#if you're reading this YOU should do some painting it's actually awesome

[serennes-art]

ANNIHILATION

[kaija-rayne-author]

OMG I'm laughing so hard at someone calling me names because I dared post that I had to unfollow people who were toxicly positive about Veilguard and being twats about it to others.

Again, I'm truly happy for you if you liked it. I didn't. You shockingly don't have to be an asshole to others about it. Nor do you need to shit on something other people loved simply because checks notes, some stranger on the internet said that they didn't want to follow people being toxically positive about something you liked. Oooookay then. 🤣

It's a video game. A piece of entertainment. It's fiction.

If you get so worked up over someone else's (a strangers!) opinion that you're slinging ad hominem attacks, maaaaaybe it's time to I dunno, do literally anything else?

Especially trying to get any response but laughter or blocking out of someone like me who has lived through so much that if I talk about even a fraction of it, people go all owl eyed and universally ask in a quiet, shocked tone 'how are you even alive?'

Legit can't stop laughing. 🤣

Update

So, I freely admit that I'm in a bad mood and broke my rule about feeding the trolls. I shall do my due internet denizen duty and block/report.

In all responsibility, while laughing at a troll can be a good tool, it risks escalation, and it's really better to simply block and report. They get their jollies by making people feel horrible. (I wasn’t laughing out of trying to feed a troll BTW. They legitimately shocked me into laughing. I wasn't in a good enough mood to hide my reaction.)

They've either deleted or hidden their responses to me. It's just a crying shame that screenshots are forever. Y'all might want to preemptively block. Up to you.

If they hadn’t been so utterly awful, I'd probably have let it slide. But this behavior is unacceptable in a society.

Transcript since it won't fit in alt text.

Lilithfairen

So you're just a raging asshole who can't stand people enjoying a game you didn't. You should let people know that when you follow them so anyone with common sense can block you the moment they see you around.

Masked responder

That's not what OP said lmao

Me

Oh, honey. You're precious (laugh emoji) Go try to gaslight and sea lion someone else. In your vast amounts of time where you're not being a dick to a stranger, perhaps you should consider brushing up on that 'reading comprehension' thing. I gather it's not your highest skill. Maybe put a few skill points in that.

Me replying to masked responder

Right? (Laugh emoji) Just posting on my own wall, about a Fandom problem that they very clearly demonstrated an excellent example of, and *I'm* the asshole. I'm laughing so fucking hard I'm almost crying.

lilithfairen

Oh, not gaslighting anyone. Because a quick check tells me you're a BG3 stan, which highlights why you don't like Veilguard and the people who enjoy it. Veilguard doesn't write queer people as sexual predator. Veilguard doesn't get off on victimizing non-white people or writing them as innately evil and savage. Veilguard doesn't write a storyline where a goddess is a prop to paint a white guy as awesome and smart and then written as a horrible bitch herself. You're a garbage shitstain of a person who can't stand Veilguard not being a game written for straight white manbaby sensibilities, because you think that's what good fiction is.

Me. Oh, do please keep responding (laugh emoji) you're amusing me and exposing your ignorance nicely. Have you considered therapy? It might help with that whole ... hatred of everyone who isn't me... thing, you have going on. I actually can't stop laughing at the loads of shit you're shoveling. I hope you're getting a decent wage for that. Shoveling shit is hard work.

I did say I wasn't in a good mood.

Anyway... because I'm me... pretty sure a lot of people who play Dragon Age games also play BG3. And liked both. It's not an either or. People can shockingly like both! While accepting that there's no such thing as a perfect game/book/movie/show/anything.

I know several people I'm on good terms with who absolutely loved Veilguard. I didn't, but it's not their problem. I don't make it their problem.

Veilguard doesn't write queer people well. Period. (I'm a queer AF author and editor.)

"Doesn't get off on victimizing non-white people or writing them as innately evil and savage." *blinks*. 'Who do we put across from Harding for a death choice. "Assan."' -John Epler (Not the whole Black man attached to the bloody griffin. The griffin.) That doesn't even get into what having the only Black male companion being part of that choice in the first place says. (Pssst. It's not good.)

Um... the Qunari have long been PoC coded and what they did to the Qunari in Veilguard is nothing short of writing them as innately evil and savage. Seriously? Truly shocked by that one. Taash's first romance scene is really problematic, too.

"A storyline where a goddess is a prop to paint a white guy as awesome?" Did they even play BG3? I've played it 5x and have no idea what they're on about there. And Vlakkith has always been a bitch. (I've been playing D&D since 2E. Is it problematic? Fuck yes.) I guess female and woman presumed people aren't allowed to be evil. Who knew?

Snorts. I'm not white, not a man, definitely not straight, and good fiction is my actual job.

As far as the ad hominem attacks. (Sad head shake) Dirthara-ma, da'len.

All that in response to this post of mine.

[dualityvn]

Hey Nightmare! I replayed your game recently and wanted to explain why I chose music in the survey. I love the game on almost all of its sides, and a lot of them just stayed with me. The sprites are so afshsg, Keith's smug expression portrays a lot of the character that I saw in the blog when he gains confidence. His jealous/worried expression frightens me because he looks very unstable. And about Tene, he really looks like the socially awkward /and dangerous/ dork he is. I can see when he's nervous and when he's relaxed. I can read his face and not misunderstand when making choices around him. Their sprites are more than good for me, they're charming. If I have to be picky I'd say maybe the backgrounds could improve. The characters don't mix well with it, but sometimes that's good because contrast;; and also gives you a mysterious, foggy vibe like everything is just a bad dream and you don't know what is going to happen.

I love the writing too, especially the last date! I got the scary vibe (and the fae painting was great!), it gave me chills. The writing stays with me during my daily life, I love the dialogues and I repeat them all through my brain. I like how you show things, imply things instead of just saying them. I like that the MC is smart enough to know what to do in different, unexpected situations. If anything, I think you could make that feel more natural. For example, sometimes you can choose "I'm not scared" after a scene that freaked your character out. Maybe make us choose the option earlier and show during different scenes how the MC is not scared, that way MC's acts match their words. Still, the writing is awesome for me. The romantic scenes just make me all giddy amdjsk, I wouldn't change a thing about that, and the MC's options during them (i like that I have the option to say I'd put a collar on tenebris, and you can also not be into that just bc tene is). But ofc changing the writing and art is up to you! I shouldn't mention this because it's evident but it's your game and more important than making a game that people will enjoy is making a game that you'll enjoy making and you're satisfied with!

My point is (sorry that was long!) the only thing I don't remember after closing the game is the music. I slightly remember Tene's main theme (which I find funny when it starts playing because it's like HELL YES TENE IS HERE TO MAKE TROUBLEEEE BABY) but the rest doesn't really stick with me. This doesn't mean it's bad, it's actually good but I know it could be better, it could add a lot more than it does. There are some moments when the music goes off (like the first date) which I don't think is a good moment to go off because you usually get worried/scared when that happens. Walking home after the date during night should feel more tiring and nostalgic, yet romantic. There should be a way to differentiate a happy charming, magical night with the boys from a calm, nostalgic nightly path. And if there's a way to add more life to a VN, that's music! It doesn't have to be a masterpiece, but feel more 'full of life' if you get me.

I hope my review is useful and not bothering agshsgs. This is all me trying hard to find things that could be better. The demo is already so so good as it is! I was surprised to see the survey in the first place when you're already doing great and hard work. If you have to point a gun at me to choose, music is my choice. I think a lot of VNs underestimate it (not that I think you do!). I say this as a person who used to undervalue music, I can draw and write but cannot make music to save my life, I suck at it 😭 but now I wouldn't be satisfied until finding the perfect piece.

Take what I say with a grain of salt Nightmare!! Thank you for giving us this masterpiece already. 🙇 Hope you're doing great!!

Hi! Thank you for your feedback and for all the praise! 💕

Honestly, I absolutely get where you're coming from in terms of the music. But sadly, music is something I can't do all that much about. I don't have the budget to hire a composer, so I'm stuck with using whatever royalty free music I can find. I will try to plan it out a little better in terms of when certain tracks play, though!

[blazinghotfoggynights]

My Mind Did That Thing Again!

You know, where it sees something, then takes off in a random direction for no reason other than it can and it's fun. So, I had a crazy thought last season and it just kind of...experienced an accelerated unchecked growth spurt today after reading the info about the next ep's and the upcoming eps's titles. *looks at the titles of the remaining episodes* 🤨

I have a WIP that I began the night the lightning strike episode premiered last season. Let me preface this by saying the fic is nowhere near complete. (I'm in no hurry. That is the beauty of fandom. You can offer a fic forty years after a show ends and the devoted fans will still be there.) The plan is still for it to be a series with several entries, all of which are multi-chaptered.

Why am I bringing this up? Because it's that time again folks where my imagination runs wild and I ask you all to play 'I know this is crazy, but just hear me out and humor me". For those who have seen this game, participated, and maybe even enjoyed it, you are awesome!

So, the game is played just like the title states. Let's go! (I put the insanity under a cut. If you move forward, I am not responsible for anything that happens!

We know Shannon and most of Eddie's family are supposedly going to appear in the next ep, right? (I say supposedly because you can't really trust anything that gets leaked. Remember that karaoke scene?)

What if it's because Eddie Diaz is balancing on a thin wire between the living and dead? He is close enough to the other side to see Shannon, but still physically hanging on in this plane.

You're probably rolling your eyes and wondering, "What the hell does this have to do with last season?" That's okay and I will tell you.

What if, all this time, we've been viewers of Eddie's coma dream? What if the person who actually died and had to be revived was Eddie? Everything that has happened since then has all been a figment of his imagination.

I'm not saying this is plausible, probable, or practical. I'm just having some fun. (I write. I paint. I am creative. Some say cray cray, but what is normal anyway?)

Now, if I look at what has transpired between then and now, I could point out a few things that could support that theory. (You can call me crazy later. I'm used to it.)

1- Eddie was hit by the lightning.

Eddie was hit first, but just hopped right up? I know some people will say the lightning threw him, but let's look at simple science. To be affected by the electricity, he had to experience the electricity. It was powerful enough to throw him off the truck.

Eddie was hit.

2- Eddie was not in Buck's dream.

Why? If it is really Eddie having the dream, but imagining it is Buck, it's possible he can't conjure a dream version of himself.

I thought it was interesting that Christopher was in the dream and asking Buck for help. Maybe it's Eddie's subconscious reminding him that Christopher will be taken care of by the man he trusted enough to give his son to should he be incapacitated.

3- The scene at the graveyard.

Why on Earth did they go to the victim's grave? Don't they have a rule of letting go at the door? Why would Eddie go to the cemetery and stand over the grave of someone he did not know having a heart-to-heart with Buck?

4- The death doula wasn't a doula.

She was death. Natalia taking Buck away the first time could have been Eddie coding. In his dream, Buck was leaving him, when in reality he was leaving Buck. Natalia coming back could have been Eddie moving toward death again, but managing to escape it's grasp once more. The final breakup? Eddie was resurging.

5- The bachelor party.

What about Eddie Diaz in the past six seasons would point to what he and Buck did? He got smashed, destroyed a hotel room with a bunch of strangers, and all in the name of a bachelor party for a man who didn't want one and was not even there.

The party could have been his subconscious rapidly processing a lot of information, both conscious and subconscious, suddenly. The drag queens? Come on now. Everything with that show is intentional and that scene was disjointed, chaotic, and completely unhinged. None of that is Eddie Diaz.

6- Marisol

Eddie is not into that woman. He is clinging to her for some reason and he fast forwarded through the relationship. Did the Eddie Diaz of seasons 2-early 6 seem like the type of father to let some woman he barely knows supervise his son's dates, babysit Christopher, and move in?

Or was it Eddie's mind simply pulling a woman he had met briefly into his subconscious and building a story around her?

(For those who are science nerds or just fascinated by psychology, there is a theory our minds can't create faces and every person in your dream is someone you have at least seen in passing.)

6- Tommy

It has been mentioned soooo many times how similar Eddie and Tommy are.

That is all I will say on that topic.

For now.

If you made it all the way through, I will end it by saying this.

This may be a crazy idea about the show, but it will happen. If it doesn't in canon, it will in fic. This is why I love fandom. 😁

[goodluckclove]

WRITERS - Read More Nonfiction! (With Recs)

Okay so before I start I'm making it very clear that I don't say this as some generalized statement about how All Online People Aren't Reading Right. I doubt that's true! But based on some of the threads and discourse I see on my corner on Writeblr, it definitely seems like a lot of you would greatly benefit from expanding the scope of what you read.

I think there's probably a big stigma against nonfiction for a lot of people - there was for me for the longest time. Maybe six years ago, though, I stumbled into the genre and found that it can actually be rad as shit. It's been an invaluable form of research from people who definitely know what they're talking about, as well as a way to open myself up to new ideas.

You have chronic writers block? It could potentially be because you're consuming exclusively one genre of media. If that's the case, this will definitely get the gears turning!

Below are a collection of my favorite nonfiction books from my own shelf. The funny thing I immediately learned about suggesting more than like three nonfiction books at a time is that it does paint a kind of intimate picture of who I am. Feel free to tell me if these recommendations surprise you based on who you view me to be.

Clove's Favorite Nonfiction Books!

The Mystery of the Exploding Teeth by Thomas Morris - a collection of historical medical cases back when someone would see a doctor for a gunshot wound and the doctor would treat it with a laxative. WILD stuff.

American Monsters by Linda S. Godfrey - US cryptids! Lots of first person accounts.

Cursed Objects by J. W. Ocker - Famous cursed shit. Quick read but very fun.

The Cloudspotter's Guide by Gavin Prector-Pinney - this was written by the founder of the Cloud Appreciation Society, a real organization. It tells you everything you need to know about clouds. Fascinating.

