pouring the batter into the moulds - eight, not twelve, you remind yourself, 'cause shoko went to visit family and geto's going on that date you're forcing him to go. a beat passes in utter silence before you feel a pair of arms pull you gently into a side-embrace.

"i didn't intend to make you cry, sorry," nanami says in a kind voice. you immediately open your mouth, wanting to say it's not his fault; the boy shushes you, continuing, just as gently, "why don't you take a small break, hm? only the frosting's left, right? i'll call haibara. both of us can handle it from here."

betraying your brimming eyes, you throw him an impish grin. "are you sure this wasn't some ploy to get some alone-time with your boyfie?"

"no, it wasn't," your classmate says, rolling his eyes in annoyance, though the smile on his lips tell you otherwise. accepting the napkin from him, you let him maneuver you towards the living room, an arm slung around your shoulders, when he speaks up again, "geto senpai will be leaving for his date in another couple of minutes. he's already ready."

your brows furrow a tad as you glance at him from the corner of your eyes. nanami hates stating the obvious... then why is he now?

"of course, i know that. i was the one who set him up on that date, remember?" you say, perplexed, "so?"

"so..." the blond drawls with a rare wide grin. did the sun rise in the west today or something of the sort?

"you should've realized by now, it was a ploy to get you some alone-time with your boyfie."

an indignant gasp escaping, you twist in his grasp, ready to deny his mind-boggling claims - then stop when you catch gojo grin at you, waving not unlike a maniac, from where he is slouched on the couch.

ignoring the tight feeling in your chest (must have been a heartburn from that stale pizza), you grin back at your shades-wearing senpai, waving just as wildly.

nanami's an idiot - you decide as you sit down carefully next to the white-haired boy - he's still healing, after all - and kiss his bandaged forehead. your two classmates, meanwhile, keep rambling, like the pining fools they've been of late.

ignoring them, you focus on your ruminations instead - yeah, you're certainly not in love with your gojo senpai. it's just that-

"hey, were you crying?" musings broken in half by a gentle thumb on the apple of your cheeks, you peer up at the boy, only to find him frowning, concern clear-as-day behind his goggles.

biting your lower lip to keep it from wobbling, you shake your head 'no' and snuggle into his side, relishing in the warmth he offers, the balmy discomfort of 39°C be damned.

asking you no more questions, gojo simply pulls you even closer into himself; you close your eyes to restrain your tears.

tears of joy.

tears of relief.

tears of something new, something wonderful, you can't name yet, but have a hunch, can soon.

encased in your dear (not beloved, just dear) senpai's comforting touch, your lost train of thought revisits you, waiting to be finished.

a warm smile appears on your lips.

it's just that you'll do anything in this world - without an ounce of reluctance - if it means you always get to see that goofy, careless, adorable, genuine grin on his face, you've grown to cherish so much.

▸ masterlist

[akwolfgrl]

The bet part 2

Zoro glared at the witches retreating back. He was actually considering the bet. He could beat the stupid pervert next to him. The curly brow idiot wouldn't last the rest of the day. He'd be taking the witch up on the offer of drinking till he passed out.

“Looks like I got this,” Zoro smirked at the annoying blond. “Next island, I'm drinking the bar dry,” He watched as Sanji lit his cigarette, blowing the smoke in his face.

“Well I'm getting myself a kiss on the check. What better motivation is thire?” Sanji gave him a wicked grin. “I think I'll make something that will pair very well with this wonderful bottle of sake I picked up on the last island,”

“Cheater!”

“Tough shit Marimo. Oi Usopp! How's fish sound for dinner tonight?” Sanji called out as he walked away, whistling a trail of smoke following in his wake.

Fucking dam it, this might be harder then he thought, if anyone could fish up somthing good it would be Usopp, and for as much he gripped, Sanji was a fantastic cook. He also knew that Nami had gone with him alcohol shopping on the last island.

