#i enjoy putting them in situations of the silly variety

[rystiel]

well… that explains why his teachers expected him to be able to read those meaningless blobs they’d always be writing on the board #safedriver

[coyotelip]

wolfstar microfic: spell || nsfw but not explicit || wolfstar raising harry pt.3 || @wolfstarmicrofic || wc: 721 || all parts on ao3

"Oh, how I've missed you.”

Sirius whispers against Remus's lips, enjoying the weight of him on top of him and reveling in the feel of man inside him. 

“You see me literally everyday.” Remus laughs softly and moves slowly, searching for a comfortable pace. 

“Oh, silly, you know it's different,” the man doesn't hold back any longer and crashes into his husband's lips with a hot kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding him as close as he can. 

In their high school days, Sirius wanted drive, variety, and brute force, so he can't remember how many times they had sex in unexpected places and on unexpected surfaces. But now? All he wanted was to have as much of Remus's skin on him as possible, to touch him in all places at once, so their sex began to be more like a very tight hug with minimal movement. And both of them would have been happy as hell if this sex hadn't been reduced to a couple of times a month due to work and a small child on their plates. 

Don't get it wrong, they adored Harry, but they adored each other just as much and still had that desire to be together at any possible moment, even after several years of a peaceful home life. 

Speaking of Harry…

“Paaaads, Pads?” comes the boy's excited voice from the doorway, followed by a soft knock on the wood. 

Sirius's moan, which he rightfully couldn't help but let out when such a charming man was pinning him to the bed, turns into a soft “Shit.” 

Remus stiffens over him, making him want to whimper like a dog, and looks him straight in the eye, not with the look of an eager lover, but rather with his practiced expression of a strict professor, “You forgot to cast the silencing spell, didn't you?” 

“I swear to you, I did...” perhaps he doesn't even remember if he did. But the conversation is interrupted by another knock and a louder shout from Harry at their door. 

“You're going to do it.” Remus says clearly and pushes himself up on his elbows, leaving Sirius lying there alone, unsatisfied and feeling the prickly cold of the whole situation. 

“No, it's your turn!” Sirius tries to argue, after all, he was the one who had dealt with the child's emergencies the last few times. However, Remus's look is as clear as ever and lets him know that if he screwed up, it's his to clean up. 

The knocking on the door is getting longer and louder, and Harry's voice makes him afraid that he will burst into tears if he doesn't see his godfather. So the man wheezes out of bed and throws on his bathrobe, heading for the door. 

Harry instantly looks up at him, his eyes already covered with a layer of unshed tears from worry, and how bad Sirius feels about it. He picks the boy up to sit on his hip, “What's wrong, my dear lion?” 

“I just heard...” the boy rubs his eye with his fist, wiping the excess moisture from his eyelids. “I heard you were hurt and wanted to help.” 

Oh, this innocent child. Sirius gently runs his thumb over Harry's chubby cheek, “Hahaha, no, we were just practicing a really cool spell with Moony.” Sirius smiles broadly, trying to show the boy that he is absolutely fine. 

“Then why did you whimper like you hit your pinky on a chair?” 

“Mmm.” Sirius purses his lips, thinking of something to say. “Because it's still an unfinished spell. It has side effects... but we're working on it! You know Moony's talented and smart, so it'll be fine soon. And you need to go to bed now,” the man had just crossed the threshold of the nursery at the other end of the hallway to put the boy to bed. 

Harry's gaze finally lost its worried look and took on a tired expression as he looked at the man, “What kind of spell is it?” 

“Oh, we can't talk about it yet, because it's incomplete and secret,” he covered the boy with a blanket and tucked the edges in. “But one day I will tell you,” Sirius kissed the child gently on the forehead and left him to fall back to sleep. 

[artisticdysfunction]

A Daydreamer's Guide to Willomancy

Since we've never seen any guides for this that isn't connected to paromancy, we figured that hey! Maybe we should be the first that we know of! Especially after being encouraged by a system server we're in.

So, specifically for how we do it, it's heavily based in daydreams. So I'm sorry if you have aphantasia or otherwise can't daydream, this guide won't be helpful to you. But hopefully this may encourage others to write their own guides based on their own methods!

Firstly! An appearance has got to be constructed! As specific as you need in order to have a really good idea of what they would look like in situations. Sometimes we use the appearance of fictional characters as a base, or picrews and such in headmate packs. I'm not gonna assume species, but essentially you'll want to create something within your mind that you can puppet around.

We also insert traits at around this time. Like, imagining us lifting up the face or opening up the chest to insert specific traits that we want into our headmate. Other traits will come with time, but this is what we go in terms of the base. Like a baby soul!

Once you're successful, you'll have a headmate! Kinda. They're probably not sentient yet. However you probably can puppet them around like they can think! And that's essentially what we're gonna do next.

Imagine them in various daydreams in as many situations as possible. Don't be afraid to go light, or dark, or silly, or serious! We find that as much variety as we can helps. And this is generally the longest step.

Essentially, puppet them around until you start to feel any sort of feeling or opinion in that headmate. It may be as simple as "No." in response to what you're trying to puppet them to do in that moment, or them in a daydream situation stating "I like the blue one." and such. You want to encourage these responses as much as you can. Talk to them! Puppet them how they want.

Their responses will grow, until eventually the daydreams are a collaborative project! With them equally contributing. And with this, comes the last step.

Confidence building.

Although more experienced in the innerworld, they may feel akin to a newborn baby deer in the outterworld. And so, they may need to be pushed some. Put them in control in social situations you know are safe, such as making them talk in safe discord servers. And you play an important role in this too! You gotta be both their cheerleader, and advisor. Encouraging them to talk, and giving them ideas on what to talk about. If they don't know how to respond to a person, give them your advice and let them make their choice. After a bit of time, they'll feel more stable and confident in the outterworld too.

And then, there you have it! A headmate that has been created, willed into existence. A headmate who is seperate to you and is also equal to you. Hope you enjoy your new pal! And, feel free to send us questions either on this post or via our inbox.

[avocado-writing]

Now I’m not saying ‘sexytime roleplay where aristo princeling Aziraphale has to somehow persuade reader/Crowley/both to help smuggle him across the border’ but…

Basically, Aziraphale in his 1793 outfit, being sensually undressed, and seducing his partner(s) while getting humiliated a little? If you feel like it ofc, your writing gives me life !

notes: once again absolute smut. this outfit drives me insane. costume designers you know what you did. thank you to my friend M who pretty much wrote the lil Crowley monologue at the start of this fic, couldn't have done this without you!

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley

rating: E, minors dni

words: 2.2k

tags: roleplay (humiliation; degradation; dirty talk; dubcon); aftercare; TLTDATSIB-verse

Overall, when you think about this situation, there are two things that you’re quite certain of.

The first one is this: Aziraphale likes to be rescued. It’s why he’s always getting himself in silly little situations. Usually it’s Crowley that has to do the actual rescuing, given that he’s a demon with otherworldly powers and all, but you’ve been known to distract a guard or lift a key. Bust down a wall with a battering ram. Helpful little things like that. 

In the aftermath Aziraphale is always very pleased and finds ways to make it up to you both later, so there’s never any complaining. 

The second thing you know is that after all these years you can still discover things about yourselves and about each other. It’s always lovely to start a sentence with, ‘oh, I didn’t know that…!” You find new little ways to fall in love with them over and over again.

You’ve just made the tea, and put Aziraphale’s down on the desk next to him. He thanks you the usual way but doesn’t look up from the book in his hands, so when he reaches over to pick it up he instead knocks the mug over and spills the hot liquid all over his lap.

“Aziraphale!”

His head snaps up. He’s barely aware of the situation at all. You imagine his corporeal form isn’t hurt by little things like these, but your natural reaction is to worry; get a little bit panicked.

“What are you doing? You need to watch out! You could really hurt yourself if you’re not paying attention, don’t be so silly!”

Aziraphale is looking at you, but he seems to have gone a bit glossy-eyed as you dress him down. Mouth agape a little. You know this look.

This is how he looks when he’s turned on.

“Aziraphale?”

“Hmm? Sorry, yes darling, I’ll be more careful,” he mutters, miracling the spill away. Across the shop floor you lock eyes with Crowley. Yes. He noticed that too. 

The two of you silently agree to address this with him later. So, that night, with a couple of bottles of merlot between you, Crowley turns to your husband and says, as easily as if he’s discussing the weather:

“So, angel, it seems you really enjoyed being told off earlier.”

Aziraphale chokes on his wine. Ah. Got him. 

“It’s alright if it’s true,” you tell him, running a hand up his leg. “You just need to say.”

“I… I…”

“It occurs to me,” Crowley begins, sitting back in his seat as if he’s about to say something very astute, “that when you get captured, it can’t all be for our benefit. Maybe you enjoy it before we even get there to carry out a daring escape. You like being somewhere you’re not supposed to be and being punished for it, don’t you? Do you like being treated a little rough?”

And there’s that look again: eyes glassed over, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“Go on Aziraphale, you can tell us. We can be very accommodating.”

“Yes,” he manages, pupils blown wide as you walk your fingers up his chest. 

You and Crowley exchange a grin. 

The three of you don’t roleplay a lot. You’re happy enough with each other as it is, there’s not usually a need to bring the fantasy element into it - but variety is the spice of life and after floating a few scenarios this is the one you eventually agreed to. It really happened, actually. You can still remember the guard you knocked over the head to clear the way for your lovers’ escape. Ahh, fond memories.

You have some clothes still kicking around from then too, so a little bit of searching your wardrobe really meant you could get into character. Aziraphale and Crowley get to cheat by just manifesting whatever they fancy wearing. You feel they get off a bit easily.

Well, they will by the time we’re done, a devilish voice in your head pipes up. 

Crowley has really gone the whole nine yards for this, though. Clearly he wants all parties involved to enjoy it to maximum effect, and so when the two of you step into the bedroom it’s no longer a bedroom, in fact it looks exactly like a dungeon where your poor angel has been imprisoned before. His curls sit neatly styled on his head as he wears his pretty little aristocrat outfit, the one that did things to you back in the day and still does things to you now. His wrists are shackled and he looks up at you both with the most pathetic little gaze.

You swallow. You’re going to enjoy this.

“Well, well, well,” Crowley says, wasting no time before getting into character, “look what we’ve got here. Some lost little rich boy who got caught by the wrong people, eh?”

Aziraphale shifts in his seat. Already he’s affected; eyes soft and mouth slack. He tugs uselessly at his restraints and looks very pitiful indeed.

“Please let me go,” he whispers, encapturing the role of a feeble little captive perfectly. You and Crowley exchange a look, lit by a hot undercurrent of lust.

“Why would we do that?”

“I can reward you. Very handsomely. My family –”

“We don’t care about your family,” you laugh, cruelly, and he flinches. You close the gap and take his face in your hand roughly, forcing him to look up at you. “We only care about seeing your pretty little head in a basket. Look at you. Pathetic, aren’t you?”

