#i LOVE reading though. so it gets some points just for that

[cometconmain]

That sounds fucking amazing and I hope we get to where you guys are on that one day. Also those names are hilarious and I love them. XD

(Heads up short rant below the keep reading in case people don't want to and let me know if this is annoying/bad etiquette on a funny lighthearted post and I'll delete it. /genuine)

Right now you have to word things very carefully to get medically prescribed weed in Australia and you certainly CANNOT tell them that you get any kind of anxiety on the wrong dosage/type or that'll undermine your point about how it helps with anxiety (it does; I've just had some shitty experiences with someone taking advantage of me being knocked out from too high a dose/deliberately dosing me to do that and now my brain immediately panics if I put even one foot past the not-at-least-50%-aware-and-able-to-push-through-in-an-emergency state of relaxed/happy/creative/calm-my-farm-because-my-brain-moves-too-fast I want and need.)

My situation is not a problem most of the time now because I say I'm a pathetic lightweight (which is true) and that I need a lower potency (also true) and that I take ridiculously tiny amounts so I really don't need much to get what I need without getting HighTM because I don't want to be (also completely true) and hell, I actually take LESS than the prescribed amount because he has me on it daily and only take it 2 times a week (3 maximum) because I like to keep my tolerance levels down because if they raise it fucks with my very careful managing of the exact amount I need which I know won't send me into a panic attack. (This part I don't say because they don't trust people to be responsible with it in my country even though they're perfectly happy letting people destroy their livers and lives with alcohol which is available in multiple stores and pretty much unregulated past the necessary laws like don't drink and drive).

I would love to be able to say all of that and not have them decide to take it off me despite how much it helps when I take it exactly the way I need to which is far less than many other people (who are also valid though they're constantly treated even worse, like they'll go full opium-level-addiction or something and that's so shit).

Crossed fingers I will one day get to see Ooga Booga Skywalker Cake on a weed store's shelves even if it's not the exact strain I need. That's fucking epic. XD

[meelusinee]

JUST A LITTLE RAIN ☆ M.R X READER

in which mattheo falls in love with the rain because of you

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader

tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: just fluffity fluff

author’s note: part three of the lovesick!mattheo series! i’ve been really tired recently (not really an issue, just me having a bad sleep schedule) so i’m hoping this wording makes sense! thank you guys so much for the support, especially the first part of this series???? its almost at 1k?????

JUST A LITTLE RAIN | M.R X READER

It was a rainy day at Hogwarts, your eyes looking out at the rain pattered against the large windows. Sometimes the rain made you feel like a small kid watching the snow again, the rush of running outside and tasting it on your tongue getting you sick too many times to mention.

Ever since you started dating Mattheo, that habit seemed to reach out to him. 

Sometimes you would convince him to sit by the window with you, reading you a book while you rested your head on his lap. Or other times, you’d convince him to take you out on a broom ride, your bodies hovering no more than a couple of inches over the pitch just in case.

Mattheo found himself associating the rain with you more and more every day.

It was something he came to love.

“It’s raining,” Mattheo whispered, his head resting on his knuckles as he looked out the window.

Him and Theodore were inside of the library and studying, something he committed himself to when he started dating you. Especially to topics you struggled with, hoping that his ability to help you would mean you spent more time together.

The rain distracted him though, reminding him of you napping in his dorm.

“Do you want to move?” Theo asked.

“Why would I move?” he asked confusedly. 

Theo shrugged, looking up from his book. “You usually don’t like the rain. Messes with your hair.”

“I like the rain now,” he said simply, looking outside. There was a small race happening between two of the rain drops, and he was absolutely captivated. “I think the second one will win.”

“Second, what now?” Theo asked. 

“The second raindrop,” he said calmly, pointing to the raindrop dropping on the right. “The one on this side is gonna win.”

“Right,” Theo drawled out, watching as it gained momentum and dropped first.

“See?” Mattheo smiled softly, pointing at the raindrop that fell. “I learned how to predict them, they have a certain density to the ones that fall first. It’s hard to tell, but Y/N always smiled whenever I guess them right.”

“You are so down bad.” Theo chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

“What?” Mattheo asked defensively. “I like seeing my girlfriend smile!”

“Down bad.” Theo smirked, rolling his eyes as he leaned over and patted Mattheo’s hand. “It’s okay though, we still appreciate you.”

“Hush.” he said, rolling his eyes back. “I love her.”

“I can tell.” Theo smirked, continuing to pat Mattheo’s hand. “You tell me it every day.”

“Do I?” he asked curiously.

“When you wake up you tell her,” Theo began to list the events on his fingers. “At breakfast, every time you’re late to class because you were walking her, when you plate her food at lunch, every time you take her flying, when you go on dates,” he listed. “Hell, half the time you kick us out the dorm room to have some privacy!”

“You would do the same.” Mattheo grumbled, much like a petulant child might.

“No, you’re just really down bad.” Theo chuckled, closing his book. “Why don’t you find your girl if she loves rain so much? Surely she’ll want to dance.”

“You’re right!” Mattheo said, closing his books and running out of the library.

“Always am.” Theo hummed under his breath.

“Cariño!” Mattheo called out, huffing slightly as he walked up to you. You were sitting by the window, like always, a small smile on your face.

“Did you run here from the library?” you chuckled softly, your hand moving to scratch his head.

“Doesn’t matter.” he said. “Do you want to dance in the rain with me? Enzo owes me a favor after I covered for him last week, he can bring us some soup after.”

“That sounds lovely.” you chuckled softly, smiling as you stood up. “Let me get my ponchos!”

Mattheo smiled softly as he followed you, watching you putting on your rain boots and your yellow poncho. His smile widened even more as he felt your hands on his body, your hands placing a poncho on his body happily.

His hands wrapped around your waist as he gave you a small kiss on the lips, both of you chuckling softly at the sound of the poncho crinkling loudly under his hand. “That sounds horrible.”

“You’re funny.” you giggled, hands holding his as you started running outside. “Come on!”

Mattheo watched as you ran through Hogwarts and towards the Quidditch Pitch, your hands waving happily in the sky as you felt the rain dripping onto your skin. You looked absolutely beautiful in the rain, the water dripping down your face.

“Come on!” you repeated, dragging him out into the rain with you. Your boots both squelched on the muddy ground, the feeling of rain pouring down on his face more refreshing than he’d ever think it could ever be.

But the most precious thing about all of this was you in the rain. The water dripping down your face, the joy in your smile as you ran through the muddy Quidditch pitch. You looked absolutely perfect.

“I love you.” he whispered softly, smiling brightly as you came back to him. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too!” you giggled, wrapping your arms around him. Both of you giggled at the crinkling sound that the ponchos made, smiling softly as you began kissing in the rain. 

“You know,” he whispered softly, the both of you waltzing in the rain. “You made me love the rain.” 

“You didn’t like the rain?” you asked him, your eyes darting over his face as you analyzed him.

“No, I didn’t.” he chuckled shyly. “I mean, I didn’t think it was a big deal when I had a change of heart, but Theo kind of changed that.”

“Oh?” you asked, giggling softly.

“He always says that I’m down bad.” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he continued to waltz with you.

“You are just a little.” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “But it’s okay, we still love you.”

“I love you.” he whispered, kissing your lips.

“I love you too.” you whispered, kissing him back and caressing his face.

“Seriously, Mattheo?” Enzo asked, looking at you and him huddled up in bed with tissues by both of your sides. “You both got sick again?”

You and Mattheo were laying in his bed with blankets huddled around you, both of your noses completely stuffed. “I’m sorry Enzo.”

“The rain,” he said simply, caressing your back as he kissed your forehead. Even when he was sick, he still showed you love as much as he could. “There’s nothing to apologize for, you owe me a favor. Now go make me soup.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE

thank you guys so much for reading and supporting! i’ve been loving writing this series, but i also don’t have much else to say about it other than thank you?????? if you guys have any prompts you want for lovesick!mattheo, comment them below!!

AS ALWAYS, please like, reblog, and comment! have a lovely day lovelies!

[unknownati]

iv. ekko x gn!black!reader hcs

a/n: they got me yall.

sorry for whoever followed me for tlou content we'll be having a brief intermission i'll come back to them in a minute js let me get this out my system 😭🙏🏾

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no mention of reader's features (except for being black, but it's only in a few points 🤷🏾‍♀️ so it can be read otherwise), arcane s2 spoilers (minor), sfw and nsfw hcs, (oral sex, kinks, riding), in some au where everyone is happy and nothing bad ever happened 😊, never proofread we ball 🔥

______________________________________________

sfw:

- i feel like ekko is a bit shy (awkward shy though, not shy-shy...does that make sense) when you first get into a relationship with him, and it's just because he's shocked that he's managed to get with you. at first he's stumbling over words, playing off your compliments, desperately trying to keep eye contact with you but if he does he just keeps smiling because you look so good.

-one time, while riding past you on his hoverboard, you waved at him. he waved back, but even as you walked away his eyes kept following you. if it wasn't for scar warning him at the last second, he would've crashed straight into a wall.

- his cockiness comes later into your relationship, every successful action he does followed by a grin that you roll your eyes at.

-and did y'all see the way he looked at powder in ep. 7? his puppy dog eyes are LETHAL.

-he doesn't even know it either. every time he wants something, he just looks at you with those eyes and murmurs "please, ☆?" you fold so quick.

-(you've tried to learn to resist his eyes as they are what caused you to sprain your ankle in a hoverboarding accident since he begged you to race him. he just wanted to show off, too. he didn't stop apologizing for weeks.)

-he usually doesn't really like people touching his hair. he's fine with the kids doing it from time to time, but in general it's not his favorite thing in the world.