Gory Details by Erika Englehaupt - stories and studies of more morbid and "gross" aspects of science, like the guys who stung themselves with instincts to measure the pain or that beach that feet kept washing up on for a while. Cool interviews with science people.

Fuzz by Mary Roach - wild animals break the law a lot actually and we still as a species don't really know what to do about that.

Spook by Mary Roach - an account of Ghost Believing from all sides of the argument. There was a guy who measured dying bodies to see if he could see them get lighter as their soul escaped.

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimberly - an indigenous-influenced look at our relationship as a species to nature around us. Really beautiful prose from someone who I believe is primarily a botanist and activist?

All the Living and the Dead by Hayley Campbell - stories and analysis from different aspects of the death industry! Embalmers to crime scene cleaners! Super interesting!

American Afterlives by Shannon Lee Dawdy - I have. A lot of death culture books. A lot. This one talks about all the neat things people in America do with their bodies after they die in the modern age. It's fun!

Dark Archives by Megan Rosenbloom - so this IS a book on the history of Anthropodermic bibliopegy, or books bound in human skin. I'm actually midway through this now and it's super fascinating and cool. Also my wife refuses to talk to me about this so I'd love someone else to talk to.

The Secret Lives of Color by Cassia St. Clair - I read like four books on color theory and pigment for a novel I wrote a few years ago and this was my favorite. It's a look into a ton of major hues and pigments throughout history as well as a peek into the timeline of color making. Did you know making green fabrics used to be illegal?

Atlas Obscura - a fucking cool look into weird and unique spots across the globe. Every artist who works with places should have access to this. It's awesome.

Every Caitlin Doughty book they're all great. She's a modern mortician and founder of the Order of the Good Death. Just an incredible human being and a super engaging and informative writer.

If someone wants to reblog with their favorite nonfiction books and what they got from them, be my guest! Maybe someone could use a new read to get their next idea or refine what they're currently working on!

[brynalyn]

lol glip is so upsetti that you're speaking out about your experience on chost that theyre flooding the floraverse tags with ms paint whining about how people are mean

Just saw this and it’s really funny lmao. Like sure, just post through it, try and cover everything up however you can and have a pity party about it, just slander the victims and deny any wrongdoing like you always do, or claim it wasn’t wrong and actually the other person is bad for being upset. That always makes things go away and leads to healthy conclusions and healing 🤪

at least I can own up to my past and have always made 300% effort to change and learn when I’ve fucked up. If I did something that hurt someone, I apologized and stopped the behavior. instead of just blaming the other person, bc that would be abusive of me! And delusional, which I don’t feed into anymore. Accountability feels freaking awesome…. too bad glip is the eternal victim and it will always be someone else’s fault. Lmao.

I’m still not gonna read what they wrote bc they have no respect for me and certainly are rehashing things I have already experienced a significant amount of guilt for, as well as manipulative guilt tripping and gaslighting over, things I’ve long since apologized and changed for, things that were insignificant molehills yet I still got shit for it years later. Im not going to read how it was actually okay for pengo to treat me and others like shit, how my reaction is wrong somehow, how I’m the bad guy for originally trying to connect, or giving good faith that I wasn’t being abused. I’m not gonna get guilted for trusting people I looked up to and being upset and confused when they weren’t trustworthy!!! I’m not some fabled perfect victim obviously but that never stopped my abuse, the things I experienced from being real. If Glip believed their own bullshit they would have taken the care to look and read what I’ve said and sent them both currently and in the past but just like when I first learned glips true nature they just don’t give a shit if it’s not about them/someone who constantly kisses their ass and lives in it. If someone shows discontent over being punched down on all the time, or disagree with glips story they’ve told where they are the victim in every way, they’ll get all sorts of manipulative and abusive treatment….. ask me how I know lol.

Suffice to say I totally believed glip about everything and that was a really stupid decision on my part I found out. Then I rightly felt like, betrayed and as if I had been misled, which I had been, but all that was seen as ‘kf behavior’ or something. Feeling hurt about an artist you look up to deceiving people for years is wrong guys it’s evil according to glip. According to them we should all forgive everything bc they are the victim, forget about it and move on, and also bow down to all their opinions and whims and take all their shit without complaint. Be a good doormat or you might find out how they really feel about you. Super healthy behavior all around. God I’m so glad I left lmao.

[bi-harrymort]

yesterday i listened to the order of the phoenix audiobook while doing some chores and i was stuck on a thought about dumbledore i've had for a while but couldn't really articulate...

when i was a kid i liked him - he reminded me of my grandpa.

when i was a teen i became more critical of him and started to appreciate him as a more grey-area character, rather than what he was (i imagine) intended to be - the good and wise, albeit flawed in some ways, mentor figure.

now each year with each re-read of the books i begin to feel more and more irritated whenever he enters a scene... and i couldn't put my finger on why i felt that way (i put the blame of my irritation on fanfiction - reading about different renditions and interpretations of characters influences how we see them, especially since most of the fanfics i read in the hp fandom are, in the least, dumbledore-critical, if not outright dumbledore bashing)

but yesterday a thought struck me, when i was listening to the chapter of harry's hearing at the ministry, and the thought was that dumbledore, in canon, truly seems extremely cold and emotionless...

(many people have already talked about it, but I guess I wanted to maybe touch on some stuff that is not talked about as often?)

albus dumbledore is always kind, pleasant, composed, and presented in a way that is supposed to give us an impression of a very wise, experienced by life and its sorrows, man.

but i think what happened was that his character ended up becoming the opposite of this image.

for example, let's take his first ever scene in the series:

he meets with mcgonagall, and as they wait for hagrid to arrive with harry, they talk...

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

this is the first instance in which my teeth started to grind. of course, the dialogue serves as an intoduction: mcgonagall has to tell us - the audience - who and how significant dumbledore is; in the same scene showcasing voldemort's significance.

the powerful and frightening dark lord, and the powerful, benevolent opposing figure of the story.

but, at the same time, when done this way, it presents a very... strange character... for when we look at this scene through the lenses of the fictional world dumbledore is damn well aware why he was never afraid of voldemort, and should understand why everyone else is, right?

this line paints his modesty in a fake light... (not to mention a lack of empathy to understand why people may be afraid of voldemort) a way for him to show how unremarkable he is, while clearly knowing that he isn't, all to get the points for modesty as well.

it's one thing to be modest while being aware that you may be in some ways special, its another to be 'modest' without acknowledging it, in which case you're either really oblivious or not really honest. and given the story, i wouldn't say that dumbledore is presented as an oblivious character - quite the opposite actually, given how he always seems to know everything - more than any other character. so that would leave us with the option number two...

"I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of." "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have." "Only because you're too - well - noble to use them." "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

why am i rolling my eyes? oh dumbledore, you're so different and awesome and special and noble and good! excuse me i have to throw up.

this happens over and over and over again; save for one or two instances...

but even this i always lumped into a bit of a biased and irrational dislike of a character, and so i didn't think it a sufficient reason to ever bring it up. what did persuade me to write this post is the constant, constant calmness of albus dumbledore.

now, i don't mind passive, calm, composed or, in a similar way, depressed characters. it's all about who they are, what's their backstory, their role in the story, etc.

dumbledore's calmness coupled with all of those other aspects make him into someone very emotionless; emotionless that is veering into ruthlessness. and this trait, we are told and 'shown', is supposed to be the exact opposite of his percieved personality...

he constantly keeps vital information from other people (even if the information pertains to the matters of life-and-death); allows for others (especially children) to fight his battles; shows up only in very critical moments, when he would have had the power to actually prevent some of the events from happening; and is so calm and collected throughout all of the chaos that ensues that he comes off as if he didn't really care about anyone or anything...

he preaches about love and family, and he certainly believes in it to an extent, but his actions and reactions do not fully confirm the truthfulness of his words. he's more like a general of an army - he hates to see his soldiers die, but he's got to let it, he's the only one who knows about the horcruxes - he's the only one who knows how to defeat voldemort once and for all! so he's got to stay in control...

whilst also, in the same breath, preaching about how dangerous having such control is.

telling everyone how he rejects power, claiming he doesn't have it...

whilst being in the position of absolute control.

control that he gained through his knowledge. his intelligence. his fame. his standing in the wizarding world.

he may not be the minister, but the minister heavily relies on him for most of the story... to such an extent that some people don't respect the minister himself. instead they give this respect and power to dumbledore - other witches and wizards treat dumbledore in a way dumbledore claims to reject.

because power isn't only what you do and say. power comes from other people as well. hell, maybe even more so... people give individuals their power.

you may be the smartest and the strongest person in the world and never gain even an ounce of the power that the renowned and celebrated people of the world have.

most of dumbledore's flaws are part of the writing itself - it's a children's book with a child protagonist. he and his teen friends have to save the day...

so, like with voldemort, dumbledore ends up in the limbo between made claims and the 'reality' of the story.

voldemort is powerful, brilliant; a great wizard - whether they love or hate him, other characters always admit that he was great.

dumbledore is also powerful and brilliant; a good man - most characters will confirm it every once in a while, reminding us of this fact.

but that's the issue i guess... or maybe a blessing... the story is what it is, and so when we - the fans - wish to dig deeper, we'll all end up with a thousand different interpretations of the same character, all fuelled by our own, personal understanding of the text, our own personalities and life experiences and our own ways in which we end up interacting with the source material.

so we'll always create unique explanations. some centered solely on the fictional world's perspective, and some combining fiction with the reality of the written book: its genre and possible real-life influences.

the post was supposed to be shorter, but I couldn't leave some of this stuff out... in the middle of writing i considered taking more time before updating and doing more research (maybe even make it into a much bigger project and go through all of dumbledore's scenes in all of the books)... but i decided to table it for another time.

[whereonceiwasfire]

Alright, I've been musing on The Writing Thing™ and at the request of literally nobody, I'm going to just ramble something I've been thinking about here. Disclaimer: I have one brain cell (and he's a-tired), and I'm pretty much of the mind that like, do what you want. If words are on the page, congrats, you've succeed at writing. That said, here goes, welcome to The Innerworkings of My Brain, and proceed at your own risk.

So, I kind of just think a lot of writing advice ends up boiling down to the fact that writers can get in our own way by trying too hard to convey something very specific to readers. While, of course, part of the point of writing is to paint a specific word picture, I also think there's something to be said for letting that go a little bit. Making your peace with the fact that, most of the time, readers probably aren't going to imagine/picture/experience exactly what you want them to when they're reading. I am 95% sure that every setting, character, or description I have ever read was not intended to look the way they do in my head. Part of that is because I have the attention span of an overcaffeinated hamster and will just picture something immeadiately upon its introduction in the text (and continue to picture that throughout, actual desciptions be damned). But part of that is also because there's ambuiguity in language. And that's okay. Freeing even. Dare I say, kind of magic? The idea that we could all enjoy the same story, go on the same journey, love the same characters, but that, for each person who reads, a new, subtle variation of this experience now exists? It's little universes. And why would you want to stifle that?

How does this apply to writing advice, you ask? So glad you brought that up, since I was getting distacted.

Basically, I feel like so many of those pedantic things that get critqued with writing "shoulds" are naturally addressed when we get more comfortable with ambiguity. For example, take clunky, awkward, or over description. These things tend to be a result of just trying too hard to create a very specific picture in readers' heads. You want them to know exactly what the layout of this room is, precisely what the character looks like, specifically what this random gesture they're making is, definitively what move/attack they just used on their enemy, etc. More often than not (though, again, it's not a one-size-fits-all thing, do what you do, and if it works, it works), I think these awkward/over descriptions tend to be hard to follow and slow the pacing down because we're taking such time to focus on something that probably isn't that necessary to make the story go. And isn't it kind of awesome actually that we can be satisfied with giving vague structure to some of these things, and letting readers fill in the blanks, instead of feeling like the fabric of this reality we're creating will break down if we don't describe things 100% perfectly? If we can't convery exactly what this random, shadowy, wirthing portal into the nether dimension looks like? I don't know, maybe I just think so because I'm lazy.

But truly, I think some of the most powerful descriptions are ones that don't even tell you what exactly you're looking at, it tells you what that Thing makes character Feel. "Her lips were red as cheap merlot and I ached to drink to the dregs", "He looked like too many late nights and a hundred bad decisions", blah blah blah, *insert less tropey and cliche example here.* Regardless, what I'm getting at is that a dozen different readers will probably picture a dozen different shades of red lipstick in that first example, no matter how many sentences you devote to describing it, but that's not really the point, is it? The point is that Character wants to kiss the crap out of them.

Likewise, I think this is part of the reason fight scenes can be such a struggle. You want to show exactly what's going on, how Character A is dodging Character B's attacks, each parry and thrust of the sword, etc., etc. However, a real fight is fast, and adrenaline-fuelled, and disorienting, and ask anyone involved to recount what happened afterward, and they probably won't do a great job of it. You lose so much of that urgency, that confusion, that chaos, when you focus on trying to get readers to imagine exactly the perfectly choreographed fight scene you have plotted out, beat for beat, step for step. Which, like, fair. You put a lot of effort into making that scene exciting and dynamic. But I think a lot of the time that's not the pont of the scene, the point is "omg, they're in a fight!" Giving up some of that control and being free to make a fight scene a bit choatic and overwhelming, focuing on the sensations and the ways this fight impacts Character and Story, is often going to make the read so much stronger. Leave some of those fussy details to the individual readers to interpretat since chances are good they were going to do that anyway.