The ardour in Aziraphale’s eyes is evident: his pupils have blown wide, engulfing the beautiful colour of his irises. You can see his trousers tighten and he has to adjust himself.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” he agrees. You grin down at him.

“And what would you do, hmm? To get us to help you? Smuggle you back on a ship on its way to merry old England, where you’ll be safe?”

“Pay.” His voice is breathy now, strained as he looks up into your eyes. You press your calf more firmly between his legs and, almost without realising, he begins to rut up against you. He’s already fully hard. 

You didn’t realise how much he wanted this. If you had, you and Crowley might have indulged him earlier.

“Pay with what?” Crowley echoes. He sounds stern but you know him well enough to hear the reediness in his words. He’s probably half-mast too.

Aziraphale doesn’t answer, just rubs into your leg a bit more.

“With your body, you pretty pathetic thing?”

He moans, actually moans, and nods.

“Look at you. Fucking up against me like a dog. Is that what you are, hmm? Some piteous little mutt?”

He makes a noise of affirmation. You can see a wet spot appearing at the front of his trousers where his precome floods him.

“Say it.”

“I’m a dog,” he whines. You shoot Crowley a grin. The demon, for what it’s worth, seems to have become a captive audience to the scene of Aziraphale trying to get off using just the pressure he can create. A stamp of your foot stops both Aziraphale in his attempts and brings Crowley back to the moment.

“If you want to be free so badly, show me what you’re willing to do. Suck his cock.”

Aziraphale looks over to Crowley and, without missing a beat, lets his mouth fall open. It’s like a magnet to your husband who closes the gap immediately and, with some fiddling with the buttons on his fly, frees his rock-hard member and presses the blunt head of it against the angel’s tongue, who takes no time in swallowing it down.

You don’t move from your place between Aziraphale’s spread thighs. In fact, you shove your leg between them even harder and he understands what you want, continuing to try and get himself off. His head is twisted at an almost painful angle to be able to fellate Crowley at the same time as desperately humping you, and you can see the tears prick in his eyes.

You consider asking for a moment if he’s alright, but know if he needed to tap out, he’d let you both know. This is about humiliating him after all. And you really want to play your part properly.

Hungrily you watch the sight of Aziraphale swallowing down Crowley’s cock. God, he is magnificent at taking a dick. You can see spit drip over his lips as he tongues at the slit, his eyes rolling back in pleasure at being used. Crowley’s hand come to tangle in his soft curls as he fucks into the angel’s mouth and hits the back of his throat over and over. You’re taken in by it too, and in the heat of the moment find yourself ensnaring Crowley in a delicious kiss. Your husband kisses you back leisurely and lovingly. You know he’s enjoying both of his spouses to the fullest. Aziraphale gags and finally the tears spill, hot streaks staining his pretty roseate cheeks. 

“Pathetic,” you say, lovingly, adoringly. Aziraphale’s thrusts up against your leg are beginning to get a bit sloppy now, you know he’s close to coming; you extract yourself and turn sharply to Crowley.

“Stop. We can get more use out of him. I want to see you fuck him in front of me.”

You make quick work of your clothes. Usually you’d relish undressing for them, put on a show, but tonight is all about satisfaction. Lying on the floor you open your legs, gesturing Aziraphale to between them.

“Come on, you wretched thing. Show me what else you can do.”

Aziraphale moans and falls to his knees before crawling over to you. His mouth leaves Crowley with a very sultry little pop, spit still covering his face, lips fucked open and red. As he gets into position between your thighs Crowley kneels behind him, making short work of his dress breeches and brings them down to his ankles, around his heels. You position yourself propped up on your elbows so you can look over Aziraphale’s back as Crowley presses into him, not giving him the kindness of a warmup but knowing that Aziraphale will be able to take it anyway. His heavenly body can stretch and adjust with more ease than a human’s.

Your blond-haired husband looks up at you with deference and just a tinge of fear which goes right to the pit of your belly. He kisses your thighs sloppily, working his way inwards before he presses his mouth to you properly; attentive and thorough to your sex. 

Crowley begins to fuck him, hard and rough without any care for his well-being - exactly how Aziraphale wants it. You hear him moan around you as he uses his tongue to satiate you, every time Crowley thrusts he’s pushed harder against your body. Crowley is essentially fucking you through him. It’s an entirely filthy thought that has you panting as you feel yourself begin to crest. You didn’t realise how taken you were with this scenario until Aziraphale began his ministrations, and now you’re just as caught up in it as your husbands are.

“That’s it… fuck, look at you, splayed out between us like the whore you are… are you going to come on his cock, you pathetic little thing? Debase yourself like that? Are you going to swallow me down too?”

Aziraphale pushes his face even harder into you, his nose brushing against your tight curls there; Crowley’s thrusts begin to get erratic; all three of you are close. You grip the angel’s hair so hard he shrieks in pleasure, and it’s enough to get him to spend all over the floor. Crowley comes inside him with a bitten-off snarl, his hands digging into the softness of Aziraphale’s hips so hard they’d leave bruises were he a human; and you release in the angel’s mouth after a particularly dexterous lick. The combined sound of your orgasms shatters whatever hold Crowley had on the manifestation of the situation, and suddenly you’re all back in the bedroom, sweating and gasping and replete.

“Aziraphale,” you manage as you catch your breath, “are you alright, my darling?”

Aziraphale has collapsed into a giddy pile onto the carpet. He nods and hums, blissed-out, and you bring his head to lay in your lap as you stroke his curls.

“You did so well. Fuck, you’re wonderful.”

Aziraphale turns to look at you and reaches up to caress your face with a shaking hand. You press a kiss into his palm and look over to Crowley who’s gathering himself as well, serpentine eyes full of adoration at the image of the two of you embracing.

“I’m going to go and get some water. Keep him there, will you? I don’t want him discorporating from lack of aftercare.” Normally you’d engage in some light banter, but you’re so tired you let this sentence sit as fact.

“Yes my love,” you tell Crowley, accepting the kiss he offers you, and watching him saunter away. Lord. You could watch that demon for hours.

Heaven might be above, but right now, it’s entirely located in your bedroom in a townhouse in West London.

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul  @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @night-affiliate @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe

[fluffydice]

One of the main reasons Aren is such a good candidate for dating Kusuo is his realism compared to all of the characters. In some aspects, he even has a leg up over Kusuo because Kusuo has such a skewed perception of the world thanks to a variety of reasons, and his tsundere traits that make him a very unreliable narrator.

Even just in writing, Aren is a major asset to advancing stories thanks not just to his observational skills, but also to his proclivity towards both pointing them out and actually doing something about the situation. A big reason I believe Aren isn’t apart of a ton of situations in the show/manga is because without proper incentive to become enraged or hyper-focused, he’d solve a lot of the issues presented in the story. That’s why he’s only put in chapters where it makes sense for him not to have a clear sense of mind (think dealing with Saiko or Nendo’s Nendo-ness). Without it, he’d be another straight man in the comedy, something Kusuo already does quite well. But he won’t directly fix it, allowing for silly, stupid scenarios to occur. It’s not as easy to put your characters in an extended, wacky situation when one of them simply wouldn’t put up with that shit.

Aren provides a necessary, direct approach about things that would both aid Kusuo in helping others and help Kusuo himself to confront the demons in his life. If Kusuo scorns the fact that a lot of his life is just a big comedy series, then obviously he’d enjoy the fact that Aren has the ability to make things simple, and dare I say, normal. Aren would help fix things so Kusuo wouldn’t have to. He’d take care of Kusuo and coax him into becoming more open with others and himself, providing a safety net that Kusuo has never had to allow him to explore the world without experiencing its complete weight on his shoulders.

TLDR, the mangaka didn’t put us together a lot of times in the story because he knew we’d be unstoppable as the canon co-parents of the group

[cariantha]

Friends Again

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff Word count: 2.2K Summary: Ethan loses something important. Prompt: Imagine your OTP where both of them have a piece of jewelry that symbolizes their friendship, and it was just for fun and definitely not serious. But when one of them loses their jewelry, they start to realize that it (and their relationship) meant more to them than they thought. A/N: This is a prequel of sorts to Bad Dream. Some of the dialogue used is taken directly from Open Heart: Second Year.

A week before the conference in Miami…

The hour-long drive seemed to pass in the blink of an eye with conversation flowing easily between the attending and his intern. They had reached their destination, the Boston Medical Library, situated on the University of Massachusetts campus. 

“Thanks again for coming and helping me with this research. I’m sure you had better things to do this weekend,” Ethan said, parking and turning off the engine. 

“You. Are. Welcome,” Sawyer playfully chimed as she unbuckled her seat belt. "And what’s better than solving a medical mystery and saving a man’s life?” 

She didn’t have to add “duh” to the end of that sentence. Ethan heard it in her tone and it made him smile on the inside. “God, where have you been all my life?” he thought to himself.

As they headed towards the library, they couldn’t help but notice the large farmer’s market set up in the adjacent parking lot. 

“That looks fun,” Sawyer remarked as she eyed the various booths from a distance. A variety of vendors sold everything from fresh produce, to homemade baked goods, to arts and crafts. 

Knowing it would make her happy, Ethan couldn’t resist. “Do you want to check it out?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” she asked, surprised. 

“Not at all. Believe it or not, I enjoy going to the farmer’s market. My dad and I would go when I was young. There’s a good one at Copley Square you should check out sometime,” he recommended, guiding her toward the first row of tents.

The pair strolled from booth to booth, inspecting all the different goods for sale. Along the way, they laughed at the silly products, exchanged personal stories, and sampled some of the food and drink. 

“Ohmygod,” Sawyer moaned, the chocolate melting on her tongue. “You have to try this,” she insisted, holding a sample to Ethan’s lips. Naturally and without thinking, he leaned forward eating the morsel right out of her hand, his lips brushing softly against her fingertips.

“It’s good, right?” she watched as he chewed and nodded affirmatively.

“Would you like me to pack up a box for you?” an older gentleman approached. 

Ethan reached for his wallet, “We’ll take two boxes.” 

“Happy wife, happy life! Am I right?” the vendor chuckled as he filled a container with chocolate truffles.

Seizing the opportunity to have a little fun at Ethan’s expense, Sawyer quickly replied. “Oh, he’s not my husband… yet. Two years of dating and he still hasn’t put a ring on it,” she waved the back of her ringless left hand. 

Ethan snapped his head to Sawyer and with bulging eyes silently asked, “What are you doing?”

“Back in my day, you took a test drive and either made the purchase or kept looking… none of this leasing business,” the outspoken elder shook his head. “I proposed to my beautiful Margie one month after our first date, and I married her three months later. When you know, you know… you know?”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” Sawyer continued the act, gently backhanding Ethan in the gut.

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose and whispered under this breath, “For Christ’s sake.” 

Sawyer burst out laughing, finally breaking character. When the vendor looked at her puzzled, she confessed. “Sorry, we’re not actually together.” Elbowing Ethan in the side, “I just couldn’t resist messing with him. We’re just friends.” 