-you, however

-you get a pass because you get it. you know how it feels for your hair to just be like a petting zoo from time to time. you know exactly how to help him care for his hair, so much so that he's stopped doing his own retwists. (not like they stay in for very long, you immediately help him sweat it out 😊)

-he's made a lot of random little things for you, like a small chain necklace with an empty locket. he kind of sucks at wrapping gifts though, so he just handed it to you with a stupid smile while you two were perched at the top of the firelight tree.

-"ekko, this is so cute," you mutter, your bottom lip jutted out in adoration as you inspect the delicately crafted chain. small mistakes here and there, but you loved it.

-he also learned how to sew just so he could make you a bonnet/durag. he even sewed a crude little "e" in the corner of it, and made himself one with your initial in it as well.

-will randomly shadow box you out of no where. it's some form of cuteness aggression or something, because you'll be talking about your day while absent-mindedly twiddling with the hem of your shirt, and suddenly there are fists flying towards you that he knows to never let connect.

-"...ekko, the fuck are you doing?"

-he makes small noises that sound like "shoo" every time his fist flies, watching you stare at him with an unimpressed look.

-saw someone else say this but yeah ekko can't hoop. sorry

-he CANNOT hide his facial expressions. he may tell you one thing, but his face will never lie. if you're out eating and you feed him a bite of your food, you can watch his face contort into one of disgust, so much so that he almost looks offended. upon realizing that he doesn't want to yuck your yum, he'll fix his face into the fakest smile you've ever seen and nod.

-"...ekko, go spit it out."

-you've never seen him reach for a napkin any quicker.

-idk who the arcane universe's michael jackson is but, when he was younger he absolutely learned all the dances.

-probably the biggest softie the world has ever seen. he's very tough in public, but once he closes the door behind you two and climbs into bed with you, he's clinging onto you like a sloth.

-if you like painting your nails, he'll (hesitantly) allow you to paint his nails to match yours.

-(these next few ones are sliiightly for me 🤭)

-loves when you draw on his arms.

-until he can't get whatever marker you used off of his skin in the shower, so now he's walking around looking like a coloring book with little flowers, hearts, and signatures on his arms.

-he hangs up all the drawings you make of him up along his work space. sometimes he forgets one and leaves it on his desk, so it's a pleasant surprise to find a drawing of himself among scattered and disorganized papers while he was cleaning up.

-has gotten used to you randomly biting him. you'll come up behind him while he's working, and he already knows it's coming when you rest your chin on his exposed shoulder. 2 seconds later, your teeth are sinking into his skin. he just chuckles, but he does ask once.

-"why do you do that?"

-"oh, i dunno. i just like doing it. 's how you know i like you."

nsfw (very brief i'm sorry):

-praise kink. you couldn't tell me otherwise

-loves giving praise, loves receiving praise.

-when he's giving you head, he almost does it for his own pleasure. feeling your hand rub against his undercut while you whine and mutter "fuuuck, ekko, you're so good. don't stop please" is all he needs

-and i'm glad we've all agreed he's a thigh guy too 🙌🏾

-and IK we say this about every fictional man but HE WHIMPERS.

-he starts off with groans and grunts, but the closer he gets, the more his voice starts to shake and his words start to become whines.

-he looooves when you ride him holy shit

-looking up at you while your face contorts in pleasure is absolutely on his top 10.

-and if you stare into his eyes while you do it? his soul has left thanks!

-in general he loves eye contact. when you look up at him with his length between your lips, you can see his brain start to short-circuit.

-he's definitely the type to make sure you finish first before he even gets to think about his own pleasure.

-he's usually super sleepy afterwards too, but he refuses to lay down for a second until he makes sure you're all cleaned up and comfortable before he's out cold on your chest.

______________________________________________

[r-1-der]

warnings: groping, bottom sevika (youre welcome), fingering, begging, i am not proof reading ever

your arms draped around her sleeping naked form, snuggled in under the blankets for the night. she was always so sweet like this, when she stirred upon feeling her warmth being disturbed by you.

"shhh... go back to sleep."

sevika sighed sleepily and nudged herself further back against your chest, enjoying your hands caressing her, and your lips pressing lingering kisses to her shoulders.

"just wanted to kiss on you a bit..."

she helped maneuver when your arm trapped beneath her heavy weight wanted to wander. stroking down from her chest, over her stomach which you were very pleased to notice had garnered some extra fat over the past few months, before lingering by her abdomen.

your other caressed up and down her side, admiring her strong hips and waist, moving up to the remnants of her left shoulder as you pulled her in further to kiss the damaged blade, before your hand passed back down once more to repeat the worship.

sweet sighs left sevika happily, her hand finding yours as it began to brush through her bush, just touching the softness of her. she was so lovely behind all that irritability.

"mmh... 'm just keeping you up now, aren't i?" you murmured behind her ear, pressing your soft lips there.

"did you hear a complaint?" her tone made you chuckle, right to the point.

"i didnt hear much of anything, come on... let me hear some" you urged her gently, unabashedly touching her boobs, squeezing the impossibly soft tissue in your hand. fuck how badly you wanted to get your mouth on them, to really earn those moans and sighs from her.

it was hard to not play with sevika like that. to not squeeze and touch the mass of that woman any chance you could swindle.

your fingers lightly circled her clit, your mouth settling on sucking and licking onto sevikas neck in its place.

"aah... bit further down- yeah... fuck."

ever so bossy, even in the bedroom, it was impossible not to know how to please sevika, she always told. always ran her mouth to urge you this way and that, and when her words fell flat or drowned in her ecstasy, pulling your hair did the job just as well.

"let me finger you," you suggest into sevikas ear, sighing along with her noises. she nodded, whined into her pillow as your fingers trailed further down to tease her. not fully giving in you dipped your fingers, drawing her wetness back up her labia, rubbing her just how she liked it, before dipping back down. and all so slow. sevika, though impatient, loved when you took your sweet time with her like this, unraveled her slowly with your fingers, but much more preferably your mouth.

her hips twitched, her butt pushing back into your hips. the stimulation was so perfect, but her insides ached for you. her lungs stopped on their own volition with the overwhelming yet lacking touches.

"come on."

"say 'please', sevika, be good."

she huffed as she always did. but following another whimper with a harder yet still gentle press of your fingers, she shuddered and let a small 'please' leave her lips.

she felt your lips pull into a smile beneath her ear as your fingers pressed against her opening, threatening to enter. but they drew back just as they were about to, and drew back to her labia.

"no- please. come on, ive said it. please."

again you couldnt help but chuckle a little, but you gave in, you were losing the feeling in your hand anyway.

a whiny groan left her lips as you pushed deep into her. with slow measured thrusts of your fingers you pulled her apart. she squeezed around your fingers as you added more, knowing how sevika enjoyed feeling stuffed by you, how good it felt.

it didnt take long for her to tremble back against you, almost on top of you with how she had turned to spread her thick legs.

"does that feel good? must be, from how youre spreading yourself open for more."

a helpless sound left her.

"fuck, please... ahh- 's good."

"yeah, it is... i treat you so well. im so good to you," you kept talking sweetly into her ear while her breath hitched and she began squirming uselessly.

"so good you'll cum on my fingers, just like this, right? please, sevika... feels so good having you like this."

sevika couldnt help herself. she mindlessly begged for you, bucking her hips into your hand, helping herself to grinding her clit into your cramping palm.

"just like that, come on.."

her beathing stopped just as a groan painfully squeezed out of her while she came onto your fingers, coating them even further than they already were.

there was an attempt in holding onto her as her back arched away from you and her hips pushed down as far as they would go on your fingers, grinding them deep inside herself until she was spent and satisfied.

"that good, huh?" you tease her with glee in your voice.

"ugh... shut up..." she relaxed into you again, her breath running away from her.

"want to hear you say it, humour me." your fingers slowly pulled out and drew back up her pussy to her clit, tapping it lightly. "tell me."

she winced and grabbed onto your wrist.

"youre a pest."

"you dont let just any flea fuck you."

"youre a well-trained one."

"mh... i'll take it. kiss me...?"

sevika turned her head, drowsiness finding her once more beneath the warmth of the blankets and your arms, kissing you gently.

"...thank you... it was good," she quietly admits against your lips.

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

[celtrist]

This was a planned thing I had around the time I had this little rant (appreciate everyone who's bothered reading that thank you!)

Seeing as we have three canonically Asexual characters, I thought each of them having a different romantic orientation (and varying asexuality on the scale) would be fun and neat to show the variations to the orientations! But I was really stumped on Mammon since I was pretty set on Alastor and Octavia, but Mammon not being any form of aromantic didn't feel right, not terribly ooc, just definitely felt a bit more like "he's the leftovers" sort of thing when divvying up the romantic orientations. But lo and behold, the new episode of Helluva came out and helped solved that little quandrie. So here are my thoughts below on each!

Alastor (Loveless Aromantic) If you've seen my rant, you probably have a good idea why I labeled him as a "loveless aromantic" (meaning in this sense I'm talking about, he just wouldn't have any form of romantic affections or go into something like a QPR or the like). And I do genuinely think he would be! But I know there's A LOT of bias for Alastor NOT being aromantic (or at least open to some sort of relationship), and I will admit I might've been a bit biased here too! I've just seen a lot of love for only specific parts of the aro spectrum that "allows" Alastor to get with someone, and I wanted to give some love to the aro spectrum that gets little to no appreciation (plus I do just genuinely think he'd be this). If you don't agree, all is fair ദ്ദി（• ˕ •マ.ᐟ The point is, I realize I'm probably in the minority here. Plus, it's all a guessing game more or less until something is officially stated, which probably will never happen for any of these three.