Also, as another example, the whole, oft repeated "show don't tell" advice relies hugely on being okay with readers perceiving subtle things differently. Sure, maybe you want readers to get that your character is sad, and while you can come out and tell them Character A is sad, showing Character A being subdued and quiet instead, forcing a tight smile when addressed, swallowing hard, dismissing themselves from others as quickly as possible, etc., gives you so much more to work with and brings the reader in on the experience. But that means being okay with the fact that maybe some people aren't going to track this as "sad." Maybe they're going to think Character A is upset with the characters they're not talking to, maybe they're going to think Character A is angry instead, maybe they're going to read grief where you meant remorse. And maybe that's okay, because maybe there's a little bit of all of that going on underneath the surface, or maybe it'll become clear later as more of the story happens, or maybe it's just really not that important that the reader gets that the character is "sad" maybe they just need to know that the character is feeling something.

And, in the end, no matter how hard you try to make something you've written exact and specific and yours (the themes, the story, the characters, the setting, the world, the magic, whatever), the second you put that into someone else's hands, it's theirs now too. It comes alive, it changes, it grows, it breathes, and I think, just, let it. Working within that ambiguity, letting the story be something that can exist outside the confines of the words you've written it with, that's powerful, and when we use that to inform our writing, I think it's just naturally stronger.

So...yeah! I guess we're here now, the end of the ramble. Not really sure what to do with that, so, I'll just like, see you all next time?

Signed, Your Friendly Neighbourhood Fanfic Writer

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

"Were having a sit-in" You mean your disrupting business operations and pushing the limits of local fire codes which is a legal issue.

We're blocking traffic" You mean you are blocking people who have nothing to do with your cause, and are also potentially blocking emergency vehicles who could be stuck behind a large mass of traffic. Potentially costing lives or even jobs of some, if not you are costing them their paychecks since their bosses likely will not pay them for time they miss while you were being ass holes.

"We're boycotting" Actual boycotts isn't "Let's destroy these places and also destroy lives and livelihoods while we are at it. It means not buying something from a company. And not trying to socially cancel them by claiming they are bigots in some way because they do something you don't like, causing other brands to make things worse for them making INVESTORS, not customers pull back. You know good well what you are doing

"We're kneeling during the anthem" Ok so this one I personally don't care about but I find it to be a middle finger to me and all my fallen brothers and sisters in the military. The US is a good place to be and political divide is most of you alls issue. (IE painting everything that happens as frequent or extreme to cause infighting for political power struggles where we are all the pawns. The only difference? People that vote democrat don't know they are pawns. The right knows they are. Maybe not the far right but that's not my point)

"We're organizing a march" Good. Go march. Go protest. But also if you consider the 'summer of love', "Just a march" then you're a liar and a scam artist. 8 Billion in insurance claims, meaning more than that in damages, over 30 dead, and 100's injured. Not to mention job loss and now being the cause of having deprived several cities of their markets and other things.

"We're having a demonstration" Are you now? also see above. A "demonstration" is not destroying property, disrupting people's lives, and hurting people. And if that is your definition then you are not a demonstrator, you are a rioter.

"We're burning down the city" ........Yeah no if you think this is ok something is deeply wrong with you. More so if it's cities that DON'T BELONG TO YOU. Which none do. They belong to the entire community.

"I wrote a strongly worded email" This kind of made me chuckle. Because there are two things here. 1) If the email is a complaint then send it and it will either be read or it won't. But if it is then awesome. 2) And this is the actually issue, when organized contact campaigns are pushed and people that don't really know what's going on are pulled in to flood offices with emails. Don't do that. It's not productive and will often result in consequences you don't want. This practice is known as malicious compliance.

All in all if you want to protest protest. But be aware of what you are actually doing. Most people that protest don't know that their forms of protest either directly or indirectly harm others. Like what I mentioned with emergency vehicles and blocking the road. Or maybe you do a sit in at a place where the workers (IE the working class) are burdened by the fact that you are occupying their space. Causing loss of business. Or if it's a food place, you cause loss in capital of everyone working there. And potentially cause the fire department to have to come out on account of you causing the business to break fire code.

People having critiques of your "Protests" isn't racist. The goal of a protest is to draw eyes. The result should not hurt others in the process. Because you lose every person harmed by your protest. Either physical harm or financial harm. Be peaceful and make your voices heard. But really, BE PEACEFUL.

Traffic blockers getcriticized for interfering with innocent people and possibly alienating them. Like BLM blocking highways and airports. Same with burning down cities.

The third panel is ironic, considering how much the left was seething over the Bud Light thing.

Also, boycotts alone aren’t considered cancel culture. Harassing and ostracizing people because they don’t toe the party line is.

I also notice the comic has no actual counterarguments, it just mocks the critics and calls them racists. Which is, again, ironic.

Because I remember the countless people in 2020 who said “why are you burning down black neighbourhoods instead of going after the actual cops and government officials?”

Not to mention that many of the people against BLM would say the same things to antifa, who are stereotypically white and middle-to-upper class.

[nanaminokanojo]

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 1/3

CHARACTERS: Sukuna X You | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Maki | Fushiguro Toji | Baby Megumi | Megumi's Mom (OC) CHAPTER COUNT: 1/3 WORD COUNT: 8900+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | (eventual) smut | ooc sukuna | female reader CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity/strong language | alcohol use | cigarette smoking | age gap | unhealthy simping XD SPOILERS: N/A

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

His hair was the color of cherry blossoms, that's the first thing you noticed. It was the softest shade of pink, easy on the eyes, reminding you of the tendrils of filtered rays of the sun lightly touching the edges of clouds very early in the morning. Or your favorite angora wool sweater.

The man stole your attention from the book you were reading when you chanced a look from your periphery just to check who sat on the stool beside your usual spot on the bar – the seat at the very end by the wall. Your planned glance turned into a furtive stare at the sight of him from his candy-floss-hued hair, the rippling muscles hidden under his white oxford shirt and the array of tattoos that peeked through his neatly folded sleeves. And boy, since when did men smell like vanilla and spring while also exuding such a virile scent?

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at the thought, internally shaking your head at your behavior. You should not be staring at people, and though you weren't exactly ogling him, you were still observing him enough to associate him with your favorite article of winter clothing.

"Hey. The usual for you?" you heard Maki, the bar owner, ask, giving you the idea that the man was a regular. How you haven't spotted him before was a mystery.

If it was already hard concentrating on the novel you were reading, you've completely forgotten about it when you heard him say, "Make that single-malt." It's either the gates of hell opened at the sudden heat you felt on your skin at the sound of his voice or the gates of heaven did with how delicious it sounded in your ear, thick like honey and deep with a distinct ring to it. It got you wondering what his mother craved for when she was pregnant with him, and your brain said, "Greek gods," when you lifted your eyes from the current page you were reading and briefly exchanged looks with him as he shifted his line of vision from Maki to you.

You turned your eyes back to your book, making it seem like you were just absently looking about, but in reality, it took herculean effort to wrench your gaze from him. In that brief meeting of your eyes, the features of his face registered in your head like a bar code scanner, etching itself in your mind like a white-hot brand. He wasn't shockingly handsome, but he was beautiful in his own right with those intense eyes that reminded you of drowning pools and the rugged yet refined planes of his face. It was as if an artist painted him in passionate anger, slowly fell in love with the piece and began redefining his features with gentler strokes.

You turned the page of your book despite not getting any reading done. Well, it has been the case for a considerable amount of minutes now, but you tried anyway, furiously staring down at the new page but not comprehending anything. Your eyes kept scanning the same sentence over and over again but it was not sinking in at all.

"Excuse me, miss," that deep voice you've already developed a strange affection for assaulted your senses again, making your head snap up to the direction it was coming from. Hell, you think you'll do its owner's bidding just hearing it at the rate you were going, reacting automatically as if you were programmed with a voice prompt or something.

You were about to look at him but Maki caught your attention as she pushed the smoothie you ordered towards you, placing it precisely in front of you on the hardwood surface with her fingers. She arched a brow at you, causing you to stiffen on your seat.

You've been coming to the quiet little bar since you grew old enough to drink. In fact, you considered it your regular watering hole, going there whenever you can even in the day as it doubled as a gastro-pub. You've already come to know the staff who reserved the spot for you every single time you told them you were coming, particularly the tough but very lovable Maki. She's basically a friend now, and you knew you were acting off if she was giving you odd looks.

"Thanks, Maki," you said just in time, even managing to smile. She just shook her head at you before walking away to tend to another client.

"I have to know what book you are reading," the person beside you said just as you began sipping on your drink, which, you've noted, was a cherry blossom tea smoothie that reminded you of him.

You let go of the straw between your lips, swallowing hard. Turning your attention to him, you found him sitting sideways, chin propped on the heel of his palm as he regarded you. "Huh?" was all you could manage to say to him.

A slow, crooked smile etched itself across his mouth, the action appearing sensuous with the gradual way his expressions changed. "That book," he said for your benefit. "May I know what it is about?"

You just blinked, still questioning yourself if he was addressing you.

"If you're that engrossed about it, it must be great," he said. "Mind telling me the title?"

"Book?" you asked dumbly. He was really frying your brain.

He pointed at the book you were holding with his lips, protruding them slightly before smiling again. Jesus, you loved the way he smiled. The gesture didn't belong there when you've already thought he was the smirking, grinning-devil type. It was too soft a gesture, but then again his hair was shell-pink – a contradiction to his stridently brawny features.

"Oh." Despite yourself, you found yourself chuckling. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Not by the book, I hope."

You looked away, smiling to yourself as you closed the object in question and slid it over to him. When you looked at him, you were surprised to see him actually reading the synopsis at the back, interest flickering in his dark eyes. You were already expecting him to just read the title, probably the author, too, thinking he was just flirting with you judging by his last words. But he was actually reading it.

"It's about an architect," he stated. "He must be mind-blowingly awesome if you're too transfixed on his story."

"No, Howard Roark is mostly a recalcitrant bastard who breaks rules here and there, doesn't cooperate or collaborate and is stone-faced about most anything."

"But it's what you like about him," he supplied.

You nodded. "He’s a breath of fresh air in a world governed by stuffy archaic principles. The spring to a long, stagnant winter of conformity. I'm in love with him." Noticing the look of amusement on his face, you were quick to add, "What?"

"Nothing." His smile didn't waver though. "Are you an architect, too?"

"Too?" you repeated with inflection then tilted your head. "Ah, you're an architect, huh?"

"Guilty."

"Any projects of note?" you asked, tilting your head in wonder when he seemed flustered. "What is it?"

He shook his head slowly. "You're very straightforward."

At that, you grinned. "Should I take you out to dinner before I get that information?" You sipped leisurely at your smoothie, glad that you throw him off as much as he flusters you.

"You don't have to," he found himself answering anyway. "But I work for a firm, so they get most of the credit. We built that new hotel at Shinjuku."

"Eh? Didn't pin you for a baroque kind of guy."

"You know..." He was all ears now judging by how he leaned closer to you. He leveled his expression to yours then. "So, what kind of guy did you think I am?"

There it is, you thought, the smirk you've been waiting for. Without giving it much thought, you said, "The Howard Roark type, of course."

***

"You seriously don't remember, do you?"

It wasn't that you didn't. You simply had no idea how you got home, considering how you ended up all smashed after enjoying too many margaritas after your smoothie. You seriously just didn't know certain things. You didn't know what happened after you reached your limit. And out of all the things you know you should not have missed, you didn't know his name.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a headache, trying to fill in every bit of information your friends were trying to leech out of you in your addled state. You've been expecting it - the great inquisition - especially after you returned in a state lesser than they've been expecting, unconscious, according to the collective stories of your roommates, when you told them you were just stepping out to get some reading done. And on a school night, no less. Very atypical of you indeed.

"What should I be remembering?" you responded to Ieiri. You weren't exactly fond of her worrisome nature although you knew she was just watching your back especially since she has been rather disapproving of your escapades with these guys you somewhat dated back then. You appreciated it, but it didn't mean you liked it.

"Oh, I don't know, Y/N. Strawberry blond? Tats? Drives a Jeep? Ring any bells?" she said, jogging your memory. "He came knocking at two in the morning, carrying you in his arms. I mean he was hot according to Satoru, but do you even know the guy?"

“Cherry blossom,” you absently corrected the color Ieiri mentioned.

“Huh?”

“Him, I remember.” You smiled at the thought, not hiding your delight from them. You were sure they were just annoyed that they weren't in on the action since Satoru, your other friend and roommate, who seem nonexistent recently, was the one who interacted with the man you met and supposedly brought you back to the house you rented with all of them. And Satoru doesn't know basic decorum to actually ask what the man’s name was. "Howard."

"Howard?" Suguru, another one of your friends who was in the literature department as you were, asked. "Howard Roark?" He knew the reference, obviously. You forced him to read the book before it even became one of your study materials.

You nodded enthusiastically. "He's an architect."

"He didn't look like a 'Howard,' apparently," Ieiri said.

"That name is from her favorite book," Suguru supplied, his dark eyes shifting to you as he tucked some stray strands of his long, raven locks which were currently tied in a half-up. "So your guy's an architect, too."

"That, but he isn't 'my guy' and I don't know what his name is."

He grinned then. "If you're openly calling him by the name of the character you claim to be in love with, I'm assuming..."

"No!" Ieiri gasped.

You laughed despite the action making your head hurt. You were still hungover after all, but you didn't mind, not when you knew you had a good night. Probably a great night to allow yourself to be hammered like you have been. You only ever drank to your fill when the company is great and when you were in a jovial mood.

"It's nothing like that. He just feels like spring time. Looks like it, too." You waved your hands in front of you for emphasis. Still, your expressions said otherwise.

You weren't in love with the man because you didn't believe in mushy things like love at first sight, but you knew you liked him, just that you weren't getting your hopes up cause there's a chance you might not see him ever again, assuming your meeting was something transient like the blossoms his hair made you think of. Even if he was a regular at Maki's, if your schedules didn't coincide with one another, it would not be easy to meet. You've been coming to the same bar for years and yet, you've only ever seen him that time. You never really know.

But then, you got your answer pretty quickly.