“Well, in my experience, that's a good place to start,” the man winked, handing Ethan his purchase.  

As they walked away, he shoved a box of truffles towards Sawyer with feigned annoyance. “Friends? Ha! More like a giant pain in my ass,” he contended. 

A short while later they found a fresh produce booth. Ethan quickly occupied himself, inspecting and sniffing different fruits and vegetables. If Sawyer had been paying attention, she might have learned how capable he was with all the beautiful ingredients, but she was distracted by another nearby vendor. When Ethan struck up a conversation with the produce farmer, she slipped away to make a quick purchase.

“Where’d you go?” Ethan asked when she returned.

“I got you something. Hold out your hand,” she urged.

Ethan raised a skeptical eyebrow, but reluctantly did as she said. 

Sawyer looped a braided leather bracelet around his wrist and fastened it. 

He took a closer look, examining the metal charms. One with the letter E, and another with the letter S. “What’s this for?”

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” she explained, “and since I'm giving it to you, it's official now. We are definitely friends.”

“Is that so?” 

“I don’t make the rules,” she shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure you just did.”

Ignoring his snark, “Oh, and it’s tradition that when someone gives you a friendship bracelet, you get to make a wish.”

Ethan just rolled his eyes. But as juvenile as it seemed, he knew exactly what he would wish for. “I’d wish for you,” he said to himself.

“Hey,” she took his hand and held it for a moment. “In all seriousness, you know I’m here as a friend, right? I mean… I’m learning a lot working with you on this case, and I’m grateful for the experience, but that’s not why I volunteered to help. I’m not here as an intern kissing your ass.”

Ethan knew from the very beginning that Sawyer was someone he could trust. Unlike other interns who would expect something in return, like a leg up in the competition, he knew she had no ulterior motives. Just the kindest and most genuine heart. 

He looked her in the eye and squeezed her hand. “I know, Sawyer.”

Five months later…

Alone in the beer garden at Donahue's, Sawyer sat on her tucked leg, facing Ethan’s glowing profile. He stared straight ahead, transfixed by the firepit's dancing flames.

Having mustered the courage to confront the elephant in the room, Sawyer broke the somber silence that had settled between them. “Ethan, why didn’t you keep in touch?” She watched him take a deep, anticipatory breath. “No word from you at all for two months? After everything that happened between us?”

Ethan took a moment to find his words, then turned his head to meet her eyes. “Everything that happened between us is exactly why I didn’t contact you,” he began to explain. “Sawyer, if we’re going to work together on the diagnostics team, we need a fresh start.” 

Resisting every urge to reach out and take her hand when she looked away from him, he pressed on. “Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it with whatever… whatever it was that we had.”

Sawyer snapped her head back to face him, “‘Had’, past tense.”

Ethan reached for the whiskey bottle that he had grabbed from inside and poured himself another glass. The sleeve of his green leather jacket rode up just enough for Sawyer to notice a braided bracelet wrapped around his wrist. The same one she gave him a week before their relationship went from friends to forbidden fruit. 

“Yes. And the past is where it has to remain,” he added. Ethan’s eyes bored into hers, searching for understanding and begging for forgiveness. 

After a long moment, Sawyer broke the connection, looking down at his wrist again. She thought it ironic that he would wear a reminder of “whatever they had,” while insisting that they must now ignore and bury their feelings for one another. That cheap piece of jewelry meant something to him. And the fact that he wore it now, meant that she did too. 

So without concern for the consequences, she tested her theory. Surging forward, she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him. A long and gentle kiss. An act of forgiveness, and one that he seemed willing to accept since he hadn’t pulled away. But when she leaned back, she saw the turmoil written across his face. Just as she had months ago in Miami. 

“Dammit, Sawyer.” 

A few weeks later…

As much as he hated to admit it, Ethan desperately missed Sawyer. He missed their easy friendship. The way she always seemed to know what he was thinking. The way he could talk to her about anything. The way he could be himself around her. Not Dr. Ramsey, but just Ethan.

Though they saw each other almost everyday, their interactions were mostly transactional. It had been difficult to let their guards down around each other. Ethan found it too tempting to cross the line, and Sawyer grew tired of the knock-backs.   

The night that she helped him set up his Pictagram account reminded Ethan of the way they once were, before he left for the Amazon. It felt normal again. The friendly banter, the trust, the laughter… everything seemed right in the world for those few hours. 

After she had gone home that evening, Ethan opened his desk drawer, finding a cherished item. It was something that he’d kept near and dear since the day he left for the Amazon.  

“...how are you supposed to know when you’ve met the right person?” 

“It’s love, Ethan… you just feel it…” 

He slipped the leather over his fingers and rolled the charms with his thumb, as their conversation echoed in his mind. Then he thought back to the day Sawyer gave him the bracelet. 

“When you know, you know…” he recalled the old, outspoken man saying. 

There was no doubt he felt something for Sawyer, but was it love? Not having much experience with the feeling, he allowed himself to consider the possibility. But how to know for sure? That’s when Ethan remembered something else the vendor at the market said, when Sawyer told him they were just friends.

“Well, in my experience, that's a good place to start.”

A few days later, Sawyer approached the diagnostics team’s office. She spotted Ethan through the glass windows and paused to watch his odd behavior. He was searching for something, lifting up files, checking around the coffee station, and rummaging through the pockets of his outdoors coat. He was on his knees looking under his desk when she finally entered the room. 

“Shit…” he muttered, unaware of her presence. When she cleared her throat, he startled and stood up.  

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Ethan tried to act normal, organizing items on his desk. “Nothing.”

“You sure? It looked like you were searching for something. Can I help you look?”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he clipped. Fortunately, June and Baz joined them for the start of their meeting, and the rookie team member didn’t press any further.  

A couple hours later, Sawyer bumped into Bryce as he stepped out of the men’s restroom. “Oof!” he grunted.

“Sorry!” she quickly apologized as he caught her shoulders.

“Geez, Brooks, I know how bad you want to hit this, but at least buy me a drink first,” he teased, soliciting a roll of the eyes from Sawyer. “Whatcha up to?” he asked.

“Just a quick bathroom break, then off to check on our DT patient. You?”

“I’m on Ortho this week. On my way to scrub in for an ACL reconstruction.”

“Niiice. Well, have fun. I’ll catch you later,” she said, putting her hand on the door to the ladies room.

“Oh hey, do you know where the lost and found is? I found this bracelet on the floor.”

Sawyer instantly recognized the accessory. The personalized charms featuring the letters “E” and “S” were undeniable proof. Then it hit her. Was this what he was searching high and low for earlier? 

“Luckily, I know who that belongs to, and I’m more than happy to return it to them.”

“Cool, catch you later,” he waved.

That afternoon, Sawyer returned to the diagnostics suite. There she found Ethan standing in front of the smartboard, studying MRI results.  

Acknowledging her presence with a side eye glance, “Did you need me for something?”

Sawyer demanded that he hold out his hand.

“Whatever for?” he asked, turning and giving her his full attention.

“Just. Give me. Your hand,” she insisted.

He yielded and held out his hand. 

Sawyer fished the leather band from her pocket and wiggled it in front of his face with a satisfied smirk. "Could this be what you were desperately searching for in the office earlier?"

Ethan hesitated, contemplating what he should admit. He finally decided on, “Maybe.”

She took his hand in hers. But before sliding the bracelet onto his wrist, she looked him in the eyes. “Will you, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, be my friend again?”

He rolled his eyes, cracking a big smile as she batted her eyelashes and eagerly awaited his answer. Then he twisted his lips playfully, as if he had to think about it. 

Sawyer squeezed his hand hard, letting him know there was only one acceptable answer. 

“Okay, okay,” he begged for relief, “I’ll be your damn friend.”

“Good…” she said, her tone more serious as she slid the bracelet over his hand, “because I’ve really missed that lately.”

“Honestly… me too,” he confessed quietly.

“There. That’s a much safer place for it. Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked, making sure the reminder of their friendship was snug and secure.

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed, giving his wrist a twist.

“Well, friend, maybe we can talk later tonight and catch up a little?”

“Sure, call me,” he started, but then, “No, wait–”

Sawyer’s face fell immediately, assuming he suddenly remembered that he was trying to maintain those infuriating professional boundaries. 

“What are you doing right now?” he asked. “How about a walk to Derry’s for a coffee break?”

Sawyer’s happy smile returned. “I would love that… bestie.”

“Let’s not push it, Sawyer.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn 

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 5: The First Butterflies

Summary: Halsin and Tav are given the chance to know each other a little bit better.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 5,647

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

Emerald Grove goes through its first week as smoothly as a cog with the winds in its sails. Halsin welcomes a variety of animals in his consultation room for reasons as diverse as the species he has seen. From a routine checkup to heavier surgeries, every animal receives care and devotion in his practice, either from him or Karlach, who never skips on the chance to give the pets a good cuddle before they leave. A few of them need to remain under observation overnight, especially for older patients whose state requires closer monitoring. Before going home at the end of each shift, the tiefling makes sure to spend some quality time with the animals, giving them enough cuddles and kisses to last a lifetime, not hesitating to stay for an extra unpaid hour. Luckily, Halsin has found himself so grateful to have such a dedicated assistant that he does not hesitate to pay her for what they affectionately name ‘cuddle time’.

If anything, Karlach has only improved in her work. Fewer mistakes have been made when logging in patient information or appointments, and Halsin trusts her enough to make new patient files for those who desire to make him their pets’ designated veterinarian. She is a fast learner, constantly working on welcoming anxious owners in the best way possible, offering treats to the pets and sweets to the humans, always slipping one or two extra to the tiny ones.

Astarion’s work is just as qualitative. Halsin cleared the guest room in his own home so the vampire could sew in peace with a proper workspace and in a way that the noise will not disturb or frighten the animals. As promised, he enjoys quite a lot of freedom when choosing fabrics and patterns, and his first shirts were already given away to freshly operated pets in recovery. As far as they are aware, no problems with the shirts have been reported and, in fact, many owners and their children seemed to have felt more in control of the situation by being offered a choice in silly and cute patterns for the recovery shirts.

On Friday morning, everybody is busy with their own task at Emerald Grove. The faint whirring of the sewing machine can be heard through the ceiling, but not so much that it becomes a bother or that it startles you. Every so often, the floorboards crack when Astarion moves around the room to fetch new fabric, patterns or his equipment. Downstairs, playing Led Zeppelin through the speakers, Karlach hums along to the tunes while managing incoming emails or putting away the delivered kibble Halsin ordered on Wednesday.

In his office, Halsin reads the files of his afternoon patients once their previous veterinarians have transferred them over to him. While reading the medical history of a rat struggling with chronic severe itching to see what treatments have already been attempted, he hears his work phone ping. Startled by the sound, he chugs the cold tea he has forgotten, so focused he has been on the record. He grabs the telephone and unlocks it, seeing that a text message has come in.

‘Good morning Doctor Silverbough, would it be possible to make a medical report for Beaky’s injury? The lawyer from the APO advised me to get one to add more weight to the lawsuit against Mr Bongle. I hope that’s not too much trouble! Thank you in advance.’