Anyway, like I said, I just don't see Alastor really getting as close to anyone even as a QPR. At the VERY LEAST, not in a QPR that has a lot of romantic parts to it (kissing on the lips, cuddling, etc.). My man wouldn't have any interest in marriage or anything romantic, he's very happy on his own and probably gossips about OTHER people's love lives. Then again, he seemed pretty close to cracking when he heard Charlie ranting about her own love life... With that said, I do think he DOES like the company of others, he's VERY social after all. But actually, getting intimate with someone? Mmm, that doesn't feel right for him to me. A kiss on the cheek or PERHAPS a cuddle here and there at most, but nothing like bathing with someone or kissing with tongue. He's also a man of the roaring twenties, so you KNOW how he thinks about intimacies that might have no romantic/sexual connotations by themselves (like bathing with someone) are romantic on their own just because being that close to someone was seen that way in his time. Plus again, I just don't think he'd be interested in that stuff as is (potentially he could be both touch-starved and touch-aversed. And oh boy, wouldn't that be a conundrum!) On one hand, I like and can see Alastor being sex-repulsed, on the other I can also see him just feeling nothing towards it. Considering Angel's "advances" in both the first episode and the pilot, he does have a bit of a strong reaction towards sex, but nothing crazy either. I can see him being lukewarm to the subject (so he could read a book or read a script out loud with sex in it), but he could be repulsed when it actually INVOLVES HIM. I can definitely see him somewhat annoyed with the subject for how everywhere it is though.

Octavia (QPR Aromantic) It's a little hard to pinpoint, but I can personally see Octavia getting into a close QPR sooner than Alastor, but maaayybe only be a hair. Octavia could possibly get into a platonic relationship with someone that would have remnants of seeming romantic. I do think she's probably the most sex-repulsed of the three, if in part because of her father's inclinations that he doesn't seem to hide even when she's around. Honestly, I feel like we still haven't seen enough of her to get a good grasp on this aspect of her character in if she would be interested in getting as close as to a QPR with someone. But I'd certainly like to think so, because damn does our girl need it. Her falling into some sort of relationship would probably be hard seeing as how her parents' relationship was so awful. So she could be hesitant about doing something like that.

Mammon He was the big toughy! And while his advances on Leviathan might have been meant in a more platonic way or just for show to go against Ozzy's and Bee's romantic relations, I'm going with what's there! So Mammon seems like he could be straight or bi/pan. But I don't have a hard grasp on which so I'm tossing that in the air. I don't think he'd be sex-repulsed just because of how "sex makes money". Like, there's no question that sex appeal is a big part of business even if something isn't even that sexual. So while I think he's not largely interested in doing anything sexual, I can see him being okay or even lukewarm to the subject, maybe just not getting the appeal entirely. Maaaayybe he's sex-favorable? Of the three I would imagine he would be the most likely to be sex-favorable, but I dunno.

I like the idea of Octavia being the only one aware as to what her orientations are. Alastor is... well he's Alastor, and Mammon doesn't seem like he'd be too interested in the details of things. Just that "there's straight, gay, and the between area".

[woaza]

LOVE LOVE LOVE UR SCAR STUFF!!! I am so glad he's starting to get stuff written for him he's so awesome!!!! Please keep going feed us scar fiends

Scar (Arcane) x reader || Pt.2

Link to Pt.1

Contains : Continuation of my head cannons and thoughts on scar in a relationship and as a person.

Word count : 3.4k

Warnings : Scars baby mama being a little crazy(?), grief, mentions of death, some of this is kind of a stretch?

A/n : I HEAVILY AGREE with you! He needs more written about him. I can never find any it’s so strange. I’m so glad you liked my last scar fic. I will definitely continue to do them! I have a lot of requests for other characters, but I need some of him.

— Scar is a Vastaya or more specially a Chirean. Well at least some form of a Chirean? (At least from what little there is about him.) Chirean’s were first discovered by a Zaunite miner. They can’t speak human languages but are bat like. Which scar is. So I don’t know if he is a Chirean or at least some sort of subspecies or a descendent. Since he is classified as one and there is very little known about them.

— One thing we know about Chireans are that they are Omnivorous. So they don’t really have any diet restrictions, but most real bats are fruit bats. So Scar will eat meat and vegetables, but fruits are definitely a favorite of his. Just think about it. In the slums food is hard enough to keep on the table. Sweet things (not to mention difficult to grow) like fruits are a rare treat. Scar feels like they are a special treat, but something about fruit just makes him happy. (So bonus points if you have a fruity perfume or cologne?)

— With those bright green eyes of his can definitely see great in the dark. With that being said also more sensitive to lights. When the two of you wake up in the morning he groans in annoyance so loudly when you turn on your nightstand light. Which yes, nobody likes seeing the bright light first thing in the morning. But for him it’s ten times worse. He will burry his face against your body, looking for an escape from the light.

Though with his eyes comes many benefits. Like Late night walks with him are a must. When his daughter (Who in my head I’ve been calling Petra but I read a cute fic where she was called Riri. So I’m in debate of what her name is but I digress) is being watched by Ekko or someone else he trusts, he’ll take you out on late night walks. He loves to hold you close, helping guide you when you can’t see because it’s too dark.

— When you two first start to see each other more romantically. He literally pretends to be so nonchalant. Acting like he’s above slightly cheesy romantic activities. At the start is the type to watch you dance instead of joining him. Despite desperately wanting to. He just wants to make sure your really in it for the long run and not a quick fling. Scar takes his relationships very seriously, especially because of his daughter.

—Since we are in the topic of his daughter, Baby mama? I could see this going a couple different ways— and I don’t know which is worse.

The first way is that he never had a good relationship with her. Maybe it was a hookup or a messy situation in general. He grew up in the slums and probably wasn’t the greatest of a person himself. “True love” wasn’t really the top of his concerns. Until him and this woman had a daughter together. He (immediately) was ready to become more serious because a child was involved (probably because he felt uncared for in his childhood, not wanting to do that to a child?). Though she didn’t want that and hesitated. Eventually leaving him to raise her by himself.

The second way I could see, is him truly falling in love with someone. Finally having a family and starting to build a life. Having a daughter and a small place to call home, that is until the city’s were flooded with shimmer. Losing his wife/partner to it and will never forget her.

In either case I think the mother of his child is another reason he’s kind of concerned with romance and getting closer to you in general. Scared that everything that happened will just repeat itself.

A/n: maybe more of this? I like making these. BUT I love this photo of him sm. I think it’s cute he’s just genuinely smiling at his daughter.

[ckret2]

Kinda weird ask incoming: Are Bill's substance abuse issues in your characterization based on anything canon or an Alex Hirsch interview or something or is it just "he obviously would abuse substances (more) if this wasn't a disney show so I'm just filling in the blanks"

1/3 actual canon & context clues, 1/3 reading five feet deep into one foot deep canon material, 1/3 "he totally would if this wasn't Disney."

To my knowledge there's no interviews confirming that he's heavy on the substance ABUSE (rather than just substance use), but to my recollection I'm pretty sure he's got the most allusions to consuming something alcohol/drug-adjacent of all the characters in the show. Outside of Bill we've got:

Stan ordering "expired apple juice"

since we're including "they probably would have done this if not for Disney," you could make the argument that Stan drinking Pitt cola was probably supposed to be beer cans.

the apple cider at the Northwest party

I'm gonna throw in Grenda drinking spoiled milk

Mabel consuming Smile Dip

farmer Sprott drinking hippie tea and pouring it out when he sees the love god fly by

Ford & the Oracle drinking Cosmic Sand, something strong enough he wakes up the next morning in a different dimension

that one alcoholic priest in TBOB

on TINAWDC, Ford tells Stan where to find his stash of beer.

And I think that's it?? Remind me if there's more.

WITH Bill, we've got:

In the Bill Reddit AMA he mentions salting his margarita glass with Time Baby's molecules. (and for the longest time I'm pretty sure this was the only explicit reference to an alcoholic beverage in a Gravity Falls-adjacent media; but Reddit is a godless land where S&P cannot tread, so I'm not gonna put too much weight on that. Still worth mentioning tho.)

he's got Time Punch at his Fearamid Party. Considering the "time" in the name, it could be related to Cosmic Sand (maybe you mix sand to make the punch?) which would mean they're drinking HARD.

(if Cosmic Sand IS related to Time Punch, now that we know Jheselbraum was in Bill's gang, there's a high chance she picked up drinking it while in the Henchmaniacs, so that's another thing we can now tie back to Bill's influence.)

He's drinking something while trying to interrogate Ford, an activity you'd probably want to be clear headed for, meaning either he drinks so hard so regularly that he DOES still have a clear head or else he's so accustomed to going "this is stressful, I need a drink to unwind" that he just does it even though it puts him at a disadvantage.

with the addition of TBOB, we now have: the silly straw page, where he's drinking a cocktail while also sitting in an enormous cocktail. Bill gushes about silly straws as one of his favorite things; and we know that stems from childhood, but NOW he paints an association between silly straws, drinks, and an overall margaritaville vibe

Bill mentions that the shaman introduced him to a local strain of hallucinogenic moss

Bill brings boxed wine to the Puritan girls' night.

Bill gets Ford wasted at karaoke night (and I have no doubt Bill was just as sloshed)—and if he knows how to make a drink that'll get you drunk in your sleep, he's got some serious mixology chops

the O'Sadley's incident.

That's so big it gets two bullet points. Nowhere else in all of Gravity Falls is there such an extensive, explicit, or extreme example of unhealthy substance abuse—barring the Smile Dip incident, but like, Mabel didn't know that was gonna happen and immediately swore off Smile Dip.