Zoro spent the next while napping by the mast, ignoring the need to drink. Now that he can't drink, he really wanted one. The sea was calm and the wind still, the sun was at its highest point. Lunch would be soon. The chears of Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper had a cracking up an eye. From the sounds of it, they got a good haul.

“Sanji!! We got loads of goodies!” The boys all called out. “Come see! Come see!”

There were a few good-sized fish and a net full of shells and crabs. The cook should be happy, and Zoro enjoyed seafood. He could live off rice and fish, of course sake, too. Zoro watched from his spot as Sanji strolled out of the kitchen, his ridiculous pink apron on a smudge of cream on his check. Zoro licked his lips.

“Wow good job. I'm actually impressed,” Sanji placed his hands on each head one at a time. “We'll have a nice seafood feast for dinner, a nice miso black cod, some raw marinated crab, hmm what else. Lemon garlic scallops, or scallop crudo with minka and tarragon,”

“Lemon garlic!” Usopp cried. “Please it sounds so good,” Zoro watched as Sanji nodded, his stomach growling as Sanji described dinner. Luffy was already literally drooling, unlike the rest of them.

“What's for dessert?” Chopper asked. The little reindeer had a sweet tooth, Zoro would always take dessert, and after having a bite, he would slide it over for him to have.

“Mini cheesecakes, one for everyone,”

“Ooo! Can I have chocolate, please?” Chopper asked, giving Sanji big pleading eyes. Those eyes were Zoro's greatest weakness.

“I want blackberry!” Usopp threw his recest in.

“Meat!” Luffy cried.

“You guys get what I make and enjoy it!” Sanji yelled, grabbing the catch as the others pouted.

Zoro huffed and rolled his eyes, and the dam cook was so busy catering to the women on board that he neglected the rest of the crew. Zoro glared at the blonde's retreating back.

[danosrosegarden]

💨💨💨💨🍃

…….🚶

..howdy partner..I hear you’re doing requests here..

I say that’s a mighty fine thing to do, I have a request for ye..if ya think ya can handle it partner..(I know you can I’m just playing up the cowboy thing)

How’s a bout..Fem!Reader goes to see Edward Nashton in Arkham, nothing smutty no no, we want pure sugar here cowpoke..something to make the tooth ache with how sweet it is partner.

Reader reassures Edward and they can have a tender moment of your choosing..

Alright..let’s get riding off. It was good to see ya partner. See ya

🌅

🐎

when the sun hits - edward nashton x gn!reader ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{contains: sad fluff and mild mentions of violence.}

Arkham was a dark, empty night, void of stars, barren of any sliver of moon. It was as if you could feel the grime ground into the floor as you were led down the hallway. The frosty chill of the air in the asylum sunk deep into your marrow. It was impossibly bleak, hopelessly desolate. And you hated to imagine your Eddie in a place like this.

You couldn't help but feel a sheen of disapproval cast over the glaring eyes of the guards leading you to his cell. How could you still love a monster like him? To them, he was a rabid dog, fangs still dripping with the blood of the innocent, eyes still bloodshot with streaks of burning-hot frenzy. He was a killer. He was the man who giggled while he splintered bones, grinned gleefully as he cracked skulls. That's all they saw.

Fuck what they thought. You knew better.

Your stomach was in a billion impossibly twisted knots as the metal barricade groaned as it lifted.

And there he was. How to describe the scene.

The first thing you noticed were his eyes. Though bags pulled at the skin underneath them in a dull, weary violet, there was something deep in the pitch black pupils that glimmered like glitter underneath the whirring lights when he saw you.

Edward placed his hands on the glass, scoffing out a wonder-struck laugh.

"Hi, angel," a quivering voice spoke.

When Edward was The Riddler, he was no longer a cold, frightened child who kept his head down and spoke to nobody. He was strong. He was brave. You detected something in his voice that sounded like him before he put the mask on, something quiet and stamped-out and fearful. You felt the woosh of your heart in your ears, and your jaw ached and popped with anxiety.