Halsin smiles from ear to ear as he realises that it is from Tav. Without thinking, he puts the phone down and opens a new document on his computer to type in the medical report. He adds all the information he can cram into it, even seemingly minor details to be safe, and joins the X-rays taken of Beaky’s paw before and after surgery to the file. Once all is done, he takes his phone again to answer her.

‘Good morning Miss Ashguard, this is no problem at all, I am glad that you are asking and I am just as happy to provide for Beaky’s well-being. To which email address should I send it? Doctor Silverbough.’

Swiping his thumb down, he consults missed notifications and skips some of them. But right as he is about to open an important email, the phone vibrates. Tav answered already.

‘Would it be possible to print out two copies? I don’t have a printer and it seems that the lawyer is a bit old-fashioned. I will be in Heawick today, I can just pick them up.’

Feeling an odd tingle in his fingertips, Halsin smiles at the screen. On the computer, he sets out to print three copies of the file to be safe, then types in an answer.

‘They will be waiting for you in my office, then. Come by at any time. I can also put them aside for another day if you do not find the time to come, should that happen. Doctor Silverbough.’

Then, he hears the little doorbell and puts his phone in his pocket. Time for his duty.

Later on, when all morning consultations are done and the printed medical reports are sorted on his desk, Halsin peeks outside the window. For once, it is quite sunny and warm outside, even for an early spring day. He decides to take his lunch break outside. As he puts his jacket over his scrubs, he lets Karlach know that she can close the practice for half an hour, and that she and Astarion can use the spare key should they wish to fetch something to eat in town. Then, carrying his old cotton sandwich bag, he goes out.

The small park has never looked prettier than on this fine day. As he sits on a sunlit bench, fondly watching the ducks quacking around in the pond, he enjoys his lunch on his own. His phones are silenced for this half hour, his only music is the singing of the birds over his head, although the occasional car disrupts the otherwise harmonious setting. Even when he is done eating, he rests his elbows on the backrest and tilts his head back, welcoming the warmth kissing his traits.

The rustle of plastic bags pulls him out of his reverie. He cracks an eye open and sees Melly, the baker’s mother, dressed in her infamous duck cardigan and carrying her groceries. Out of politeness, Halsin stands up and smiles at the elderly lady.

‘Good afternoon, Melly,’ he greets her warmly. ‘Isn’t it nice to see the sun again after so much rain?’

‘Halsin! What a surprise!’ the woman beams. ‘Oh, quite pleasant, indeed! How has your week been, dear? Everything alright at the practice?’

He invites her to sit down on the bench next to him, gracefully taking the bags from her and holding her hand so she can lower herself onto the small seat. What an unpractical design. They set the bags between them and begin to chat merrily. He tells her about employing Astarion for pet shirts, and Melly is nothing but intrigued to hear about it. He omits the vampire’s legal issues, of course, not wishing to breach confidentiality in the way that the lawyer seems to have done to help his cases. 

‘Now this sounds like quite the week, dear!’ she says while rummaging through one of the bags. She takes out a box of chocolate biscuits and opens it, before pointing it at him. ‘Would you like to share?’

‘Oh, no, thank you Melly. I am trying to watch out. The renovations and the opening completely threw off my eating habits. I want to get back to healthy eating.’

‘Oh, dearie, the occasional snack has never hurt anybody. You should treat yourself from time to time. Still no?’

Halsin chuckles and hesitates for a second before reaching into the box to catch a biscuit. As she does so too, she clinks her cookie against his, as though she is toasting. They laugh and savour the treat in silence, watching the ducks and their bring new twigs towards the little floating nesting box that the town hall had built for them.

‘There should be ducklings about soon, I believe,’ he says enthusiastically.

‘You really do love ducks, Halsin, don’t you?’

There is no hint of judgment in Melly’s voice. Merely affection, as always. Ever since he moved to Heawick, she has given him unconditional support, despite her having no particular reason to do so. At first, it was curiosity that brought her out of the bakery to inquire about the works done to what was once a woodworker’s shop. After a lovely chat during which he invited her in for tea and she brought some pastries, she seemed to have taken a liking to him and never hesitated to watch him work from the bakery and bring him food if she noticed that he had not taken a break in a long time.

Despite his advanced age, Melly is the coddling grandmother he never had. Whenever he sees her, while feeling the urge to be courteous and mannered, he cannot help but feel some childlike joy ignite within him. If anything, she is one of the reasons why he has felt like home from the moment he set foot in Heawick.

‘Mh?’

Feeling the old lady nudge him playfully, he realises that he was lost in thought. He jolts and chuckles.

‘Oh, sorry. Yes, I love ducks. And bears. They are my absolute favourites.’

‘That is good to know. And that explains the little duck on your reception counter.’

Halsin laughs again and sees that Melly is trying to stand up. He rises to his feet and helps her up, then picks up her groceries from the bench.

‘Let me carry them for you,’ he offers.

‘Oh, no, no, son, don’t you bother. You have to go back to work! Besides, I’m stronger than you think for my age.’

She takes the bags from him and pretends to be lifting weights just to make him smile.

‘Well, it seems that you are happy with your week, Halsin, it warms my heart to see it,’ she chimes with a pinch of his cheek. I’ve already heard from Arfer that he was most satisfied with your methods and Clawdia was quite jolly afterwards herself!’

‘That is all that matters to me.’

‘In this case, you should head back. I will see bring you and your two colleagues some treats on Monday. Ta-ta!’

‘Bye, Melly!’

While he waves at her, he takes a step away and feels that his foot is crushing another under its weight and his shoulder knocks into someone’s chest. As the other person yelps and nearly loses balance, he quickly catches them. Embarrassment dusts his cheeks with rosy hues, which only deepen when his gaze meets a pair of beautiful turquoise eyes. His breath catches in his throat instantly. His heart races. If not already holding her by the arms, his palms would grow clammy.

‘Miss Ashguard!’ he blurts out breathlessly. ‘Oh, I apologise, I did not look where I was going. Did I hurt you?’

Tav’s face illuminates in a heartbeat as she recognises him.

‘Oh, hi, Doctor Silverbough! I wasn’t looking either, I’m sorry. But no, no, you didn’t hurt me. Are you alright?’

‘Oh, yes, yes.’

They stare into each other’s eyes for a split second, before clearing their throats and letting go of one another. Halsin scratches the back of his neck.

‘How is Beaky?’

‘He’s doing great! Recovering like a champ, I must say. I’m really glad that you took care of him. You did great.’

‘Thank you. And it was a pleasure.’

Tav tucks a lock of her fiery hair behind her pointy ear and points towards the path she is coming from.

‘Were you heading back to the practice?’

‘Indeed.’

‘May I walk with you?’

‘Of course! I have the files ready on my desk, you can already take them with you.’

‘Brilliant!’

As they walk out of the park side by side, Tav admires the town with her hands buried in her pockets.

‘Beaky’s already going outdoors again, by the way,’ she says, ‘I hope that it’s alright for his recovery. He just couldn’t stay put anymore if I left him indoors.’

‘Was it this bad?’ he inquires with an amused laugh, seizing the opportunity to take in her beauty, although he refuses to admit it, even to himself.

‘Oh, horrible! He kept horsing around, breaking stuff because he just didn’t feel comfortable inside. He almost knocked down my dad’s ashes. Now that would’ve been hell to clean from the rug.’

Halsin snaps his head around in concern. He observes her expression, which remains oddly calm after mentioning her father in such a nonchalant way.

‘I am sorry for your loss.’

‘Mh? Oh. That’s okay. I’m used to his absence by now, I suppose. Besides, he’d rather have me laugh about it than cry whenever I talk about him.’ ‘Were you two close?’

‘When I was younger we were,’ she says, burying her hands in her pockets. ‘But towards the end, we were constantly bickering about my career. He just didn’t approve of it. Not even a revelation in his last hours or anything. He hated it until the end.’

They reach the practice and enter. Karlach’s eyes illuminate with a blend of excitement and mischief as she recognises Tav and notices the fleeting glance she gives Halsin. The two women wave at each other and Halsin shows her to his office. On the desk is a stack of three coloured files of the same size. He picks them up and hands them over to her.

‘Beaky’s medical report. I made you three copies to be safe.’

‘Thank you so much,’ she chimes, taking them and briefly skimming the report. ‘That should be of great help.’

Halsin offers him a warm grin. Oddly, he is not eager for her to leave just yet. They may not have talked for long, but he feels the same tingles in his fingertips as he did when she texted him earlier this morning. What in the hells are they?

As she smiles bashfully at him and turns towards the door, his heart races and his mind nearly short-circuits. He wants to speak with her just a bit longer. Has he been a good host? Probably not. Why would he want to ask her to stay? Foolish. Stupid.

‘Would you like to stay for a cup of tea?’ he blurts out before he can stop himself, causing her to halt and peer over her shoulder at him. He suddenly wishes that he could disappear on the spot. Melt into a puddle. Deflate like a balloon and fly out the window. Catch fire. Anything. Why does he feel so giddy when she is around? He does not know her, neither she does him.

When she blinks while considering his offer, he wants to tell her that he is joking but he knows that he is not. He clears his throat and decides to play it smoothly.

‘I also have coffee and water, if that is more to your taste.’

Tav shrugs and grins. Such a beautiful sight.

‘Tea sounds heavenly.’

‘Right. Um. Have a seat,’ he says, pulling out his desk chair, the most comfortable he has ever sat on. ‘What kind? I can make you mint tea with honey.’

‘Like when I felt dizzy?’ she recollects, tilting her head in the most adorable way. ‘I would love that. It was delicious.’

Halsin nods and disappears into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Just like the first time he met Tav, he takes a moment to take deep breaths to calm his maddening heart. He cannot believe that he is losing his composure like a teenager experiencing puppy love. He is supposed to be professional and serious. This practice has been on his mind for nearly twenty years and he has finally fulfilled his dream. Is he going to throw it all away from the start by developing a crush on a pet’s owner? The first one to have ever walked in his practice, on top of that?

He cannot let this happen. Whatever this is, he must rationalise the situation. First of all, he knows next to nothing about her. Second, she is obviously younger than him, she would be better off with people her age. Third, he is being immature and he should perhaps take Karlach’s advice and sign up on one of these dating apps or sign up to a whittling or wildlife photography club in his free time. He would be meeting other people there. Other women. More appropriate relationship could occur there.

There. His heart is finally quiet. But the boiling kettle is not, yet he nearly misses its signal that the water is ready. He hastily prepares two cups of tea and brings them over to his office.

He finds Tav reading the report while gently swinging from side to side on his desk chair. When she hears his footsteps, she looks up and closes the files, putting them away for safety, should she accidentally spill her cup.

‘Thank you!’

Halsin smiles and sits in front of her on the stool that originally stood in his guestroom but swapped for the chair so Astarion can work comfortably. The clinking of her spoon against her cup as she stirs the honey while holding the branch of mint soothes him. His office often feels much too lonely, and finally having someone visit him there that is not Karlach or Astarion feels rather special to him.