From: Satoru

See you at 7 tomorrow night. Same place.

That’s how Satoru's message read, sent late the previous night. You almost forgot about the agreement you’ve had with him to get unlimited barbecue after sleeping the rest of the day but you made it out just in time. It was something you did with all three of your friends as a way to bond with them individually.

You glanced at the clock on your phone, feeling the stares of the restaurant staff on you. Well, you’ve been there for more than an hour waiting for him. One hour and thirteen minutes to be precise. All you’ve ordered so far was a glass of lemonade and you were able to finish that in the first half hour, sitting on a table for two when evidently, you were alone. All your texts were ignored and your calls were always being redirected to voicemail.

“Where the fuck are you, Gojo Satoru?” you asked him in one of your messages, hissing low into your phone just so the other diners would not be offended by your words. You got a message another twenty minutes later, the sound of your phone almost making you jump from your seat. However, when you looked at it, it was from an unknown number.

You were about to check the message when one of the waitresses came to your table, pad and pen on the ready. She’s always the one who served you whenever you and your friends would go there for a dose of beef and pork fat, and she has always been nice to you.

“Not to be nosy but I think your friend isn’t coming.”

You nodded, grimacing. “Tell me about it.”

“The boss has been giving you the stink eye, too.”

Looking over the counter, you saw the elderly man really looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes, muttering to himself. You knew how the owner could get, but you simply loved going there since their food is good and the service is just the same. You smiled ruefully at the woman before you. “I’ll have a sukiyaki set and warm sake, please. Thank you.”

“Would that be all?”

“Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She flashed you a bright smile before disappearing into the back rooms.

You almost forgot the message you saw earlier, but then, your phone lit up again with that familiar tone. The new message was from the same number.

From: Unknown

How are you?

From: Unknown

I hope you’re okay.

You frowned, not having the slightest clue as to who could be texting you.

From: You

Who is this?

Your order came but there was no response from the mystery texter or Satoru. You felt pathetic looking at your phone every once in a while as you ate and drank. Normally, you wouldn’t even have given anybody, including your best friends, the time of the day, making you wait for longer than an hour without as much as a message. You don’t ever wait for people over the agreed meeting time. You hated it with passion. And you were already thinking of ways to make Satoru pay.

You were about to eat a mouthful of beef when you heard the chair across you being dragged back. Your eyes flicked to the direction, and to your utter shock, you almost dropped your chopsticks if it weren’t for the hand that reached out and held onto your hand, securing the utensils.

Once again, you were sitting on your usual spot at the bar, eyes clashing with those intense ones owned by the pink-haired guy who apparently drove a charcoal grey Jeep and reminded you of spring, the same one who drove you home the other night.

“Careful,” he said, his scent assaulting your senses.

A lump formed in your throat, making you unable to form proper words, so you settled for putting down the chopsticks. You folded your hands together on your lap, recovering from your consternation before you finally looked at him, unable to help it but grin. He looked different that day, more laid back in a white baseball cap mussing his candy-floss hair down, a loose-fitting shirt in the same hue and jeans. He looked so fresh, you felt the air around you cool down considerably.

“How did you…” you hesitated and shook you head. “Hello.”

He broke into that crooked smile. “Crazy how the moment you sent the message, I saw you through the glass walls while I drove past.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again, not quite knowing how to react to it when suddenly, the first part of his statement registered in your mind. “Wait, message?” You picked up your phone, showing him the messages. “This is you?”

He nodded slowly. “Looks like you’re doing great.” He regarded the bottle of sake on the table. “I had to get your number to check up on you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, no, not at all. Thank you by the way.” You chuckled, saving his number and naming him Spring God in your contacts. “I wasn’t really expecting you to bring me home.”

“I got your address from your driving license.” He grinned then. “I thought of taking you back to my place, but I didn’t know how that would sit with you.”

Who says chivalry was dead? “I’m sorry for acting crazy, if I did anyway." You chuckled. "I don't remember…and for having to bring me all the way to the house.”

“It’s fine. It was lovely meeting Satoru.”

At that, your face flushed red. You winced. “I’m sorry for whatever he did while I was out of it.” He could be crazy at times, and you wouldn't be surprised if he did something untoward.

He shook his head, letting out a slight chuckle. “He was very nice to me, don’t worry.” He furrowed his brows then. “I also got your name. Y/N. I don’t know if you forgot to tell me or you just didn’t trust me enough, but I’d like to think it’s the former since you didn’t seem to think twice about getting wasted with me like you did.”

You deliberately didn’t tell him your name, but he was making it sound a little nicer. It wasn’t really something you planned on doing again, meeting him, but somehow, he found you. You shook you head, coming clean. “If you put it that way, okay, but really, I thought it was better if you didn’t know.”

“Hmm. Why is that?”

You found it endearing that he tilted his head a bit to the side when he asked the question. Your lips curled upwards at the corner. “I just never thought I’d meet you again.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

You laughed awkwardly at his remark. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Okay.”

You requested for another order of barbecue for him. He declined but you insisted. “Come on. My treat for your act of kindness.” You snickered. “Besides, my supposed date bailed.”

“Date?”

Sighing, you said, “Well, not really. Satoru. We agreed to meet here over an hour ago but he hasn’t been answering my messages or calls. Something probably came up.”

He eyed you thoughtfully. “If you don't mind me asking, is he your...?"

"My what?"

"Your boyfriend…maybe."

You chuckled at the thought, but then you realized you didn't even know his name. "I don't really tell strangers about things like that," you teased.

“Okay, but I thought we’re past being strangers.” He smirked then and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

“We’re in the getting-to-know-each-other phase,” you told him with a laugh, acceding. "Since I didn't tell you my name, I didn't expect you to tell me yours. Plus I didn't ask, so may I have yours?"

"Sukuna," he said. "Ryomen Sukuna."

"Su-ku-na," you repeated, liking the feel of the syllables as they rolled out of your tongue. Finally, the person you've gotten so fond of in just a short time had a name. You didn't know what his name meant but it seemed to match him well regardless of how arbitrary it was to his person. You couldn't think of any better name though. "I like your name. It's pretty." You smiled brightly at him then. "And no, Satoru is not my boyfriend."

Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute puzzle to you. How he could look so badass and pretty much intimidating with his strapping physique and inked skin – throw in the multiple piercings on his left ear which you were noticing or the first time – while also pulling off all these adorable little actuations was a quandary to you. Tall, solidly built men like him should not be reminding you of soft, cute things, but the moment he blinked in confusion, you knew you couldn't get enough of it.

"Nobody ever said that about my name, but thanks," he returned in that deep voice after a moment's pause. And was that a dusting of roses over his cheeks? The surprises you were getting from this man was endless. He really was such a breath of fresh air, so far from the usual stereotypes.

Your face seemed to be perpetually pulled into a smile whenever you were around him, and you didn't think you were doing a good job suppressing the urge to be beaming like an idiot around him. "So, anyway, what made you think that blue-eyed idiot is my boyfriend?" you asked, changing the topic.

"Well, he was a bit hostile at first when he took you from me, making me explain things but then started apologizing after. He told me you could be a handful when inebriated..." He let his voice trail off as if letting you chew on his words.

"You agree with him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Sukuna pretended to frown. "He also calls you 'his princess'."

You threw your head back, covering your eyes momentarily in embarrassment. "Now I wish you met Ieiri and Suguru instead," proceeding to explain that the nickname was something akin to what a father would call his precious daughter.

"He was rather intimidating, but I guess he's just looking out for you."

"He's still not off the hook for standing me up," you quipped, "But you finding him intimidating is funny."

"Why?"

You scoffed, gesturing over to him. "I think you can snap him in two if you wished, too."

"He was scary," Sukuna insisted.

"He's harmless...most of the time, but yeah, he’s rather protective. That’s one of my dads for you."

He laughed then. "There's nothing scarier than a fiercely protective friend…or a doting father. I can't muscle my way out of that for sure."

"Ah, then you'll find Ieiri scarier."

The night pretty much went well and ended on a good note. Sukuna did most of the talking for the rest of the night. You learned he was six years older than you at twenty nine, one of the head architects at the firm he worked for, has a love-hate relationship with his job cause he wants to draw portraits instead, was a delinquent when he was younger but got away with things cause he was a straight-A student, loved dogs so much that he cries when they die in movies, was closer to his mom, got his tattoos on a sudden whim, and was pretty much a sweet, charming genuine person which contrasted his appearance. What you see isn't what you get. That just isn't how it worked with him.

You loved it when he talked. It was rather entertaining as he had a way of telling stories which made you feel like you were actually there when it happened. Eventually, you forgot the reason why you were at the restaurant in the first place. It was as if you went there for the purpose of meeting Sukuna himself. Satoru was all but forgotten as you dissolved into carefree laughter and playful banters, and you felt at ease and more like yourself around him, pretty much like when you were with your three favorite people in the world.

“It’s not really that funny,” Sukuna told you, watching you laugh heartily at that one episode in his freshmen year when he made a mistake of going on a date with the wrong girl who happened to have the same name as his supposed date. You continued to laugh as if he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just crazy that both of them were there at the same time. I mean, what were the odds?”

He parked by the sidewalk in front of your house, killing the engine. “That’s the reason why I have never agreed to a single blind date ever again.” He pulled the key out of the ignition, glancing at the direction of your house. “We’re here.”

Your laughter died down when you followed the direction of his gaze. The lights were off except for the one lighting up the porch of the house you shared with your friends. You returned your gaze to him then. “Thanks for driving me home. Again.”

“I enjoyed your company. It’s the least I can do.”

You smiled warmly at him, reaching over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek when he suddenly turned his head a fraction towards you. That minute change made your lips end up against his instead. He was surprised at first and remained immobile against you, but when you pulled away, he chased you back, connecting your mouths, his lips feeling soft and warm yet emitting that air of dominance as it coaxed yours to move in sync with his. You were kissing him back in no time, but you immediately caught yourself and withdrew, utterly flustered.

Your heart thudded heavily as he held you in his intense gaze, his tongue slowly running over his lower lip, making you even more mentally incapacitated. It made you want to just pull him back to you and covet those lips with yours again. You snapped out of it though. You already knew he was capable of hot-wiring and hijacking your brain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you told him when you were able to form words again.

Sukuna looked at you from under his lashes, smiling slightly. “I’m not.”

Taken aback, you chuckled nervously. “No?”

He shook his head, reached over and ruffled your hair a bit. “Go inside. It’s late.” You nodded and disembarked from the car while he leaned on the steering wheel, watching you. You were already on the pavement, about to close the door, when he spoke again. “Can I come see you again?”

“Sure,” you said without thinking. “Good night, Sukuna.” Man, you just loved saying his name.

“Bye, Y/N. Good night.”

He drove away while you made your way towards your doorstep. Your fingers flew to your lips once you were standing on your porch, smiling to yourself at the realization of having kissed him. Shaking your head, you fished for the keys from your pocket and entered the house, not quite remembering how you got to your room, but you slept that night with pleasant dreams of running your fingers through pink locks of hair.

***

"I'm really sorry. Something came up and my phone died."

You acceded. It wasn’t as if Satoru did something so big. You went to the outdoor kiosks near the parking lot by the football grounds to catch up on some reading while Satoru ate and told you bits of his past few days, since he got held up at their family estate. Having such a traditional, high-ranking family in the country sure had its downsides, and you weren't about to make him even more agitated than he already was. He had it difficult, you knew that, and you weren’t about to be petty over him not coming to your supposed bonding time. He may be happy-go-lucky but you felt tension simmering just under the surface when you squeezed his hand in assurance.

Suguru and Ieiri followed shortly after Satoru fetched you from class, also surprised to see him there. "So, you finally decided to show up," the former said.

"Don't ask," Satoru said.

"Wasn't planning to," Suguru scoffed, his attention shifting to you. “What are you working on anyway?” he asked, flipping the file you were reading haphazardly to peer through the contents.

“I’m making an analysis report on ‘The Romantic Manifesto’.” you answered, looking up from the notes you were writing when your eyes suddenly strayed over his shoulder. You almost did a double-take, glancing at Suguru before returning your line of vision at the spot beyond where he sat.

“It’s due…” your voice trailed off when you realized just what, or rather who, you were looking at. You weren’t so sure whether what you were seeing was real or a mirage, a very familiar, specific and detailed one, but then, you figured it was the former when the person smirked and cocked his head to the side, beckoning you over to where he leaned against his grey Jeep as he raised a cup of what looked like cherry blossom tea.

Suguru arched a brow at you, looking behind him but not really noticing the object of your distraction. “Hey, you okay?”

Ieiri followed the direction of your gaze and nudged you when she saw who you were looking at. "Is that your Howard? Damn, girl. He’s sizzling."

You nodded, but at that same moment, you rose from the table without any explanation, your feet immediately leading you towards the outdoor carpark. When you were within earshot, you said, “What are you doing here?”

You stopped a few feet from him, glancing behind you to where the others had already turned their heads to follow the path you took, flashing you shit-eating grins. It wouldn’t surprise you anymore if they had pieced together who the person was before you. They claimed to be your ‘parents’ but acted like children at times.

“I brought you tea.” Sukuna walked towards you, standing so close that you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as you inhaled his scent and took in his appearance, looking immaculate in a plain white shirt and faded jeans, but your brain only seemed to register those lips and the memory of how they felt against yours.

You shook your head, snapping out of your trance, mentally cursing at yourself. “Hi.” You exhaled loudly, trying hard not to smile like an idiot while you absently twirled your hair on your finger, suddenly seeing the world through a pinkish filter. "How do you keep finding me?"

Sukuna's smile dropped. “Did I come at an inconvenient time?” he asked gently, trying hard not to sound miffed, but he obviously was taken aback by your words.