Three bullet points. He noclipped a guy into the ceiling. he got so drunk he forgot he killed his mom. He was arrested for "indecent exposure." Bill you good???

So most of the examples of drinking/hallucinogenics we get from the rest of the show are like, casual drinking or else children doing stupid shit. ONE incident of depressed drinking and one alcoholic side character.

But Bill drinks when he's partying, drinks when he's depressed, drinks when he's relaxing, drinks when he's stressed, drinks socially, drinks alone, drinks when he's helping a friend have fun, and thinks about drinking when he contemplates his worst enemies.

Okay.

Now half of these are from TBOB, so obviously they didn't factor into my decision to portray him as inclined to substance abuse over a year ago; but like... I'd say I interpreted the info we had on hand correctly, yeah?

Beyond that, it's a headcanon built up on the fact that he's got a lot of traits that lend themselves toward substance abuse.

An EXTREME "maximum fun NOW, consequences later NEVER" attitude. There seems to be no limits to how far he'll go in the name of chaos, fun, & hedonism, no matter who he hurts, no matter if he hurts himself. He's got that combination of reckless + irresponsible + shortsighted + passively self-destructive.

BIG on partying, which generally means drinks are involved and definitely seems to be the case here based on the time punch. "A party that never ends with a host that never dies"??

"says he's happy, he's a liar." When an emotionally stunted depressed person is in denial about being depressed and trying to convince everyone they're fine, what's a common coping mechanism? Self-medication!

he likes hurting himself. consuming substances in ways that are harmful to him is recreation to him. Yes I am talking about the soda in the eyes, even if it was a loaner body that can't have felt pleasant. The way he seeks out extreme+strange sensations makes me think he'd jump at the chance to try some weird new substance that does some crazy new thing to your head.

loves to socialize, but like... doesn't seem to have close friends. It would make sense for him to be inclined to use drinks/drugs as a social lubricant, both for himself and for his "friends," to help them all overlook the fact that maybe they don't actually really enjoy each other.

he's got a very strained relationship with reality, by which I mean he's actively attempting to murder reality and replace it with fantasy. What's a common method people use to try to escape/avoid reality? Self-medication!! What's one variety of self-medication particularly good at letting you slide into a fantasy world? Hallucinogenics! Which thanks to TBOB we now know he takes!!!

if Bill's reaction to an emotionally close relationship catastrophically falling apart is going on a massive bender, and if Bill's got a long string of exes that fell apart so catastrophically that they're straight up blocking his number, he's denying he ever dated them or ever felt love, and he's claiming that love is merely a pupa for hate... I think there's probably been a lot of benders.

overall he's just... a stressed, cranky, high-strung control freak who wants to give off the image of being so chill and cool and popular and enviable and suuuper happy. I think it'd make sense for him to turn to chemical assistance to bridge the gap between who he really is and who he pretends to be.

[blackenedsnow]

Can you do a one shot of Art The Clown x actress reader?! Like when he sees her he gets all excited like with santa but he doesn't want to hurt her but she's still like 😨😨😨😨😨

silent curtain call

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Art the Clown x Actress! Reader

NOTE: Hi anon! I absolutely loved this idea—it’s so fun. I hope you enjoy and sending all the best vibes your way!

SUMMARY: A late-night encounter at a nearly empty movie set leaves you face-to-face with the infamous Miles County Clown.

The set was dead quiet.

The crew had packed up hours ago, leaving only you and a handful of stragglers tying up loose ends. The horror flick you were starring in had been plagued with delays, and now you were running overtime under dim work lights, trying to wrap the final scene.

As you made your way back to your trailer, exhaustion draped over you like a heavy cloak. The parking lot was nearly deserted, lit by a handful of flickering streetlights. You sighed, unlocking your door and dropping your bag inside when a sound made you pause.

A faint crack.

You froze. It was soft, but it carried through the air, cutting through the silence like a knife.

“Probably some intern messing around,” you muttered under your breath. Still, your heart started to pound.

Turning, you scanned the lot and caught a glimpse of something—or someone—standing just beyond the reach of the nearest streetlight. A figure, tall and unmistakable in black-and-white stripes, tilted its head at you.

The Miles County Clown.

Your stomach dropped, and a shaky laugh escaped your lips.

“Okay, very funny. You almost got me,” you called out, though your voice wavered. “Who put you up to this? Alan? Because I swear—”

The figure stepped forward, revealing more of himself under the dim light. The clown’s pale, corpse-like face and blackened eyes met yours, and he grinned, his sharpened teeth glinting in the light.

This wasn’t a costume.

Your blood turned to ice as the realization slammed into you like a freight train.

That wasn’t someone dressed as Art the Clown.

That was Art the Clown.

Your knees locked, your breath caught in your throat. You’d read the stories, seen the reports. You knew what this thing did to people, and the fact that he was standing there, grinning at you like you were the funniest joke he’d ever heard, made you want to scream.

Art didn’t move for a moment. He just stared, his head bobbing slightly from side to side as if deciding what to do with you. Then, to your horror, he raised a hand and waved.

Like you were old friends.

You forced yourself to take a step back, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“H-hello,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I-I don’t want any trouble, okay?”

Art’s grin widened, and he pulled out his tiny black hat, placing it on his head with exaggerated flair. Then he gave you an overdramatic bow, one hand sweeping out to the side like he was performing on stage.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Look,” you said, your voice trembling, “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I’m not—I’m not gonna bother you, okay? Just… just leave me alone.”

Art straightened up and clapped his hands silently, his shoulders shaking with laughter you couldn’t hear. Then he pointed at you, then at himself, and made a heart shape with his hands.

Oh, God. He wasn’t leaving.

He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed up until your back hit the door of your trailer. Your mind raced, desperately trying to remember everything you’d read about him.

He loved theatrics.

He didn’t speak.

He enjoyed playing with his victims before…

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening.

But… he wasn’t attacking you.

Not yet, at least.

Art’s expression suddenly brightened, like he’d just remembered something. Reaching into his bag, he rummaged around for a moment before pulling out a crumpled flyer—your movie poster. He held it up triumphantly, pointing at your face on the poster and then at you, nodding excitedly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath. He recognized you.

He tapped the poster again, then gave you a thumbs-up, his grin widening to impossibly creepy proportions. He was… a fan?

The absurdity of the situation almost made you laugh, but fear kept you frozen.

“Uh, thanks,” you managed to croak. “That’s… nice of you.”

Art clapped his hands again, silently applauding. Then, without warning, he pointed at your ankle, mimed tripping, and fell flat on his back with an exaggerated thud, his legs kicking in the air.

You blinked. He was… reenacting one of your scenes.

It was so surreal, so bizarre, that for a moment, your fear gave way to utter confusion. “What… what are you doing?”

Art sprang back up like a jack-in-the-box and gave you a smug little shrug, as if to say, What can I say? I’m hilarious.

Despite every instinct screaming at you to run, you found yourself rooted in place, too terrified to move but too intrigued to look away. Art was watching you closely now, his head tilted, his expression almost… expectant.

“Uh, great performance,” you said weakly, hoping to appease him. “Really… uh… really nailed it.”

His grin stretched even wider, and he mimed taking a bow again.

Then he reached into his bag.

You tensed, your breath catching as you braced yourself for whatever horrifying weapon he was about to pull out. But instead, he produced a handful of fake flowers, the kind that squirted water, and held them out to you.

You stared at them, then at him. Your hands shook as you slowly took the flowers, half expecting them to explode or spray acid or something equally horrific. But they didn’t.

“…Thanks?” you said hesitantly.

Art gave you a cheerful nod, then pointed at the poster again, tapping your face and giving you another thumbs-up.

It hit you then—he wasn’t here to hurt you. Not tonight, anyway. He was excited to see you, like a fan meeting their favorite celebrity.

That realization didn’t make him any less terrifying, but it gave you a tiny sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, if you kept playing along, you could get out of this alive.

“Well, it’s been… uh, great meeting you,” you said cautiously, clutching the fake flowers like a lifeline. “But I should probably… you know, get going.”

Art’s grin faltered slightly, and he tilted his head, looking almost disappointed.

“Um… maybe I’ll see you around?” you added quickly, your stomach twisting as the words left your mouth.

He brightened at that, nodding enthusiastically. Then, with one final bow, he turned and skipped off into the darkness, his bag swinging at his side.

You didn’t move until you were sure he was gone. Then you bolted into your trailer, locking the door and sinking to the floor with the flowers still clutched in your hands.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process what had just happened.

You’d just met the Miles County Clown.

And somehow, you were still alive.

[cultlix]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

pair. surfer! chris x felix's soon-to-be wife! fem reader | genre. unrequited love (?), angst, slight smut| warnings. use of pet names, mentions of smoke, allusion to cheating, penetrative/unprotected sex.

synopsis. He's a tidal wave, sudden and unrestrainable, cataclysmic, sweeping away everything getting on its way. "You've never been more human to my eyes than you are right now," you confess.

author's note. learning to surf has always been on my bucket list, as much as being mr. bahng and mr. lee's object of desire. yup! thanks in advance for any form of feedback you'll decide to give to this new story. happy reading, guys!

➽──────────────❥

Chris drives the coast with the windows open and the radio turned off, in solemn contemplation, cradled by the regenerating caress of crisp air and the spellbinding play of lights on the waves crest. Everything around him feels like a promise of reconciliation, a long-awaited second chance. As his thoughts dart fast like the wheels on the asphalt, his heart succumbs to a flicker of hope. Nothing lasts forever.