‘So,’ he starts, trying to break the awkward silence, ‘you mentioned earlier that your father disapproved of your career. What awful path is it that you chose for him to be so against it?’

Tav chuckles and takes a first sip of the tea, grimacing as she burns her tongue.

‘I compose radio and commercial jingles.’

‘That is quite interesting, actually! Anything I might have heard?’

‘Probably not, unless you listen to the radio. The commercials aren’t broadcast widely, they’re mostly local.’

‘Do you like what you do, then?’

She shrugs and dares to take another sip, which finally comes easier to her. Just like him, she wraps her hands around the cup to savour its heat and takes a second to smell the mouth-watering blend of minty freshness and the heartwarming sweetness of the honey.

‘I do, but I wish I could aim higher. Ah, at least my schedule gives me enough free time to discover the region. Sometimes I can go for months without commissions, so I do need to find temporary jobs to survive. At least my dad taught me how to be a good moneysaver.’

‘That is important. I hope you will manage to sign bigger contracts, eventually.’

‘So do I,’ she grins. ‘Anyway. May I ask you when you settled down in Heawick? I can tell you’re not from here from your accent. It’s not too obvious, but there’s a hint of one. Are you from… the east?’

Halsin laughs softly and the tingles resume. Godsdammit. How dare she pay attention to the way he speaks?

‘I am! I arrived about six months ago. I bought the house upstairs and I am renting the office space for the practice. I find it somewhat silly that they came separately, but it is working so far. But I am hoping to buy it by next year, provided that all works well.’

‘Ah, yes, I remember the two being separate.’

‘How did you know?’

Tav drinks half of her cup, sighing contentedly as the drink flows down her throat.

‘I actually made an offer for the house. I made it to the final list, but it seems that your case was stronger than mine.’

He widens his eyes in surprise. The unreasonable voice in his brain whispers to him that it is fate bringing them together, but its resisting rival reminds him of the list he made in his mind earlier. He does not know her. She is younger. Dating apps.

Hiding his reaction as best he can, he takes a sip and 

‘I apologise, had I known…’

‘Oh, no, not at all! I’m glad you got it. Everyone’s so happy that the practice opened, you know? That was the talk in Combury for the whole week!’

Blushing at the idea that the idea he has been cultivating for years brought such joy to the community he has been meaning to serve and help. He cannot deny that the sole knowledge of it is bringing him to the highest highs. Within the first week, he has already achieved what he assumed would take months to establish. Yet trust is easily given within and across these towns, it seems. It is much different from where he comes from.

There, despite towns being as small and close to one another, few people reached such levels of altruism and compassion as he has experienced in Heawick. Where he grew up, too many members within the same circles turned on one another over the pettiest quibbles. That was precisely why his parents preferred to take him and retire into a tightly-knit community, closer to nature.

His love for animals and the environment stems from this peculiar upbringing. Reverting to a simpler way of life, Halsin was raised surrounded by the same familiar faces who took turns in caring for him whenever something came in the way. Whenever his mother or father became ill, there was always somebody jumping in to help with chores or with feeding him. If anybody encountered a problem in their life, the community strove to tend to them as best they could until the person finally jumped over the obstacle.

Meditation in the forest was commonplace as well, and he quickly learnt to care for the animals that inhabited it. Despite being homeschooled and isolated from the rest of civilisation, he often snuck out to study in libraries and research things that he had never heard about when among his folks.

Indeed, not everything about it was as idyllic as it may sound. If a member decided to leave and pursue other interests or another lifestyle, they were shunned and became the object of much gossip. If the person had children, then they could no longer come in contact with the children of the community, no matter how well they got along. Many ties were severed abruptly in his youth as more parents realised how this concept that, while coming from good intentions, had turned rotten and corrupt.

As soon as he was old enough to gain independence, Halsin fought to leave the community. While ‘civilisation’ in itself never particularly attracted him, he believed that there would be something in-between this seemingly carefree group and the bustling, polluted city. And he found it in little towns such as Heawick. Ever since he left his family, never to speak to them again, he stuck to smaller populations, which always brought him comfort from their numbers alone.

Adapting was decidedly difficult at first, but once he found a way to fend for himself with the support of charities and organisations meant to help people like him, living in the semi-civilised world began to feel natural. He received a proper education to fill in the gaps in his general and specialised knowledge, and he was eventually able to study to become a veterinarian. And it was during his studies already that the idea of opening his own practice to connect people and serve them sprouted.

Now, it has blossomed. And what a blossom it is!

Halsin finishes his tea and leans against the table beside him, gazing at Tav.

‘Why Combury, then? Since you wanted to settle in Heawick, why did you not look for other houses?’

‘The house on Birch Lane wasn’t on sale yet, so there weren’t any other options in Heawick itself. And… I don’t know, I really wanted to live by a forest, so Combury was the other logical choice. Now I’m renting my house, which is on the forest’s edge like yours, and I own a patch of field behind it because of Beaky.’

‘Does your landlord agree about Beaky living on the property?’

‘I didn’t tell him. That’s why I try to keep Beaky on the field as much as possible. He’s happier there anyway.’

He tilts his head in disapproval.

‘You should tell him. It is a bad idea to keep it from him. I would not want you to be in trouble because of your kindness towards Beaky. Perhaps you can compromise on certain things. Just… Do not leave them in the dark.’

‘I know, I will. I just don’t know what to tell him,’ she admits, drinking the rest of her cup. She then glances at her wristwatch and stands up. ‘I’m afraid I must go, I’ve got an appointment shortly.’

While Halsin stands up and gathers the cups, she grabs the copies of the medical report and slips them inside her bag. He escorts her back to the reception, even forgetting to take the empty teacups at all, so eager is he to spend every second with her. When they find themselves near Karlach’s desk, unknowingly piquing her curiosity again, Tav rummages through her bag.

‘How much do I owe you for the report and the copies?’

The question takes him aback. Perhaps he is supposed to charge her even a small fee for making him work on Beaky’s case again, but honestly, he does not have the heart to it. After all, if this lawsuit can help with granting her compensation for the strife caused by Mr Bongle while showing that the court cares about wild animals as much as it does pets, then he can only be glad to have participated.

‘Nothing at all,’ he says warmly. ‘It was my pleasure.’

‘Doctor Silverbough, you’ve worked on this file and used precious ink and paper so I could have everything. Please, tell me how much I owe you. It’s only fair.’

Halsin gently places his hands around hers as she pulls her wallet out of the back. Unbeknownst to him, Tav is a blushing mess when he does it. It only lasts a split second, yet it is enough to turn her assurance into bashfulness and to nearly create an explosion as Karlach suppresses the urge to scream ‘I told you so’. 

‘I insist. Beaky’s well-being and his safety are worth much more to me than money. I assure you.’

Tav sighs, but a smirk curves her rosy lips. She takes out a note equivalent to a hundred gold coins and slips it into the tip jar on Karlach’s desk. Both the veterinarian and his assistant stare with wide eyes as she does so, not having anticipated her gesture, let alone the amount that she put in.

Before he can react at all, Tav takes his hand and gives it a firm shake, adding to his sheepishness.

‘Thank you again for your help, Doctor Silverbough.’

Halsin sighs as though he has been holding his breath for a thousand years. Still shaken up by her donation, his handshake is not as firm as he means it to be, and he wonders whether she would take it as an insult. Probably not. The people in his region would, though.

‘Thank you for… Well. The donation. Thank you.’

Tav chuckles and shakes his hand again, and this time, he does not disappoint.

‘Have a good week-end, Doctor Silverbough.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard.’

‘Goodbye, Miss Cliffgate!’

Karlach, quite speechless from the scene she has just witnessed, waves at her with a smile. She cannot help but boil inside as she suppresses the flaming hot urge to gossip about Halsin’s crush on Tav with Astarion.

Once Tav has left, Halsin is still facing the door, quite dumbfounded. He then hears a hardly dissimulated squeal as Karlach stomps her feet on the floor and drums her fingers on her desk.

‘Doc, do I get to tell you “I told you so” or not yet?’

He peers over his shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow.

‘Sorry?’

‘You have the ninth-layer-of-the-hells-hots for Miss Ashguard! Look at you, Doc! What was that about? Her touching your hand? Shaking it twice?!’

‘You are reading too much into things, Karlach.’

Halsin attempted to distract himself from the allegation by taking a distracted look at his agenda and checking the time. The tiefling elbows him playfully and pokes her own nose.

‘I’ve got a flair for romance, doc. Who do you think played matchmaker with Astarion? He’s married now!’

‘Miss Ashguard is the owner of an animal who happened to be treated and operated here. Our relations are purely professional. I have a code of honour.’

‘But you’re dying to breach it. I can sense it.’

Growing frustrated by the situation more than by Karlach, he rolls his eyes and prepares the consultation room for the rat with recurring skin rashes. The rest of the days goes by as smoothly as the rest of the week, and there comes the time for the team to close up shop for the week-end. Astarion joins them, carrying his sewing machine and a bundle of pet shirts of all sizes he gives to Halsin. Once he has taken a brief look and approved of them, he brings them over to the small storage room and sorts them into several boxes according to species and size.

While the vampire fetches the rest of his personal equipment and brings them downstairs, Karlach squeals as she gazes out the glass door. Halsin frowns and comes by her side to observe what is going on. Coming out of an indigo car is a man about ten years younger than him with brown and grey hair combed back yet maintaining a carefully tousled appearance. His purple shirt is unbuttoned at the top, revealing some of his chest hair and a peculiar symbol tattooed into his skin. In his hand wearing a simple golden band, he carries a thick bouquet of red roses.

Astarion, hating when he is left out of gossip, comes to look with them and lets out a groan.

‘Ugh, he should know by now that I hate flowers. What a silly gift!’

Halsin rolls his eyes with a smile and unlocks the door as the man approaches. He holds out his hand to him.

‘Hello, you must be Mr Dekarios-Ancúnin!’

Gale chuckles and shakes his hand firmly, acknowledging Karlach with a bright grin and a wink.

‘Just Dekarios, actually. I’m afraid that only one of us was allowed to change his name, and Astarion insisted,’ he responds with his usual charming demeanour. ‘You must be Doctor Silverbough.’

‘Halsin is fine. Please, come on in.’

‘Then Gale is fine too! Thank you.’

Upon seeing Astarion, who is forcing a smile despite hating the fact that he is being given flowers, Gale beams with pride and affection unlike anything Halsin has ever witnessed before.

‘Hello, my love!’ he chimes, going towards his husband to kiss him. ‘This is for you, for completing your first week without being fired!’

He laughs merrily, before slipping his hand into the vampire’s.

‘Jokes aside, I’m so extraordinarily proud of you, Astarion. Really. So I thought that maybe we could celebrate it tonight?’

‘Mh. Thanks,’ Astarion replies curtly at first. Thankfully, his grimace does not last as he notices the sincerity in his husband’s gaze. He returns the kiss and nuzzles the other man’s nose. ‘Fine.’