"Hi, Eddie."

You stood facing each other, wading around aimlessly in a thick goo of silence. What to say. What even was there to say?

He spoke first.

"I'm so sorry."

You felt the stitches of your heart begin to rip apart. "Sorry for what?"

"For...for putting you through all this. For leaving you." His lip quivered. "I'm so, so sorry."

You cursed your body for the tears you felt welling up and burning in the corner of your eyes.

"I hate being without you." The words that poured from your lips felt mechanical, like you were a wind-up toy, marching without thinking. It came out rushed. Pathetic and whimper-laced. "I hate it so much, Eddie."

He shook his head rapidly, his breath fogging up the glass. "I'll find a way. We don't have to be apart."

A filmstrip of memories rolled in your mind of all the evenings he'd spent at your apartment. The tender mornings you'd wake up with your bodies entangled in one another. The laughing until tears were rolling down your cheeks. Your heart still struggled with his actions, but there was no denying how badly you ached for his presence.

It hurt to go to bed alone. The sheets felt stiff and bitterly cold, the blanket laying on top of you like the shell of the memory of his warmth.

"I don't care what I have to do. I'll write. I'll call. You can come visit," he said rapidly. "I can't be without you. I can't make it alone."

The future seemed gray and bleak from where you were standing. But maybe you could spot the sun peaking through the clouds. Maybe it might take effort, but it was as if you could feel the sparkling sunrays warming your skin as you peered into his eyes. Perhaps your apartment would feel less riddled with ghosts if you could still talk to him through letters and phone calls. Maybe his touch wouldn't feel a million miles away if you could still visit.

"I'm going to do whatever it takes," he swore with a low whisper.

You held you hand up to where his rested on the glass.

"You promise?"

[angelofthepage]

Ink Demon - Evolution shown in Reverse? (Bendy DCTL Speculation and Character Design Theory)

Today we got a surprise drop of the cover for the Dreams Come to Life Graphic Novel, and there’s one thing all of us are thinking about: why is the BATDR ink demon design on the cover? When Dreams Come to Life originally came out, this design either didn’t exist period or wasn’t public yet, and its inclusion here instead of the BATIM ink demon leaves me with a lot of questions about the timeline of this universe and how the ink demon functions. So today I’m gonna crack open DCTL and see if I can puzzle this one out. Join me, won’t you? 

First, let’s look at what the book actually says in describing the monster’s appearance. Let’s jump over to the part where Buddy digs through Sammy’s sheet music and finds his doodles. This is how Buddy describes a drawing that, we presume, is the ink demon. 

DCTL Page 162, Physical Copy

“The ink glistened like the ink on the cover, but it was similarly dry. That’s not what chilled me to the bone though. Taking up the full right-hand page was what I could only describe as a drawing of a deformed Bendy. But it had very little in common with the cute cartoon character. Its limbs were long, almost praying mantis-like, with hands that had claws on them, not cute white gloves. Worse still was his face, half obscured with-what was it? Was it blood? The drawing was in black and white; it was hard to tell what everything was. All I could see was how much longer his devil’s horns now were, how his smile was filled with sharp teeth. His eyes completely hidden behind a dripping black ooze.” 

On page 204, while Buddy and Dot are exploring in the dark with a flashlight, they turn the flashlight above them and see this. “Something wet. Black. Dripping. A figure. With something sharp that glinted in the light. Like teeth.

And then the flashlight died in the shadows.”

Pages 274 and 275, we get this description. 

“Standing there was the creature from Sammy’s notebook. It wasn’t just some made-up doodle, it was real. And it was…

Bendy.

At least, some strange version of the cartoon character. The head was the most like him. Shaped in the same way, round with two points for horns. He had that same smile too. Big and white, with lines separating each tooth, only these teeth were real. They glistened with saliva. The rest? Well, the rest of his face was covered in ink, ink dripping from his head over where his eyes should be. Did that mean he was blind? I didn’t think there needed to be logic with such a creature. 