What's not fated to perdure, always falls apart. That's an incontrovertible truth, a solace. Sandcastles dissolve into the fury of the ocean, unspeakable desires plummet gracefully into the forgiveness of the unknown, of the unresolved, becoming nothing more than spectres of draining obsessions.

It's a gory war the one against them, Chris knows better. So he patiently relies on whatever God is available, merciful, choleric, on weekdays or on holidays, and waits. Waits for an exemplary punishment to accomplish, for this arcane design to spare him from his demons, unslakable, compelling, always shaped on something - or someone - he can't have but he'd kill for, always voraciously aiming for his wandering soul.

But if this agony can help avoiding his entire universe to collapse on itself, he'll gladly greet a request of immolation, mastering the art of camouflaging, of denying, burying secrets and crucifying longings. It won't last forever, and it's a relief. Though sometimes it feels just like a blatant lie he tell himself to stay anchored to his sanity.

He finds you sat on the wooden porch steps, loose braid, white tank top and a pair of worn out jean shorts, a gaze crossing horizon lines and vanishing points, astray, imperscrutable. You wave listlessly in his direction, a cigarette butt still firmly set between your fingers, a form of latent slavery you seem to accept willingly, uglier but less striking than the other you show off on your left hand, a glaring warning, a coveted chain for many.

You walk towards the vehicle and bend down over the passenger window, the strap of your black bra falling off your shoulder. "I'm afraid we'll ride the waves alone today, lone wolf. Felix can't make it," you start off, throwing the cig on the gravelly ground.

Chris nods unsurprised while he connects the dots. Earlier that week, Felix, his undisputed soulmate, the only home he has ever known, suggested him to spend some extra free time with you to strenghten your bond. Chris didn't even know you two had one, until his little brother decided so.

"I'd do anything for her," Felix confessed him, watching you while you were feeding stray cats roaming around his beach cottage.

"I know," Chris answered, passing him a bottle of water after their daily run.

"No, I don't think you really do," he insisted, taking a long sip, asking his body one last effort to take you by surprise with a back hug, making you scream, laugh, turning you around to lock lips and then vanish inside that instant forever.

But Chris looked hard enough to perceive it, to watch it while it put roots in his rotten brain and invaded his heavy heart. He knew all the burdens and the ordeals of selflessness and deep veneration in their most virulent shades, and tolerated them. He knew, and fervently prayed he didn't.

"Surfing without sunshine. Ironic, isn't it?" He hints, staring absentmindedly at the road in front of him.

"Sacrilegious," you add sarcastically, shielding your eyes from the scorching sun, the elegant gem almost cleaving the air with its sharp facetings as you raise your hand, capturing egoistically the morning glow and returning it as countless thunderbolts, forcing Chris to look away, blinded, deafeted by its ruthless splendor.

"You still feel like doin' this, yeah?"

"Why shoudn't I?"

He shrugs, rubbing his nape. "Just thought that's the kind of thing a girl does only with her fiancé."

"Unlike you, I still can survive a day without sunshine," you clarify.

"Better not telling him. He thinks you're such a damsel in distress when he's not around," he warns, vaguely sore by your assertion.

"Yeah, I know. That's the kind of thing a girl does for her fiancé."

Is it really like this, Y/N? Well, it must be. Feeding a man's narcissism, enchanting him with your fatal feminine artifices, meekness, submissiveness, pretending you're his to take, to mold, while you turn his vanity, his naiveness into your trophy. Nasty, brillant little thing. You deserve to be taught a lesson, you deserve an award.

"Seriously, the wind is crazy. We can always reschedule this first lesson if you—"

"Wow, you're really doin' it, aren't you? You tryna back out, lone wolf?"

"No, it's just...it's gonna be tough," he explains dryly.

"Never expected you to go easy on me," you cut him off, getting in the car and pulling your pack of cigarettes out of your shorts pocket, but Chris promptly takes it away from your hands.

"My car, my rules, buttercup," he says with an authoritative stance.

"Fuck Christopher. Why do you even care so much?" you protest, rolling your eyes in a very childish way.

It's rare, unheralded. No silly nickname, no endearing mockery. Christopher. Vowels and consonants coated in honey and insolence, a venomous balm delighting his ears and hurting his pride.

"I've been asking myself the same question a lot lately."

His hand's steady on the gear shift, his jaw clenched. He feels his loins on fire each time you rock your bare upper tigh from side to side, rhythmically, hitting his calloused fingers, turning unbearably itchy, curious to plunge into your luscious flesh, glistening in the warmth of the sun filtering through the windows and inundating the narrow car cabin. He commands himself to regret it the moment he indulges in the mirage of sinking his teeth into every inch of your skin, of healing every deep wound with his mouth, sucking, draining, swept away by an orgiastic dance of blood and mellow nectars.

In the darkness of his unmade bed, enveloped by the hot steam of the pouring shower stream, these fantasies come to inebriate his mind, to take control of his muscles, of his arts, aching, yielding as these visions become vivider, nerve-wrecking, leading him to chase a crumble of inner peace by satisfying their disgraceful nature. He runs his hand over his stiff lenght, his grip firm and tight, emulating your walls, pulsing, contracting, engulfing him, swallowing him in to the hilt, driving him insane with the friction against your slippery crevice. He dreams of pushing himself inside you violently, hurriedly, from behind, nails digging into the softness of your buttocks, your bones hitting his just the way he needs, as a punishment, because he knows he shouldn't have you like this, on your fours, spine breaking under the weight of his quivering body and his guilt, he begs his reason to manifest again soon just to take him back from this mortal rapture, to reveal, or remind him the truth he's desperately trying to elude. You'll never be his. You'll never choose the traitor over the hero. He comes in groans and moans, with the raging force of a torrent, his fluid slipping through his digits because you're not there to contain it, to let it nourish your immaculate womb, and you never will.

"Lone wolf?"

Chris flinches, eyes still glued to the pavement. "Mmh?"

"I know what you're thinking."

No, Y/N, you don't. If you did, you'd see the monster you've made out of me, and you'd be aghast. You'd watch me meandering in the ghost lands this delirium has generated, eager to betray the man I was before this passion ate every shred of my heart, becoming the bastard I am right now, a shadow who bends to your fucking will even if you don't ask to, don't notice it, don't even care.

He clears his throat, tapping nervously his thumb on the steering wheel. "I—"

"I know you think I don't deserve him, but let me show you I do, I will."

He smirks, relieved, resigned.

"Oh buttercup, no one will ever deserve Felix."

"We're gonna get wet anyway," you protest, watching rain falling inesorably from the outdoor shed as Chris applies a layer of wax on your surfboard.

"Typical of beginners," he comments, chuckling, not giving in to your pleas. "Don't you know half of the fascination with this sport is the mental preparation and waiting for the perfect weather?"

"How could I? I'm a beginner," you retort, mocking him and rasing an eyebrow. "Anyway, isn't it the instructor's responsabilty to check the forecast and surf conditions before a session?"

"You can't predict everything, that's what makes surfing hard and rewarding," he elucidates patiently, undressing himself to wear his wetsuit, forcing you to look away.

"I thought in Australia you only knew about rain for movies and songs," you mumble.

Chris smiles fondly. "Considering it's gonna be your new home, I thought you knew more about Australia than what they tell you in movies and songs," he remarks, handing you your rented wetsuit.

"He is gonna be my new home," you state, taking the garment, gazing into his eyes purposely.

He turns around to let you change, hearing the muffled sound of your clothes falling on the ground confusing with the melodious crashing of the waves against the shore, seeing out of the corner of his eye you throwing your bra and your knickers on the only stool present, just over his boxers.

"The only good thing I've ever done in my entire life was protecting Felix, committing myself everyday to make him feel safe. I can't do anything else. It's a mission, a curse. My life revolves around him. And I know you love him, I can feel it, but it's hard to accept how easily he can get along without me. It's not about you, Y/N. But, what will be left to do for me then, if I lose the only thing that still makes me human?"

He's a tidal wave, sudden and unrestrainable, cataclysmic, sweeping away everything getting on its way.

"You've never been more human to my eyes than you are right now," you confess.

He gets closer, the superb gem still there, looking heavier, bigger, more blinding and menacing each time Chris avoids the distance between your exposed back and his covered chest, just enough to inhale sublime notes of lavender when your braid moves on your shoulders. The sillage trails him in a narcotic embrace that lulls his senses, dazing his lucidity, coaxing him to let his guards down, to swim towards the current, the trap, the end.

He brushes his lips gently on your nape, shivers mantling your skin when he places them on your neck, a weary butterfly dying on an autumn leaf.

"Lone wolf..." you say under your breath, paralyzed, afraid.

"What will be left to do for me, if I take the only thing that still makes him human?"

© cultlix, 2024. all rights reserved.

[arvandus]

Ok more thoughts on Dabi’s ending…

Like I’m not even mad about him dying, honestly. I get that his story has always been one riddled in tragedy. I love tragic characters so tragic endings sorta come with the package (still crying over the ending for Loki season 2).

I appreciate, from a literary standpoint, the impact of dying by one’s own rage. Of letting that hurt and anger literally consume you until there’s practically nothing left of you. I see that that is what they were going for with him, and that part is FINE. Sad as fuck, but not shocking, not surprising.