‘Great! I already have something planned.’

‘Ugh, this better be a hot bath with candles and wine.’

Gale simply winks, yet this is enough for Astarion to smile giddily. The teacher picks up the sewing equipment to help his husband carry it to the car. Everybody goes their own way, the couple to their car, Karlach to her motorcycle, and Halsin upstairs to his home.

After this busy day, Halsin takes a warm shower and only puts some underwear on before dragging his feet, clad in bear-shaped slippers, towards the couch. He lies down on it and covers himself with his favourite plaid, before switching the television on. He zaps from channel to channel until he finds a documentary on the ocean’s wildlife. He makes himself comfortable and takes a moment to finally relax after work, doing something he truly loves.

That is, until his work phone pings.

He sighs and picks it up from the coffee table to check the notification. His face instantly illuminates as he sees Tav’s name on the screen.

‘Thank you again for the reports! You’re truly an angel! I forgot to ask you something earlier, I was wondering if you’d accept to be Beaky’s designated vet? Like people have their own GP?’

Without the need to think, his thumbs type his answer.

‘It was my pleasure, Miss Ashguard. I usually do not do this, but Beaky was an exemplary patient, so why not? I will create the patient file over the week-end, so you have nothing to worry about. Enjoy your evening. Doctor Silverbough.’

He runs a hand across his face and places the phone beside him on the blanket to divert his attention back to the documentary, which is now showing footage of a shoal of fish swimming in a set pattern. Nothing short of mesmerising.

When the ringtone plays again, he instantly check his screen with an impressive reflex.

‘Thank you! Apparently, that’s the only thing I’m able to say to you, haha! Enjoy your week-end, doctor, see you next week!’

Next week? Huh. Beaky’s appointment is not before two weeks. Ah, for now, it does not matter. He will see her then. If he gets to see her in the week to come, he will be just as glad.

The prospect alone releases butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi @cakenpiewhyohmy @reignydeys

[mephinomaly]

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Chapter 1

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Time: Flashback. Middle of February, the first year of ES’s establishment

Location: RhythmLink Office

Rei: This is a grave set of circumstances.

Recently, there has been a considerable loss of UNDEAD fans.

Though we have been on the decline for some time, now the numbers are showing that too. In the number of people attending our lives, CD sales, merch items, and many more.

Kaoru: Eh, really?

That’s surprising~... From my personal experience, I feel like since Yumenosaki fans still get all excited at fan sign events and stuff.

I don’t think we’re losing customers per say, more that our clientele is changing, right? Now in ES, we take part in a lot of variety shows that even kids can enjoy.

Kids have to make do with allowance their parents give them, they can’t exactly fork out a bunch to buy live tickets and CDs—

So if you look at the overall, it just looks like sales are going down, right?

Koga: Eeh, even though you’re stupid rich, you still get how the average person lives.

Kaoru: Hey, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. My parents are pretty strict, you know.

Adonis: Fufu. The reality is, we’ve been in the business so long we’ve become numb to it.

If you are a child, the price for live tickets is most likely far too expensive for them.

If you pester your parents over it, they’ll just become more and more firm in their decision.

Kaoru: Yupyup. They’ll be like “I’m not buying you silly things like that, just google a picture of them!”

Adonis: Is that what your parents said to you?

Kaoru: Not those words exactly, but pretty much, yeah. When I told them I wanted to go to an idol training school, they gave me a lot of flak for it.

Rei: We’ve strayed a little off topic but- whilst what Kaoru-kun said is true, we cannot ignore that sales are floundering.

To put it bluntly, the current UNDEAD is on the wane.

Koga: That’s exactly why I was against it! Goin’ on those lively variety shows don’t suit our personas at all!

Wish we’d just stuck to making cool music ‘cos maybe then—

Adonis: But if that was the case, UNDEAD would have been overthrown at an earlier point for being idols that aren’t current nor can read the room.

No, it’s more than that, it’s because our senpais purposefully signed up for a variety show that would make Oogami seem like an idiot.

Rei: It is more that we simply wanted to do that work, that’s all. As Koga quite rightly said, we are responsible for the situation we are in.

Koga: D-damn. It’s pretty weird for you to be so upfront ‘bout your faults.

Rei: Well, there’s no use being obtuse about it. No matter what shameful behaviour I get up to nowadays, no-one will grow to hate me…♪

Kaoru: Ahaha. I normally hate that kind of arrogance~, but since it’s true it pisses me off even more ♪

There’s been times in the past where you’ve immediately gone “that’s my responsibility”. If there’s a problem with UNDEAD, it’s a problem for all of us. Don’t try to deal with it all on your own, ‘kay?

Adonis: I agree. There are times where Sakuma-senpai acts like that. But we are not children who cannot undertake responsibility.

Koga: Yeah yeah, whenever you pull shit like that it makes me seriously pissed~♪

Rei:Oh? So what I'm hearing is that you all hate me more than I thought you did...?

Kaoru: We’re lecturing you because we like you. If we hated you, we’d just ignore you.

Rei: Hm… Anyhow, to return to what we were talking about, the cause of this whole thing is because we were not clear in our attitude.

UNDEAD was originally a unit that sang exclusively about immoral and radical themes via rock ‘n roll.

However as of late, we have been taking part in variety programs that emphasise friendliness which goes in opposition to our true nature.

We’ve created an environment where people say “Oh? UNDEAD looks scary to approach but they're actually surprisingly easy to talk to?”

But because of that sort of work we’ve been able to expand our clientele…

Those who have loved UNDEAD since the beginning are probably feeling disillusioned.

Koga: Ain’t we got our priorities twisted? We shoulda payed more attention to the so-called hardcore fans.

-And not the new “oooh so cute” new fans who think they know us just from watchin’ those variety shows.

Rei: Well, both are just as important as the other.

Of course we must treasure those fans who have been with us since the beginning, however if we do not gain new fans, their interest will fizzle out like sparklers.

That is how it goes in the idol industry, nay, in all of the entertainment industry.

It’s not as simple as, if you work as hard as you can, you’ll succeed and everyone will love you for eternity.

[ ☆ ]

Prologue

Chapter 2

[5mind]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

name — garlic / hsah

pronouns — she/he/they

preferred comms — mostly dms thanks, maaaaybe discord

name of muse — Fivemind, Chirptune, Antares

experience in RP — started when I was like 15? 16? that's like more than a decade now that i think of it. started off on the gaiaonline forums and then took a long break from it until I got back into it on tumblr. It's been on and off since then.

best experiences — honestly I'm mostly having a good time here, but shout-out to @pzfr for the fun hero shenanigans and , of course, the dodostep saga. Also shout out to @outofthiisworld and @fluxofthemouth who are tons of fun to write and plot with! Also this private discord rp I got going on with a bud who's not even in the tumblr rpc lol

pet peeves/dealbreakers — hmmm...hmmm. I'm kinda real lenient actually or at least I can't really think of anything off the top of my head until it actually happens. I know 'no godmodding' is like a rule page cliche at this point but it does happen... Especially if they get my character wrong...

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — variety's good ! love to put my funny fellas in Situations but also love to have them hang out with other people's fellas and get groceries or something. I'm generally on the silly side but I do enjoy dramatic tension and mystery and maybe some horror elements :3

plot or memes — memes are a good start and then we can plot from there! plotting straight away's cool too but I personally go by memes reblogged by the other person first because at least that gives me an idea of what they might want

long or short replies — yes to both ! will admit I can get burned out fast if I dont have threads with shorter replies in between. and really it depends on what we're trying to do here.

best time to write — after a quick rest or nap once I'm home from work. Or the weekends. Mostly weekends tbh since then I can be in an rp mood while my mutuals are active. Unfortunately, a lot of my mutuals' peak activity hours are also during sleep and work hours for me ...

are you like your muse?: damn... i sure hope not ! I kid of course. I mean, most people channel some part of themselves (not necessarily personality but yknow) into their main muses and I'm no different. And I mean,,, I'm a super sentai fan writing a super sentai fan of a muse ...I have never been subtle in my life

tagged by: @pzfr

tagging : uhhhhh @schattenmagier , @the-haunted-office , @rage-reloaded , @the27percent , @mechahero and whoever else was tagged in the question above and whoever else that wants to do this

[bucketfullofstrawberries]

How do you personally keep going with motivation? Do you just ignore the bad stuff?

Ooh, what a wonderfully unexpected question!

(and to all those who want to, please, keep them coming~)

WELL!

Personally, I do have my own ups and downs when it comes to motivation towards things! One of things, of course, being art. I've actually only recently managed to break free of one of those dreaded art blocks- eugh.

Sometimes I do tend to struggle to get back into the gist of things if my motivation seems to slip. It can be difficult! And sometimes there's nothing you can really do about it but wait. But let me tell you this;

Side projects do you wonders. Just little doodles even!! Nothing big. DEFINETLY nothing fancy. If you're working on a big project, you don't want ANOTHER big thing PILED on top of that! But small little side projects & activities keep your brain active with variety - instead of sending it into a bore & drowning out the motivation you hold so dear with the same task that eventually becomes mundane and unenjoyable. Don't want you making yourself miserable, now do we?

For example, recently, I just finished a reference sheet for one of my idiots, Edgar. I'd been planning to do for a while - It'd actually taken me a good amount of time to gather the motivation to DO so, but when I started I didn't just stick to that the ENTIRE way through.

I made sure to have fun with it. Take breaks if I needed them. Pace myself. And draw on the sidelines. Just some silly things. Nothing too "demanding". I actually kept them on a separate page to show later on! Here: ~

Now, I'm not always brilliant with advice or explaining myself.

So to try and put it simply: Keep yourself entertained and don't force yourself into something that'll drain you! That'll just make you feel less inclined to keep going! The mind works weirdly that way. And some people may think & work differently!!

But that's how I, personally, trudge through it. Persistence, Variety, Breaks, & making sure not to push yourself TOO hard to the point where it's become frustrating. That's the last thing you want in a low-motivation situation!

And most importantly, Enjoy it! Enjoy what you do! If it's not enjoyable, then you should shake things up a bit! Have fun, try things out, do things differently! Art, and this is my personal opinion, you may think differently and that's A-OKAY!!, should be a hobby, a passion. Not a chore! So don't make it one!! Don't put that pressure on yourself.

If the motivations low, then it's a no-go!! Build yourself back up to it slowly, don't force yourself into anything!!

That's all I really have to say about it! If anyone wants to ask me questions like this I'd be delighted to try my best to answer in full, or at least to my best ability-!! 🫶

[di-diwata]

Physical head canons for the OSEC group!

(I am working on an actual fic, however i am dead terrified of mischaracterising them to the point where I am struggling to write. So head canons instead)

Under cut:

I think Ursula has very rough hands, lots of callous on them. She works with machines so I think her hands have a couple scars on them from mishaps while repairing stuff. Also! She’s a mermaid, so she’s going to be in water a lot. More often than not if you touch her hands you’ll find them wrinkled as hell. <- your fingers wrinkle in water to help you better grip wet stuff.  Also, I think she has a scar on her nose from where she swam into a rock when first learning to swim.

