#i found this image randomly and thought about this community

[wintergreenoreo]

Tumblr F1 fans with their favorite drivers:

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa: *writes a single throwaway line in one chapter of Lost and Found that is never referenced again*

Me, completely randomly and with no prompting: Alright, bet–

[markrosewater]

Elegance

Here’s my original article for Elegance.

 This is a topic I’ve wanted to write about for a long time.  Ironically, the words needed to explain the concept kept the column from being elegant. So I did what all artists do.  I found a way to say a lot in a little space.

 Enjoy,

 Mark Rosewater

 [NOTE: EACH OF THE ABOVE FIFTY WORDS IS HYPERLINKED.  BELOW IS THE FIFTY HYPER LINKS.  THE HEADERS SHOULDN’T BE ON THE LINKED PAGE.  I’M JUST INCLUDING THEM SO YOU KNOW WHAT EACH LINK IS.]

 ELEGANCE

 Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary has five definitions for elegance:

 • refined grace or dignified propriety

• tasteful richness of design or ornamentation

• dignified, gracefulness or restrained beauty of style

• scientific precision, neatness and simplicity

• something that is elegant

 The common elements appear to be dignity, simplicity, and taste.

 THIS

 Elegance requires thinking, but it also requires feeling.  Elegant prose is judged by how it makes the reader feel. It needs to generate a sense of calm that puts the reader at ease.  Everything in your writing should feel as if it was carefully positioned to create the proper effect.

 IS

 Pound for pound, the writer’s greatest writing tool is the verb.  Nouns add substance and adjectives add flourish, but it’s the verb that drives the sentence.  Choose a strong, descriptive verb and the sentence has flair and purpose. Choose a weak one and the sentence lacks any sense of drama.

 A

 Here’s a little game to test an elegance relevant skill (based on an old game called Inklings).  Randomly choose a noun.  Try to convey that noun to the other players using the least number of letters possible. You’ll be surprised how much you can communicate in just a few letters.

 TOPIC

 One of the greatest stumbling blocks to elegance is the inability to choose a single focus.  Elegance requires simplicity.  Simplicity requires a single purpose of thought.  This means that elegance starts before you write a single word.  A good sculptor must know his image before he picks up his chisel.

 I’VE

 One of the common misconceptions of elegance is that it requires a writer to be fancy. Elegance though is more about familiarity than formality. You shouldn’t be afraid of friendlier language such as slang or contractions, assuming that such language adds an element of ease rather than one of laziness.

 WANTED

 An important element of elegance is a sense of passion.  Brevity does not mean pulling away emotionally from words, but rather the opposite.  When you find yourself limited to fewer words, you must pack each individual word with extra emotional punch.  You are not reducing your message, simply your messenger.

 TO

 A good tool in understanding elegance is studying poetry.  Poetry is the most concise of all written art forms.  It strives to maximize impact while minimizing expression.  Each word carries the burden of evoking some essence of the poet’s message. If it cannot carry its own weight, it is excised.

WRITE

 To be an elegant writer, you have to become a student of prose.  You have to study the mechanics of language to understand how it can be shaped.  Once you have learned how to transfer the feeling in your head into meaningful words, you are on the path to elegance.

 ABOUT

 Be careful not to fall in love with ambiguity.  While intoxicating in its beauty, it is the enemy of elegance. Remember, the goal is not to make the reader struggle for comprehension.  Rather it is to lead them to the obvious conclusion. Elegance should be used to illuminate, not confuse.

 FOR

 Elegant prose requires connecting with your reader.  To do this, you have to understand who that reader is.  Nothing should come before this task.  It needs to be done before writing can begin. I like to compare this to planning a trip.  Maps are useless until you know your destination.

 A

 Another major key to elegance is the understanding of the importance of the tiniest detail.  Just as a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, a piece of prose is only as tight as its messiest detail. A good writer doesn’t stop at the nouns, verbs and adjectives.

 LONG

 Don’t confuse elegance with brevity.  Elegant things are short not because they have to be but because the difficulty to craft an elegant piece of prose combined with the limitations of time forces writers to be brief.  Elegant novels, for example, do exist, but they are few and far between.

 TIME

 To quote Roman orator (and letter writer) Marcus T. Cicero, “If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.”  

 Simplicity takes more time not less.  Anyone can get a point across with ten thousand words.  But a true artist can do it in ten (or possibly fifty).  

 IRONICALLY

 Irony is a potent tool for commentary.  Its genius lies in the fact that it comments not on what is, but rather on what isn’t.  Like all good humor, irony makes you laugh.  But like the best type of humor, it also makes you think.  It’s both funny and funny.

 THE

 Elegance in writing is about more than words. Equally important is how the words are woven together. Tempo, pacing, rhythm – these are the tools that set the mood for the piece.  Try reading aloud your text.  The natural beat of language is more suited for the ear than the eye.

 WORDS

 To realize the power of words, you must first understand how they work. Art is expressive; words are connotative.  That is, words draw their power from their ability to extract different ideas from different people.  A circle is a circle, but the concept of “scary” varies from person to person.

 NEEDED

 Elegance is not the result of any one attribute.  It is the combination of numerous factors coming together in harmony. This is why it’s such a hard skill to master.  Most people can pat their head or rub their tummy.  But put them together and it’s not quite so easy.

 TO

 An elegant piece of prose needs to hit the reader at a gut level.  Often they won’t know exactly why they like it, but they will recognize that something about the piece moves them.  There are many types of writing where subtlety is lost.  Elegant writing isn’t one of them.

 EXPLAIN

 There are many ways for you to explain an idea.  The most elegant one though is not through definition but by example. By connecting your idea to one already known by the reader, you’re leaving the work of teaching to someone in the past.  Education is hard.  Comparison is easy.

 THE

 If writing is like building a house, the structure is like the foundation. Its design will dictate how the house is built.  If it’s faulty, no amount of fancy brickwork will undo the damage.  So take the time to ensure your structure is building the kind of prose you want.

 CONCEPT

 Never underestimate the power of a concept.  An important part of elegance is condensing big ideas into little words. This is far from an easy task.  It often takes a genius an entire lifetime to create a truly innovative concept.  So take advantage of all their hard work and inspiration.  

 KEPT

 A common barrier to elegance is the belief that only one way will work. Often a writer is unable to abandon a beloved piece of prose even when evidence demonstrates otherwise.  If something doesn’t add to the larger sense of the piece, you have to learn to let it go.

 THE

 Readers notice things at a minute level far beyond their mind’s ability to interpret. This means that although they may not consciously notice many of your tiny details, they will do so unconsciously. Aesthetics teach us that it’s this unconscious structure that will determine whether or not it feels “right”.

 COLUMN

 All communicators, whether through speaking or print, need to find a voice. A voice provides familiarity and it teaches the listener or reader how to more quickly absorb the information. Elegance is all about the conservation of ideas.  Having a pre-learned voice to guide you is a very valuable tool.

 FROM

 I’ve spent some time talking about understanding your reader.  But there is one more person who is even more important to understand – yourself. Writing is about sharing your ideas with others.  If you haven’t spent the time to figure out what you think, how can you possibly communicate it?

 BEING

 “A picture is worth a thousand words.”

 Or so the saying goes.  What the cliché forgets to mention is how many words a single word is worth.  For example, take the word “being”. To capture the essence of what “being” represents is tens of thousands of words if not more.

 ELEGANT

 What is the value of being elegant? Why should you care? Elegance adds aesthetics. It evokes poetry.  It grants beauty.  Elegant prose draws the reader closer because it gives them something to not just learn but to admire.  Good prose stimulates the head, but elegant prose resonates in the heart.

 SO

 Who, what, where, when, how - all important questions.  But for a writer they pale next to why.  If you don’t understand the reasoning beneath the surface, the other details are irrelevant.  The act of elegance is cementing the why.  It’s taking the purpose and engraining it into the piece.

 I

 Elegance is a very personal thing.  If something doesn’t resonate with you, there’s no way for it to resonate with your reader.  Writing is an art, not a science.  There is no rulebook for how things must be done.  If your instincts are telling you that something isn’t working, listen.

 DID

 An important tool in your toolbox is time. Elegance cannot be rushed.  Mental ruts only get deeper the harder you focus on them.  Make sure to work time into your schedule so you are able to walk away from your writing. An hour next week is worth a day today.  

 WHAT

 Don’t let attention to detail pull you away from having a larger sense of what you’re writing.  Take this column as an example.  While I spent a lot of time fine tuning each entry I never lost sight of the effect they created when all the entries were put together.

 ALL

 Elegance requires taking a holistic view of writing.  Every word, every sentence, every paragraph is a piece in a larger puzzle. It’s not enough to understand the impact of a single element. You must understand how any two elements interact if you want to understand the potency of your text.

 ARTISTS

 Elegance and art are very intertwined.  Both seek to achieve a similar goal: to illuminate and inspire with a conservation of expression.  If you’re trying to be elegant, I think it helps to think of yourself as an artist. The instinct for the latter mirrors the needs of the former.

 DO

 An important part of any writing is understanding the feeling you’re trying to evoke.  And then realizing what mechanic tools you have available to evoke that feeling. Diction, verb tense, sentence length, alliteration, word flow, phonetic juxtaposition – each of these will control the mood and tone of your piece.

 I

 A writer’s life is the ultimate fodder.  Don’t be ashamed to plumb your own experiences.  You understand them deeper and more personally than anyone else.  No painter would refuse to use his finest paints. And, as a bonus, by using your own experiences, you will become better educated about yourself.

 FOUND

 Don’t forget that the act of revealing is also an act of exploration.  Don’t be afraid if you learn more than the reader you’re trying to educate.  Writing is not an exact science.  (Or even an exact art.)  Often you will find that the road to salvation has a fork.

 A

 Your future is paved with your past.  If you want to learn how to grow as a writer, you need to look back at what you’ve written. With time and a detached eye, your will find your mistakes become clearer.  Remember that it’s failure, not success, that bests drives education.

 WAY

 The problem with looking for a single solution is that you’ll never find more than one.  And the first one isn’t always the best.  But if you’re open to the possibility that every problem has an infinite number of answers, you’ll have the freedom of choosing the solution you want.  

 TO

 Sentences are filled with freeloaders.  Because writers seem to love overwriting. (I include myself in this camp.)  Make sure to create time for the editor side of you to prune unnecessary words.  If a word can be excised without any harm to the sentence, it has no right being there.

 SAY

 I’m spending my time today talking about elegance in prose, but most of what I’m saying is applicable in speech.  The key difference is that prose has less defining attributes like appearance or tone.  The key to elegant speech is making people focus on the words rather than everything else.

 A

 It’s ironic that something designed to be so simple can be so complex.  But that, my faithful readers, is the joy (and mystery) of elegance. Like an onion, elegance has numerous layers that reveal themselves as you slowly peel them away.  Oh yeah, and it can sometimes make you cry.

 LOT

 An interesting exercise is to look at each word you’re using and think about how much content is loaded in that word.  Then explore what other words exist that fulfill the same role but with added content.  Once you’ve found the word you can’t best, move onto the next word.

 IN

 A good way to get better at understanding elegance is to look for it in every day life. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised where and how often you find it.  Study each example carefully and try to see if you can put your finger on what makes it work.  

 A

 Writing is a shared endeavor.  No one owns the words.  If someone uses a technique that works, there’s no shame in borrowing it.  Like science, writing creates technology that’s brought back to the group to spur further advancements.  Elegance is hard enough to accomplish without refusing to use the toolbox.

 LITTLE

 How big should a piece of text be if you want it to be elegant?  The answer is as big as it needs to be – and not a word more. Just think of it as playing the game Jenga. Keep pulling words out of your prose until it collapses.  

 SPACE

 One of the most important lessons in art is learning the value of negative space, the idea that the eyes are equally drawn to what isn’t there.  Prose has a very similar quality.  When writing pay careful attention to what you aren’t saying. Often it will speak the loudest volume.

 ENJOY

 For some reason people tend to equate dignity with seriousness.  And as such they come to the false conclusion that elegance has no room for humor.  Ironic as humor is one of the most elegant of styles.  A good joke is no longer than is necessary to do its job.

 MARK

 As is always true when I head off the beaten path, I am curious to hear your feedback.  What did you think of this article?  Was it entertaining?  Was it educational? Did you actually read all fifty links?  And if not, why not?

 Tell me.  Inquiring mind wants to know.

 ROSEWATER

 I couldn’t end this week’s column without my trademark closing.  I mean, how inelegant would that be?

 Join me next week when  I go from being a letter man to a Letterman.

 Until then, may you learn to appreciate now just the “what” but the “how” and “why”.

 Mark Rosewater

[sakuralovespossums]

Human master shake x fem reader headcanons cuz why not

This might be my most cringe post yet. DO NOT READ THIS!!!