The issue I have with it is the context and overall messaging. The fact that Dabi dies but Endeavor doesn’t; I’m not even saying that Enji needed to die, and he does get permanently injured and has to give up hero work. BUT the fact that Enji, the abuser and the source of so many people’s pain, not only lives but gets to still have the support of at least some of his family (Natsuo, I love you baby!) leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

I think it’s because I’ve never found Enji’s redemption very convincing. I’m not saying this in a “he’s evil and has no soul” sort of way, but it’s more in the fact that his actions have always been rooted in cowardice and ego. The fact that Enji gives up being a hero because he got injured in battle rather than giving up being a hero willingly because it was the very thing that made him so toxic and awful to begin with… meh. Not to mention he still had his son face off with his other son instead of confronting him directly. He still dilly dallied and never went searching for Touya after their initial conflict and reveal even though Shouto wanted to. That’s what I mean when I say Enji’s redemption was half-assed. He was too much of a coward and too focused on being a hero to the masses instead of being a father to his children and that never changed for him. So did he realize what he did in the past was wrong? Yes. Did he feel bad about it? Sure. Did he take the appropriate steps to right past wrongs? No. No he fucking didn’t. Too little, too late.

But it’s not just about Enji. It’s also the hopelessness that’s communicated by Shouto failing to save his brother and never have soba with him in the end. And it’s a message of hopelessness that’s communicated with Toga and Shigaraki’s deaths as well. I don’t know if they we’re going for a “loss of innocence/you can’t save everyone” sort of vibe as a part of the student characters growing up into adults, but it still just made it all feel sort of… pointless in the end. And that pointlessness was emphasized even more by how unmoved they all seemed to be in the aftermath/ending of the story. Not really much mourning, not really much regret. Add to that that the overall status quo seems to be maintained, and really it feels as if nothing has changed; nothing has gotten better (even though supposedly it has??).

I dunno. Take what I say with a grain of salt cuz I haven’t read the ending and I’ve gotten the info from tumblr screenshots. But I’m tired and don’t have it in me to pick it back up again. If the characters are going to die, that’s fine, but make it meaningful, make it worth it, make it cataclysmic in the ushering in of a better world. Give me systems of support within the society to help people in need, people with dangerous quirks. Give me a dismantling of the popularity aspect of heroism, because a system built on the monetization and entertainment cannot also be a moral system. Show me how you’re addressing the toxicity of hero worship, how you’re dismantling the pedestals so that quirkless children aren’t bullied and heroes aren’t driven to madness in the fight to the top.

If you can’t give me those things, then what’s the point. It’s just more of the same. Your story gave us nothing.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Any of these lovely edgelords have dorky hobbies? Please? I hope they do? At least Kinger

LMFAO "LOVELY EDGELORDS" STOPPPPPPP

Pomni - When her brain stops being "RAAAAAAAAAA FIGHT SOMETHING RAAAAAAAAAAAAA" all the damn time, she eventually gets into puzzle-solving that gets her noggin a thinking. Sometimes, when she's outside, she'll try to balance some rocks. Chances are, if you see a randomly stacked pile somewhere in the city, that's her doing.

Caine - revisits old projects when he's in the mood, not reading, not shitfaced drunk or dealing with everyone. As the story progresses on and his relationship with Pomni develops, he gifts her some small handmade Mechanical Wonders. He doesn't know if she keeps them, but you know.

Ragatha - I've mentioned she likes to listen to vinyls and it's why she regularly goes to Caine for new ones to listen to, yeah? Well, she also likes to sew if she's not drinking tea, sensing charms or trying to clean artifacts. She's trying to master all sewing techniques.

Jax - Tries doing trick shots with whatever object he comes across with that don't even land 90% of the time. When he does do it successfully, he celebrates like he won a gold medal and praises himself so much. He also does that "highest leap" thing on every fucking doorway, chandeliers and stairways, though no one really understands it. Kaufmo joins in on this once he's added to the team and both of them start to compete who's got the highest jumps. They'll also compete with who can reach Gangle.

Gangle - Writes about everyone in fictitious, often time exaggerated settings and scenarios. She also has the tendency to "parrot" sentences (unintentionally), trying to mimic the voices (but immediately apologize when pointed out). She'll pop in front of anyone randomly, give them a sketch study, and then leave without uttering a single word, too shy to conversate even the slightest bit. Caine is the often victim of this because he's the one who gives her drawings praise the most.

Kingr - If not challenging every puppet on the block to a strategic board game match? Classic bug watching. He'll follow the insect as much as possible before moving on and pondering about the lives of the bugs. He likes to watch ants the most. When Quinnie officially arrives, he feels the need to share his discoveries with her. He also likes to tackle a little bit with calligraphy.

Z - I've already mentioned sculpting before, but it's not just big ones they make. Z would actually try to make miniature sculptures to give themselves a challenge. They also like to meditate, but the others can't sit still for very long and would sometimes get into arguments, leaving Z to abandon the session and try to reach a middle ground with them on what exactly they want to do (if they're willing to negotiate that is)

They're still on the process of discovering what exactly they like as a hobby, but food art seems to be on top of the list.

[itsbeenliketenyearsitsprettywild]

on tag responses and reply trains or: "click the readmore for my analysis of the the (mostly) Greek love terms that sum up jayvik and jaymel and also at some point i forget how to shut the fuck up and turn this into what might as well be a thesis paper on jaymel as a duo and How Mel Is Dedicated To Jayce Her Own Way"

starting from op @aurieeeeeenyx's tags that got me thinking:

#you mightve guessed that ive been listening to the hadestown soundtrack again recently#but anyways. jayce going back over and over and failing in timeline after timeline in the hopes that maybe this time. maybe just this once#he'll succeed and get his partner back#viktor putting the whole of his faith and trust in jayce that jayce will come back for him even though he fails again and again#but still viktor cannot imagine not believing in jayce one more time#the way the entire universe hangs in the balance of their bond oh man#i feel like jayvik is beyond categorization they're like the peak of classical romance which is not necessarily kisses and dating etc#but like the purest form of intimacy and affection. or something#i should write a fic abt this#anyways . idk . im a big fan of meljayvik so mel fits in here SOMEWHERE i just havent figured it out yet#if you made it to the bottom of this wall of tags here's a pie 🥧

(the last tag isn't exactly relevant, but hey. free pie 🥧) my response in the replies (with a few spelling edits):

moreso than calling what Jayce and Viktor have 'classical romance' (as such a phrase feel like it could be confused with the Romantic movement in the arts, which doesn't have much to do with love directly), I feel like it would almost be more accurate to describe it using the ancient (and a just few more modern) Greek terms for love. They already exist as a way to delineate the many types of love that can exist either combined or singular that can be part of a relationship between two people. (there's like eight or nine different Greek/Greek-derived words to categorize love at this point depending on who you ask, feel free to look 'em up yourself - there are six ancient Greek ones in there too. the Greeks have been dissecting love for a *very* long time) Of the types of love exhibited between Jayce and Viktor specifically, I think what you're getting at is that it's a bond which involves this incredibly beautiful blend of philia and agape, with a bit of mutual meraki as well. In actual English - their bond is made of deep personal affection on a mental/personality level (philia literally translates to 'soul connection') which isn't hurt by their shared love of creating/inventing new technology together. All of this being further boosted by the fact that they would anything for each other, even if it means damning themselves or other reallities in the process. I'd love to go into meljay as contrast, in large part because their relationship feels pretty unique in terms of what we see in media, but there's only so many characters allowed in a reply lol. feel free to ping me if you want me to put the rest of the deets on this or another post, though (and clarify you want it on a reblog instead of a reply if that's the case, as i default to replies otherwise)!

op's reply:

actually it's funny you say this because the romantic movement in the arts is pretty much what i had in mind just because of the like...aesthetic? i feel like it comes with a certain mood of sublime beauty and some mix of nature/humanity/passion/nostalgia while being both subdued and Not, which the jayvik finale sort of embodies to me if that makes sense (but then again i'm not an art connoisseur so i could be spouting total bullshit) i do agree with your analysis of their bond in the framework of greek terms for love and think that funnily enough it goes back to the orpheus and eurydice thing again (arcane when i come for you and your greek tragedies WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU--) sooo i guess i'll have to do some more research on that and i'd love to hear about your thoughts on meljay! if you feel comfortable i think a reblog might help more people see it (in which case you might need to put my notes and/or your comment as context to this admittedly very short post) but i don't mind either way :D

And, since the notes and comments have been placed, time to continue (I've been using this website for reference and been extrapolating best i can, but I'm no expert on the subject so feel free to correct me on it)

I honestly find JayMel really interesting to analyze from this perspective, because I feel like media doesn't show many relationships with this unique blend of loves, and especially not presented in a way where it's actually given some weight and value to both people within it. So, to start:

This list is very, very long, so let me this for the sake of everyone's sanity...

TL; DR - While Jaymel absolutely involves sexual attraction between the two of them (and is sometimes connected to these more casual, playful moments between the duo), those aren't nearly all the facets of their love. Some of the other types include: how they both enjoy working on Hextech (from the angles of technology and politics respectively), even if they sometimes have to make deals and do things with it they personally don't like; the surprisingly tentative yet compelling nature of their friendship together; the practical ways they (read; mostly Mel) are willing to help and support each other on a much more functional level, and how that in turn plays a very large part in letting them further emotionally connect with one another and deepen their bonds as people.

First (and most obviously), Mel and Jayce's dynamic obviously has a fair amount of eros in it. Eros can best be described as 'sexual love' or 'physical desire for each other' - the kind of love most people (largely allosexuals) assume are a part of "romantic" relationships by default, though one doesn't have to be a couple to act upon mutual eros. Either way, it's absolutely a part of their dynamic that deserves to mentioned and recognized - pretty sure none of us are going to forget the Sextech scene any time soon, and all. But that's only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to their dynamic.