Genie! She’s not been an explorer as long as Jai and Max, nor does she mess around with machines a lot, so I don’t think she has as many scars as the others. However she’s always covered in a variety of temporary injuries: hot glue gun burns and small cuts from her creating her hats. She’s got dimples i think, on both sides, and freckles. They all have freckles actually -when they’re not on expeditions they’re back at the base and that place is very sunny in my mind. She’s also got a little gap between her front two teeth.

Jai! First off: he was born missing his arm, so no traumatic accident there. However people like spreading strange rumours about how he lost his arm so depending on who you ask depends on what you get told. Also! The further into the series you get the less ‘perfect’ his appearance is (a physical manifestation of how he’s able to let his dad go, as well as the need to be always perfect). He has a few acne scars as well as just acne in general -especially on his jaw. After the book ends, I think he gets braces. He’d probably get them in the club's colours because he's a nerd <3 he’s also just got an assortment of small scars from previous expeditions. (It’s canon that he has a long straight nose btw. Putting this here for myself because I *will* forget otherwise)

Now Max! Like Ursula, Max is almost always working with machines, so his hands are quite scarred. He’s also got a bunch of random scars (like Jai) due to previous expeditions. I like to think he has a couple moles, one on his shoulder and two on his face. When he’s nervous or bored he chews his nails, so they’re constantly short. He’s broken a couple bones -a mix of doing incredibly stupid things and just getting into unfortunate situations- more than any of the others. He’s also got a lot of freckles; not so much on his face, but his shoulders and back are covered by them.

---

It's just a couple of silly head canons, but these were fun to come up with! it also helps me with visualising the characters lol. I might do more of these, i'm working on a clothing one atm.

I might also do something like this for the PBEC when i read it.

idk hope you enjoyed this post!

[sophia-sol]

The Stand-In, by Lily Chu

ughghghg this is…ok like. This is a romance novel that combines a) things I really like and think are well done, b) things that aren't really my thing but are common for romance novels so I can overlook them, c) things that are like, fine I guess, d) things that aren't handled super smoothly, and e) things that I hate SO SO MUCH.

As you might guess, this combination leaves me feeling a bit conflicted!

The novel is about a biracial woman named Gracie who happens to look a great deal like a famous Chinese actor (Fangli), who because of reasons needs someone to pretend to be her for a few months. Gracie then gets thrown into a world of what it's like to be rich and famous, and spending time with Fangli and her best friend Sam, and learning how to pretend to be someone else.

The premise of the book is pretty inherently silly, but that's fine, implausible set-ups are normal for romance novels and I can have fun with it. The voice is a breezy first-person-present-tense, which is probably my least favourite variety of narrative voice out of all the options, but that's becoming super common as well so here we are.

It was set in Canada, in Toronto, which is hypothetically a plus for me – I enjoy when I get to read a book that is actually set in the country I live in. But it felt in this book like Toronto was just a series of famous set-pieces, rather than being a real city, so that was a disappointment.

I liked the way the book handled Gracie's complexities of emotions over her relationship with her mother and the way it's affected her, and I appreciated the way Gracie and Fangli became friends so easily, and the stuff about Gracie's biracial identity seemed well-handled too. Also the mental health content. And overall I just liked all of the major characters, which takes me a great deal of a way into enjoying a book! Though the romance itself (between Gracie and Sam) was just like. Fine.

But the book spent a great deal of time putting me in positions of feeling like I had to cringe on behalf of the characters, which is NOT my jam, and then near the end, it went all in on a trope that I haaaaate whenever I come across it, which is the whole "someone overhears a conversation, assumes it's about them, catastrophises without double checking any of the details, then once there's been enough drama and angst milked out of the situation, it turns out it wasn't about them after all" schtick. No thank you!!! Also it turns out that Gracie and Fangli are long-lost sisters, which is a bit too melodrama coincidence for me.

I don't know. It's good representation to exist in the genre, it's a quick and easy read, I can absolutely see it appealing to lots of people, but ultimately it did not live up to what I personally want out of a romance novel. (or a novel, period.) Ah well.

[fantasticcloudcreation]

More rambling hehe slander is on rn and I have a headache and I might be having a heart attack but it's probably just this low simmer panic I've been sitting with all night and there's only an hour left and I'm gonna get thru it

You know what? It's fine. I'm surviving. I'm getting paid to be here and maybe I'll hit overtime this week bc of this shift. Nothing matters, I'm not special or important, I'm just another number on the roster, it's fine. There's only an hour left and then I can go relax at the hotel for an hour and come back in the morning :)

I'm gonna get back on track with food + exercise this week, I'm gonna hang out with L and get as much time with him as I can, I won't be so grumpy because none of this even matters, let it go.

I'm skinny and if I stay on top of my shit this week I'll be 105 or lower whenever I find a scale. I'll get to go home for thanksgiving (cold weather + hug my family) and then I might come back to Miami for the next gig, might not, it doesn't matter either way. (Realistically I probably will and it might suck but it might not suck, who knows.) Next year I'll plan ahead to Not be in Florida for the entire fall + winter seasons :)

Everything is fine. I'm surviving. There are worse jobs lmfao. There are better jobs too! Right now I'm here and it's fine! Most days I love my job and it's unfortunate that this gig hasn't had many of those days but you know what, it's fine, none of it matters!!!

Tomorrow will be a better day. Load out is easy, you just take things apart and put them in boxes. There's so many people on this call, I can fuck around and just pretend it's a workout and talk shit with my coworkers and it's gonna be fine.

My phone hasn't died even though I've been on it for almost 10 hours straight, old phone would've been dead twice by now. Even if I had a book or activity it's too dark down here to see anything, I would've had to sit out in the open somewhere on some random box, this is better. I feel like today's shift has been the equivalent of "a watched pot never boils" except you know what, it does eventually boil, and a 12 hour shift with Zero tasks also eventually ends! It's almost time to start packing my shit up and go sit somewhere visible so bossman can tell me when it's over lol.

Life is funny. I feel like I've gotten over something tonight, not sure what exactly. This music is still getting louder, idk how they do it. I feel like my ears hurt even through the earplugs. But it's fine and I'm feeling better than I did when I got here. I also didn't actually cry the entire time! Almost cried once, had a lot of low level panic energy and a big mope, feeling ok right now (maybe bc it's almost over.) I guess the lesson is, no matter how unpleasant the situation, just make yourself as comfortable as possible and wait it out? Nothing lasts forever.

How silly that people pay thousands of dollars to attend this event and I've just been complaining and resisting the entire thing; I'm being paid to be here and I can't even enjoy it ? / But it's not my vibe and I would've never come here if I didn't have work, and now I know not to work it again next year. It's all fine.

I guess there's something to be said about learning how to surrender and accept whatever unpleasant environment you find yourself in, there's a lot of potential for growth if you can meditate your way through it. The music hasn't been terrible and I might've had a better time on a different day (if I wasn't on the clock and I could've done drugs haha)

But, ayy, 9:56. Bossman said expect to get cut around 10 or 11 so it could be any minute now :) maybe I'll pack up and go sit somewhere with less bass resonance; there's not a lot of good options for seating out there but maybe I'll socialize for the last bit of the night.

Whatever. Nothing matters. The bass vibrations feel kinda cool and at least this guy has variety between his songs. Maybe L will come back soon but I know he wants to see John summit so maybe I'll be driving myself home and he'll find another ride, or maybe he'll try to talk me into going over there with him, or maybe we're actually staying until midnight for some reason, who knows, I don't know shit, I'm tired of all of this, I'm just here and I'm just existing. As soon as I can leave this place, I will be. I'm gonna go check in with bossman and see what the deal is about cut times.

[pluraladvice]

So I'm in a system and like for a variety of reasons (being an OC Fictive, mostly) another system member is effectively a creator god to me, and this has created a unique problem for me that no other system member has.

I am almost physically unable to talk about a musician I like outside of very specific circumstances (talking to one trusted friend mostly). Trying to type out her name or post a song by her literally makes me kinda freeze up, because the Headmate that originally made me has put some kind of block on me. This hadn't happened to anyone else here because they don't have that specific sort of relationship in-system.

Does anyone have advice for getting this "divine" block lifted?

Some additional info: I know that at least part of why I'm unable to talk about this musician is that that Headmate is very embarrassed about liking her music themself because it goes against their Music Snob persona they've built up, and her music is a little edgelordy so they're worried the music might ruffle some feathers in our friend group.

Also outside of this my relationship with the creator god Headmate is very good! I think this is the only issue between us. I'd love for it to not be an issue, hence the request for advice

Forcing someone else to not enjoy their likes and loves is far more cringey than enjoying a silly band or musician. Cringe culture is dead, don't force it on your headmates. As for you I would suggest looking into getting help either professionally or doing your own research on co-dependent relationships. While this isn't entirely what's going on here, a lot of the things that will be given as advice can be applied. Having a conversation about this outright and why it hurts you and setting those boundaries, improving your own self-esteem and self-worth, focusing on yourself more than them. System relationships aren't all that different from your everyday relationships. They're just as nuanced, just as complicated, and (sometimes as not every situation is) just as easy to fix (again dependent entirely on circumstance and situation). Learning your attachment style can also really help with a conversation about these things!

[demigod-shenanigans]

Sending you specifically some prosthetics!Leo hcs because I remember you saying it’s a hc you really enjoy

One of my favorite stupid facts from my oneshot series that I haven’t been able to make use of yet is that once they start getting new campers who weren’t around for the war with Gaia and don’t know how he lost his leg, Leo starts coming up with a variety of stupid stories to tell new people that ask how it happened.

They vary from “I left my leg in the dryer” to “one time I made a deal with a goddess that would have cost me an arm and a leg, but thankfully I’m a really good negotiator”

Leo’s absolute favorite reply is looking at the camper who asked in confusion, then looking down at his feet and going “I’m missing a leg? Why didn’t anyone tell me??” (ToA doesn’t happen in this universe so I’m not sure how exactly that works out logistically but I’m 100% sure he’s used that one on Meg)

-Leo actually had a standard Apollo cabin prosthetic leg at first but it just didn’t feel right to him. He was already struggling to adjust to the whole situation and the leg didn’t feel like his and he just hated everything about it. Making his own involved a lot of trial and error and some help from the Apollo kids but it did make him feel a whole lot better.

-There’s two buttons on his prosthetic, hidden behind a panel so you can’t touch them accidentally. One will turn it into a running blade when necessary which comes in very handy on missions. The other one he insists no one is allowed to touch and he refuses to say what it does (Percy and Piper have a bet going on what it’s for and whether it’s something dangerous or something really silly. There’s a very real possibility it actually doesn’t do anything (yet) and he just put it on there to mess with them.)

-Leo can and will tinker with his prosthetic leg even when he’s wearing it. This is completely inadvisable and Will has chided him for it several times but Leo honestly just forgets he’s supposed to take it off when he works on it.