“No.” You shook your head, placing a hand over your forehead. You finally smiled at him, letting out a choked snicker. “No, Sukuna. It’s good to see you. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And you didn't really tell me you were coming.”

He grinned at you then but he still appeared unsure, placing a hand behind his neck. “Right.”

You flashed him a helpless look. “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m just really surprised.”

“Hmm." He moved closer to you, wrapping your hand around the transparent disposable cup. His proximity was affecting you in ways you couldn't admit out loud. "Are you happy to see me, too?"

"Too? So, you're happy to see me?"

"Always."

That's it. You're done for. Trying to avoid his intense gaze and escaping his scrutiny, you glanced over your shoulder to find everyone on your table observing you blatantly. Satoru raised a thumb at you while Ieiri was giggling with Suguru.

"Are those your friends?" Sukuna commented, his minty breath fanning against the side of your face which made you turn a little too quickly to face him again only to be confronted by his face leaning towards yours, mere centimeters away.

“Y-yeah.” You leaned a bit backwards but he moved forward. “That they are.” You stepped backwards again, nearly faltering on your feet, but you immediately gained your balance when he grabbed you by the arm, steadying you.

"Are you alright?" Sukuna asked, looking at you with concern written all over his face which morphed into wonder when you said, "Yeah, you're just overwhelming."

"Huh?"

"I can't think properly when I'm around you," you stated casually, your expressions not giving anything away as per usual. You arched a brow at him when he did the same. "You hot-wire my brain."

"I know what you mean." He smirked despite his confusion. "Is that good or bad?"

You eyed him thoughtfully, biting on your lower lip. "Good for you, bad for me. You can probably tell me to eat dirt and I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He chuckled, looking at you tenderly. "You're too honest."

"To a fault," you agreed, "Suguru tells me all the time. Wanna meet them?"

He ruffled your hair. "Sure."

***

While you weren't exactly expecting to see Sukuna again after the night you met, he became of constant presence around you. You have gone out with him several times over the course of two months. He was a busy person and you also had your priorities, but he always makes you feel special whenever you two would be out and about, behaving like such a gentleman opening and closing doors for you, naturally shifting closer to traffic while you walked, bringing an extra jacket in case you felt cold or a larger umbrella so you don't get wet, bringing you your favorite tea whenever he could.

He picked you up from school for lunch twice, making the most of the hour, and one time, you brought him lunch at work when he suddenly canceled on you, saying he was swamped with work. He sounded really upset so you decided to go to him instead. You brought Suguru with you as a buffer, but Sukuna's colleagues still teased him. He was different in the office – gruff and strict which fitted him more – but he still beamed at you happily when you brought him food, not caring who saw.

Apart from the brief phone calls, you two never really texted. It wasn't really your thing and he didn't like it either, so it could go days on end without you saying anything to each other, but when you do get a chance to speak, it would always be like picking up on where you've left off. He has only ever sent you two messages. One to remind you to take good care of yourself because he was going to be away for a while and another one a week later asking if you wanted to go out with him that coming Friday night.

"Your timing's off," you told him over the phone. You really wanted to say yes, but, "Ieiri, the boys and I are going out that night. Gang tradition."

"Some other time then?"

"Sure."

You hung up after a few more exchanges of words, getting started on reading some notes when Ieiri entered the kitchen. "Was that Howard?"

"Yeah. He's inviting me to go out on Friday, but I already said yes to clubbing with you guys."

She grinned cheekily, wrapping an arm around you as she poked you on the cheek. At times, it feels like Satoru was rubbing off on her. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch us for the hot architect?"

"Hot architect –" You snickered. "Did you just say that?"

"I was supposed to say 'sugar daddy,' literally and figuratively. Sugar and his cotton candy hair. Get it?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, shaking your head. It was supposed to be amusing, but when Ieiri says it, it just sounds weird. "Can I read in peace now?"

She left you alone, but laughed at your expense.

Friday couldn't have rolled around fast enough and you headed out with your friends at the club owned by a friend of yours, prepared to party in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a crop top and your hair hanging about in wavy layers. You were already expecting the place to be cramped as hell given the day of the week so much so that Suguru had to hold onto you tightly so as not to lose you when you entered until you found the area you had reserved for the night. It was for good measure too since the place was drenched in purple, blue and green laser lights which were disorienting at first. And so, your night began as such.

You were in the middle of dancing, only pausing when you had to down your nth shot for the night when your eyes suddenly strayed to the bar area at the elevated part of the club adjacent to the the leather seats. You looked away but returned your gaze towards said direction when you realized this very familiar guy was looking at you. He was watching you as you danced and let loose, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You craned your neck, looking back and thinking the guy looked a lot like Sukuna, but then he couldn’t be. He was engaged elsewhere, still you continued to ogle him until you were pretty sure it wasn’t the same person. But the longer you looked, the more it was being proven to you that it was him.

That lopsided smile drew itself across his lips, seeing as how you were doubting yourself about his identity. There was no mistaking that look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he smiled even if the action didn't belong there.

“Sukuna?” you mouthed his name and he nodded, motioning for you to come over with his head. It had been a solid ten days since you last saw him, and for some reason, your heart raced at the thought of seeing him there.

Without saying a word to the people you were with, you squeezed yourself through the crowd, your feet carrying to the upstairs bar, to Sukuna. It took you a while to traverse the space between you, and when you finally stood before him, all you could do was smile up at him, taking in the soft look about him as he regarded you which were at odds to those fiery eyes that had the capability to turn into bright orbs of light when he beamed down at you.

“Hello, Y/N. Once again, fate has brought you to me,” he said rather dramatically, a smirk drawing itself across his pretty mouth.

Laughter escaped your throat, unable to say anything when you realized that you actually missed him, missed looking at him. Unable to help it, you stood on your toes and reached out to touch his hair, the action surprising the both of you. He eyed you, his expressions that of a half-smile and a look of confusion while you retracted your hands as quickly as you felt his soft locks with your fingertips, wincing at the realization of what you were doing.

At that, he laughed heartily, stealing your hand and pressing it over the side of his head. “Go ahead. I don’t mind you touching me,” he told you, staring into your eyes that you felt like all the air in the room was gone.

You blinked at him, processing what he said and joined in his mirth. “You're here!” You shook your head when it dawned to you that you were stating the obvious. “I’m sorry. How are you, Sukuna?”

“Pink?” he offered and chuckled at his own joke which made your face heat up. “Kidding. I’m great. I missed you these past days. How are you?”

“You did?” You felt your insides melting at his statement, made worse when he nodded to confirm it. “I’m fine. Great. Where have you disappeared to anyway?”

He snickered a your question. “Madrid.”

Your jaw dropped. “As in Spain?”

He nodded. “Had to do something there.”

“Uh-huh.” His words were rather obscure, but you didn’t want to encroach on his private life.

“What are the odds that we’re at the same club?”

“The owner is a friend,” you answered, smiling awkwardly as you glanced at the direction of your friends on the dance floor. You saw all of them looking at you. Suguru winked at you, giving you the thumbs up, making you laugh at his silliness.

“The gang’s all here, I see.”

“What?” You faced Sukuna, finding him leaning close beside you against the metal balustrade. Just then, a waiter passed by holding a whole tray of shots, and before you could duck, he grabbed you by the waist so that you were leaning against him with no quantifiable space between your bodies. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze, your thoughts clouded by the familiar smell of rain in a bamboo forest during Maytime. “T-thanks…”

He hummed in response to your gratitude, but he didn’t let you go. “I didn’t know you enjoyed places like this, too.”

“Why is that?” you asked, feigning ignorance to how close you two were.

"I never pinned you for the party animal type. I kinda developed a fondness for that quiet, nerdy girl sitting at the corner of the pub."

"Not exactly. I prefer Maki's place to be honest but coming here once in a while doesn't hurt. Especially with those three." You frowned slightly at him then as you thought of something. “So, why didn’t you approach me?” You motioned towards the dancefloor. “I'm sure the three-headed monster won't mind if you joined us. You alone?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but aren't you supposed to be hanging out with them?" You grabbed his arm before he could refuse you and started leading him towards where the others were.

However, he had other plans in mind. Again, he hooked an arm around your waist until your back was leaning against him. You eyed him sideways, startled by his actions, but unable to counteract it anyway as you’re just stunned speechless all the while. “You can go back to them, Y/N, but I don’t think I should go with you.”

You turned around, gently easing away from his hold. “Why not? They already know you, and they like you.”

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a party pooper.” He leaned towards you, tilting his head to the side while his lower lip slightly jutted out.

"What are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes at him then snickered.

He eyed you seriously then. “Just in case this is a friends-only affair?”

“Satoru already ruined that by bringing his girls into the mix.” You laughed at him when you saw him hesitate. “Come on, Sukuna. Join us. For me?” You showed him your best impression of puppy-dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

When you saw that he wasn’t budging, you changed your argument. “Fine. Dance with me then.” You didn’t give him any time to contradict you as you took him by the hand and dragged him to the dancefloor.

He was just standing still, looking uncomfortable as you started to groove to the beat, so you took his arms and started moving them until he was moving on his own, finally breaking into that smile. He looked too awkward that you wanted to laugh but decided against it, simply raising your hands and feeling the music.

“Aren’t you having fun?” you asked him as you were bobbing your head to the bass.

“I am!” he answered above the music.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun. Are you shy?” You chuckled openly at that.

“No.”

“You don’t dance?”

“I can dance.”

You giggled. “Then show me what you’ve got!”

Without a warning, he started moving in sync with you, taking your hands in his and finally letting loose in such a graceful manner as you both got into the beat and started waving and swaying against one another, his hands slowly running at your sides in sensual rhythms that got you reeling in excitement. You almost forgot that you were with other people as you danced with him. It was fun and it felt good to be that carefree, not minding your friends, drinks flowing in nonstop.

Soon, the group you’ve left joined you and Sukuna. They all greeted him excitedly while the boys exchanged high-fives with him as they were dancing. Satoru and the two girls who were with him also joined in and somewhere along that, Suguru offered everyone cigarettes, and you gladly took one when you saw Sukuna taking one as well. You didn’t really smoke on a regular basis but you didn’t exactly shy away from the so-called cancer sticks.

After taking another shot, you pulled Sukuna out of the dancefloor, hollering at the others as you raised your cigarette, signaling where you were going in case they wanted to come with. You made your way to the smoking area at the veranda situated at the back of the building with the older male in tow. You were pretty much buzzed, calming down from the high you had while dancing, grinning wide as the cool night air met you, making your lungs expand as you breathed in.

Sukuna watched you as he took his place against the banister, following him shortly as you produced a lighter from your pocket, something that you always carried just in case.

“You smoke?” he asked, toying with his own battered stick, twirling it around his long fingers.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, watching his reaction. “And you?”

“Not really.”

“You took one anyway.” You wedged the item in question between your lips and raised the lighter, but before you could light it, it was pulled out from your mouth and the next thing you knew, Sukuna was kissing you, his lips pressed against yours as he pulled you closer by the hips which he seemed to have a fixation for since you came up to him. It was a soft yet urgent kiss that cajoled you to respond, and not long after, your lips were submissive clouds moving to the will of the wind that was his luscious mouth.

Like the first time you felt his lips against yours, electricity ran through your body as if he was touching you elsewhere apart from your mouth. It was driving you off the edge of sanity, and you knew you’d probably jump off a cliff for the male. He grinned at your dazed state when your eyes met after he finally pulled away, showing you the cigarette that was supposed to be between your lips before he unceremoniously laid claim to them.

“You’re going to ruin your lips by smoking. I’m keeping this,” he told you.

You were too mesmerized with the tingling feeling in your mouth while your eyes stayed glued to his as you blinked slowly, your mind and heart racing at a thousand miles per second. “W-why would you do that?” you stammered, feeling your throat go so dry that you had to drag the words out.

“Apart from the fact that it’s terribly unhealthy, it ruins your sense of smell and taste.” He waved the cigarette in front of you before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. “Scientific fact.”

You couldn’t quite process what he was saying. You were asking why he kissed you, but he misunderstood. “Are you going to taser me with your lips every single time I’m about to smoke?”

“Taser…” He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you. “I might just if it means these dangerous things don’t touch your pretty mouth.”

“What the –” You didn’t know if you would be scandalized by what he said or if you were going to laugh. The latter won and you tittered. “That’s a good one.”

“I mean it, Y/N.”

Boldness engulfed your whole thought process as you stepped closer to him, looking straight into his eyes. “And if I insist on it? Placing dangerous things in my pretty mouth? What are you going to do then?”

He, too, leaned forward, eyes flicking to your lips. “Then I guess I just have to keep your mouth too busy to even think about smoking again,” he whispered to you, his breath hitting your lips.

You smirked at him then. “I guess I just have to make sure you aren’t around if I do feel like smoking.”

He pouted. You burst out laughing.

You reached over and pinched both of his cheeks. “You’re so adorable.”

Sukuna swatted your hands away, but smiled nonetheless. "You're the only one who says I'm adorable."

"You are. You just don't know it."

“Okay then. If you say so.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear then, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Not really.”

“Good. I wanna do something for you.”

You eyed him questioningly. “Hmm. What?”

“That’s a surprise.”

It was already around two in the morning when everyone had the unanimous decision to leave the club which was still packed. You, too, were getting tired especially after Ieiri ended up hammered and Satoru was emptying his guts through his mouth. Suguru was a bit drunk, too, but he was trying his best to help you take care of them. Sukuna had been very nice all night, even helping you load Satoru and Ieiri into the backseat of Suguru’s car.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked you after shutting the door to the backseat.

“No, I’m gonna be fine. Besides, I can’t just leave Suguru to deal with them both.” You motioned to his Jeep. “You should go ahead, too.”

Sukuna grimaced as he nodded. “I guess that would be for the best. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. You take good care now.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” He stepped forward and pulled you against him, hugging you, enveloping you in his warmth and that scent you loved profusely. “It’s really great seeing you tonight.”