His body was long and lean, and he too was dripping ink. No, not just lean, but almost like a dripping skeleton. I could see the indentation beneath his rib cage. But he was still partly cartoon character, which was probably the most terrifying part about him.He still had that white bow tie and one white glove like the ones all the characters had. 

He stood there. A growl deep inside him like a revving engine.” 

And then skipping ahead a bit, after ripping Dave’s arm off, he transforms-

“The beast now seemed to be growing in size. His arms and legs lengthening, his head spreading, his teeth getting sharper.” 

I went back to page 147, the first encounter Buddy has with the monster in the infirmary, but it doesn’t give us any physical description of the monster. It talks about shadows on the walls and the lights dimming that sound like the ink demon’s aura, and the handprint he gets on the back of his shirt doesn’t have a description other than being black. There is an interesting thing with there being a yellow coloring to the room/light for the infirmary on page 143 that I need to look back at later, but that’s not gonna help me with this matter (that’s for another theory another day). 

When looking at these descriptions of the monster, it sounds like most of them line up with what we knew about the BATIM ink demon in his regular and beast form, save for one. Sammy’s notebook sketch is described with limbs that are long and “praying mantis like”, and Buddy also takes note that the creature has claws. Now, the BATIM ink demon does not have claws, he has one human-ish hand and one gloved cartoon hand, and while he does have some length to him, I’d argue this description fits better with our BATDR ink demon. I mean if you look at the way his limbs bend, they are kind of mantis-like. Granted, I could say similar things about Beast Bendy in that regard, but he’s not quite so gangly. The sharp teeth throw me off, as again, that’s a Beast Bendy trait, BATDR ink demon has very flat teeth by comparison, deadly, but not sharp.

I think you could absolutely make the argument that Sammy’s drawing from when he was succumbing to the ink could be of the BATDR ink demon, though it feels a bit flimsy, I don’t have anything super concrete here. But then again, this is Buddy’s interpretation of Sammy’s art, which isn’t 100% reliable given, Buddy is not a reliable narrator for a lot of the book. You could easily brush off inconsistencies as Buddy having a warped memory from how long he’s been trapped as a Boris. I’m not sure how I feel about that, I suppose it’s a strength and a weakness of these books, depending on how you look at it.

Having the BATDR ink demon on the cover art could easily mean some retconning, but like, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here. I think the lore has changed as to how the ink demon works, and I don’t think they had everything mapped out from the beginning. But I also feel like you can work the BATDR ink demon design into an earlier point in the timeline given what one of our big twists is in BATDR.

We hear from Wilson and the Keepers that they’ve been running experiments to trap the ink demon in a smaller, more vulnerable form. And this plotpoint has always bothered me since, how the hell did Wilson figure it out before Joey did? We know that Wilson was digging through Joey’s old stuff thanks to the BATDS teaser of his voice and his other audiologs, but what did Joey have that could have clued him in that this was a possibility? Records of Gent experiments perhaps? How can a man who doesn’t truly understand how the ink works build off of Joey and Gent’s work to get their desired result? Before Wilson was in the picture, the story felt like Joey had a monster locked up and then on the loose after the ink demon didn’t turn out to be his perfect Bendy. Given the room Buddy finds the ink demon in is filled with medical tools, I’ve often thought maybe they were using him for experiments, and it begs the question, what were those experiments? Were they trying to make him into a perfect Bendy? Were they testing the limits of the ink? It feels like it could be those things.

Here’s what I suspect is going on: ink demon didn’t come out as a perfect Bendy, so they’re trying to make him fit that mold in post. Thing is, Joey and Gent? They’re not treating him very well, and he’s giving them trouble, so they’re running other experiments in the background and using data from what they learned from him before applying that knowledge to him. Hence why we get Buddy Boris, Susie as Twisted Alice, etc, but no perfect Bendy yet. My thought process is, if the ink demon came out of the machine looking like Beast Bendy or his BATDR incarnation, then the ink demon we see in BATIM could be what happens after some experimenting. The BATIM ink demon is closer to how Bendy looks than any other version of the monster, it makes sense for him to be an in-between form in the evolution of this monster, we could’ve just been wrong about the order it goes in. 