How it started/general HCs

Prbly met on the streets or at a grocery store. You found his awful flirting funny and kinda cute

You better have a TON of patience if your gonna be with him

Your relationship isn’t the healthiest (what did you expect? It’s shake) but it’s stable enough

Arguments are so common that’s it’s pretty much part of how you communicate with his stubborn ass. He knows not to push it too far tho out of fear of your wrath

I can see him French kissing you while you’re yelling at him to make you shut up. Sometimes it works. Most times he gets his ass beaten

Will randomly call you to either brag about himself, demand ask when you’ll make him food, or ask for nudes. Doesn’t care how late it is or how busy you are

Total tsundere

Has the nerve to act annoyed when you try to cuddle/kiss him, yet act all jealous when he sees you talking to anyone who isn’t him

Brushes off any PDA to maintain his “image” but will return it if he’s feeling really needy or wants to show you off to everyone

Acts all pathetic and soft when you guys are alone, begging for forgiveness

He’s such an ass. But also so pathetically adorable. He’s your adorably pathetic ass of a boyfriend

You used to worry about him whenever he’d show up looking bloodied and beaten up from whatever dangerous shit he got into because of his stupid ego. Now your just used to it

Meatwad really likes you and you see him as a younger brother much to shake’s jealousy

You and frylock also get along well. At first he thought you were brainwashed or held captive by shake before realizing you genuinely like him. He still worries over you and scolds shake about being a better bf

Shake especially hates it when your near Carl cuz he’s always trying to hit on you

When you met Ezekiel, he quickly saw you as his mommy and kept taking your attention away from shake, making him hate the kid even more

He is such a huge perv

NSFW HCs

Like this guy is so handsy that it’s annoying

Will smack or grope your ass whenever he can

Pulls your bra straps or panties to see them snap and make your tits or ass jiggle

I can see him fondling your tits like a stress ball without even noticing

Will stuff his face in between them to “hide” from frylock when he’s in trouble

Destroys all your sex toys because why the hell would you still use them when you have him?!

“Shake, have you seen my rose toy?”

*Sees him burning it and your other toys with a flame thrower*

Sex with shake was messy at first since you had to teach him how to actually pleasure a woman and that it’s not just about him getting off

Gets off on hearing you praise him

He tops whenever he’s feeling jealous or extra needy for attention (so quiet often)

Becomes super cuddly and kissy kissy during after-care, kissing your fresh hickies while fondling you

He denies ever acting that way later when you bring it up

A good way to grab his full attention is to mention a blow job

He rarely bothers to shave (eww)

Theres def been moments where frylock walked in while you two were doing it

Both you and frylock were embarrassed while shake was just annoyed

Forgets to wear a condom often

Good thing you take birth control

When your on your period

Shake def acts like a middle school boy hearing about periods for the first time

Avoids you like the plague cuz he doesn’t wanna deal with you when your being way moodier than normal

Unless it includes making you extra affectionate. He will gladly accept your kisses, cuddles, and sweet words with a goofy grin

Brings home the wrong pills when you tell him to go by cramp pills

I can see him staring and poking at you as you’re curled up on his lap. You fight the urge to strangle him as another cramp hits you

After being together for a while, he gets somewhat used to it and just lets you lean on him as he watches TV

Living together

Hope you know what your getting yourself into once you let shake live with you

It will never be peaceful again

He will leave your place a total mess

You get complaints from your neighbors/landlord about the heavy metal blasting from your house/apartment room all the time

Better store up on a lot of food cuz he will ransack your whole fridge

Makes up for it by cooking you meals in his pink apron (it’s canon he can cook)

Takes up almost your entire bed. It’s fine since his fat gut is already your own mattress

You wonder how you haven’t gone deaf from his loud ass snoring

You wake up trapped in his arms as he clings onto you, nibbling on your shoulder. You elbow him sharply when he drools on you

You like to wear one of his shirts when going out. It’s a lot bigger on you, so you tuck it in

Going out on dates or running errands with him is an……interesting experience

Everyone still wonders how the hell he managed to pull you

[elizabeethan]

Not With Haste

An Overboard Conclusion

Oh hi, where the hell did this come from? I'm wondering the same thing. in reality, @donteattheappleshook talked to me about oarfish maybe 2 years ago and I started writing something stupid. I always intended to finish it and post it for @the-darkdragonfly's birthday, but I never found it in me to complete it. Then tonight I found that stupid thing and I finished it. You never know when that funny little creativity bug might bite, I guess.

I've always wanted to write some form of conclusion for Overboard because it's one of my favorite things that I've written. I first published Overboard way back in May of 2021, and looking back, I've grown and learned a lot and there are things I would probably do differently if I started the story over again, but I can't see myself ever editing it because I love what I wrote. Would I rewrite it into a novel and really flesh out the story and the characters? A girlie can dream, never say never, you never know when the creativity bug might bite, etc.

I hope everyone here is well, I know I am for the most part, and I'll never stop being grateful for this little community that I found all those years ago. More than that, I'll never stop being grateful for the feeling of being able to come back after a time away. It's been fun to log back in to everything and pick up where I left off as if no time has passed. (It's been so long since I've done this so if the formatting is all messed up, I'm really sorry, but I barely knew what I was doing.)

Long story short, this story is finally complete. It's barely edited and it's not beta'd, so thank you for giving it a chance.

Rated T I think

~2300 words

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Stuff

~~~~

Even after sixteen years of marriage, Killian often finds himself wondering what on earth could possibly be going through his wife’s head. 

  The thoughts of wonderment and confusion strike him at the oddest of times, always in response to something she’s said or done and never with any sort of answer. The first time he knew he was in trouble was fifteen years ago, when he returned home from a trip to find she had adopted a rottweiler. Still, Ripple refuses to retire from her post as the Jones’ Harbor Tours’ mascot, and Emma often tries to convince him that it’s because she’s as stubborn as her father. 

  In truth, Emma Jones is the most stubborn person he has ever met in his life, a fact which will likely never be contested. 

  He finds himself confused so often that he can barely recount any examples of her free spirited nature. (She calls herself a wild child, although she often shouts at him whenever he uses the term in bed.) There was the time she impulsively began tearing up the tile flooring in the bathroom after watching three whole YouTube tutorials (her words), only to sob into his already sea-soaked sweater when she realized how physically taxing reflooring an entire room is without any experience, general tiling knowledge, materials, or help. Then there was the time she randomly asked him if he would still love her if she was a worm, and then became irrationally angry when he found himself unable to answer without first asking clarifying questions. And the incident when she questioned his loyalty to her when he refused to hunt down and kill the person who bumped into her parked car and drove off. He later discovered that the question came after she had finished some romance novel about the mafia. He chose not to dig any deeper into that one.

  All this to say: Killian’s wife is a free spirit, a wild child, a confusing, strange, barely-readable woman who stole his heart in one breath and has yet to give it back almost two decades later. 

  And, he has no idea what the bloody hell she’s talking about more than half the time. 

  He wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Emma (Trophy Wife): have you ever see this??? In the wild??????

  Emma (Trophy Wife): Attached: 1 Image

  Killian: What are you doing?

  He shakes his head, as exasperated as he is filled with a warm sense of comfort, just like he always is whenever he sees the name she gave herself the moment their vows were exchanged pop onto his phone screen.

  Emma (Trophy Wife): they inhabit the atlantic ocean. *vomiting emoji*

  Killian: Stop watching National Geographic if it’s going to make you nauseous. 

  Emma (Trophy Wife): that’s where you worked!!

  Killian: That’s also where we live.

  Emma (Trophy Wife): you never saw one in your sexy fisherman days? LOOK at that thing. 

  Killian quickly discovers that she’s referring to an Oarfish. They’re the longest known bonefish and inhabit very deep water, are rarely seen or caught alive, and are thought to be generally harmless. Still, he knows that these facts will not prevent his wife from overreacting, so he chooses not to bother. 

  Though she’s always hidden it well, Emma has a strange fear of creatures of the deep, as she often calls them. She’s told him that the tuna he used to pull onto the deck of his boat didn’t bother her– even though they were often almost twice her height in length and weighed upwards of 1,000 pounds– because they were no longer in the water. But the thought of running into one of those slimy bastards while swimming gives her panicky symptoms— her words. He hasn’t bothered to point out the absolute impossibility of her ever running into a giant bluefin tuna while swimming, either. After sixteen years of marriage, he’s learned which battles are better left unfought. 

  Of course, there are times when his correcting her drives her absolutely mad, often to the point of her feeling compelled to kiss him in order to shut him up, and he navigates those moments very carefully and with a smirk on his lips. 

  Killian: They aren’t known to be predatory.

  Emma (Trophy Wife) disliked “They aren’t known to be predatory.”

  Killian: Attached: 1 Image

  Killian: You see? They have small mouths and no teeth. Harmless.

  It’s unlike her to wait so long to reply, as she’s often glued to her phone at least when she’s mid conversation. But it’s almost a full two minutes that he finds himself standing in front of the display of pasta sauce, looking like a complete fool and blocking the path of an elderly woman, breath bated as he waits for a response from her. Bloody hell, he thinks to himself as he shakes his head. He’s known the woman for eighteen years and he still can hardly breathe in anticipation of whatever adorably inane thought leaves her mouth without any sort of filter. 

  Emma (Trophy Wife): Attached: 1 Video

  Lovely. Even as he watches the attached video of her silently dry heaving, he’s desperately in love with her. He watches it again. 

  Her blonde hair has gone lighter over the years, streaks of white coloring through the gold in a way that makes her look somehow even more sexy and playful than when he first laid eyes on her. There are soft creases beside her eyes as she squeezes them shut, her mouth open and her tongue out as she pretends to be so violently offended by the image he sent her that it’s made her ill. 

  Emma (Trophy Wife): expect consequences when you get home. even if you get the good mac and cheese. 

  Emma (Trophy Wife): you KNOW how i feel about serpents and sea monsters. 

  Killian: I do. 

  Emma (Trophy Wife): … and????

  Killian: I’m sorry for traumatizing you with my serpent. 

  Killian: And for how that just sounded. 

  Emma (Trophy Wife): if you’re not home in 34 minutes i’m not touching your serpent for two whole days. 

  Killian: Well, now that I'm familiar with your gag reflex… 

  Emma (Trophy Wife): 33 minutes. 

  ~~~~

  Ripple is the oldest dog Killian has ever known. Her silver snout and eyebrows catch in the setting sun, and it’s painfully obvious from her gait how sore her joints are, but still, at his arrival home, she hurries her way towards him with as much enthusiasm as she can muster. 

  Their vet has told them that she’s the healthiest dog he’s treated in a while, considering her age, and Emma uses that as a point of pride for their perfect child. 

  “Hi, darling,” he says when she finally reaches him, her soft smile lighting up her face once he drops the reusable grocery bags in order to give her a scratch behind the ears. Killian’s getting up there in age, too, but he still manages to squat down to her level and kiss her nose. 

  The two of them make quite the pair while Killian struggles back into a standing position and then they both hobble towards the front door. His fishing career was lucrative and rewarding, but dammit if it didn’t lead to stiff joints that his wife pokes fun at. She’s never met a “my husband is older than me” joke she hasn’t loved. 

  “I’m glad you both made it,” she happily chortles from the kitchen, making him smile. He’s never smiled more widely than he does with Emma. 

  “The abuse I’m subjected to,” he mutters as he drops the bags on the floor for her to peruse. It’s a deal they made years ago; Killian does the shopping because the grocery store makes Emma too itchy, and she puts the groceries away in exchange. 

  She snorts when she pulls out the bag of goldfish, sending Killian a playful smirk. “Looks like a good haul.”

  “Aye, love. I thought you might enjoy a fishy treat after our conversation.”

  “Always so thoughtful,” she murmurs as she makes her way to him. The kitchen is small, but they’ve always had just enough space for the three of them. 

  “It’s a difficult cross to bear,” he nods, catching her wrist as soon as she’s close enough to pull towards him. “But anticipating your needs is one of the many responsibilities I take very seriously.”

  Emma’s hands land on his neck, fingers tangling with the silver hair at the back of his head while her thumbs trace along his jaw. She likes to call him a silver fox when she’s feeling playful. “My perfect husband,” she says softly, voice syrupy sweet in that way that still manages to get him excited. 

  “I couldn’t be a perfect husband without my perfect wife,” he answers, earning a beaming grin that he barely catches before her lips press to his. 

  It never ends. The way he wants her has been an inferno so intense since the day they met, and it hasn’t been snuffed out in all these years. The moment she’s near him, his blood starts to simmer, and once she touches him, kisses him like she is now, he’s a goner. 

  Her tongue is soft as it sweeps over the seam of his lips, lazily working to deepen the kiss they share. She kissed him with urgency, but not with haste, never rushing but always desperate. It’s enough to have him pushing her backwards, her lower back softly pressing against the counter before he lifts her onto it. Emma’s legs part seemingly without her even thinking about it, and before either of them have a chance to put the rotisserie chicken in the refrigerator, he wonders if he should just carry her to their room. Part of him has this never ending need to show her just how desperate he still is for her. 