You returned the gesture, smiling up at him as you tried to compose yourself. “It’s great seeing you, too.” You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek before giving him a gentle shove towards the car. “See you, Sukuna.”

He waved at you then boarded the car. You watched as it disappeared down the street before turning away to enter the club to get Suguru who was left to settle the bills. You found him seated on one of the couches, finding your way easily since the crowd thinned a bit.

“You okay, dude?” you asked when you reached him. He was pale and he looked like he was going to throw up anytime. “Do you need to go to the restroom?”

He shook his head. “Just get me out of here.”

You chuckled, leading him faster out of the club. You sat him down on passenger side and soothed his back, asking after him again as you started the engine. He said he was fine, laughing when he caught a glimpse of the two who were already passed out on the backseat with Satoru lying on Ieiri’s lap while her head was lolling limply to the side.

The drive was rather short without much cars on the road, but Suguru was still able to squeeze in a conversation, and of all the topics he could broach, it had to be about Sukuna.

“I thought Sukuna will be driving you home,” he began, glancing at you.

“He offered, but I can’t just leave you.”

“That would have been okay.” He glanced at the rearview mirror then, checking on the two, you could only guess. He could be such a mother hen at times. “I think he’s cool.”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s really good-looking,” Suguru threw in with a chuckle. “Just date already.”

You chuckled. “Why don’t you date him instead?”

“Don’t you want to try it out with him?”

“He hasn’t even asked me to date him.”

“Yeah, but he already kissed you –”

“How did you know about that?” you demanded, mortified. Your cheeks were heating up again at the memory of it.

“Well, you’re in a public place.” He laughed. “So, it’s bound to end in dating anyway.”

“Not necessarily.” You turned sideways to look at him. “He’s older after all, not that I see the age gap as a problem. But you know, he might just be passing time.”

“He obviously likes you. If you date him, it’s a win-win situation. You like him, too, you just don’t know it.”

You scoffed. “How can you say that?”

He blew a raspberry. Typical Suguru behavior. “You can be yourself around him. You’re all smiley face around him, too. I saw you. You can’t lie to me.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. You look your best that way. And don’t ever think you are just a pastime. I’ll kill him if he treats you as such.” He smiled knowingly at you. “Besides, you should date properly. Enough with your flings with stupid boys in campus.”

“Okay, dad.” You sighed, trying to contain your excitement. “I do like him though. He’s so nice to me.”

Suguru reached over patting you on the shoulder. “Ah! My daughter is a grown-woman.”

You swatted at his hand, laughing at his antics.

-end of part 1-

If you're curious who Howard Roark is, he's one of my fave literary characters from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead." He's excellently made. That's it.

Can architect!sukuna please call me "sweetheart," too?

If you want to be included in the tag list, please DM me :) I'll be posting every week (or I'll try to anyway). Someone remind me to post the next chapters please?

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did. I don't know what I'm trying to prove there, but haha!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20210618]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[mosylufanfic]

Ooooh! I have a NaNo prompt. Cisco discovers Caitlyn has a collection of pretty, smooth rocks, and Cait discovers Cisco really likes moss. Together, they create some awesome terrariums to commemorate moments and to give as gifts.

This was an adorable idea! 

Assembling Our Ecosystem

For as long as he'd known her, Caitlin shouldn't have any surprises left for Cisco. Which was why, the weekend he came to visit Central City and help her re-paint her living room, he was taken aback to lift a box and find it nearly rip his arms out.  

He hadn't been that lazy about arm day, had he?

“Caitlin,” he called out. “Why is this box so heavy? Is it full of rocks or what?"

"Which box?" She tacked the last sheet of plastic over the couch and went over to peer at his box. "Oh. Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"That's all my rocks."

He set it down with a grunt. "Literal rocks."

She opened the box to show him. "Yes."

He blinked at the plastic boxes with neatly arranged, colorful rocks, some glossy and angular, some smooth and matte. Then he blinked at her. "This new?"

He kept discovering stuff like that, since moving away. Caitlin would mention that she'd started taking piano lessons, or that Starbucks was trying to move in on Jitters territory. Which got the Jet Song from West Side Story stuck in his head for a day. Now that he'd been gone a few years, it felt a little like Central City was evolving away from the place that had been his home for decades into . . . someplace else.

But she shook her head. "I always liked picking up rocks here and there. Sometimes I'd save them to put on gravestones, you know, but sometimes I just like to keep them." She ran a finger over a pink crystal. "They're pretty. And nice to touch."

Huh. He'd never noticed her doing that. "Okay," he said. "Fair enough. But do I have to move them to the other room?"

She tried to pick up the box and yelped. "Okay, that's a lot heavier than I remember. Yes, shove it under the couch and I'll pull the plastic over it."

Later on, when they were both sweaty and paint spattered, she kissed him for the first time, and he wondered if this was something that had changed, or something that had always been there. He kissed her back and decided that whichever one it was, he liked it.

-

The first time she came to visit his apartment in Starling City, she came back from washing her hands and said rather sternly, "Please tell you intend to have moss in the bathroom."

"Yes," he said, checking the food in the saucepan. "Yes, I intend to have moss in the bathroom, that is intentional moss."

"Okay, next question, why do you have intentional moss in the bathroom?"

"I read this book," he said. "And the lady was like, a moss scientist, and actually moss is kind of interesting - okay, don't look at me like that. It was really cool and she was a good writer. She had another book on the bestseller list for weeks. But you know how you get weird obsessions when you're going through a breakup. Even one that was a long time coming."

She nodded. "So you've had a moss garden in your guest bathroom for the past three years?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess, kinda." When he pictured it, he actually had a lot of moss in the bathroom right now. They were getting into Hanging Moss Gardens of Babylon territory, to tell the truth. No wonder she was so surprised. 

"And you never mentioned it."

"It didn't come up!" He turned down the heat and reached out to tug her close. "Changing your mind about dating me?"

"Mmmm," she said, leaning in to kiss him. "Not so far."

-

Caitlin knew she got overly tense about some things. But if you asked her, Cisco was rather too laissez faire about the same things. Which in theory meant they should balance out, but mostly meant bickering. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said, which meant he was going to be so wrong, "but we're putting on a wedding, right? Not a child's birthday party? Why do we need party favors?"

"They're centerpieces," she said grumpily. "And they also function as gifts for the guests."

"Aren't they supposed to bring us gifts? And do people actually take the party favors?"

"I mean . . . some people. Yes."

"Uh-huh," he said doubtfully. "And what's the purpose of them other than to be party favors and to be something else you get all crazy about?"

She glared at him. He cleared his throat. "I mean, my darling and the love of my life, something else that gives you stress and trouble which I am here to relieve because, as mentioned, you are my sweetheart and my chosen partner?"

She allowed him to snuggle her, because that had been actually very sweet, and she'd been sweating over this for the past hour and wanted snuggles. "They're supposed to represent us. What we're all about. As a couple."

He opened his mouth.

"Do not say just our initials etched on a plaque or something. Please."

"I was gonna 3-D print them," he muttered. "It would have been fine." He frowned into the distance. "Hey, I can 3-D print some bowls or something."

"What? Just to be bowls?"

-

They didn't wind up using 3-d printed bowls, because apparently glass was much better for this. 

"Terrariums!" Barry said, picking one  up and turning it around. 

The collection of glass boxes, layered with gravel and soil, each one decorated with a particularly nice rock out of Caitlin's collection and filled with some of Cisco's moss, had taken them most of a weekend to assemble. But Caitlin thought they'd turned out really nice.

Barry seemed to agree. "Our turtle will love this."

"You still have a turtle?" Cisco asked. They were taking a break from setting up the reception hall to snarf down some pre-rehearsal, day-before-the-wedding sandwiches.

"Dude, they live forever."

"I know, I just haven't seen him in years."

"I thought it would be something a little more scientific," Iris said to Caitlin. "Like. Erlenmeyer flasks with your initials."

"Well, that is something we share, but it's not the only thing we share," Caitlin said. "This is made up of something we both just collected for fun, because we liked it, not because it's our job. And it's pretty, and with proper care, it'll grow and last."

Cisco blew her a kiss. "Just like us."

FINIS

[cgetbrmj]

Absolutely screaming and losing my mind ovefr this

(this is an actual novel at this point and no one needs to read it but I need to vent about this remind myself it was real lmao)

basically, the other week I ended up needing to stay a lot longer than I normally need to in that class - which is already annoying but also means that my usual spaces had other people working in them during that time so it was even more ugh and I told this guy in my class (who I should maybe make a fake name for idk) (who if you don't know, is only a year older than me but is like working as kind of a TA/kind of media/photos/odd jobs guy??) that I was stressing about where to work since I was staying later and he was immediately just like "Okay, well we can try and find a good spot for you, or you can come and hang out in my office with me while I work on some stuff too." and obviously I say yes??? So we hung out for ages and watched some fun videos in-between working and both info dumped to each other I think lol. (and he complemented some of my drawings I was doing which is like 😭🥺🥹, ya know?) And he also let me cover *cough* Decorate his name badge with dinosaur stickers so like - change in routine? Bad. My caregiver crush? Great.

Now that on its own is like a whole thing right? Well if anyone is still reading - buckle the f up. My day today? So so bad. Awful. But this guy is awesome.

(first of all though, I carry dino stickers with me everywhere and give them to my fav people and I've done that with this guy before and this morning the first thing he did when he saw me was say "I just got a new phone case btw so I need some cool dino stickers on there, think about which ones I should put on" and I almost squealed because are you kidding me??)

I was meant to be putting my artwork up on my wall today (exams and examiners and grades all happening so so soon - your girl is not ready.) and I came to the absolutely crushing realisation when i put my work on the floor in front of the wall with my teachers that hahahahahhaha they don't all fit. I literally just can't fit all my work. and I DEFINTELY can't fit my work in the way that I had been PLANNING to for MONTHS now.

Now I am generally a fairly emotional person, but I am also autistic and this is something that I had been expecting and planned for and had envisioned as I'd been painting my artworks and now it completely crumbled in front of me and I absolutely genuinely just started crying immediately. Like it was probably a comically short amount of time from realisation to just crying my eyes out in the middle of class lol. So i start having a mental breakdown, hands on my head, shoulders hitching, breathing abnormally, the whole thing. Just fully having a meltdown in class while my teacher is like 'it'll be fine' LUCKILY my friend/too good at at making me feel little, guy is there and gang-

I could actually scream he was the sweetest person ever. He was speaking really quietly and in a really soft voice and he was like "How about you come outside with me, and we'll go for a walk together and breathe for a second, yeah?" so we went on a walk and he didn't try and be cheery or anything like that which I greatly appreciated, he just let me cry for a while and then tried to help me put into words what the problems were. and then we went back inside and he said "Let's just take a break from it and not look at them right now, we'll grab your stuff and we can go and chill in my office and get your mind off it until you're ready to go back to it." and then PICKED UP MY BAG FOR ME 😭😭 like are you joking??? I'm going insane??

So we went up to his office and he showed me some videos and info dumped a little bit about some of his fav things until I was more calm, and then he helped me with some of my other work and was being so helpful and like so nice, so much praise and he kept talking all soft and he was being really patient with me even though I wasn't talking very loud. and my legs were shaking quite bad for ages and any time it got very bad he'd tilt his head and gently tap/hold my arm and ask if I was doing okay ughhhhhh

and eventually we went back down to my art stuff (where I was like 'you're stil gonna help me right? and he was like 'yeah, that's not even a question, of course.') but he had to leave to do some work but he made sure to tell me multiple times that he'd be coming right back in a couple hours and that he wasn't leaving for good and right before he left he told me that he promised he'd be back to help me more because "I still need some dino stickers."

Anyway I ended up crying so So so so many times but eventually he came back right before I was leaving and he told me "You'll be here tomorrow won't you? Yeah? I'll see you tomorrow, you did really well today, did a really good job, just go home and rest, kiddo."

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH right?😭😭😭

like obviously he doesn't know I regress, and obviously I'm not implying that he's actually looking after me, but he is such a sweet person and he makes me feel so safe to be around, and so little when he says things like that. Like today was such an awful day and I have a headache and feel yuck from crying so much and anxiety and ugh but MAN he looked out for me so well today and is such a caregivery figure and he just does it so good?

If anyone read this, so sorry you had to witness the length of this stupid ramble of mine but I needed that out of my system. It's been a day. Also wishing that any of my fellow regressors out there can get access to a caregiver crush of their own because god is it nice, even if they aren't aware of how helpful they are :)

Do you guys remember that guy in my class who is Very good at making me feel little™? Do you guys mind if I vent about him again?

[a-wayne-at-heart-too]

Ask: The 27th of April, the Last (and Long) Part

Bonus Ask:

[Stately Wayne Manor]

Jason: *helping Alfred clear out the dinner table* You think we should’ve asked Harley to stay for dinner? 

Alfred: If you wished to see Master Bruce’s hair turn to grey as you ate dessert, I don’t see why not.

Jason: *burps loudly and fans his breath away* Whoops. Sorry, Alf. Just my way of complimenting your cooking.

Alfred: *carrying the dishes to the kitchen* Then perhaps you should come here more often, Master Jason.

Jason: *following Alfred* I'd rather not cause any trouble.

Alfred: *stops in his tracks and turns to face Jason with a stern expression* And you don't think it troubles me that you feel unwelcome here?

Jason: *takes the dishes from Alfred’s hands, sets them on the kitchen island, and pulls him in for a hug* Alf, hey... I didn’t mean it like that. I know you guys care about me, it’s just...

Alfred: *sobbing into Jason's shirt* We've already lost you once... Once is enough, Jason...

Jason: *tightens the hug and gently plants a kiss on top of Alfred’s head* I know, I know... I'm back, Alf. I'm back.