The thing is, this means Joey, Tom, and Gent made significant progress in a short amount of time, if we got from the big scary sharp toothed monster to the one with a skeleton shape and one good glove over the course of one book. Sammy drinking the ink and falling under its influence seems to be contained over the course of this book.

Page 259 

“”What happened to me? You know what happened to me! You were there! You saw it”...”That day the ink found me. It wanted me. He wanted me. At first I was scared. At first I could feel it inside, the drops I’d swallowed by accident. By luck. I could feel them moving around inside me. I shouldn’t have been scared. I was foolish.””

This seems to be in reference to the pipes bursting in the supply closet and dowsing Sammy with ink, which was the start of his cravings. Buddy was there as a direct witness to this event. If Sammy drew this monster while under the influence of the ink, he’s changed forms within this book. I know the paragraph describing the monster Buddy actually saw starts off with a note about being like the drawing, but when you compare the descriptions, the monsters are different, especially with the way they describe teeth. It could easily be that the reason Buddy calls this out as the monster from Sammy’s drawing is because he sees it transform a little while later, even though it’s not an exact match in the moment of this encounter. 

So the ink demon’s form changing is possibly a recent development for him and his abilities within this book, and the fact that he goes back to being a more threatening monster not too far into the scene where Buddy and Dot have a boss fight with him makes me think that maybe the BATIM ink demon form didn’t stick as well as it could have at first. Like they could achieve it, but it took a long time to make him stay that way. It would also add to why he’s so hostile and why our little Bendy is scared of the Gent buildings. It may not just be trauma over what Wilson and the Keepers did, it may be tied to what happened to him with Joey, Tom, and Gent too.

Whatever the case may be, I have a lot of questions and curiosities about the upcoming graphic novel, and I look forward to seeing what comes next. Remember, whatever they decide to do, whatever happens, you’re still allowed to have your headcanons and noncanon things you play with. The world of Bendy getting expanded does not mean you’re not allowed to have fun with old or new ideas, nor does it give you clearance to be nasty to other fans if they choose to incorporate or ignore this entry when building their fan works. Normally I don’t feel the need to say that, most of us are pretty chill here in the fandom, but some recent interactions have made me feel like this is worth reiterating. Be kind to each other, we’re all fandom nerds bonding over a love of a fictional realm of demons and monsters, that’s really what matters most here. 

Here’s sending you all the good vibes! Tell me what you’d think, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

[essayofthoughts]

For the DVD commentary ask game; hey Essay what the *fuck*

[Aka: Tiefling AU recounting of the de Rolos' deaths]

--

(He sees: his father, bruised and bloodied, clothes torn to rags, fingers broken and twisted in unnatural ways, sees him wheezing and wheezing and going still.)

(He sees: his mother, a crossbow quarrel in her shoulder, no armour to protect her, her glasses smashed, all her ferocious protectiveness turned useless by restraints as they forced her to watch-)

(He sees: Julius, choked, held by the throat by the man he’d just run through, Sylas Briarwood, smiling, sneering, tossing his brother down into the cells-

(He sees: Vesper, beloved older sister, spellbook torn from her hands as she tried to get enough space to cast something, anything, fleeing to the highest tower and only finding freedom by being thrown from it.)

(He sees: Oliver, Whitney, Ludwig, Oliver’s ribs cracking and cracked, Whitney’s fingernails torn ragged, torn out, Ludwig’s teeth ripped free to leave bleeding gums.) (He sees Cassandra, the last one left, at his cell, picking the lock, pulling him free.)