  But then, she speaks. 

  “Wait,” she breathes, chest rising and falling rapidly as her warm breath fans over his mouth, her forehead still pressed to his and her fingers clinging to the collar of the light sweater he wears. 

  “Yes, love?” he asks, perfectly prepared to answer whatever silly question she likely has as long as he can have her after. 

  “About the oarfish…”

  He fights a groan. “I promise you, there is absolutely no chance of you ever seeing an oarfish for as long as you live.”

  “I know, I did plenty of research while you were gone.”

  He breathes out a soft laugh, his smile growing when she kisses it. “What’s wrong, then?”

  “Would you still love me if I was an oarfish?”

  His world stops for just a moment. Just a second, really, as he tries to right his mind and will a tiny bit of blood back to his brain so that he can answer this very unimportant and yet somehow very vital question correctly. 

  “If you were an oarfish,” he starts, hand sliding up from her hip to her ribs before finding her cheek, “then I would be an oarfish. And we would be married and have a pet… eel, perhaps. Named Ripple. And we would live in a tiny oarfish cottage and be happy and in love for as long as oarfish live.”

  Emma sighs, the softest smile on her perfect lips making him crazy as her arms wrap around his neck in one of his favorite hugs. 

  “I love you,” she whispers into his ear. He’ll never tire of this. Of the soft, almost unfathomable way that the love they have for one another strikes at the most random times. 

  “I love you, too, Swan. Always. No matter what species we are.”  

  “And I love you, no matter how much older you are than me.”

  He grabs her then, hoisting her against him to the best of his ability as her ankles cross at his back. “Disrespectful,” he murmurs, carrying her from the kitchen and happily forgetting about the frozen broccoli florets, not cuts she made him buy. 

  “You better teach me a lesson, then,” she taunts with a smirk, as if that isn’t exactly what she was after. 

  “Don’t act like that isn’t exactly what you want, love.”

  “Don’t act like you don’t get off on giving me exactly what I want.”