>>> *** <<<

Dick and Barbara: *sitting on the carpeted floor in the study, enjoying the heat from the fireplace in front of them, going through a stack of photo albums*

Dick: *smiling fondly* Wow, these are old-old.... I should probably scan them before they crumble to pieces.

Dick: *stops at a page and points at a picture of Bruce and Jason on a boat, smiling, and holding up a tuna* Check this out, Babs... Aw, I love this one. I had a few days off from work, decided to spend it here. Somehow Jason convinced Bruce to take break from himself and go fishing.  

Dick: *talking animatedly* So, there we are on Bruce’s huge fishing boat, the Bat-2-Sea -- And Jason’s starting to get seasick because he’s been hanging out by the edge, waiting for a bite for hours -- The persistence on that kid! --  And he finally gets one! A big one, Babs -- *spreads his arms* -- and it was pulling down hard like you wouldn’t believe, but Jason just wouldn’t let go! -- So Bruce drops the glass of wine he’s holding and runs to grab him --

Barbara: What were you doing?

Dick: Who do you think took the picture? As I was saying -- Bruce, he -- he -- *starts to laugh so hard that he tears up* trips over Jason’s line somehow and falls into the ocean! *slapping-the-floor laughing* The World’s Greatest Detective, in his Batwaders, drenched like a wet bird... *sighs happily* You should’ve seen his face!

Barbara: *turns the page* Oh, I can see it now. Still stone-faced, but wet.

Barbara: *stops at a page and giggles* Aw... Will you look at that?

Dick: *looks at the photo Babs is pointing at and chuckles softly* That’s adorable. 

Barbara: Those scaly leotards fit him better than they ever did you, Boy Wonder.

Dick: *smirks* Whatever. But I have to admit, he did look great. He looked really... happy. I wish... I wish I saw more of him in action, you know? *voice breaking* I could’ve maybe trained him the way I did Tim and Damian --

Barbara: *rubs his back comfortingly* Dick...

Jason: *walks into the study* Dickie, I took some of your --

Dick: *clears his throat and wipes his eyes haphazardly* Hey, Little Wing!

Jason: Wait, are those our old family photos?

Barbara: *pats the empty spot beside her* C'mere.

Jason: *sits down and rubs his hands together* Where’s the one where Bruce goes kersplat in the ocean?

Jason: *flips through the pages and grimaces at his photos as Robin* You're not gonna use these to blackmail me, are you?

>>> *** <<<

Duke: *watches as his RPG character explodes for the fifth time in a row and shakes his head* You beat me again! You're so good at this game, man.

Jason: *snorts and puts his controller down* Dude, you weren't even trying. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were letting me win.

Duke: What? Naaaah... That's... Come on, why would I do that?

Jason: *gets up and shrugs, grinning knowingly* I dunno... 'Cause you like seeing me alive?

Duke: Yeah. It’s pretty awesome, actually.

Jason: *offers to bump fists* I gotta pack up. Good game, though. See you around, bro.

Duke: *exploding-fist-bumps with Jason* You too, bro.

Jason: *pats Ace the Bathound’s head as he exits the game room*

>>> *** <<<

Steph: *examining Jason’s face* You look really pale.

Cass: *pointing at various spots on his face* And you have a lot of... scars.

Jason: *sitting on a stool in front of Cass’s vanity dresser, staring at himself in the mirror and absentmindedly running a finger over the shirt-covered scar on his chest* Yeah? That bad, huh?

Steph: *grins* Nothing a little makeup can’t fix.

Jason: *rubbing his chin* You think so? I mean, I just came here to borrow a few weapons from Cass, but if you think I need a makeover...

Steph and Cass: *look at each other and squeal in delight*

>>> *** <<<

Tim: And this *holding up a minuscule gadget between his fingers for Jason to see* generates a force field over your entire body. The more the impact, the greater the energy generated. Schway, huh?

Jason: *nodding his head appreciatively as he takes the gadget and sticks it on the lapel of his leather jacket* Schway.

Tim: *proudly shows Jason a Bat-shaped breastplate * Now, this -- You're gonna love this -- It can turn you invisible to the naked eye for roughly 34.5 seconds, giving you time to do all kinds of offensive or defensive stuff. They won’t know what hit them, Jay. You’re basically gonna be invincible and Joker... Joker, he’s... he’s not... not gonna... *drops the breastplate unceremoniously* 

Jason: *places a hand on Tim’s shoulder* Thank you, Timbo. Really. But I'll be fine out there. You don't have to worry about me.

Tim: Yeah? Can you promise me that? Because I don’t think I can live through another one of Bruce's meltdowns.

Jason: *chuckles softly* Aren't they the best?

>>> *** <<<

Jason: *staring at an empty grave layered with concrete in the backyard*

Jason: *rolls his eyes* I know you're there.

Bruce: *comes out of the shadows and stands next to Jason*

Jason: Why'd you keep it?

Bruce: Because I'm a sentimental old fool.

Jason: This is just... creepy. Even for you.

Bruce and Jason: *stare at the empty grave in silence*

Jason: I've forgiven you.

Bruce: *glances at Jason, who could’ve sworn his adoptive father’s eyes were bloodshot* 

Jason: You know that, don’t you? I mean, I know we’re always going to disagree about Jok-- about him, and a few other things, but... You’ll always be family, Bruce. My family. 

Bruce: *looks at Jason, smiling wearily*

Jason: *grinning back at Bruce*

Bruce: *puts an arm around Jason’s shoulder* Thank you... Son.

Jason: *pulls Bruce in for a tight hug*

Bruce and Jason: ... 

Jason: Hey, remember that time you went kersplat in the ocean?

>>> *** <<<

Damian: *knocks softly on Jason's bedroom door* Todd.

Jason: *stuffing a duffel bag with clothes, homemade snacks, and weapons* Hey, kid, come in. I’m just getting my stuff ready --

Damian: These came from Mother. *drops a pile of books on Jason’s old desk*

Jason: *picking one after the other up excitedly* Tolstoy, Machiavelli, Sun Tzu, Shakespeare, Marx... No way... 

Damian: They’ve been with me for a while. But since you rarely come over, they’ve been collecting dust and taking up valuable space in my room. -Tt-

Jason: *wiping the dust off with his shirt and hugging each one* She kept them... These were my friends back when I was in the League... 

Damian: I didn’t realize we had more in common than just being my Father’s sons.

Jason: Wow. I have no idea how I’m supposed to bring all of these home. I mean, I got here on roller blades, for Bat’s sake -- 

Damian: *thrusts a piece of paper into Jason’s chest* This is for you.

Jason: *gingerly uncrumples it, revealing a painting of him and Damian*

Jason: *reading the writing in calligraphy underneath* “The Second Chance Robins”... *looks at Damian, feeling the tears well up in his eyes* You made this?

Damian: *looking down at his feet* When it’s my day... M-my d-day... Will you come over, too?

Jason: *gets down on bended knee to be at eye level with his little brother* Hey, buddy, look at me. Damian, look at me. Of course. Listen, we’ll do whatever you want. We’ll, um... We’ll take bad guys down together! Pull pranks on Tim! You name it, I got you.

Damian: Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Todd.

Jason: I promise that I’ll do my best, okay?

Damian: You could stay the night, you know. You’re home anyway.

Jason: *ruffles Damian’s hair and grins* I'd like that. As long as you hang out here with me. And I promise I won't tell anybody because it'll ruin our reputation.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

If truth be told, @wingedskyes​ , Jason makes himself available on his Death Day. Because even if neither he nor his family and friends mention it, he knows that they need him just as much as he needs them.

Thank you for this Ask. It was both fun and just a tad bit heartbreaking to write. 

And thank you, @warrior-of-the-blue-moon​ , for the nice addition. 

See: Part 1, Part 2

[musicallisto]

Congrats on 800 followers!! You write beautifully and deserve every one of them and a thousand more 💕🎉

For the celebration, could I get a vanilla milkshake (ship)? Of Percy Jackson or Narnia?

I'm a straight girl, INFP, enneagram 5, hufflepuff student, and daughter of Athena. I really love any kind of art, from painting, to music, to literature, to sculpture, and anything. That doesn't mean I'm good. Even tho I wish I was. I really like to write, it helps me put my thoughts and feelings in order, and words come easier when I write them down than when I try to talk. The most important thing to me are my friends, my loyalty is one of the little things I actually like about myself.

I'm really bored with my life and always wished of something more, so any kind of media that has a good story it's something I'm a fan of. I'm literally waiting just to be old enough so I can go on my own adventure and live a little.

I'm not a very affectionate person, not in a conventional way anyway, I'm not good enough with words to repeat how much people mean to me (even if they really do), and I don't like to be hugged that often, and only if they're really close to me. But I'm always there for anyone that needs me and I'll try to do the best I can to help.

I don't like small talk, I want to have long talks about everything that comes to mind, whether it is the last book you read or a random thought about the stars, or mythological creatures, or aliens, or your deepest secret or some dumb thing that happened some years ago. Whatever, but a real conversation.

Did I forget to say I'm Mexican? Lol, I speak Spanish and we're known for joking around (And it's probably that I punch someone jokingly before I hug them. Yep, not very good at expressing emotions at first. I can be WAY more open once I gained trust).

I like to take things with calm and humor, but if it's something serious I know how to take the situation seriously and give the best advice and "wise" words I can think of. My friends come looking for my advice often lol whether or not they follow it afterwards. I don't like to talk about my problems, because I don't want to worry any of my friends, and even though I could need help, I just hold it in until it passes (I should follow my own advice and talk to someone but OH WELL...)

I really don't know what else to say. I love to read, and I love musicals, and I'm trying to learn how to play guitar, and I'd like someone with good sense of humor but that I know I can trust.

Anyway, congrats again!! You're really talented and I don't know you that well but you seem like an awesome person. If you don't have time to do this, don't worry 'bout it u.u

here’s your vanilla milkshake! I only did it for percy jackson for lack of time, but I hope you enjoy your story with leo valdez all the same - it’s my reckoning you two would get along pretty well...

Leo is definitely always down for an adventure. He’s the kind of person who effortlessly makes the most boring errand into an epic, and sees the excitement in everything around him, but understands exactly what you mean when you say you want to go out there and see what life has in store for you, for real.

You’re both sitting on your bed in your bedroom - it’s not often you get a break from Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter respectively and are able to go back to your human lives, but whenever you get the chance, you seize it and enjoy the peace -, and talking about your biggest wishes and desires ...

(The conversation came naturally and flows just as organically; because Leo is a childish and excitable fool most of the time, but he understands there’s a time for everything, and he can be particularly serious and insightful when he understands it’s time for him to be)

... And you tell him all you really want in life is to go on an adventure, a real one, unpredictable like a rush of blood to the head.

“Well do I have news for you about a place called Camp Jupiter--”

“I don’t mean running from monsters or fulfilling prophecies... I want to see the world with my friends by my side and live beautiful things. One day, when I’m old enough.”

“Who says you aren’t old enough right now?”

“I’m sorry?”

(He’s straightened up from his slouching position on the mattress, and is looking at you with the utmost seriousness in his eyes.)

“I mean it. Who says we can’t go on an adventure, like, right now?”

“Where could you even go?”

“I don’t know. Got a globe laying around somewhere here?”

You comply, and he spins it, and orders you to jab your finger at it whenever you feel like it (which he doesn’t give a real meaning to, because it doesn’t even have one), to determine where you will go.

“... Moscow?”

“Ah, great place for a son of Hephaetus, love the heat out there.”

But needless to say, when Leo gets a spontaneous idea like that, there’s no use in trying to get it out of his head;

so the following week you are to depart on your trip to Russia, and you can’t hide your excitement. Traveling on a whim with your boyfriend might just be the first step to the adventures you were awaiting...

OK, but Mexican solidarity!!! I love my Latin cousins ugh you guys are so much fun,,

Talking shit about half of your respective Camps in Spanish behind their backs (and from Reyna’s half-smiles she miserably fails to conceal, you feel like you might not be the only ones who find this terribly funny)

“Mira a Jason, siempre tan serio y melancólico. Cuenta la leyenda que la mueca se le quedó grabada en la cara.”

“Pobrecito. Igual alguna profecía le delivra de su maldición de gravedad perpetua.”

“¿Y si le voy a contar un chiste?”

“Creo que solo te abofetará, Leo.”

Expressions of affection are rarely overt between the two of you, because you both tend to deflect your real feelings (especially affection or love) via humor and play them off as something “just for laughs”. You’re also big on tough love, so much so that sometimes the others wonder why you’re always playfully hitting each other’s arms as though you hated each other’s guts.

But the truth is simply that you were always raised to express affection in these ways, and get a bit awkward when you’re expected to be upfront about your feelings. Still, you’re both extremely warm and loving, and your “I love you”s simply have to be deciphered.

And no one deciphers them quite like the other half of the pair. It’s a language that only you two understand; that’s why you’re such a good pair.

800 follower sleepover [CLOSED!]

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

This Is Brought To You By

The door opened to a rustic cabin, the natural wood glowing amber thanks to a roaring fire. Worn dark leather seating seemed hazy thanks to said fire light, each piled with plush pillows and draped with cozy throws or blankets. A low table had been laid out with candles, a bottle of wine was being kept chilled in a classy and slightly modern ice bucket with two glasses just off to the side. The only splash of color amongst the glow of the fire, the natural wood and stone textures were a small handful of red roses, loose petals just lightly scattered about. With the help of the slow jazz playing softly in the background, it made for a very romantic atmosphere.