So, I'll admit that some of this is stuff I tend to hold to across fics - traits of Percy's siblings and ways that Ripley hurt them, but it's also that...

Trauma is messy and it messes with your memory. I highly doubt Percy remembers the whole of what was done to him and his family - too painful, too awful, too viscerally horrible - but he, like anyone, can remember fragments of it. Bits and pieces and not the whole and it's both better (less painful) and worse (surely he owes it to them to remember the whole of it?). It also means I can narrate it like this - like a fragmented flashback, because most flashbacks aren't solely visual and can be incoherent. They are often emotional or aural or based on a smell or a fleeting sound or wrong touch, and I wanted to invoke that broken incoherency in how Percy recalls things.

It also makes it more impactful for a reader. I can't write Ripley's detached torture of the de Rolos, not like @officialtrashbin can (and has for their Vampire Percy fic The Suffering of Night; it's great, go read it if you haven't), and if I just described every piece of harm she wrought on them then that'd just become gorn and no one wants gorn. Further, by describing all of it, it becomes both overwhelming (gorn) but also disallows any space for the reader's own imagination, which can be even more effective at building horror, and by limiting it to small things with some basis in things people might have familiarity with, it brings it viscerally home to the reader. I talk about Whitney's fingernails torn ragged and then torn out - we've all had a hangnail! Some people have had nails torn off in accidents. I say "Ludwig's teeth ripped free to leave bleeding gums" and anyone who's had to have a tooth removed knows what that yawning gap can look like, and everyone knows what it's like at the dentists, having to hold your mouth open - there's little parts of it that most people will have some familiarity with and which give them a basis to imagine it from: it becomes verisimilitudinous that way. I hope.

A few of these things are also headcanons I've built out more recently or ones I chose specifically to hurt you, Blorb. Johanna having glasses I decided because I think if Percy has more tangible habits and traits from his father, I'd like him to have his bad eyesight from his mother, just to balance it. I'd decided Julius was protective of his siblings long ago as the eldest; the idea of him trying to fight back but being unable because Sylas Briarwood came naturally from that. Vesper however... Vesper was specifically because this AU is for you.

I know you remember and hold to the idea of Vesper being thrown from a tower, and I've had a headcanon of her dabbling in spells for a while; it felt fitting to combine those for a smidge of extra pain here, Vesper trying to get enough space to safely cast something, anything, and being given only a twisted version of freedom, thrown from a tower, unable to cast Featherfall or Fly.

That one was specifically put there for you.

Send me ~500 words from a fanfic I've written and I'll give DVD Commentary-esque explanation of why I wrote it like that

[starboyshoyo]

hiii! it says that there’s still a spot left, so i hope that i’m able to rq a twst matchup! feel free to ignore this if not!!

—

name: lauren

personality: i’m an infp! i’d describe myself as creative, introverted, empathetic, observant, gentle, kind, cautious, shy, intelligent, and a daydreamer.

hobbies: i love drawing, listening to music, baking, and reading 🔥

likes: music, literally anything involving cats, visual kei, horror movies, splatoon, kpop, and true crime

dislikes: bugs (ESPECIALLY roaches omfg gross), super hot weather, noisy and crowded/busy areas

song: stacking chairs - middle kids!!! i love the vibes, sound, and the lyrics really resonate with me too

qualities in a partner: honest, supportive, funny, sweet, kindhearted, and loyal. someone who is able to accept my flaws and love me for who i am and vice versa 👍👍

what i expect: i want it to last! if i date, i’d want it to be someone who would be willing to spend their future with me and who would take it seriously :)

any preferences: deuce is my favourite! dorms i like best are heartslabyul and scarabia.

thank you so much, and congrats on 500 followers!!! you’re an amazing writer and i wish you and your blog only the best for the future! 💕

A/N: so sorry for the late reply!

@glasscat17 I match you with...

Jamil Viper!