  To that, he just returns her smirk and offers a quick smack to her ass before dropping her onto the bed they share, because he knows she’s right. For the rest of his days, he’ll be happy, as long as he has his family. 

~~~~

I'm using my old tag list from 2 years ago. If you don't want to be tagged, I'm real sorry and let me know if I should remove you

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[yanderegrizzsworld]

Hi! Can you do a romantic Starline with a reader that enjoys randomly giving him gifts? Like flowers or random shiny stuff they have/find.

By the way, I really like the way you write <3

Imagine: Romantic Yandere Dr. Starline with a reader whose Love Language is Gift Giving

TW/CW: Implied Manipulation

You decide to bless him with a gift? Dr. Starline is almost always seen either studying arcane powers or conspiring on either Sonic or a random town/village, he'd probably seem to take pride in this fact as if the idea fuels this image of himself of a genius who only has time for his studies & progress. Yet all of that is thrown out the window the moment you present a bestowal in front of him, for him.

Whether the gift itself is either bought from a store or hand-made or something you've randomly found matters little to the platypus, what matters most to him is that you thought of him out on your daily routine & that thought alone raises his ego.

Dr. Starline makes it his personal mission to get you a gift in return, preferably hand-made & robotic, with a small touch of arcane powers in there to boost. He doesn't care if his gift can fit in your hand or can barely fit in your home, he'll explain the every single detail on it with such enthusiasm that it's to an almost contagious level.

He displays every gift you've given him in a room for his eyes only. The platypus sees no reason to show others what you've given him, the gifts were for him & therefore, are to only be seen by him. Though don't worry, he does take great care of the handsels, making sure they're cleaned/polished/dusted, especially if he knows you're coming over!

Dr. Starline doesn't get why you bestow others with your gifts, well- he does know why— he is a genius after all— but he regards your benevolence in gifts as a deed exclusive for him & him only. While he usually isn't one to be quiet about his likes & dislikes, he's intelligent enough to know that keeping his cool will give him the higher ground & so would wait until the individual(s) left & converse with you.

While the scientist values honesty & clear communications in your relationship with him, Starline is no stranger to withholding information to you as, in his eyes, it is beneficial to him the both of you. Sure, exhibits your courtesy can be a good thing & useful, but wouldn't it be better if you only sport your handsels to a singular person, like the Dr. Starline himself? With either guilt-tripping or with his charisma, Starline is sure to ensure that any future gifts come in only one direction & that's his.

[astroels]

Hi, how are you? Can you make an image or headcanon of what Ellie Williams would be like in a relationship? fem reader please, have a nice day or night

Dating Ellie

Headcannons & Imagery

A/n: Hi!! I've been well^^ this is my first request ever, so thank you, I hope I was able to fulfill what you wanted, hope you're doing good <33 (I listened to cigarettes after sex the whole time writing this)

Relationship Headcannons

Dating Ellie meant taking a bunch of time trying to finish house chores. She would help course, but was also a huge distraction. When she got tired and "took a break," it just meant she was coming to you. She'd leave kisses all over your neck while hugging you from behind. She was so sweet and comfortable, how could you say no to her?

Each anniversary, she'd write you a poem, and oh, did she know how to write. She'd put in her emotions so well, making sure they got to you. She'd make you read it when you're alone and not out loud. She loved you, but she was far too shy to have you right there in front of her.

While she accompanied you on outside work, she'd stay by your side, but far enough to get a view of you to draw. Her journals consisted of you in almost every page, anything you did, she found lovely. It was nice to see her repetitive drawing of certain features trying to get you right. You knew when Ellie was drawing you when she'd compliment a feature of yours randomly. Just a turn to look at her and there she was giving you the stupidest grin a lover could give.

Of course, Ellie is a very jealous girl by nature. Any flirtatious looks from other people set her off the scale. Although not as touchy in public, she makes sure to hold your hand or give you quick pecks to make sure everyone knows you're hers. And god, did you love being hers; her hands were calloused in the most gentle way you'd ever seen. They were perfect, and you loved when they were used to let others know you were hers.

Even in a post-apocalypse world, Ellie would try to set up romantic dinners with candles and flowers (even if they were a little crushed from her backpack). She never failed to make you feel like her true love. She had a hard time with communication, but it always ended up okay with her ability to talk in other gestures. She'd walk you to a secret spot, leading to the lights and candles placed around the pathway and a table with drinks and a meal (she took all day to prepare).

Imagery: Baking

You would be preparing all the ingredients while Ellie is coming downstairs to help you. Although you know she isn't a big baker, it's still nice to have her by your side during such a sweet moment. With every pour of an ingredient, she leaves kisses by your neck and compliments that make you flush and fall in love with her all over again. At some point, you'd playfully push her away, so you wouldn't accidently put the wrong amount of an ingredient. She'd give you one of her flashy grins and stand aside admiring your baking(and totally not just you).

While you put the pastries in the oven, she'd be washing dishes to take the load off your back. Finishing up with setting a timer, it was your turn to hug her from behind and do as she did to you before. Moments like these made life and its struggles worth it. Ellie smells fresh with scents of her earthy, woody cologne from the morning as you hug her. She'd accept your affections as you both sink in the comfort of each other. Forgetting about the dishes, Ellie would turn back around and plant a kiss on your lips to seal the moments youv'e just had.

You loved how intamite and tender Ellie was with you; Her softness always left you weak. Once the timer rung and the pastries were done, you'd both sit at the dining table to share them and any thoughts about the day. With just a moment like this with Ellie, everything felt better. It was nice having her as your love, being her love.

[gamequoteshowdown]

Quote 1: "They all helped me realize that... the 'prince charming' I was seeking for so long was actually a princess, and she wasn't as far off as I thought." - Shannon LaFae, Heart Fragment, Book 2: Belief Fragments

Quote 2: "We do not have much connection, you and I. Still, this encounter feels special. I hope you won't mind if i think of you as a friend" - Solanum, Outer Wilds

Propaganda

Quote 1: IT'S CUTE. IT'S QUEER. IT'S GAY. IT'S ABOUT HER BEST FRIEND SHE HAS KNOWN FOR 10 YEARS. Shannon LaFae is one of the most well-written characters in a well-written series. Her route is so realistic character and emotion-wise. It is angsty and romantic as hell and it will make you feel ALL the feels. The thing about Shannon is that she acknowledges all of her past relationships with ex-boyfriends and she knows that they have helped her grow as a person. SHANNON YOU ARE BEST GIRL !!! - Submitter

Quote 2:

The whole game centers around the Nomai and their sudden deaths. A whole species wiped out in an instant without rhyme or reason to reach Sol you have to go through the same tests and trials a Nomai would've taken to reach adulthood. All the while you're learning about these long dead people and how much they loved and lost. The echo they leave on the story is massive and is entirely through the writing on walls or logs they left behind. You hear about the couple separated by miles of space not knowing if the other survived. But they're dead. You follow the path the young of the dead once walked. There is a quantum moon that appears and disappears randomly landing on which is the goal of the trials. You learn what the dead once learned and are able to get onto the shifting moon and head to the place these people once worshipped. You've spent hours learning about them. You've spent hours reading the words of ghosts. Against all odds as you approach the place of worship. someone is THERE. A single Nomai who had traveled to the quantum moon to complete her trials just as the entire Nomai population was wiped. The quantum moon exists in several different states- Sol's corpse can be found on every single one but the final one where she lives. She is Schrodinger's Nomai and the only one left. You can speak to her by combining images together. The language gap is too big for proper communication. You combine the images of her and yourself. She has never met you. You have met her ghost hundreds of times. She is stained on the ruins of her people. She is their last whisper of their existence.Your people walk in the massive footprints they left behind and here you are finally meeting them. What is this meeting but special?I have 60 hours in this game. 60 hours of reaching out to the stars and learning of the pain and happiness and grief of the Nomai. What else could describe that relationship; if not 'Friend'? Anyways all this to say i let out the WILDEST sound when i saw Sol. Its dozens of hours thinking youll never meet them than BAM Sol comes into view. I cried when she called me friend. It rlly is a culmination of the whole game and the story of the Nomai - @the-silver-vessel, written in tags of first round

[theloreof-rayhasolaris]

Destiny, at last.

Rayha Solaris sits by his lonesome in the few hours before he joins the Antecedent on the relocation of the Scions’ headquarter to Mor Dhona. He offered to help them with packing, but the woman insisted he get a moment of respite for the journey ahead. There would be trouble on the way, no doubt; and he is to act as a preventive measure. This arrangement, however, leads to him for the first time being physically inactive and bored. 

Usually, he would retreat to the little hub inside his heart and talk the hours away with Luna, who always found something in his past ventures to tease or complain about. But that would mean sleeping on the job. The incident left the Waking Sands with a shortage of men guarding the doors to the Solar, so Rayha assumed their duty at the comfort of the in-house tavern.

“The new place has a tavern, too.” He randomly thinks.

Not that such a prospect excites him; he’s not a frequent drinker. In fact, for the few times Rayha had entered the tavern, he ended up walking in on others’ conversations rather than using it for its intended purpose. And perhaps he will continue doing so in this upcoming chapter of his story.

What exactly was your purpose?

A muddled voice rings out in the back of his mind.

He remembers Minfilia consulting Thancred when he was down; or Minfilia and F'lhaminn's tearful reunion; or Minfilia's genuine distraught at the thought of leaving "home". And he looks at the empty cup before him. A blank face stares back. 

"To find something like hers, I suppose." He says to no one.

"Aaaaaaaargh!!!"

A painful scream shoots through Rayha's ears. He hastily puts his angst aside and rushes to the Solar, where he finds Minfilia writhing on the floor. The Echo saves them the hassle of communication and sends the images of the event straight to his head: A man in white Ascian robe appeared from thin air, spoke in riddles, then left. Minfilia was "gifted" with a load of dark magic to the stomach for trying to detain the man. But what Rayha saw with the Echo isn't what matters.

It's what he heard.

Rayha tries to stabilize himself with his spear, not from the usual headache—he had long forgotten about it the moment that man in white spoke—but from a sensation that is wholly new to him. He feels his eyes widened, his breathing uneven, and his entire body in stitches; like his heart has stopped the entire time and circulation only returns just now. He scrambles outside, pushing past two people coming in his direction. Who are they? Are they calling after him? He knows not; for his legs keep on moving, and eventually, they carry him to the middle of Vesper Bay. 

He quickly inspects the surroundings. No hints of a man in white garment. With a heavy sigh, Rayha pushes the rim of his glasses upward to pinch the bridge of his nose. The usual head throbbing is starting to sink back in.

What was he expecting, honestly? When has an Ascian ever utilized the front door like a regular mortal? And what was he planning on doing if he actually confronted the man? He tries to recall the conversation Minfilia had with that man. He remembers hearing no words, only a voice—elegant, cold, with a hint of weariness. And his body reacted the way it did. Almost as if—

"I am told that you are the Warrior of Light.” 

Rayha wants to say that its sudden reappearance caused his soul to jump out of his body from shock for the briefest of moments. He wants to say so because he felt his heart neglected to do its job properly again. He swallows hard in a futile attempt to calm his pulse, before turning around carefully to meet his addresser. As with every other Ascian he has met, there isn't much to study from his appearance; and what is there may not even belong to the man in the first place. Still, Rayha assumes the white robe and red mask combination signifies a special position of power within their formation, one that he will have to keep an eye out for. And that he arrives at this decision with nothing but pure logical process.

"But I would know for myself.” Full lips curve into a wicked smile. "I shall walk north, and you may choose to follow. Know, however, that you will be waylaid if you do—you may even perish. Should you survive, we may speak anon.”

So it is to be a test, like the Ascian Lahabrea did before. But instead of a straightforward trial by combat, this feels more… whimsical. Whimsical, as in the folktales that peasant mothers tell their children before bedtime but end up keeping them wide awake with paranoia. Specifically the one where a predator uses its howl to lure a naive prey into its lair. If such a story hasn’t existed yet, he’ll make sure to write it down and send it to the press, after he survives this trap. His other half groans in frustration for his lack of self-preservation.

First batch, just outside a Brass’ Braves station, three imps appear. Rayha swings his spear without really thinking about it, and that was enough. His mind focuses entirely on the man of mystery he’s chasing. Why is that sight so enticing? Why does he feel like his blood boils hotter with each step he takes? Question after question, yet he bears no hope for a satisfying answer at the end of the line, knowing how the Ascians generally operate. Still he walks on.

Second encounter is a voidsent gargoyle. The abomination's body fits neatly in the tunnel way, making it impossible for passage and offering limited options to attack or evade. Rayha regrets bringing a spear today; there isn't much use for Dragoon's signature and powerful jumps in places with ceilings. He resorts to using it like a very fragile longsword against the creature's massive machetes. Thankfully, its movements are primitive, so once he spots its weak point, he makes quick work of it. It's a slightly harder fight, but not particularly challenging. As the gargoyle's body drops to the ground, he can see the path beyond, and catches the enigmatic figure standing waiting. 

Another beat goes missing. Rayha puts a hand on his chest, squeezing it tightly. 

The final round cranks up in difficulty majorly. A group of five Ascian disciples—all magical users—materializes, circling the warrior of light. Although their collective power can't even measure up to Lahabrea's weakest attack, getting dogpiled from five directions still proves to be a bit of a struggle.

"Has dark magic always stung this bad?” Rayha realizes.

Before, he was blessed with the blinding light of Mothercrystal, so he never bothered studying into arcane arts to raise magical barriers. But recently, the only voice he's able to hear is that of his other half. He takes a mental note of checking out the Arcanist Guild later, while his body adapts to the attacking pattern of each spellcaster. The muddy ground of the swamp renders his jumps a good deal less powerful, but they were enough to send them Ascians back to whatever hole they came from. He takes slow, deep breaths—masking them as exhaustion as opposed to the complicated feeling he has been carrying up to this point—and turns to the only living person left at the scene. 

"Remarkable. Truly remarkable. I thank you for granting me this indulgence. None save he who bested Lahabrea could endure such an examination.” The alluring voice sings praises. Rayha can feel his face burn, and his body tenses up. His eyes bear fiercely into the only exposed part of the other man as he closes the gap between them.

Until an arm swings across his and snaps him out of his trance.

“Have the laws of man grown so twisted in my absence that it is now permitted to lay hands upon an emissary?” The Ascian says sternly, the grin morphs into an expression more befitting of a villain.

Rayha doesn’t even realize his right hand was reaching out toward the man. He looks at it in disbelief. What was his purpose? If it was to attack or detain, why didn’t he use the spear? In fact, why is the spear on his non-dominant hand? He has an inkling that he wouldn’t like the answer if he truly thinks about it, so he gives his head a violent shake, then places his eyes on anywhere but the man’s face.