In a fair few scenes where eros between them is evident, there's also pretty obviously some ludus going on. Ludus is one of the more modern categorizations love types, and describes 'playful love' - something more casual or carefree, no strings inherently attached, but a noted expression of affection all the same. You know that forge scene in season 1, where Mel sarcastically calls Jayce's smithing 'a delicate art' and she watches him sexily hammer out some metal, or at the end of that same scene, where she leans into him seductively... only to smack him in the tiddies with his own forge bolt and adds the one-liner, "Hold onto your nuts?" That absolutely reads as ludus following up on the eros within their dynamic. After all, ludus is the kind of love found in booty calls and one night stands, but could also just be enjoying a night out drinking with your pals. Which makes jaymel really interesting, considering the fact that it's also steeped in the opposite type of love....

....Which, in all honestly, I feel like I'll only be able to talk about once I've described meraki. You see, this and the next type of love seem pretty deeply entwined with one another when it comes to my categorizing and understanding of jaymel, but it feels like this is the one best needed to help describe the context of the other. Now, meraki one of the terms coined after the ancient Greeks, being a modern word that most people who don't speak Greek down know about. Essentially (and i could be wrong about the best term to use - but honestly i legitimately feel like this a type of love that shapes them, and don't know a better word to use), meraki is the love of creation, the love one pours into the act of making art or writing poetry or skillfully setting a table - or, best as i can sum all that up, a love of your work/what you do. And, lest we forget, the thing that brought them (alongside Viktor, though he's not the focus of this post) together is... well, Hextech. It's just that the work Jayce and Mel happen to be doing in relation to creating Hextech happen to be quite different in nature. Nonetheless they're both quite necessary for its creation to come to fruition. For Jayce, this 'love of creation' he has for hextech is quite literal - he's one of the two geniuses who invents, designs and very directly builds machines and technology that utilize Hextech within them, and it's obviously from the get go that he loves the idea of it so much that he dedicated his life to it (something something what that means in terms of what he said in the finale-). Mel, meanwhile, also loves Hextech and how she goes about creating it - but, in her case, she creates far less literally than how Jayce and Viktor do, though still plenty important. Because, for all the boys physically create the technology, it wouldn't be able to have nearly as much of an impact as it does if there wasn't someone politically advocating for its use and working for it to become societally integral. For all Viktor and Jayce may love making their gadgets and gizmos that utilize it, she's the one who loves it enough to build it up as A Brand and help get Jayce into top enough form that Hextech can even have its own seat on the council (no matter how much she regrets that decision almost immediately afterwards. But, it's this difference in terms of how they precisely they go about creating Hextech that can lead to a divide in how much they enjoy particular parts of shaping that leads to struggle in staying dedicated to specific parts of the process, which really comes down to their comfort with....

Pragma, or 'practical/dedicated love'. Pragma is the final love term coined after the time of Ancient Greece, and essentially acts as the complete opposite of ludus. While ludus is all about fun and in-the-moment playfulness, pragma is the love shown by doing what needs to be done to keep things functional, even if said actions are not particularly fun or enjoyable themselves. It's not the same thing as agape/'sacrificial' love, because it's not a case of being willing to throw everything just to keep this one person happy. These things are being done because they have to be done to make sure everything stays okay, not because the thing they love comes before absolutely anything else. Though it might seem boring (or maybe even selfish, if you compare it to agape in particular), it's a huge part of all kinds of relationships you can find between people, and says as much about nature of a dynamic as anything else. But, as stated, this type of love between Jayce and Mel is seen very specifically when it comes to their mutual love for Hextech and less directly for each other. In making Hextech and allowing it to flourish as a technology, steps have to be taken to ensure sponsors and investments, so that they never lose access to the resources required to continue working on it. As such, deals have to be cut and made, as seen in the concert scene, and continuing to make sure Jayce and Viktor's projects are properly funded is something they have to do over and over again just to keep things moving. In this sense, the main difference between the two of them in this context is the nuance of their meraki - for all they both enjoy creating Hextech in some way, the types of work they enjoy dedicating themselves to contrast quite a bit. For Jayce, politics and lobbying for funding are only a small part of what he does for Hextech - and not what he gravitate towards naturally, charismatic as he can be. To him, his love of is for the literal process - the one that Viktor both enjoy creating as a team moreso than they'll ever enjoy doing it alone. Meanwhile politicking and dedication to Hextech's social and financial success (which is where a lot of the pragma comes to the forefront) is what Mel enjoys doing - alone if necessary, but preferably with one of the creators of Hextech at her side, to have another hand on deck and a more direct face to associate with it. As such, it *does* make its own kind of sense that the duo (jayvik) whose meraki is almost identical have an time easier time bonding personality-wise (tho i do think Mel and Vik would have an easier time of it- *shoves my melvik-in-the-polycule headcanons in a box for later*), in comparison to the fascinatingly tentative nature of Jayce and Mel's....

Philia, or 'soul connection'. For all it sounds like a term for soulmates or such, what it really just means is that two people get along well with each other when it comes to general socializing and interaction. This is the type of love that underpins deep friendships, but also romantic couples that go beyond just being sexually compatible (or queerplatonic couples - sadly, the terms for love never developed in such a way to make it *easy* to differentiate aspec couples from other kinds of dynamics, but we work with what we got), or even just coworker who get along pretty well. And it's here in particular that I find jaymel compelling as we see them in the show, because, for all we see them work together well on Hextech and be playful with each other and Do The Fuck, their philia seems... surprisingly awkward, or at least not nearly as natural as it is for jayvik (or how i headcanon it would be for melvik). To be clear: you're allowed to headcanon jaymel as more naturally friendly than this, like how many people like to extrapolate jayvik out to include some level of eros (which, once again, not disparaging, just noting as not being shown in Arcane directly). But in terms of what we actually see in the show... jaymel has a bit of a hard time with getting close on an emotional level. Which i honestly really appreciate; the show doesn't invalidate the love that is there simply due to this fact, after all. All the other parts of their relationship exist and are recognized in the narrative while still letting the philia between them not come as naturally as everything else. People's personalities may end up with them clashing fairly often, but they can still be close anyways. (well, as long as they work at it - but I'll segue into that subcategory in a little bit.) And because of this, they're able to take a very fun option: showing some of these moments of tension or awkwardness between them, and letting us as the audience watch how the two navigate and end up resolving these moments. Though some of these moments do end up getting interrupted by a third party, which can end up impacting how these moments of tension end up getting resolved. (I'm looking at you, Viktor, for how you interrupted that moment between jaymel and instigated the season 2 council room fight. go to ur eldritch jesus shame corner /lh/j) Speaking of reaction: Mel and Jayce each have distinct ways of expressing emotional distress (at least most of the time - Mel lets herself get a lot more angry with her mother than she would otherwise). For Jayce, his reactions are what he's infamous for in fandom - impulsively jumping into action based on his current feelings without considering what consequences. (read: almost always not what he wanted.) Meanwhile, Mel tends to withdraw into herself and act more emotionally unaffected than she actually is - for example, how her reaction to Jayce leaving in the middle of the night after Sextech is to... well, paint, and respond relatively neutrally up until Jayce justifies his actions. But it's in resolving of these conflicts that the two of them are able to start building up their philia and comfort with each other (beyond their mutual focus on hextech or sex) into a deeper level of companionship. The reason why their philia is able to end up further developing is due to the active usage of...

Pragma, not within the framework of Hextech. You see, Hextech-focused pragma can quite often lead to added tension between them instead of anything getting resolved, as seen when Mel gets Jayce voted onto the council without asking him first. In comparison, many of the moments of pragma between them that aren't focused on Hextech itself often lead to to bonding moments between the two of them as individuals. (Which makes sense as talking about work, even if you like doing it, doesn't tend to lead to much personal emotional intimacy.) Alongside that, there's one other thing that differentiates these moments of pragma from those focused on Hextech directly: in those situations where willingly taking action leads to them getting closer, it's almost always Mel who takes the initiative. For Jayce, the vulnerability he shows to her is never from a place of willingly dropped guard or conscious intent, but instead due to being absolutely overwhelmed by his emotions. As such, it's Mel who consistently dedicates herself to their relationship by reacting in ways that only really serve to benefit or support Jayce, such as: -> accepting her suddenly-given role as emotional after the discovery Viktor is dying -> voting Heimerdinger out of the council on Jayce's inferred behest -> comforting Jayce over said vote that he pushed through -> stalling while he's supposed to be leading the council so he has time to find Viktor -> implicitly supporting Jayce's decision to bring Viktor back from at least the brink of death, if not death itself, at the beginning of season 2 Even past the ones I listed, there's so many moments Mel has which speak to her own brand of love for Jayce, especially in season 1. Times where she very much chooses to act in favor of his interests, even though it in no way benefits her, can be readily pointed to as cases of pragma. For all they might not be big and noticeable, they help keep the dynamic functional and healthy. Though, that's not to say Jayce doesn't have a moment of pragma outside of working on Hextech. Though, unless I'm missing something, it is just. A singular moment for him. Which is after his implicit apology for the argument the two had in the council room before the Viktor fight in season 2. After the apology, Mel goes on to open up to him about how she unlocked her abilities as a mage, that he comforts her by saying that Mel could never be just a passenger in her body - this is a moment that, while it does nothing to help him personally, still speaks to him caring about Mel. But... that's pretty much we only case we have of him directly engaging in pragma in relation to Mel. (...But then again, we see a lot of him and his active cases of pragma in those situations in season 1 focused on Hextech in particular, so in that regard it evens out if you consider pragma a whole without those specific contexts in mind. But I digress.)