Jamil might seem like quite the distant one at first. He’s good at keeping himself calm and putting up a facade, but with you he can relax. He loves your quiet empathy, because few other people think about his well-being, and not just Kalim's.

Baking dates would be common with Jamil. He’s an expert at making sweet pastries since Kalim has a bit of a sweet tooth. Now though, he sets aside his best works for you, hiding them under a napkin off to the side of the kitchen. If Kalim asks him why there are fewer pastries than usual, he'll just shrug :)

He’s not always the most humorous person. He can’t crack jokes like his fellow students can and he’s certainly not making a fool of himself. But his deadpan reactions to things might sometimes get a laugh out of you anyways!

You guys both hate bugs. If you move in together, good luck deciding who's going to be the one to kill the spiders. Jamil loves you to death and would do anything for you, but spiders? Nope, you’re on your own. He'll hand you a rolled-up newspaper and then hide behind you.

Other Possibilities: Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucchi, Silver

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

002 of 2025

[created by: krissyw1993]

Do you kiss your pets?

Yup, I kiss her nose. She loves it and licks my cheek in return :P I don't mind it because Susie is a cat, and cats have harsh tongues.

Are you in college?

No, I graduated in, like, 2013. I didn't go past bachelors, though. I started another degree in while in school, but dropped out when I had a stroke, so let's say it's an infinite hiatus/Might pick it up back soon, though. I have time.

what is your favorite johnny depp movie?

I don't really watch movies, but Edward Scissorhand was my first thought.

Would you lick a pole for $5?

Not yours, for sure.

Have you thought about whether or not you’re gay?

Yup, many times. Came to the conclusion that yes, I am gay.

Have you ever had gay thoughts for your best friend?

Kind of... and we're married now. :P

Have you ever farted in public and blamed someone else?

Yea it's so easy to blame it on a cat lol. Seriously though, no.

Have you ever had wet dreams about your friend?

No, but I rarely have wet dreams at all, and even if so, they're extremely random and I'm like wtf when I wake up. XD

Do you like butt sex?

Meh. I'm not into sex at all, but for compromising, well.

Do you like saying penis?

Nope. I like drawing them in your notebook, though.

Do you find hairy butt cracks attractive?

Lmao. This goes deep XD no, I don't find any butt cracks attractive.

Have you ever had an std?

Thankfully not.

Do you like waffles?

Gotta surprise you, I'm Belgian and I'm not big on waffles, unless they're Brussels waffles, and only when I really fancy them. Yes we have several types of waffles here.

Have you ever shit bricks?

I prefer shitting cones. Or cubes. Or tesseracts because I'm oh so sophisticated.

Have you ever hit yourself or someone else in the balls with a ball?

I used to be a basketball player in my teens and guess what, it actually happened. XD Hurts like hell. But it's not my only accident during these times - once a teammate accidentally hit me in the face because I missed the ball he was throwing to me and I lost one tooth. Oh well.

Do you ever wish you had a theme song that played when you did something awesome?

Yup. And also in sad times and angry times and generally all the time.

Have you ever killed somebody in your head?

Yup. I wouldn't do it in person, though, and I grew up from holding grudges.

Do say no offense before you insult somebody?

I don't insult people on purpose. It's awful.

Have you ever had a dream so realistic you had to think whether it really happened or not?

90% of my dreams is like that.

Have you played random notes on a piano and had them actually sound good?

Yeah. Even my sister said it, and she's a professionally trained pianist.

If you were a shark, would you attack somebody for wearing a speedo?

...wut?

Has someone called your house phone and asked you where you were?

I don't have landline.

Do you get really paranoid when someone has your phone?

Yea. All that gay porn I have stored there XD just kidding. I don't have anything special there, but still, I don't like when someone else uses my devices.

Did you know that stressed spelled backwards is desserts? : )

Oh my, discovery of the year. The Nobel prize is calling.

Four letter word using the first letter of your last name to describe you?

Junk.

Do you crank your music up loud when you’re depressed?