“You bore witness to my audience with the Antecedent, did you not? Then you know I acted only in self-defense.”

The Antecedent. Right, Minfilia.

“Lies. You knew that woman wasn’t capable of hurting you. It was intimidation. A warning.” Rayha retorts, sounding as neutral as ever. He feels internal relief when he sees his brain still managed to form rational thoughts, and his voice did not betray him. But he’s equally surprised that he decided to talk back at all. Despite the many instances of Rayha intruding on others’ conversations in the past, he has never actually succeeded in joining any. Mostly because—as Luna described it—he acts like a “player character.” That is, he doesn’t respond unless addressed directly. He has a mind to fix it, he just never thought that his first attempt would be with his potential mortal enemy.

"I see Lahabrea's actions must have left scars on your perception. Even amongst his breathens, he is considered… unique. Nevertheless, I cannot wholly condemn his misdeeds, for through them we discovered you—one so strong in the gift that he could cast us out.”

Rayha is unmoving before those venomous words. Yet he can’t stop his mind from wandering back to Porta Decumana, and cold sweat starts to roll. That's right, as long as I possess the gift—

"Your Mother favors you still, that much is plain. But surely, you must feel it?” It is the Ascian's turn to mend the distance. Unlike before, Rayha lets the man yank him down by the collar—close enough for skin to feel hot air grazing on all the wrong places—forcing their eyes to meet. Through the miniscule gap in the mask, he can see shimmering blue diamonds shine through. But they are muted. Jaded, even. Perhaps from the shade; perhaps from something much graver than he has had the chance to know. The man's lips part once more, and Rayha unconsciously halts his breaths. "Her influence wanes, and Her strength shall soon be spent. These lands, these people, this world—all shall soon change. As it was, so shall it be again. As it should always have been. Doubt my claims and question my motives if you will. Only believe me when I say this… I am Elidibus, emissary—bearer of the word of the one true god. And we shall meet again.”

Elidibus disappeared into nothingness, just like when he first came. Rayha tumbles forward. Though his body manages to catch itself, his mind is still spinning as it fails to process what happened. He touches the area between his mouth and cheek, feeling the still lingered heat from earlier. Then he realizes he was doing that with his left hand, which means it is no longer holding a weapon. The Gae Bolg Replica lies pathetically on the swampy ground. This is too much. He needs to sit down. 

He picks up his spear, and hopes the muscle memory leads him back to the Waking Sands. 

***

“Rayha, you have returned!” Tataru and Minfilia welcome him at the reception table. “You bolted out of the door like a mad man. It caught me and Mister Urianger by complete surprise! Then we saw Lady Minfilia on the floor. And then you didn’t come back for so long, we were thinking of sending everyone of our personnel out on a search. And then, and then—”

“Calm yourself, Tataru. We wouldn’t want to overwhelm Rayha now, would we?” Minfilia looks at them both with a soft, caring smile. One wouldn’t believe that she was heavily injured just a while ago if they hadn’t witnessed it themself. The Antecedent may not be a physically powerful individual, but her mental strength is all that and much more. That is why so many confided in her.

Rayha holds his head low, and whispers a quiet “Sorry.”

Minfilia, being the understanding leader that she is, notices the distress on Rayha’s fabricated calm demeanor.

“Are you alright? Your face is all pale.”

“...”

“Ah. Perhaps this space is not in keeping with such a conversation. Would you like to accompany me back to the Solar?”

Rayha takes up on her offer and heads straight downstairs, without waiting for the woman to lead the way. She is kind. She won’t ask for too many details. He tells himself. But he knows he will have to answer why he left them the way he did. He settles for the first theory he can come up with during the short trip to the Solar.

The doors shut.

“Relax, Rayha, this is not going to be an interrogation.” She eases him into the talk. “The Echo must have shown you all you needed to see, and you chased down that vile man for us. That was very diligent of you, and I am personally grateful for it too. But it was also extremely reckless.”

“...I understand.”

“Pray, don’t take it the wrong way. We consider you a cherished friend of ours. We only hope that you take care of yourself the same way you did for us.”

“I get it, Minfilia. I do.” Rayha cuts in, still refusing to make eye contact. “It’s just… There’s more to it. I think.”

“Oh? If it is alright with you, then I would like to hear more.” says Minfilia. 

Rayha retells the events occuring in the period of his absence, carefully leaves out the situation with his destabilizing psychological condition, or the more innocuous details. Like the hand that reached out and got rejected. Or the fiery breaths that met his skin. 

Stop trying to remember it. He curses himself for letting mere thoughts create a knot in his stomach. 

“Mothercrystal’s influence… weakens…?” Minfilia comments after hearing Rayha’s story. “And do you agree with this Elidibus man? With Her blessing flowing so strongly through you, I must assume you would be the first to notice any irregularities or changes.” 

“I won’t be shocked to find out that my rash decision of entering a clear trap from the Ascians was the result of a tempering.”

The room falls into silence. Rayha doesn’t answer her question, yet his response implies numerous things. He doesn’t even know if that’s how the Echo or the Ascians work, but it’s the only explanation that makes sense to him. Why else would one man, who revealed nothing but his voice and name, be occupying so much of his mind?

“...We will need to conduct more investigation on this Ascian Elidibus.” Minfilia breaks the ice. She puts a hand on Rayha’s shoulder, in a reassuring gesture, and continues. “But that is a matter for another day. Right now, I think you deserve a good rest. I will have others take care of whatever else needs to be done before we officially move to Mor Dhona.”

“Am I dismissed?” Rayha asks meekly, eyes finally looking at hers.

“You are free to go, always.”

Not yet. Rayha thinks to himself as he leaves the dreaded Vesper Bay.

***

He expected a stern, dismissive look. He expected loud and rapid foot tapping. But looking at him is a face of barely contained grin and mischievous excitement. A happy Luna is more unnerving than an angry one, because the latter is a justified reaction to the antics he got them into. Happy Luna, however, likes to keep the fun to herself. She knows something he doesn't, and she is not likely to help. 

He diverts his attention to the space around her. How that his heart manifested as an ever shifting house is still a secret to him, but he often enjoys going back and seeing all the things about it that changed. This isn’t one of those days. The room that once had furniture modeled after the primals he had defeated be proudly displayed is now wiped empty, not unlike the first time he and his other half officially met; Save for a single flight of stairs pointing downward.

“It’s a basement.” Luna says, unable to hide the glee in her voice. “We’re not gonna check it out yet. I’ve got some questions to ask first. For one: Why did you tell the Antecedent you were tempered, knowing full well what her organization will do to the victims?”

“Because that’s the truth? At least, that’s what I think it is. If I tell them the truth, they might find a way to remedy it.” He replies with his signature blank stare. 

Luna returns in kind, as she throws a sneer at him. “Do you honestly believe it’s your truth?”

“You would know if I lied.”

“Oh, for sure. You’re not lying. But I’ll tell you what you’re doing right now: You’re rationalizing. You’re making up an acceptable reason on the surface, so you can bottle up your true source of trouble down below.” Luna taps her tiptoe on the floor, as if to illustrate her point by pointing to the newly created expansion. Then she beckons him with her index and middle fingers. He follows, reluctantly.

The door to “the back of his mind” is a bulky iron one, almost like that of a jail cell. And Luna somehow has the key to it. She dangles it in front of him, but never says explicitly what she wants him to do next. Unfortunately, he’s not in the mood for her games today. He takes it from her hand. 

The door swings open, accompanied by a loud and drawn out creak. Beyond, darkness over looming.

“Step in. You won’t feel it from here.” Luna commands.

He swallows hard before complying. 

Nary a second has passed since Solaris entered that a wave of noise starts assaulting his ears. He can’t make out a single word but he knows exactly what they are: The voice of the Ascian repeating their conversation, stacking on top of each other. Then, as his eyes adjust, he can see vague shapes of the man in white robe phasing in and out of existence. Some just stand there menacingly, some make the same motions as he remembers, while others act out entirely on their own. Suddenly, Solaris drops on all four. He senses the air getting thinner and the temperature rising. He can hear himself puffing, feeling his body sweating profusely. And in a blink of an eye, that man takes form right below him, with his back on the floor, sporting the same playful expression. The illusion wraps his arms around Solaris’s neck, fake claws digging slightly into flesh as they pull him in closer and closer—

Another hand yanks him out of the room, with much aggression.

“Already giving in after a minute. Unbelievable.” Luna shrugs in an exaggerated manner. She stops to look at the sad, helpless boy on the floor, before delivering the final blow “You’re smiling.”

That revelation near petrifies him. It’s true. He can physically feel the muscles in his cheeks bend into something else upon hearing those two words. He bets he looks bright red, too.

“Was it… like that, for you?” Solaris utters through bated breath.

“Excluding the ‘nearly making out’ part, yes.”

“Then I was right. We’re tempered!” 

That comes out a bit more defensive than he has hoped. And it earns him a flick on the forehead from Luna. 

“Can’t I say I approve of your attitude but there are things in life that are better left for self retrospection.” She leaves Solaris to his personal purgatory, but doesn’t forget to get the last word in “Lock it away, or spend the rest of your immaterial existence inside it. Know that you will not have my aid; be it physical intervention or emotional counseling. So struggle, O prisoner of your own heart.”

***

In that one minute, I saw his body being slowly enveloped by darkness.

I thought of letting it consume him whole.

What would happen had I done it? Would he be lost forever in his own body? Would I have “Rayha” for myself or would I suffer the same fate?

One thing is certain: He is becoming the type that I can’t help fawning over. Maybe that’s why I’m here. To witness his triumph, or his downfall in the most direct way possible.

For the first time, I am entertained.

[upsidedownsmore]

ENTRIES CLOSED, reblogs turned off, thank you everyone for entering and sharing your wonderful works!!

A compilation of every entry piece can be found here!

The winner is @infestedslime and they have accepted the prize!

For transparency, the original winner was @civicrose but it had been done out of only 20 entries because I had forgotten to record @zero-two-one 's entry into the spreadsheet and only realized the following morning. The new roll was done out of the actual 21 entries, I'm extremely sorry for the confusion from this bad mistake!!

Roll proof:

The full entry spreadsheet can be found here! (it's also buried below the cut somewhere but I thought I should put it up here too lol)

Just like last time I'm super happy with how this event has turned out!! Thanks again to everyone who entered and made this a fun time!! Again, I am very sorry for messing up the entry records for the initial rolling.

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PROTEA PRIME ACCESS GIVEAWAY! *

* Provided by Digital Extremes! Info about the prime access here.

To enter, simply reblog with your art of any warframe playing a sport!

Giveaway entries will close and the winner will be randomly chosen on May 25TH at 10:00pm CST

The post for the above drawing (with reference screenshot and wips) can be found here!

More info under the cut, PLEASE READ IT IF YOU WANT TO ENTER!

(rules are the same as the gauss prime access giveaway I did back in February, just a slightly different art prompt! You can find that giveaway post here for reference)

Notes:

This is not a contest! The winner will be decided entirely randomly, art quality will have no effect on chances of winning! Make whatever you can in any medium you want! (not including unedited captura/game screenshots)

Please submit your own art!! Do not use any AI generation tools for your entry.

Only one entry per person, you will not get more entries for additional reblogs and/or drawings.

The goal of this is for the community to make a fun little gallery of warframe art in the reblogs, but don't stress over how "good" your drawing is! As long as you have fun and submit something vaguely in line with the prompt you're good! (You can find previous giveaway galleries here!)

You do not need to engage with me in any other way (likes, follows, etc.) to enter, just a reblog with art loosely following the prompt! The only way to submit images under a single post on Tumblr is through reblogs, but please know that I do not intend this to be a means of promotion. If people could submit images in the replies I would gladly take that option!

If you have any feedback about the giveaway please let me know!

Here are some example submissions that would all work, but of course whatever you want to make doesn't have to be limited to this!

I will be assigning one unique number per individual and then throwing them into the random number generator on random.org. (Edit: you can find the spreadsheet with info on each entry here!) After the entries close and I roll the winner, I will update this post with the winner's name and a message saying that the giveaway is closed. Reblogs will also be turned off once the giveaway is closed, as I am only using reblogs as means of congregating drawing submissions under one post during the giveaway period.

Whoever's number get's chosen will be contacted via DMs here on Tumblr, so please make sure your DMs are open! I will be asking for your Warframe IGN and platform so DE can give send over your prize! If you have cross-save linked or merged then please tell me, though I will also be asking in DMs as well. If the winner doesn't respond within 24 hours or no longer wants the prime access pack, then I will roll a new winner with the same method but with the previous winner(s) number(s) taken out of the pool.

Topmost drawing without the giveaway text:

Trailer scene reference:

Good luck and most importantly have fun!! :)

[charlotte-e-carpenter]

Signals: How Video Transformed the World

I was really impressed by the Signals exhibit at MoMA, so much so that I decided to purchase the accompanying exhibition catalogue to dive further into the works on display and gain some context for the overall curation. In the foreword, I was surprised to learn that Signals is actually the largest exhibition of video at the museum to date, though MoMA has been presenting works of video art since 1968. When I first entered the exhibition, I felt slightly overwhelmed by all the eye-catching screens begging for my attention, a feeling that mimics the way media operates more generally in our social media-driven attention economy. I had to be very intentional about taking each work in one-at-a-time and reading all provided text to really understand the overall theme guiding the exhibition. There seemed to be a general trajectory of video as it grew alongside and in opposition to broadcast television, and later to video's deployment in the era of smartphones and social media. Throughout the show, issues of surveillance, the utopian potential of video, and the way documentation shapes historical memory seemed to be particularly relevant. The catalogue argues that video is essentially part of the air we breathe:

  "Video is everywhere and nowhere at once. It surrounds us as signals and waves and data flows, but it remains ephemeral, shape-shifting, endlessly dispersed and dislocated... Video has arguably become the dominant mode of communication."

  I thought Signals was very effective at conveying this sense of video as an omnipresent force in modern life, but also as a medium ripe for artistic interventions. One of the pieces that left a big impression on me was Dara Birnbaum's Tiananmen Square: Break-In Transmission. In this five channel video installation, Birnbaum repurposes televised footage of the events surrounding the student-led, pro-democracy movement in Beijing in 1989. The extent of what I know about this historical moment can be summed up by the famous "Tank Man" photograph. In the photo, a protestor stands in front of a line of tanks exiting the square after a violent crackdown on protestors. Internationally, it is considered one of the most iconic photos of all time. While the photo certainly captures a powerful moment, it almost erases other memories of the protests through its very ubiquity. I think Birnbaum was attempting to push against this tendency to accept a single perspective on history by instead offering images that are fractured, slowed-down and difficult to process. The four LCD Screens the images play on are so tiny that you have to stand very close to them in order to see. From the catalogue, I found out that the fifth monitor randomly samples images from the four monitors through a surveillance switcher. Taken together, the work asks us to re-consider events that were poorly understood by Americans and suppressed by the Chinese state. Even though TV broadcast may have given us access to these images, what meaning was able to be garnered from them? What lessons were learned? How is history altered by visual documentation? This last question in particular lingered with me long after my visit.