-Leo also forgets he’s supposed to take it off and take breaks from wearing it, period. He obviously takes it off when he goes to bed but when he goes into hyperfocus working on a project, all bets are off.

-After fights with monsters Leo has, on multiple occasions, claimed he was having trouble with his prosthetic leg in order to get Jason to carry him. Jason would carry him either way if he just asked.

-I know in my heart that Leo makes so many HTTYD jokes. Jason didn’t get it at first so he was promptly dragged to the Hephaestus cabin for a movie marathon. There’s a decent chance he’ll be made to watch the tv shows too.

Trying not to make the same mistake as last week and be a bit more well-prepared this time, so asking in advance: tomorrow will be horribly stressful and I would really appreciate getting some kind of fluffy headcanons or asks or something that I can distract myself with :)

[novorehere]

I’ve had this very silly idea in my head for quite some time now, and finally, FINALLY it’s finished. I proudly present to you: yet another set of Obey Me headcanons. But this time, with a twist…

(Warning: contains vore, specifically of the soft, harmless variety. Just in case someone stumbles across this on accident. If so, I’m genuinely sorry in advance.)

The Scenario:

Life is hard for an exchange student in the Devildom. Especially so when you’re only a foot tall and covered in fluff. Knowing this, your fellow exchange students at Purgatory Hall have prepared a gift for you! One fateful day, you receive a surprise package in the mail addressed from Solomon and the angels. Inside you find a shiny new bow and bell enchanted with a protection spell in case of emergencies. After all, a tiny sheep such as yourself could get into all sorts of trouble in a land full of demons. But it turns out the charm came with an unintended side effect. Your new bow begins to change color depending on which demon brother you last spent time with, and no one can figure out why. The pattern is seemingly random, but after a while it eventually clicks. The bow changes color depending on who ate you last.

How will everyone react to this news?

______________

Lucifer:

-Starts connecting the dots almost immediately.

-The fact that your bow turns red right after your shift guarding the fridge tells Lucifer everything he needs to know. No wonder you two were late to dinner again…

-The next time he calls you up to his office for “punishment,” he makes sure to test his little theory. Sure enough, for the rest of the day your new accessory is as blue as can be.

-This is entirely unacceptable.

-Immediately goes to Solomon and demands that he remove the charm. Unfortunately, the side effects can’t be removed without completely nullifying the protection spell. Then again, you could always just… not wear it anymore. But that would be putting you in an unnecessarily dangerous position. And Diavolo would be so upset if something preventable happened to one of his precious exchange students under his watch.

-Despite all this, Lucifer’s heart can’t help swelling with pride as you walk about the House of Lamentation sporting a deep royal blue color. His color.

-The rest of the demon brothers aren’t aware of the implications yet, but Lucifer knows it’s only a matter of time. And when that happens, he won’t be able to hide his private indulgences… But until then, Lucifer fully enjoys watching you go about your day. It’s like his little secret.

-Lucifer discovers another silver lining to the situation- It allows him to secretly keep tabs on his brothers and their whereabouts.

-Mammon says that he stayed after class at R.A.D. to help clean up? MC’s bright yellow bow says differently.

-It’s extremely convenient, and his younger brothers have no idea how he keeps catching them in the act. Perhaps this whole arrangement isn’t too bad after all…

Mammon:

-Notices your bow change color depending on who you’ve spent the most time with lately… which means it’s obviously charmed to show who your favorite brother is!

-Immediately starts hanging out with you way more often. Carrying you around, buying you gifts, taking you out on dates… (He’d never call it a date though, you’re just hangin’ out! THAT’S ALL!)

-Visibly distressed when your bow never turns yellow. What else do ya want from him, huh? Money?!

-Finally gets his wish after a satisfying night of hogging you away in his belly. He doesn’t even realize eating you was the reason it happened, he just chalked it up to the two of you finally bonding enough to get it to turn yellow.

-Extremely pissed when you arrive to dinner the next day with a shiny pink bow.

-After violently harassing Asmo, Mammon finally figures out the truth. He becomes flustered and defensive, claiming he never actually cared about their stupid bow anyway. (Spoiler alert: he does care. A lot.)

-As much as Mammon tries to hide it, he loves watching you walk around wearing his color. Now everyone can see that you belong to The Great Mammon!

-Now that he can tell exactly when his brothers get a turn with you, he can’t help feeling a little jealous. The Avatar of Greed will specifically make a point of gobbling you up just to change it back. He was your first man, and Mammon won’t let you forget it!

Leviathan:

-Leviathan doesn’t understand what all the ruckus is about. A color changing bow? What’s the big deal about that? If it did something cooler like transform into a magical ninja weapon, you’d have his attention.

-Once he hears from Mammon that it changes color depending on who you like the most, he’s a bit more interested. But obviously it won’t be turning orange anytime soon. Who would want to hang out with a weird otaku like him, anyway?

-Levi figures out the truth one night while the two of you are cooped up in his room. His stomach had betrayed him, growling loudly and messing up his game. And then you had to go and tease him about it, then one thing led to another, and… there you were, curled up in his belly while he (attempted to) finish the last level of Bad Demon Slayer.

(L-Listen, it’s not like he wanted to or anything, you were the one who offered, and-)

-His face turns a deep shade of crimson after he spits you up. There on your chest is your bow, which is now a very obvious bright orange.

-It immediately clicks, and Leviathan is mortified. How many people know about this?? He can’t just have you walking around the house wearing his color for everyone to see! He’ll just have to get Beel to eat you or something-

-Now that he knows what the colors mean, Levi can’t help but feel a teensy tiny bit jealous… Okay, a lot jealous. He tries not to, but it’s literally in his nature as the Avatar of Envy. Especially when Mammon actually starts bragging about how often your bow turns yellow one night after he’s had one too many glasses of demonus.

-The day after you and Mammon hang out, your bow will often turn orange. To the surprise of no one, and the embarrassment of Levi.

Satan:

-A mysterious color changing bow? How peculiar...

-Satan knows very well that charms can have unintended side effects, but he’s never encountered anything like this in his books. It seems benign enough, but just why did his idiot brothers have to go and turn it into some ridiculous popularity contest?

-But when there’s a mystery to be solved, Satan can’t turn down the opportunity to show off his sleuthing skills. Leave it to him to figure out the real reason your bow is changing. Detective Satan is on the case!

-At first he suspects it has something to do with the last brother you spent time with. He notices your bow turning yellow after Mammon squirrels you away somewhere, and blue after getting called up to Lucifer’s office.

-However, his hypothesis is debunked when your bow stayed the same color after an all-day shopping trip with Asmo… Very interesting indeed.

-Wanting to get to the bottom of this, he leads you up to his room where books on charms and spells are spread out all over his bed in a messy heap. Looks like he’s been doing some research and wants to test a few theories with you.

-A “few theories” turns into a whole night of experimenting, and soon you’re both absolutely pooped. Luckily, he has just the spell for that too. All that sleuthing worked up quite an appetite after all.

-And well well well, would you look at that… Imagine his surprise when you come back out wearing a shiny green bow. It seemed so obvious that Satan is a bit pissed he didn’t put the clues together sooner.

-Now that he’s put two and two together, the implications of you walking around wearing his brothers’ colors hits him like a truck.

-So that means Lucifer… Oh hell no.

-You begin to notice that Satan specifically offers to let you “unwind” with him whenever he notices your your bow is blue. To him, Lucifer’s annoyed face when he realizes and tries not to seem like he cares is priceless. It gets to the point where Lucifer specifically calls you into his office to change it back out of spite.

-This continues on for quite some time, and at one point Satan even gets Belphie in on it. The two even changed their group chat name to the “Anti-Blue League” for a while... Dorks.

Asmodeus:

-Ooh, a magical accessory that can change colors? Someone is jealous!

-Immediately asks where you got it so he can buy one too. Sadly, even Solomon isn’t quite sure why your bow is changing colors.

-So then all that nonsense about favorite brothers was made up all along. Boo. Of course, Asmo already knew that. Because if it WAS true, your bow would always be an adorable shade of pink, just like him!

-Asmo doesn’t eat you very often, but as soon as he spits you out and sees your cute little pink bow he is absolutely squealing with excitement!

-Makes sure to compliment how well it matches your wool as he combs and blow-dries you clean until you’re a cute little puff <3

-Absolutely adores watching you walk around wearing his color. Shamelessly makes sure to draw attention to it too. “MC looks so cute today! Doesn’t that bow suit them? Oh, it’s pink today? I didn’t realize, tee hee~”

-Can and will use the bow to make silly excuses of why he has to eat you. Of course you want it to be pink during your devilgram photoshoot tomorrow, right?! Green wouldn’t match the new outfit he was planning on wearing!

-Loves embarrassing his brothers by teasing them about your bow’s color. “Oh, looks like you had fun with MC in your office, didn’t you Lucifer?” “Guess Levi got a little hungry last night, hm~?”

-Everyone hates it. So much.

Beelzebub:

-Like Leviathan, Beelzebub doesn’t really care about the bow drama at first. He also heard the rumor from Mammon, and Beel has never been one to care about popularity contests.

-It does make his heart happy once he realizes how often your bow turns red. You really like him that much? :’)

-Beel’s a sweetheart, but admittedly not very observant. He doesn’t realize what’s happening until Belphie quietly comes and tells him one night. (Beel wasn’t sure why his comment mentioning that your bow had been turning blue and green a lot lately made everyone spit out their drinks at the dinner table.)

-In fact, he’s actually the last brother to learn about the true nature of your bow. The whole situation doesn’t really bother him though. He’s never been terribly embarrassed about acting on his cravings like his brothers tend to be.

-Plus, no one seems to mind when your bow is his color, so he’ll just keep doing what he’s doing. He thinks you look cute in red anyway.

-He feels happy when he sees that your bow is purple, because that means you and his twin are getting along :)

Belphegor:

-His twin telepathy combined with the fact that your bow conveniently turns red right after his brother’s hunger pangs suddenly vanish leads Belphegor to suspect the truth fairly quickly. He knew Mammon’s rumor was bogus from the beginning, anyway.

-Of course, he has to test it out for himself before he can be sure. Stealing you away to the attic room one night, Belphie shamelessly swallows you down and falls asleep before you get a chance to complain.

-Is extremely amused the next morning when he coughs you up, your bow a rich shade of purple. Suddenly the way his older brothers are acting makes a lot more sense.

-Thinks the whole thing is kinda funny to be honest. It’s a lot easier to tease you now. Oh, you let Mammon eat you? You really need to up your standards, MC.

-Can’t help but feel a little smug as you eat breakfast after spending the night together, your purple bow visible to everyone at the table.

-Will feign ignorance if anyone points it out. What, it’s just a purple bow. What’s so weird about that? Is there something you want to say, Lucifer? Hm? I didn’t think so.

——————

(That’s all I’ve got for now, perhaps I’ll write a continuation with the side characters at some point… we’ll see 👀)