No, but I definitely need music then.

Would you say you have an attitude or just a personality others cant handle?

Attitude that not everyone can handle, apparently.

Has anyone become your entire world?

Yes, my older cat. Sadly she passed away.

Would you say you are addicted to texting or to the person you are texting?

Neither.

[tri-poke]

Despite Zach not really knowing how to really describe what he wants Cookie to do, she seems to cotton on. She pulls and does far more than show off exceptional strength, focusing in on the line of fracture so she forces him down along just the right angle.

And Demon-Tooth does Cookie one better, despite not possibly being able to know what's going on. As soon as Zach is seated and wrapping the rope around the horn, it's like he's orienting her dead on to the crack and she leans into it, following that direction of Open until she's dead on down the line. And it's not just Zach holding the tornado any more.

Demon-Tooth rears and he can feel the tornado flex as if now it has no choice but to pay attention. She hisses and Zach can't hear it as anything but joyous, like she's looking forward to the fight.

But with her strength, Zach is able to actually relax a little into his hold and feel what is going on instead of just struggling to hold onto to the whirlwind.

The opening has sensory information and the more he pays attention, the clearer if more confusing it becomes. He could probably draw it if he had to... or help Cookie spice up a meal to make it taste the same. He suspects he'll be listening for the thin, slick sound of it for the rest of his life. Even the smell, he expects he could guide a perfumery into making with enough time and effort. He starts to think about what it might feel like in his muscles as choreographed movement, a dance, just not like one he has yet seen in his life.

As it slips toward being identifiable and knowable as some perverse manner of civic population control, Cookie flicks his ear to bring him back to his own awareness. "This, I think, is like taking some poisons. The world is distracting, yes? Be here. Be now. Do not think too much about how strange things are. Think only of what it is you want to do. You have a mission. The mission is what matters. You will survive or you will die. The poison will make reality spin. But the mission is the center. You tell me what you want to do and I will keep you alive to finish the mission, even if your skin freezes while the world burns and the stars fall. What do you want to do?"

For all the weirdness and power of the fissure, Zach can feel that what is possible to do with it is fairly limited.

He can close it, effectively destroying Tariq's guidance.

He can open it wider to allow for more options... and yes, in that direction he sees that he can change the contours of the opening so that it will lead in a different direction but Zach can now feel that is very much an act of Opening, like a door. The light will be able to branch in a different direction because he will be Opening the door to show someplace else rather than here.

He can pull or push on the fissure, or at least Demon-Tooth can do it with his guidance. It won't make the crack lead somewhere else but it can speed Tariq up or slow him down. If Tariq never noticed, Zach isn't sure they couldn't just hold him in place indefinetly as he simply pulled the lightning strike back to hold its place. Or he could jam it forward so Tariq was in the middle of the Matriarch's children before he could take stock of the situation.

And there's something that feels something like a lock, just not like any lock that Zach has ever encountered. There seem to be nearly infinite degrees of lockedness and unlockedness. It is currently neither way all the way, if anything it's pretty close to locked, so the door can only OPEN so wide and allow things to change only so much. Zach thinks there might be a way to lock it to stick the land so it is... frozen for lack of a better word, that he could stick Tariq and the Matriarch and everything around them for miles in time as effectively as if he had turned all of it to stone at once. Not dead. But not alive. Not gone. But very much not able to act. Just locked in place. Assuming that Tariq didn't know a way to act while frozen in time. Or the reverse. He could simply unlock it and the door swing like it is barely there, unleashing chaos. But he's pretty sure Tariq would have a pretty good idea how to deal with that given everything so far.

He's not sure there isn't more that could be done but that's all he can feel. However Arthur Eld made the storm change course without doing anything else... Zach expects he would need more than instinct to figure out.

[supertalentedghostbassist]

(Overheard in bass studio)

“Yeah, my mom made everyone gift bags for Valentine’s Day”

“Ah, yes, that explains The Cronch”