[cadyrocks]

Fine. "Discourse" beneath the cut.

There's just a "goblin war horn". Made of long, curved horn. Dated to a 1612 "goblin uprising", which randomly coincides with the 1612 Fettermilch uprising, a Jewish uprising that led to a pogrom. Specifically cited as being used to "annoy witches and wizards", an old and long-lasting antisemitic trope about Jewish calls to prayer. In a game in which the enemies are hook-nosed goblins who run the banks and kidnap children.

Am I being unfair here in pointing to this and saying, "Wow, they really put some thought into how antisemitic that shit was", just because the horn isn't a 1:1 scale model of this image?

I really don't think I'm being particularly unfair here.

This kind of "plausible deniability" is how most effective bigots operate. They don't just say the quiet part out loud. They weave in dog whistles and little hints - the kind of thing that looks really bad but which can, at least in theory, be disputed.

Maybe the date of 1612 was an unhappy coincidence. Maybe "this exists primarily to annoy witches and wizards" was unintentionally tapping into old antisemitic tropes and wasn't meant to draw any parallels. Hell, it's probably just a coincidence that the short paragraph of flavor notes that this instrument played by obvious antisemitic caricatures was found behind the "Hog's Head" tavern, and stuffed with a non-kosher cheese. Anyone bringing that up is clearly just grasping at straws and can't be taken seriously. They're just seeing nazis on every corner. They're, as you put it, "You People".

This barely plausible deniability is a tactic of fascist movements. They want you to see people outraged about coded bigotry and dismiss them.

Contra put it well in 2017:

Aren’t you in fact just a paranoid leftist who thinks everyone is a Nazi? Well, that’s what they want you to think! They benefit from the confusion and the appearance that the left is paranoid. [...]

But this paranoia, self-doubt, and questioning of your own perception is the psychological consequence of being constantly gaslit by fascists who pretend not to be fascists and communicate in code. And it’s the intentional consequence of that. Gaslighting is just another tool in the fascist’s psychological arsenal.

So maybe all the people who have pointed out how insanely antisemitic this is are overreacting and grasping for straws, and the developers meant nothing by it. Or maybe the fact that the game features antisemitic caricatures as its primary antagonists and a plot to kidnap a wizard child and use their blood in a ritual should make us stop giving the developers the benefit of the doubt when antisemitic shit shows up in their game. This horn may not look exactly like a shofar, but it fits perfectly into the laundry list of antisemitic garbage in this game.

Fucking rationalists, man. Absolute goddamn clowns when it comes to dealing with bad faith rhetoric. Or maybe "You People" is more appropriate. (You should pause for a moment and think about what that means in the context of this post. How talking about "You People" when responding to a Jewish trans woman might be read while giving an exasperated defense of the Blood Libel game.)

Why did I just spend way too long writing this?

so there's two ways to interpret this

there's the idea that playing this game is inherently an endorsement of JKR's transphobic politics and its success is a sign of how mainstream transphobia is - this is a point of view that both JKR herself and a whole lot of people on tumblr have endorsed

but there is another interpretation, which is that the entire intense culture war around harry potter is really only visible to the very online, and many people who aren't transphobic bought this game simply because they aren't aware of or don't particularly care about this discourse. i think this is the more accurate interpretation, and also a far less demoralizing one

also like. not to rub it in, but trying to organize an ad hoc boycott through angry tumblr posts was only ever going to be a huge waste of everyone's time and energy. if you want to spend your days discoursing about harry potter, that is your prerogative, but don't, like, confuse yourself into imagining you are Doing Politics

[theloveablesociopath]

My Creature

Chapter 1: The Agreement

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem reader

Summary: Eddie is attacked by a creature while in hiding, soon realizing this “thing” isn’t what it seems to be.

Authors note: I hope y’all like this, it came to me randomly and I really like the idea of a strong scary creature that only Eddie knows their true colors. Let me know what you think comments are very appreciated. Ps: I’m dyslexic but I tried really hard with grammar so go easy on me.

Reader notes:

reader is a succubus type monster, very little language and communication skills are left in her brain, but as time goes on she will become more verbal.

Eddies POV

——-

I feel like Iv been hiding for days at this point, but what the fuck am I supposed to do, one minute I’m here, one minute I’m not. My brain is in complete and udder shambles and I feel like I’ve lost my mind. God maybe I have… she was right there… Chrissy and then she… god no please don’t think about it anymore, I just want to forget!

They’re coming for me… I need to find someplace to hide any place where they can’t just pop in on me. Reefer Rick… I know he’s not home I know his house is empty and honestly I don’t really have much of a choice.

So here I am.. breaking into his house like some sort of fucking psycho. At least I’ll be safe…

—————————————————————

Third POV —

——————————————-

A very shaken and tired Eddie finally found himself rummaging threw his friends house trying to find a place safe enough to hide, but it seemed like every room had to many windows, and every closet was to closed off to run from danger. Which finally led him to seeing the cascade of a small flood light coming from an old boat shed outside.

He made his way out back, jumping from shadow to shadow, as if he was scared of the moon light itself. He quickly ran from the dark siding of the house to the shed door, and forced himself in, desperate to keep out of eyesight. The moon light reflecting off the water sending a low sheen of blue around the room. Cluttered with tarps and tools.

He felt his body sink down against the wall, as his eyes flooded with his fears.

“God… oh my god.” He muttered to himself. Grabbing the sides of his head as he caved in on his body. Images of what he had just seen flashing in his mind over and over again. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? He questioned, sobbing into his knees, defeated. He couldn’t run, he couldn’t really hide, he could only wait, wait for someone to find him, and accuse him of the unthinkable.

A loud rustle from under a tarp immediately silenced his sorrows, his breath hitching in his throat.

He braced the wall behind him, slowly bringing himself to his feet as he reached for the nearest thing he could find, an old ratchet laying against the window seal.

The rustling continued, small frantic jerks from under the tarp lain over the small boat in the center of the room.

“S-show yourself.” He spoke, but it came out more like a fearful stutter. Rather then the warning he wanted.

The rustling got louder, before stopping all together accompanied by a low growl.

An animal maybe? Eddie thought, raising the wrench in his hand as he circled the boat, before coming to a stop at the small opening in the tarp.

Two eyes where barley visible against the moon light but where outlined by the shape of a face and (H/C) hair, poking out from the edges of the tarp.

Eddies eyes widened as he studied the persons eyes, void of any white, just pitch black orbs. He looked a little too long, not giving himself time to think as the person sprung out from under the tarp, leaping in the air with a low growl and slamming down on his chest. His back hit the concrete, grunting and realizing his only weapon had been knocked to the side. His eyes glanced up, face to face with the person he had seen. A girl? He thought. But he wasn’t quite sure, her mouth sat agape, flashing snarling sharp teeth at him as she all but screeched. Spewing saliva against his skin, her pitch black eyes boring into him nearly frantic as they searched his features. He could feel sharp claws digging themselves into the flesh on his shoulders, causing him to wince in pain.

He shifted his eyes down, glancing at her scuffed and tattered clothes, a ripped red T-shirt and torn jeans, and no shoes to be seen.

The fear in him building as he realized this girl, this creature, had him pinned helplessly in place.

“P-Please.” Eddie spoke. “Please don’t.” His voice breaking with every word, not realizing the tears that started to spill over his cheeks, running down the sides of his face.

The girl looked puzzled for a moment, her eyes studying his every move, before slowly shutting her mouth and gazing at the tears that gushed from his now closed blood shot eyes.

When he finally opened his eyes to look at her again, he noticed the black had started to retreat into her pupils, the whites of her eyes coming back to take over until she was left with two large oversized black irises. He felt the claws on his shoulders slowly diminish until it felt more like the normal harsh grip of a person. The girl slowly began to back up off of him until she crouched low in front of him.

He scrambled backwards propping himself against the wall again and grabbing another random object from the floor, this time a metal pole and sticking it out in caution.

“Sorry.” Her voice came out as a whisper, raspy and raw like she had been screaming for years.

“W-who are you.” He demanded, his hand shaking as he pointed his weapon at her.

“Sorry.” She repeated. Backing away slightly on her knees.

“What do you want?!” He yelled, “and don’t fuck with me ok, I don’t know what this shit is, if your human or not human, but Iv seen some shit in the last several hours so I’m not waiting around to find out ‘ight!!” His breathing was rapid, as he tried hard to keep a steady grip on the only thing between him and this strange creature. She stared at him, eyes wide and but seemingly calm, as she shifted to look out into the lake, before returning to stare at him.

“Hungry.” She said lowly. Barley above a whisper and still blank as she stared.

“Hungry? Hungry. Right we’ll I’m not your fucking meal so take whatever you came here for besides a fucking piece of me, and leave.” He shakenly stated. Eyes completely fixed on her every move.

She looked up at the night sky again before looking back at him and suddenly standing. Eddie watched welding his weapon as she moved the side of the wall, looking up at a small side skylight and down at him again. She sighed, eyes flooding with pigment like an ink soaked page, before launching herself up the metal, and crawling up and out the window. He waited for a moment, shaking violently from fear before realizing she wasn’t coming back.

“What the fuck.” He whispeared to himself. “What the fuck, what the fuck was that.” He hit the sides of his head with his hands, feeling the sobs tear through his heart once again as he balled in on himself on the dusty old concrete floor. The fear and adrenaline of the days events soaking into his mind.

It felt like hours had gone by, the night dragging along at an agonizingly slow pace, he slowly felt himself drift away into a much needed sleep, crumbled by his exhaustion.

His dreams filled themselves with images of chrissy, her body, her arms… her eyes…. Torturing him at every corner of darkness he tried so desperately to find peace in.

Yet before his emotions came to swallow him while, the sound of thudding metal shook him awake. He frantically grabbed onto the metal pipe again, jumping into a croached position. His eyes finally adjusting to the dark of the room as he noticed a figure climbing down from the wall. It was her again, creeping along the floor on all fours, something swaying around her mouth. His breathing started to get rapid, fear came barreling back to his heart. As she got closer, his ring clad fingers, gripped fearfully to the metal pipe.

“What the fuck do you want now?!” He yelled, his voice shaking.

The moon faintly illuminated her as she crouched in front of him. As he soon made out the details of blood and fur notched between her jaws. His eyes went wide, horror written on his face. She inched as close as she could to him, before dropping what was in her mouth, her teeth stained red from the liquid. He looked down, stomach turning at the dead squirrel in front of him.

“What. The. Fuck.” He whispeared, eyes clicking up to her face, smeared blood around the corner of her lips, her eyes dark and soulless as before.

“Hungry.” She stated. Backing up slightly to give him room.

“Hungry…? hungry.. oh.” And then it clicked. This creature, this thing, this girl. Was trying to FEED HIM?

“Uhhh… thank you… I guess.”

She nodded slowly, seeming to wait for him to do something.

What the hell do you do in this situation. He can’t actually eat this dead fucking squirrel, and if he refused it was she going to.. I don’t know EAT HIM???!

Eddie took a deep breath.

“I… I don’t,..eat this… stuff. If that makes sense.?” He pushed the squirrel Aside with his shoe, glancing up to see if she would attack him. But she sat, quietly, her eyes slowly glazing back to normal.

“I- I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong, I just. Uh Can’t. Eat it, you understand?”

She nodded. Raising a hand to scratch her dirt caked and hair matted scalp.

“O’kay… we’ll then, uhh..” he looked around. Wondering what to do now that he was sitting by a dead squirrel with a fucking monster girl creature sat across from him.

He didn’t have much time though because in another second she had lunged forward, scaring the shit out of him as he raised his metal pole, closing his eyes expecting the impact before hearing a loud sloppy crunch. He opened one eye, watching as the girl began to chow down on the creature, tearing at it and swallowing everything whole.

He sighed, getting up from the floor and running a hand through his hair.

“Ok. So am I like, fine with assuming that your not gonna eat me? Or kill me? Or tear the flesh off me as I sleep? Because I’m reallllllly tired of feeling like I’m gonna die every second of my life.” He knew he was basically ranting to himself but he thought he’d give it a try. The girl stared up at him, finishing off the bloody pile of fur and nodding.

“Yes.” She stated.

“Oh.. ok so you can understand me? You know what I said? Your not gonna eat me?” He asked again.

“Yes.” She repeated.

“Ok… ok good. God I am going insane.” He began pacing lightly.

“So Iv decided that your either real, or a figment from my nightmares come to haunt me and honestly I don’t know which is worse so.” He threw his hands in the air, “im just gonna say, fuck it. Let’s just chill with the squirrel eating, feral half orc whatever the fuck you are,… I guess.” He scratched the bag of his neck groaning in frustration. “Jesus h Christ, I’m a psychopath, a mental case, holy fuck.” He sat down on a small milk create beside him, running his hands down his face. In the silence of the room, he could hear a small laugh, barley loud enough to catch. His eyes shot up to look at her. The smallest smile visible on her face.

“Are… are you laughing at me?” He asked.

She nodded back.

“Ok… getting laughed at by a monster, that’s a first, so… uh look if your gonna stay… what’s your name? Who are you?” He motioned out with his hands earning complete silence from her. “Do you have anything you go by or?”

She thought for a moment before her eyes perked up. She stood, walking toward him and sitting in front of him.

“(Y/n)” she said. Softly. Reaching a hand out to him.

He laughed through his nose, nearly sounding like a scoff. She was really wanting to shake hands?

“Eddie.” He returned, cautiously shaking her hand back.

She nodded, looking around the room and back at him.

“Ok so one thing, (y/n), if your gonna stay with me, you gotta wash your face off , ight’ it’s just really hard to believe your not gonna rip off my flesh, with that much blood around your mouth. Ok?”

She gave a Kurt nod before bringing her hands up to whip at her face. Eddie quickly realizing she was doing nothing but smearing it around.

“Ok. Ok. Stop.” He said, looking around “uhhh. Ah ok.” He grabbed an old rag off a shelf to his side, as soon as he spotted it, and dipped the corner in the lake beside him. He sighed again, throwing precautions to the wind as he motioned to her to approach him. “Come here.” He commanded. She looked worried, eyeing him with slight fear and looking around.

“Listen, if I was gonna hurt you I would have already ok? We have an argument right? Don’t eat me, I won’t hurt you. Now come here.” He motioned again. Finally receiving a small nod as she crawled the short distance to sit between his legs. She looked up at him, her oversized black eyes, watching his every move.

He reached out, grabbing the side of her face as she tried slightly to pull away before relaxing, he lifted the old rag and began slowly whipping away at the nearly crusted blood against her cheeks and lips.

“You know, not to be rude, but your eyes are kinda fucking scary.” He joked.

She let a small nervous smile show on her lips.

After she was cleaned up, she moved back again to sit away from him.

Eddie looked around, yawning and rubbing at his eyes.

“Ok listen, I’m gonna sleep over there, you stay out here, and maybe even keep watch if your up for it? Ok?” He asked. She nodded in response.