There's potentially one other type of love i was tempted to add to all this, but this post has gotten very, very long, so i think I leave it here. If you somehow got this far down: holy shit what the fuck (impressed). For the sake of the sane people. I think I'll be putting my TL;DR at the top of the list.

oh yeah also jayvik are extremely orpheus and eurydice coded i don't make the rules

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

part ii (part i)

“Caden, prior to this competition I would have taken one look at you, then dismissed you. And I would have been wrong. I was never expecting you to be this good natured, easy going and simply likeable, and even Araminta conceded that you have ‘far superior manners’ than what you demonstrated during your introduction. Don’t pack your bags just yet - unless it’s to join me in Round Two. Oh, and for future reference, I like a good Malbec.”

“Struan, a couple of times I took your shyness for disinterest or playing games, and that was on me. But you’ve more than proven me wrong. I’ve never tried ginger before, and now I find myself quite partial to it. Sorry - I don’t know who in the writer’s room comes up with this shit. In short, I like you and I want to keep you. You are thoroughly genuine and unpretentious - see you next round.”

“Sage - you are an absolutely atrocious thief, but fortunately you have a better chance of stealing my heart. Uh, much like The Swings of Power, I wouldn’t be surprised if the script for this was actually written by AI - so I’ll skip the rest of it. You’re fun with just the right amount of quirkiness, and you’re also coming with me to the next round. I’ll be looking to see if we can build on what we have.”

“Briar, we have the beginnings of a beautiful friendship, but I’ve yet to see whether it could ever be anything other than that. You reacted favourably to my flirts, but you never once returned them. Still, I get that some of us need a little more preheating than others, and I definitely want more time with you. I look forward to seeing you next round.”

“Cassie, you had a lot of initial bad impressions to overcome, and while others have scored higher, I think that you’ve done well considering. You show more gumption and readiness with the farm work than I was expecting, and I want to see if you have even more surprises in store. While I can’t guarantee that you won’t be rostered yet again on cooking, I can tell you that you’re not heading home just yet. Sorry babe, but it will be a while before we end up anywhere you can get a decent latte or manicure.”

“Giovanna, you seem to have a slow-burn approach to romance that obviously isn’t well suited towards all of this, and while I’ve struggled to get a read on you, I feel as though I have enough to go on to give you what more time I can - for now. I get that not everyone is as… tactile as me, so if you’re feeling it, just give me some indication in whatever way is most comfortable to you during the next round.”

how scores were calculated

And our upper-mid to lower-mid scores are here. While I take a "the points are law" approach to this, not everything can be conveyed through them and so I chose to reflect this in Lilac's remarks.

Those who have a contestant in the bottom six, be forewarned that Lilac wants to light a fire under some of their butts and what she says to those who remain may be quite blunt - but the Watcher loves everyone in this bar.

@mdshh @lindyloosims @panicsimss

@jonquilyst @bakersimmer @ravingsockmonkey

[numptypylon]

For the time skip ask:

To eachother: "what's the weirdest food you've eaten?"

This vaguely follows the last drabble in the series, but it's not at all required reading. And this is MUCH fluffier <3

“We… need a less depressing question next.” Rayla wiped her eyes, and it stuck this time. She didn’t draw away though, just settled to get more comfortable in his lap, carefully adjusting to rest her head under his chin without her horns stabbing him in the neck. “So… what was the weirdest food you ate, since I saw you last? You said you went to Evenere for a diplomatic visit, and to Duren and all sorts of places?”

“Yeah, I did,” Callum said. “But the food there wasn’t that weird except for the snails.”

“Snails?! Yeah, that’s super weird. I didn’t even eat snails, and I ate lichen at some point, it was not for lack of desperation.” She paused. “I guess I answered the question too and it’s more sad than weird, it was lichen, for me. One out of five stars; do not recommend, will not elaborate. Anyway, going back to you… who eats snails?”

“The Evenerian nobility. Apparently. Even they don’t eat them for breakfast though, that was just me.”

“Callum, why…”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! You’ve seen the situations I accidentally get myself into, we know this about me!”

Her laughter vibrated against his chest.

“I’d been to Duren already, by then,” he continued. He had some explanation, after all. “And in Duren they have a kind of whirly bun with cinnamon that they call a snail, but of course it’s not really a snail, it’s just dough that’s shaped like a snail, and those were really good, so I ordered them when I saw snails on the menu during a diplomatic outing in Evenere… a casual meeting of minds with select Evenerian courtiers before an all-day political gathering.” He dreaded to think what they had thought of his mind after that. Probably that he was out of it. “And you know, I just met these people and I didn’t want to offend their country’s food by insinuating it was weird even though it was.”

“So you just sat there and ate snails for breakfast out of sheer awkwardness?” she giggled. “That… sounds like you.”

“I did. I ate the snails in garlic butter. At 7am. With hot chocolate as my drink accompaniment of choice.”

“That’s kinda a power move, if you pulled it off with confidence.”

“I did not.”

“Hey, maybe you looked cooler than you think?”

“I catapulted a buttery snail onto the window of the establishment with my fork, trying to get it out of its shell.”

“And maybe you looked good doing it? You have a way with breakfast foods, you know? I hold firm that those hairy butt fruits you love are also super weird, and back at the inn, you made eating those look just… so good. I’m sure those diplomats were also barely containing their desire for you.”

“Also, huh?”

“Mmmhmm. Also.” She shifted just so. “Then. Now. Always-”

“Rayla?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m done with questions.”

They're not really done with questions, they just need a makeout break XD Cinnamon rolls are called snails in Denmark, which inspired this I'll be back with more of these drabbles, hopefully in a few days.

If you want backstory for the inn breakfast referenced in this, that is Downtime’s Up inn chapter (all chapters of this fic are oneshots)

[prongsandpetals]

no one asked for this but i’m saying it anyway because i am tired of this grandpa.

i dont hate jegulus or their shippers. personally, it doesnt make sense to me and my moral compass trickles into fiction meaning i dont have much interest in any of the slytherins. it could also be the fact that when people would create oc’s for james in their fics 10 yrs ago and made lily a raging bitch id be fighting them all in the comments- a fight or flight response that now has spread to jegulus- but thats neither here nor there. it brings people joy and they are fictional characters, and it doesnt physically hurt anyone!

but there is something to be said about some of the less savoury implications it has had on the fandom. it feels as though jily is in its own subfandom sort of pushed to the side, leaving two mlm ships to dominate. unfortunately a lottt of female characters have been forgotten or pushed aside because of this. a lot of people who joined the fandom not that long ago either dont know or forget that this fandom was not built on either wolfstar (who i love), or jegulus. yes, they popularised them, but this fandom has revolved around jily for over 10 years. not to mention many of these fics were written from lilys pov, meaning there was so much more depth put into the girls characters. to erase this is to erase the fandoms history.

the diversifying of characters is something amazing that has come more recently with the popularisation of the fandom and thats one of the good parts!! however if someone still views aaron taylor johnson as their james, that doesn’t make them a racist - the man has been james since at least 2006.

another (smaller) thing ive seen is someone will post a song or a photo and attribute it to a jily moment with harry that we can realistically see happening canonically and a comment will say something along the lines of: “this but its how james felt when regulus (insert something that did not happen here)” idk if its the autism but god those always get me a little bit, especially when it includes harry.

similarly, it feels as though people who ship jily are assumed to be less progressive. as a lesbian jily shipper i can’t disagree more. just because a ship is a straight ship does not make it a bad ship - i think we can all agree there are so many amazing LGBTQ+ ships out there now for everyone to enjoy. it does feel quite strange to me to place the two characters who created the child that there are seven books about into different ships, but people like them so its chill!! but when its just complete eradication or discontent with the canon ship… ;(

i also think that to have jegulus be endgame (except aus), a lot of james’s insanely important character traits literally HAVE to be erased. his hatred for death eaters and fight for justice, his unending loyalty to his friends - especially sirius- his black and white view on right and wrong, all of these traits become warped and stretched when it comes to jegulus. of course there isnt much canon to go off of so when people disregard it entirely i can understand it to a degree. but when you erase the important canon points we have on their characters, we are basically just creating oc’s with real characters names.

another thing that i find irksome is the fetishisation of these mlm ships- if youre gonna ship two men together do it right!! why are you calling regulus a cute little baby victim and james a big strong protector!! let them be complex and messy or dont do it at all! not to mention the erasure of a lot of wlw ships... lowkey gives girl who has gay boy best friend that thinks lesbians are weird… anyways off topic! ive heard people say its not fetishisation, its because the female characters arent written with depth- that’s why people read jegulus and wolfstar! okay? go give the girls some depth? regulus is a character we basically know nothing about canonically and youve turned him into a fully fleshed character who is now a lot of peoples favourite - it can be done with the girls too. there is such emphasis placed on wolfstar and jegulus for their deep, tragic love stories - and the marauders friendship in general. the gryffindor girls are right there. dorlene is right there. marylene is right there.

and if it truly werent fetishisation, i would argue that it can be a romanticisation of toxic relationships. a lot of people dislike jily because there is no “angst”. the angst is fighting in a war at 21 years old. the angst is lily and james’s differing blood statuses and the implications this has on their lives. the angst is having a prophecy hanging over their unborn child’s head that forces them into hiding. the angst is being betrayed by their best friend, leading them to sacrifice themselves for their family and the wizarding world. the angst is literally right there, but because their relationship is healthy and happy- one of the only things in their lives that is not full of pain- they are deemed boring.

again, i dont hate jegulus. i especially dont dislike anyone who likes the ship and gets something out of it. but there is so much change this fandom has gone through since their introduction and popularisation that has made interacting with the fandom as a whole almost unbearable sometimes, and thats what i do hate.

all in all, multishippers definitely have the most fun.