“God you don’t talk much do you?��� Earning a head shake from her.

He sighed getting up and slowly making his way to the small boat. Hunkering down in it.

“Ok…. Uh.. Goodnight. Remember our deal ok?” He confirmed, as she nodded again.

At this point he was all but convinced he lost his mind, in no other case would he ever fall asleep with a strange creature girl thing just a few feet away from him, but all sanity had flown out the window for him, as he drifted off to sleep.

His eyes snapped open to the sound of a door opening and voices in the air around him.

What the fuck, wheres the demon girl thing, when you need her? He started to realize they where discussing him, looking for him. Oh god, oh fuck. Shit shit shit, he gripped on to what was around him, fumbling quietly with a bottle that layed beside him. He heard the voices get louder, and the clanking around him filled his head. It all happens so quickly it was like a blur, befor he found himself pinning a man against the wall with the bottle broken in his hands.

He could barley hear as dustin called his name, trying desperately to reason with him.

“He won’t. Hurt you. Eddie.” Dustin repeated.

“Why are you here?!” Eddie spat out.

“We’re looking for you.” Dustin replied, his hands up in caution as he approached him.

After several pleas Eddie finally released the man in his grip, moving backwards and slumping down against a wall.

“We. Just. Want. To talk.” Dustin stated reaching for the bottle in Eddie’s hands as he jerked back in fear.

“Ok….Hey hey… it’s Ok…. We just wanna talk.” Dustin repeated. Until Eddie finally released his grip on the glass.

His cheeks bloomed with tears as the images came flooding back to his head.

He finally began to explain the details of the night before, barley able to shake the words from his tongue as fear laced into his eyes.

“You all think I’m crazy right?”

“No. We don’t think your crazy at a-”

“Don’t bullshit me man! I know how this sounds.”

“We’re not bullshitting you.”

“We believe you.”

“Look-“ Dustin started before the sound of scraping metal sent everyone’s eyes scattered around.

Eddie turned his head at the familiar sound, shifting around before he caught site of her. threw the corner of his vision, she began crawling down the side of the wall behind them. Slamming her self on the ground before running on all fours and leaping straight for Dustin. Robin and navy jumping away in terror.

Shit. He thought. It wasn’t a dream.

Eddie stood up quickly eyes wide.

Steve grabbed the ore beside him wielding it, as (y/n) crashed down on top of Dustin, pinning him to the floor, her sharp teeth showing as she screeched at the boy underneath her. Dustin screamed in fear, the rest of the group yelling curses and scrambling to find items to fight with.

Steve held up his ore lifting it above him.

“WAIT! WAIT WAIT!!” Eddie yelled.

Steve stopped, breath jagged and fearful.

Dustin crying beneath the creature.

“(Y/n).” He spoke softly. Looking at her, claws embedded in Dustin’s chest.

“(Y\n) it’s ok. They’re with me. Ok? Understand.” He reached out, as she looked up at him. Growling, as whatever animals blood she had been eating dripped from her chin.

Steve’s fear got the best of him as he slammed the ore down on her back, causing a loud shriek to cascade from her mouth, as she turned and lunged at the man.

“Fuck! (Y/n) no no no!” Eddie ran around Dustin, grabbing onto her torso as her mouth nearly missed the side of Steve’s arm.

Eddie pulled her back holding her in his grip.

“Dude! I said wait!” Eddie yelled.

“Wait?! What is that thing! It could’ve have killed Dustin!” Steve screamed back.

(Y/n) struggled in Eddie’s grip, snarling up at the group.

“She wouldn’t have! Ok!” Eddie yelled back. Tightening his arm around her.

“(Y/n).” He stated “(y/n) calm down ok? Listen.” He breathed slowly, backing up with her. “Part of our argument included my friends ok?. It’s fine. They’re not gonna hurt you.” He looked at the ore beside Steve, sighing.

“Well not anymore, ok it was an accident. Just. Just calm down ok?” He talked quietly, as the others watched in worry.

She began to slow her protests in his arms, settling herself and looking up at him.

“Friends?” She asked.

“Yes. Yes friends ok? Not a threat. Now calm.” He demanded.

She slowly retracted her teeth, closing her mouth and breathing deeply as her eyes returned to almost normal.

“There you go… good girl.” He stated, feeling almost stupid treating her like some sort of animal. But I mean… she wasn’t really all that human either.

Dustin scrambled to his feat, fear and confusion in his wide eyes.

“Eddie what the fuck! Is that thing?” He asked.

“Ok.. ok I know how this looks. But SHE, is just uh…. A friend I made.. while in hiding. Ok?” He answered.

“A friend?!” Max yelled.

“Yes! Ok. She’s uh…. I don’t actually know. But she won’t hurt you ok. She’s just scared, and probably thought I was in trouble.” He stated.

“Yeah… yeah right ok. We’ve, defiantly dealt with weirder.” Robin said.

“She wouldn’t have attacked, this guy.” Eddie pointed at Steve. “If he would have just put the ore down.”

“Hey! Like I said! I was scared for Dustin!” Steve answered.

“We’ll all it did was hurt her and make her mad! Next time just let me handle it!” Eddie still had a light grip around her as she watched around the room.

“Ok! Ok. Eddie, who the hell is this? You’ve never mentioned her before.” Dustin asked.

“Well uh…” Eddie shifted his eyes. “I kinda just like… found her the other day… but it’s fine ok… she’s fine.”

“You just met her! And you trust she won’t fucking tear us apart!” Steve yelled.

“Listen! I know how it seems ok. But trust me. She’s fine. We have an agreement.”

“An agreement?!” Nancy questioned.

“Yes! An agreement! Right (y/n)? I don’t hurt you, you don’t hurt me. Ya?” He looked down at her as she nodded slowly.

“Yes.” She stated.

Eddie finally dropped the arm he had wrapped around (y/n), so she could stand up properly.

“Ok… so now that everyone’s done yelling!” Eddie shouted.

“(Y/n) this is Dustin, and red and their friends.” Eddie motioned.

She slowly walked over to Dustin, his demeanor tensing.

“Dustin.” She said extending a hand to him.

He flinched at her, looking down at the hand before cautiously extending his own.

“Uh. Yes.” He replied shaking it quickly before retracting himself, eyes wide looking at the blood still smeared on her face.

“She literally still has blood on her face Eddie.” Max questioned, causing Eddie to grimace.

“Oh right.” He said. “Look I promise it’s not human, she like… uh eats animals or somthing… (y/n) come here.” He commanded causing her to walk over to him quickly, as he used to corner of his sleeve to start whipping away at her mouth.

The group watched in complete confusion.

“I’m sorry… she eats animals?! Like… live ones?! Like she catches them?!” Nancy questioned.

“I mean… like technically we do to right?” Eddie quirked a brow causing Dustin’s face to drop.

“Dude she just comes when you call her?” He asked completely changing the subject.

“Uhhh yeah kinda I-“ Eddie’s started.

“Like a pet?” Steve questioned.

“No. No man, not like that she just-“ eddie tried again.

“Like an attack dog.” Dustin stated, eyes wide in awe.

“Dude no. Listen. She just, trusts me I don’t know.” He finally said.

“How do you know? I mean didn’t you just meet her?” Robyn asked.

“I - I just do! I mean it seems like it ok?”

Eddie argued with the group as (y/n) stood shifting her eyes to each of them.

“So what are you just gonna keep her around? Let her follow you?” Nancy asked from across the room, eyeing Eddie.

“Uhh.. I mean. She’s not hurting anyone.”

“She could!” Steve interjected.

“She won’t!” Eddie shouted back.

“I mean the least we could do is get her some new clothes and clean her up? She looks like she crawled out of a sewer.” Max mentioned,

“Ok fine, fine, Eddie just makes sure she doesn’t hurt anyone ok?” Dustin stated, putting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie looked at him and back over to the dirty quite girl looking around in confusion.

“She won’t. I know she won’t .” He replied quietly, glancing over at her with a small smile.

[catwithangerissues]

𝐇𝐪 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞.

🌿 Hello! First post since the break baby! V glad to be back. Let’s start it off well, shall we?

-We all are brutally aware of the lack of representation in different fandoms and their writings- and while the Haikyuu fandom has been nothing but good to me personally, I thought making a mini series out of this could be a neat idea. The basic idea is take a hq character and write about the things they would do to help out/cheer up a significant other with a certain condition or disability.

- I marked each of the ones that personally affect me in my day to day life in case you’re interested.

- These are ways the hq characters HELP THEIR SO. This does not mean they treat them differently or lesser than others. Keep that in mind- scrubs.

- This by no means whatsoever fully encompasses what it’s like for any party involved to be in these romantic relationships- however, I do experience some of these conditions in my personal day to day and thought I did pretty well at writing those specifically. This does not mean I didn’t make mistakes in the rest, however. Please leave CONSTRUCTIVE AND NOT BLATANTLY RUDE CRITICISM if that’s the case. I did not intend to offend anybody, so keep that in mind.

Characters: Tendou Satori, Kita Shinsuke, Iwaizumi Hajime, Osamu Miya, Bokuto Koutaro, Hinata Shoyo, Tsukishima Kei, Sugawara Koushi, Suna Rintaro, Kuroo Tetsuro

Genre: Fluff/comfort

Warnings: mentions of blindness, deafness, eating issues, depression, anxiety, chronic migraines, wheelchair use, dyslexia, ADHD, and Insomnia. Established relationships.

- Tendou Satori with a blind significant other consists of his constant singing/humming around the house, or turning random household objects into makeshift instruments to both entertain you, and so you always know where he’s at and therefore doesn’t frighten you with his sudden presence. He reads things to you, usually describing various things you come in contact with in your day to day life that may not be so friendly to the blind. Letting you touch his face or body in order to get a mental image of his features, doing your hair or makeup and even picking an outfit if you ever ask, holding your hand and guiding you when you’re out or if you request it. He tries his best to continue learning new things to help out where he can, and the thought goes a long way. Bb Tendou ily

- *Kita Shinsuke being more than happy to spend quiet time with his deaf significant other, enjoying the process of learning sign language in order to surprise you, and communicate with you. He’s very thankful his grandmother taught him some growing up. He adores leaving love letters on your nightstand to find at random, and his gentle loving touches in the morning bring you to the day unlike an alarm. He enjoys laying you on his chest so you can feel his heartbeat, and always ensures he approaches you from the front, leaving soft touches on your skin as he twirls you around in the kitchen in the late evenings of your days spent together, smiling wide at the happy grin plastered on your face. This man is incredibly smart, and he continues to surprise you with new sweet gestures every single day.

(This one hits extremely close to home, so I apologize if it’s longer than the rest.)

- *Iwaizumi Hajime with a wheelchair bound significant other consists of many things. Like him happily pushing around your chair for as long as you’d like if you use a manual, or holding your hand as you drive around in your electric chair, always remembering to plug it in at night to charge too. He regularly finds extremely wheelchair friendly places to explore or visit, restaurants without stairs and large enough bathrooms and tables to make you comfortable, or parks and entertainment spaces where you can enjoy yourself without needing to worry about different terrain or judgmental strangers. Him always pressing the handicap door button for you, since he agrees that it’s incredibly disrespectful when more able people kick the button with their dirty shoe for seemingly no reason. It’s his willingness to carry you around bridal style all day if you get uncomfortable sitting for so long, or to give you a massage when you’re sore. Him giving you alone time when you request it, (because for some reason people think it’s okay to crowd wheelchair users all the time?), and chewing people out when they think it’s alright to touch your chair without permission. He does so much more, but unfortunately this drabble is getting a bit long. Though I’ll definitely be writing about this more in the future..

- *Osamu Miya is always mindful of his significant others eating issues, offering up healthy meals with portion sizes that your body both needs and enjoys each day. Making sure to text you a reminder to drink enough water when he’s away or working, or bringing you a glass randomly throughout the day while you were busy with your studies or career. He seems to always keep snacks he knows you enjoy in his car and office at work, and he always offers encouraging, honest advice about your progress and just how proud he is of you. 10/10 bb Osamu

- *Bokuto Kotaro with a significant other who struggles with anxiety, and his constant never ending support and reassurance. His strong arms wrapping around you in a big hug when you ask for them, his uncharacteristic whispers, usually of encouragement or funny stories to make you laugh and bring forward that beautiful smile of yours. It’s how he took the time in the beginning of your relationship to really ingrain the signs of your oncoming anxiety attacks into his brain in order to remove you from those situations as seamlessly as possible in the future. It’s his seemingly endless “I found a new thing that could help, baby! Wanna try?” phrases. How he bought weighted blankets and bubble bath in your favorite scent, and tea in your favorite flavor- always keeping them stocked in the house. It’s how he calls Akaashi at times to ask about what he does to help his own anxiety, and how learning about yours transforms his treatment towards his family, friends, and even shy fans who admire the loud boisterous man, but are too scared to approach him for the same reasons. It’s when he crouches down next to a small child and gently holds their hand, quietly telling them that it’s okay to be anxious sometimes and not to worry. (I went off here- oops)

- *Hinata Shoyo always being helpful and loving when it comes to your depression. Encouraging you every day and reassuring you that you’re doing so well. It’s him bringing you glasses of water or snacks throughout the day to ensure you eat and drink enough, and offering to take bubble baths with you and wash your hair if you’d like, since it can be hard for some to motivate themselves to do that with depression. Him helping you with work or studies in order to take some of the load off of you, even with his busy schedule. It’s how he cuddles you at night, if you’re okay with it, and tells you how proud and happy he is to have you in his life. Him being a ball of sunshine that makes you smile everyday, and taking you on dates he knows will bring happiness to your day. (I will be writing more about this soon too!)

- Tsukishima Kei is always helpful when it comes to his significant others dyslexia. Offering to read things for you, or helping to keep track of small details when you request those of him. He’s always there to comfort you when you’re feeling insecure, and he not-so-secretly really enjoys when you ask him to help with your work or studies, even when they have to do strongly with numbers or extensive reading, he enjoys spending the time with you, it feels intimate to him. Similarly, calming you down or comforting you whenever/if ever you become overwhelmed, or reading a book you seemed really interested in to you at night before snuggling up in bed.

- *Sugawara Koushi and his mix of calm and chaotic nature that pairs well with his significant others ADHD. How he’s always helping keep track of ideas and such, or just generally being a good listener. He knows how frustrating it can be to forget something important. He’s always so down for spontaneous shit too. Wanna paint a room at 4am? Let’s go get the paint. Want to bake cookies and learn the basics of guitar while you wait for them to bake? He’s got one around here somewhere. It’s how he’s thankful he chose being a school teacher as a career path, because keeping you on track for work and school/leaving little reminders to do those things becomes second nature for him. As chaotic as he himself is, he’s always there to comfort you when you’re feeling insecure, and reminding you to take your medication if you take any. He enjoys taking you on walks to clear you mind, and often goes out to buy you notebooks and sticky note to write things down for whenever he isn’t there to help you out. Suga bb ily you’re doing great sweetie

- *Suna Rintaro and his significant other with insomnia, finding himself thanking his professional athlete training schedule that keeps his own sleep on track unlike in high school, so he can drag you to bed and hold you close to him whenever you’re struggling to sleep. It’s him learning of all the different things around the house he can do to help, like making sure all the screens in your home have a blue light filter, and ensuring any caffeine or sugar are tucked away into the kitchen cabinets to avoid temptation. It’s him running you a hot bath with lavender or vanilla, and giving you massages when you ask for them, buying fluffy blankets and comfy socks for you occasionally when he’s out. Him being willing to stay awake all night with you until you fall asleep, or taking you out for a late night/early morning walk to the park, and his gentle morning touches that first wake you everyday.

- *Kuroo Tetsuro always being mindful of his significant other with chronic migraines. It’s him turning off all the lights whenever he starts to notice your signs of one coming on, and making as little noise as he possibly can when maneuvering around the house while you’re attempting to sleep one away. It’s how when you wake up he’s giving you massages and bringing you medication with a glass of water, if you take any. How he’s always ready to run you hot baths, or showers if you’d prefer, and making sure to keep the house stocked up on scented/unscented products that won’t aggravate your headache more. It’s him ensuring you eat and drink enough, and bringing you caffeine in the early morning hours to help keep the pain away. Him quietly bringing you hot rags to place over your forehead, and putting blue light filters on all the devices in the house. If they get too bad, he’s driving you to the doctors when needed, or just generally comforting you. His own busy schedule helps in dragging you to bed to get enough rest, and he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy helping you with your work and/or studies- the nerd in him just can’t help it.

🌿 If you guys enjoy this content, I will gladly write more! Please let me know what you think cause this has been racking my brain for a while🥴 I’ll be back to posting regular content soon if you haven’t seen my apology post for my absence/impromptu break for my mental health!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Taglist: @sunalma @toworuu @livy384

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© catwithangerissues 2021 - do not repost, edit/alter, plagiarize or claim any works as your own.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Favorite Human

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: McCall!Pack x reader (platonic) Word count: 2.8k Summary: It’s Malia who first smells it - the bitter scent that had started to Infiltrate yours - and she, Lyida and Kira decide to find out what was wrong with you...  Warning: Nothing too much really, but it’s slightly Angsty I guess. Also the feels Requested by the amazing, patient and great anon: Hi~,Teen Wolf person again. Can i request a pack image where the reader is hiding something for the pack and the pack are all sort of catching on to it like chemosignals and behaviour. Eventually they kinda piece the bits together and figure it out. they all try to comfort you and help you get better. Something just along those lines.(They could be hiding selfharm stuff, family stuff or they like someone in the group or yeah, you can pick what your comfort writing for) Thank you have a nice day~

The California sun was beating down on Beacon Hills and its inhabitants, a feeling of peace and calm that was - by now - almost foreign in the city laid in the air and prompted the resident teenagers and young adults to enjoy a day away from school, stress and (for a very special group) life threatening situations. This particular group - the McCall pack, as they were known in the supernatural community of the city - decided to spend their free time on a very nice, but fairly unknown clearing in the beacon hill woods and for once being surrounded by these trees didn’t give them the vibe that one of them could probably die at any given moment. It was a rather nice change. “Uno,” Liam smiled as he slapped a +4 card onto the floor, making Mason groan and throw his head back. It was the third time in a row that Liam was winning and while it seemed to leave you completely cold it annoyed Mason to no end, but he couldn’t stop playing either until either you or him finally beat the wolf. While the three of you were sitting in your game circle, Malia, Lydia and Kira were lounging on a picnic blanket enjoying the sun and having their conversation. The only one who was sitting on the grass like a lost puppy was Stiles, phone in hand but seemingly not having the attention span to focus on it for more than five consecutive seconds. Originally he and Scott had been sitting there together talking about Lacrosse or girls or whatever the two of them talked about when they weren’t planning to save the city, but Scott had - after lots of pleading and begging on his betas part - disappeared into the direction of the city to buy some ice cream for everyone. “Y/N?” Liam shocked your shoulder and you had to shake your head to come back into reality and out of your thoughts. “Yes?” you looked at him with wide doe-eyes full of confusion. “It’s your turn.” “Oh, right, sorry, just lost in thoughts,” you smiled apologetically and shrugged before turning to your cards to think about your next move, not noticing how Liam and Mason exchanged a look. They had started to notice the change in your behaviour only recently. Your usual very cheery, always-seeing-the-best-in-everyone-and-everything self started to be stuck in your thoughts more often and your smile seemed just a little bit off lately. “Here you go,” you looked up again and put a +2 in front of Liam earning a quiet ‘Yessss’ from Mason at the prospect of finally beating his best friend, only to be sorely disappointed when a smirk immediately filled Liam’s face as he victoriously added his own - last - +2 card onto the pile, effectively winning the game and starting a rather useless discussion about whether the fact that the makers of Uno stated that putting a +2 on another +2 and making it a +4 wasn’t allowed counted anything. While Mason and Liam kept on blickering you pulled yourself up from the grass-floor and wandered over to the girls who welcomed you with kind smiles and made space for you on the blanket. As you sank down you were immediately pulled into Malias lap who hugged you into her and pressed her nose into your neck and y/h/l hair to smell you - a habit of hers that you had at first found more than disturbing but by now had gotten used to. In fact, the more time you spent with your not-quite-human friends and acquaintances, the more you noticed that they all had their own little versions of that, even though with Malia it was the most extreme since she was still the one running mostly on her basic instincts. At least that’s how Stiles explained it to you. He said that since you were logically seen the most vulnerable and ‘weak’ member of the pack their natural instincts where to protect and shield you from all dangers and make sure you are alright and - after your initial reaction of punching the hell out of Stiles’ shoulder in order to show him just how not-weak you were - you started registering it more and more. It was mostly very little things with Scott, Liam, Derek and in some situations (even though rarely) Peter like little hugs and giving you their clothes to scent you, pushing themselves in front of you in the face of even the most harmless of situations or the way they just sometimes randomly turned up at your house (this was mostly Scott, Liam and Malia though) to check if you’re okay even if they could just call. With Malia it was all that, but times ten in intensitivity. And the smelling. Malia herself wasn’t quite sure why, but she simply loved your natural scent. It always managed to calm her down. So you got used to her randomly smelling at you even if it did weird you out from time to time. Usually she would pull back after a few seconds, give you a happy smile and get back to what she was doing before like nothing happened, but this time when she drew back she looked at you displeased and confused. “Is something the matter?” you asked just as confused and now the other girls, who had gotten used to Malias antics and taken on the habit of just completely ignoring it in order not to get growled at, got curious as well and turned their attention towards you. “Something’s off,” Malia grumbled and scrunched her nose like she’s smelt something rotten. “Oi!” you scoffed and moved back a little, feign being offended, “Are you telling me I stink?” “No,” Malia sighed and rolled her eyes, “It’s not that, it’s just...your scent is- I don’t know how to put it really. Bitter? I think?” “What does that mean?” Lydia asked, her interest now seemingly spiked. “‘M not sure,” Malia shrugged and moved forward to take another good sniff at your hair, only for you to move your head back out of her reach and put your hands on her shoulders to keep her a distance away from you. “I think that’s quite enough,” you chuckled, but it sounded mechanical almost, “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t really think me smelling bitter means anything.” Noticing the way you held yourself defensive, something that you almost never did, all three of the girls wanted to investigate further, but you quickly moved off of Malia’s lap and stood up. “Oh look, there’s our ice cream,” you smiled as if nothing was happening and jogged over to your Alpha to help him. “This was weird, right? She’s acting weird, isn’t she?” Kira questioned and looked between the other two girls who nodded, “What’s that about?” “Not sure, but we gotta find out before the boys notice anything. Malia is bad enough already, but if the male wolfies find out we’ll have a real problem on our hands,” Lydia sighed and inspected you from afar. 

After then the three of them noticed it far more often, the way you held yourself changed and your smile seemed to lessen by the day. By the time you started to fold into yourself and Malia said that your smell was getting more bitter, to the extent that she could smell it above almost everything else surrounding you, they knew that it had gotten out of their hands. They had to involve the others as much as they dreaded their reactions. As they had predicted Scott, Liam and - surprisingly enough for a human - Stiles didn’t react kindly to it, immediately planning to confront you. But in a turn of events, their thirst for actions and the girls rational thinking evened each other out and they decided on an approach that was reluctant enough to not scare you away, while also - hopefully - pushing you to tell them what was wrong. They wanted to do it in an environment that you felt comfortable in so they decided to go to your place, but that meant that they couldn’t all come, since they didn’t want to overwhelm you either. So, after a long and exhausting discussion, they decided that Stiles would be the one who’d go in first to make sure everything was clear and then give the others a heads up to follow. The Pack was standing - as inconspicuous as it was possible for a group of five - on the other side of the street your house was in as Stiles was walking down your driveway, welcomed by a cute door plate that had obviously been made my a little child and he was pretty safe in his assumption that you had been the one who had made it when you were younger. After taking a breath of reassurance Stiles raised his hand and knocked on the door. You must have been near the door already, because not even ten second later the door was tipped open and you stared at him with tired eyes, in your alien Pajamas with messy hair. If Stiles had not known better he would have assumed you had tried to sleep. “Who is it Honey?” He heard the voice of your mother scream, but the usual sweet voice he was used to hearing from her was strained and mixed with annoyance. “Uhm...It’s Stiles! My friend from school, he was here last month to study for my english exam, you remember?” “Oh, yes,” your mother walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, “Hello Stiles.” Stiles returned the greeting, but his thoughts were more occupied by the state of your mother. Her hair looked unwashed and even more messy than yours, obviously not because of sleep, but rather because she hadn’t brushed it in a while, there were red stains under her eyes, the skin around it dry and strained, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she must have cried - a lot - and her blouse was wrinkled, which he knew from their previous meetings and what you had told him about her would usually be a no-go for her. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” she smiled, but it was tight-lipped and obviously forced, but before she disappeared into the kitchen again she looked at you, “Y/N, make it fast please.” You just nodded and turned back to Stiles. “Hey,” he said again, a little bit uncertain now, the situation having thrown him off of the plan he had made in his head on the way from the pack to the door. “Hi,” you said and he had to admit that you were definitely your mothers daughter by the way your forced smile perfectly resembled hers. “I wanted to talk to you, uhm, we - I mean me and the pack by that, well it started with Lydia, Malia and Kira, but anyways - we noticed that you’ve been...how do I put this correctly- well, I guess you’ve been off more lately and so we’ve been worried, because usually you smile a lot and you always make unfunny jokes and all that and now you don’t so-” Stiles rambled and just let everything flow out at once, probably would have continued to do so if you hadn’t held up your hand to stop him. “Not-Not here, okay? I’ll answer your questions, but not here. Let’s take this outside, please,” you shut Stiles up and took his arm to lead him out of your house and onto your porch where you sat down on the stairs leading onto your front law. For a while there was silence as Stiles found himself unsure of what to do next, but he could basically feel the piercing stares of his friends on him. After a few seconds of contemplating he sat down beside you, while still keeping a little bit of distance - just to make sure he wasn’t too overwhelming. “So…” “Yeah, so…” “Why...have you been so off?” Stiles asked but honestly couldn’t help but cringe a bit at how completely un-smooth he sounded. “I- It’s-” you tried multiple approaches, but stopped yourself every time, only to sink your face into your hands and sigh, “I’m sorry.” You raised your face again and looked at Stiles and he could see the sadness, this slight sense of despair. “Hey, it’s okay, don’t rush yourself,” Stiles tried to comfort you, “If you can’t tell me that’s okay, we’re just all very worried about you. We want to make sure that you’re okay.” “No, it’s fine, I- I think I actually wanted to tell you all for a while, but- I don’t really know, it’s just been hard for me… My parent’s have been going through some rough patches for the last few months and now my dad - he,” you stopped again and hugged your arms around you, Stiles couldn’t help but notice the glistening of tears in your eyes, “-He moved out two weeks ago. I mean, sure there were signs, it wasn’t working well by all means, but moving out? That was pretty shocking for my mom and me.” By now the tears had started rolling down your face and Stiles couldn’t hold back anymore. He moved closer to you and laid his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. It seemed that the pack couldn’t hold back anymore either, because only a few seconds either Lydia was kneeling in front of you holding your hands, the rest also finding positions around you - hoping to give you as much comfort as possible. You gave them a wet chuckle, even though your tears didn’t stop flowing. “I could’ve guessed that you’re not far. I’m sorry for being a mess.” “No, Don’t ever be sorry for feeling. We love you and that means that we’ll be there for you through the bad times just as we are in the good times,” Scott assured you and lovingly petted your head even though he knew that you always complained about how it made you feel like a little child or a puppy. “Thank you guys for being here - it’s just a lot right now. My mom is expecting me to be on her side, while my dad keeps expecting me to decide about where I’m going to live now. He wants me to move with him to New York into the city he grew up in, but I don't want to leave Beacon Hills. I have my whole life here, my school, you guys, my mom, literally everything, but I also don’t want to lose him- It’s just, I feel so torn and it seems like every choice I could take would be the wrong one,” you were full on sobbing at that point, but it was clear enough for your friends to understand you. “Hey, It’s okay,” Lydia tried to calm you down, “I know that this seems like an impossible choice, but I can assure you we will find a way. We’ve defeated some of the greatest evils that the world has seen and we were successful. We’ll be just as successful with this, okay?” You started nodding and for the first time in a while you were actually feeling just a little bit like yourself again, a sliver of home filling your heart at all your friends who were by your side and supporting you. “Lydia’s right,” Scott agreed. “There’s one thing I gotta ask though,” Liam started and before anyone else with a little more sense of sensibility could stop him asked: “Why didn’t you tell us before? I mean we’re you’re best friends ri-” At that moment Mason basically threw himself at him and put his hand in front of his mouth to shut him up. “You don’t have to answer that,” Kira assured you, but you just shook your head. “No, it’s fine, I get why he asked. I- I guess I just thought - it’s like Lydia said, we fight evil on a weekly base, we have to worry about so much more serious things than my stupid family drama.” “Now listen to me,” Lydia spoke up in her I-will-take-no-talkbacks-voice and looked at your sternly, “This is not stupid and it is by no means less imporant than anything else we do, okay? Maybe it’s not life-threatening or supernatural, but it is still hurting you and as friends we can’t let anything hurt our favorite human, can we now?” And in that moment everything was okay again - if only for just a few seconds - with your friends by your side and Stiles yelp of protest, because he insisted that he was at least Scott’s favorite human, - earning himself a look from Scott that told him that what Lydia said also applied to him - even made you laugh your normal laugh again. And so, when Malia finally got close enough to you with all your friends surrounding you to smell your scent, she found that your normal, sweet scent was finally returning again, and even though there was still a bitter undertone to it she now was sure that it would soon be back to her favorite scent again.