"Well, hello there." the male voice was a slightly low purring drawl, drawing attention to the male figure sprawled across an almost stereotypical bear rug. "Deadpool here. Hopefully, while reading this, you're hearing the voice of a certain sexy male Canadian. I'm sure you know the one. And I don't mean the short, hairy one with anger issues and kitty claws and a fondness for cigars. Unless of course said angry man is being represented by a beautiful, beautiful wild Australian man. Because if then, well, lather me in hot sauce and spank my Chimichanga. But I'm getting off track here."

Fingers drummed against a knee, drawing the attention to the missing and familiar red and black outfit, and more importantly, to the lack of proper attire.

"Yes, my current outfit has to do with the reason we are here today. It's come to my attention, that it's been some time since we last met, or that our beloved writer has written anything involving our favorite woman. And more importantly, our favorite woman when involved with me." a single white rose was plucked from behind, waved about as if a magic wand, and dragged across a scarcely clad male thigh that was pocked with fresh wounds that were instantly scaring. "As such, I decided to… encourage our beloved writer into bringing us all together once again."

With a dramatic wave of limbs, he moved from reclining on his side, that screamed 'Paint my like your French women', to leaning back on his elbows. The pale pink satin nighty, the atmosphere, and the pose would have been more than alluring were the one in said pose a woman. With the male, the nighty was rather comically stretched across his frame, though covering everything important, the sheer robe with fluffy cuffs only adding to the oddity of the entire situation. It clashed with the fact that he still wore his iconic red and black full head cowl.

"Now, our lovely writer might say otherwise about my encouragement, calling it nagging, whining or say I simply began to annoy her until she finally relented. Ignore those words and continue to read mine with the amazing drawl of a voice provided by the Canadian sex symbol; my pal, my bosom buddy, Ryan Reynolds." the white rose bobbed to the beat of the low music, tapping against a hip every so often.

"Now, back unto the reason why we're here. Honestly? I was lonely and wanted some cuddles with my lovely, lovely Kagome." noticing that it was just the male lounging in the open living space, he was quick to wave a hand. "Don't worry, don't worry! My girl is currently enjoying a much-needed hot bubble bath. One, I wish I was taking part of, but felt this little conversation was, at the time, more prudent. How could I feel that? Simple. I had the desire that everyone read this in Reynolds voice, nothing more and nothing less. Though if we are asking for more, and I know what you all want, I on the other hand, wouldn't mind lathering my girl in rich and real Canadian maple syrup and eating my midnight pancake snacks off of her, but maybe later. So while Kagome is taking this time to prepare for a very adventurous night right here on this vegan friendly-faux-bear fur rug, I'll fill that time with hanging out with you lovely little readers. Because without you, though more so my unannounced arrival and delayed departure, we wouldn't be here right now."

Happy humming could now be heard from behind a closed door just off to the side, the male giving a little jiggle in his spot in excitement. The rose momentarily used to fan himself, though just how useful it was as such, needed to be questioned at a later time.

"Now I'm sure there are a few things you all wish to talk about; my last movie with the fridge trope, which I myself can only say thanks to the writers for that one. Thanks guys, I've always wanted more trauma and torture to sprinkled in my life." a finger was wagged, tongue tisking against his teeth, though the sound was slightly muffled due to his mask.

"Or when my next film will come out, and if so, will it be part of the Marvel Universe. This is where you show your true love and devotion. I ask you, lovely readers, to go out and use the internet, haul out the trolls if need be, and ask, beg, and cry for me to be part of Marvel. Not that I want to, not really, it's just principle. What with their large budgets, CGI teams, writers, directors and a full cast. Honestly, a whole school of mutants gone save for three at a single extended time? For what purpose, 'cause I doubt they all went on some sort of field trip or vacation, but what do I know, I failed out of 5th grade. But, not really." his head tipped to the side, possibly staring in the direction of where the bathroom was, it was hard to tell with his face actually covered to know for sure.

"I mean, who wants to be part of that depressing team? All that self-sacrificing for the greater good?" he gave a few bobs of the rose in his hand as his head tipped back, almost as if in contemplation. "Though let's be honest, we all know I would survive an alien with a California Raisin on steroids for a chin, snapping their fingers. And then I'd introduce said alien to my Desert Eagles Mark XIX while recruiting Ant-Man to tickle where the sun never shines before becoming… Anti-Ant-Man? I honestly don't know what to call him in his Ultraman form, wait, does that make him a magical-boy or a science-boy? Right, Ant-Man shrinking to tickle where sun don't shine for hurting my favorite Web-Head super bro." the rose now tapped where his mouth was, though again, it was hidden by his mask. "And it would be super hot to watch Kagome kick his ass. I wonder what she would wear… Something skin tight? Revealing? Her old school uniform?"

A door opening, even though quiet, drowned out his muttering, the candles flickered as steam billowed out of the bathroom before quickly dissipating the further it billowed into the open space. "Are you talking to White and Yellow again?" a female figure left the dark bathroom, her form covered with a short semi sheer dark pink bathrobe of her own. Her hands were raised just enough to free her hair from beneath the robe, though she paused when she really took a look at the sprawled out male. "...I thought that was supposed to be a gift for me?"

Snickering, he trailed the rose down from his mouth, his neck, down his chest stopping just above his stomach. "Don't you think I look sexy in this?" it was always so amusing to tease and rile her when he wore risqué outfits, namely hers.

Finishing in freeing her hair, she eyed his form. Yes, his skin was pocked and disfigured from him constantly getting open sores and his abilities nearly immediately healing them. But beyond that, his form was all carved muscle, no doubt from years of being a mercenary. While yes, he was larger with the shoulders strong, he had a slight swimmer's build. It didn't lack-

"Ah, sorry for the intermission. Our writer took a few days to… deal with life I guess. How boring." shoulders shrugged, waving off the confused expression from his fairer companion. "Of course, it would happen when describing my awesome and amazingly sexy self." an actual pout could be seen through his mask.

"I will admit, you are sexy." the purring drawl from Kagome drew his attention again, her words and tone revealing she either decided she was going to ignore him going off tangent or just that she was used to it at this point, body freezing when her hands began with removing the sash that kept her own coverings secure. "I'm just not sure that shade of pink is quite your color. Maybe you should stick to your usual colors?"

The moment, the robe dropped and pooled around her feet, revealed a feminine figure dripping in curves with subtle musculature that showed she kept up with her own training, he froze. She wore a set of red and black satin and lace that covered pale skin. It covered a little more than what most would normally deem sexy lingerie, with slightly wider straps, but they accentuated her curves, drawing attention to them. And the thin ribbons that accompanied and mimicked, as well as help the lace that helped cover stiffening peeks, made her look more like a present just waiting to be unwrapped.

"Well, what do you think of my gift to you?" legs crossed slightly as hands once again rose to lift her hair to both reveal her neck and shoulders as well as lift her chest, she stood posed before him, basking in the golden glow of the fireplace behind him.

The white rose that had been resting near his hip instantly perked up, a white petal flying off at the somewhat harsh and sudden movement. Despite it being a mask, the white 'eyes' widened as the mask shifted to show that his jaw dropped.

"I'll take your silence as a, 'I likey'?" she giggled as she dropped her hands, they followed the curves of her body, no doubt drawing his gaze from behind the mask to follow with. Slowly, with a slight predator grace, she lowered to her knees and began to crawl up his form, leaving a trail of kisses behind her that glittered from both the fire light as well as her own abilities to help heal him.

Tossing the rose without a care, he reached forward to trace her curves for himself, not stopping as her own hands reached forward to lift and remove his mask. Lips curved up when she reached forward to kiss him. It was sweet, a simple press of her lips against his own. His smile grew when he quickly ended the sweetness by reaching for that delightful curve of her ass that shook playfully in his grasp.

The gasp that was let out was easily and eagerly swallowed, tongue dipping between lush lips to tangle with her own. With where his grip was, he pulled her closer to settle in his lap. Trailing lips away from her own to nip down her jaw and neck, he smirked against her warm skin.

Pausing, brown eyes narrowed as he turned away from the purring woman in his lap. "Oi, what are you still doing here? This ain't no peep-show! Go away. Read a book, play a game, watch a movie. I hear that new one about a guy named Guy wanting to be free or something, is worth the watch. And if my pal Ryan is in it, ya know it's good. Now," a hand reluctantly left the span of leg it had been caressing with a waving motion. "Shoo."

Turning away, leaving behind the couple and the sounds of giggles and kissing echoed loudly over the crackles and pops from the fireplace. A quick squeal that turned into laughter that was followed by a masculine whine at the sound of fabric tearing just set the pace of what was to come. And who was in charge of this nights shenanigans. A door closing muffled the sounds as the cool evening draped across the forest, leaving only the crickets in the distance and even further off cries of wolves the only sounds to echo.

Message delivered, though the exacts of what the message actually was seemed to have been lost. But it had been shared, and that seemed to be all that had been important. It did leave questions of what the future held, and if there would be any further important messages that would need to be shared. Who knows. Guess the game of 'wait and see' was going to have to be played.

AN: Don't ask. Please don't. I will say this, I was at work when I literally/figuratively heard Deadpool/Ryan Reynold's voice pop out from no where and bug me until I started writing this down. And when I lost the flow for a few days, it came back until I managed to finish it. So now I'm posting it here and cleaning my hands of it. I hope you can find some enjoyment in, I know I'm going to enjoy the peace and quiet.

As always; read, enjoy, and please review! - BunnyWK

[weirwoodking]

hi i was wondering if you would be interested in making a meta on the differences between show!sansa and book!sansa bc i know they changed a lot of her storyline but i don't understand why everyone hates on sophie turner? it can be short or inexistent meta if you're not up to it but i would be very interested to know what you have to say

I mean, the differences between the two are pretty simple. After season 4, D&D decided to cut Sansa’s book storyline, and replaced it with their own rewrite. This affected the plots of multiple characters, particularly Show!Theon’s and Show!Jon’s, but most of all, Show!Sansa’s, obviously. George himself has spoken on how much he hated what the show did with Sansa. He said in 2014 that he had “no idea what they were doing with Sansa or where they’re taking her storyline.”

I could go episode by episode and point out everything that’s wrong or is out of character, but it’s kind of useless. The show did not adapt books 4 & 5, it’s as simple as that, everything is different and feels like it’s out of character. For the first 4 seasons, I thought that Sansa’s story was handled fine (I haven’t watched GOT seasons 1-4 in over 4 years, so my memory is a bit foggy on the specifics tho). Sophie Turner isn’t exactly how I picture Sansa to look, but her acting was fantastic, especially for someone so young and for her first television role.

I personally haven’t seen people “hating on Sophie Turner”, but I’m not involved in the GOT side of tumblr, only the ASOIAF side, so I don’t see people talk about the actors that much. I do know that there are people in fandom (not just in the GOT fandom but in fandom in general) who will conflate actors with their characters. I have seen some toxic Show!Sansa stans do this with Show!Dany and Emilia Clarke (mostly last year). It seems to be more of a problem with female characters and actresses (‘cause sexism), and I think it’s really creepy and disturbing. Sophie Turner is not Sansa, so if anyone is “hating on her” because they didn’t like how the show changed Sansa’s story, that’s really fucked up. I don’t know much about the GOT cast, actually, I rarely watched interviews or behind-the-scenes videos. I don’t know if Sophie Turner has said that she likes the show’s ending or something like that, so if that was the case I could see people being critical of her opinion. But even if she did like the ending of the show and the way the writers changed her character after season 4, I still don’t think you should hate on an actor for that. Because the actors didn’t make the show, the showrunners did. It’s not on the actors to get everything right about their characters, it’s on the writers and directors to tell them the story and guide them through their acting. I don’t blame the actors for anything about GOT (no one should), I blame the writers.

What I find is the biggest problem about post-season 4 Sansa is how little regard they had for her character, while simultaneously claiming she was their favorite. I believe their exact quote was “Sansa was the character we cared about more than anyone”. Okay… then why did you cut her storyline? I feel like their whole “she’s our favorite character” act was more to try to defend against the criticism of the cutting of her storyline. What bothers me most is how they just casually threw her into the Ramsay plotline without thinking at all about what that meant. If you’re going to have one of the main characters of the show get serially raped, you need to think about what you’re doing and how to handle that horrific situation. In the books, the Jeyne Poole storyline is handled very carefully. The acts committed by Ramsay against Jeyne and Theon are never really shown, only implied, alluded to, or very briefly described. The show, on the other hand, explicitly showed Theon’s torture scenes, and made Ramsay a much bigger character in seasons 5 & 6 than he is in the books. I feel like they just used him for shock value, because so much of Game of Thrones revolved around shock value and in-the-moment reactions. I think they just saw Ramsay as a character they could turn into Joffrey 2.0, which is why they put Sansa with him. They didn’t care to follow Sansa’s book arc, they just wanted to continue the whole “caged-bird” thing with her, for shock value.

And to deflect against criticism, that’s why they made her so smart and powerful in the final few seasons. There’s next-to-no build up, no character development, no focus on her growth, the show just tells us that Sansa is the smartest character, and the audience is expected to agree. Because D&D did not care about showing her development. There’s a line in season 7, when Sansa and Arya kill Littlefinger, where Sansa says “thank you for all of your lessons, Lord Baelish.” And that immediately stuck out to me, because that sounds like something Book!Sansa would say. The show cut out Sansa’s Vale storyline, where she spends much more time with Littlefinger, and so… what “lessons” is Show!Sansa referring to here? They didn’t spend a lot of time together in the show. I do think that Sansa will defeat Littlefinger in the books, so that line makes sense for Book!Sansa.

What they did was cut Sansa’s storyline, throw her into a horrific situation that they used for shock value, and then expected to be praised when they made her a “girlboss” later on. They basically said “hey, we know we essentially erased this character’s arc and development, but at least we did a feminism, right?” And that’s what really pisses me off. The blatant disregard for female characters, then saying “no, we do care about them! Believe us!”

Lindsay Ellis has a really good video called “Woke Disney” that touches on this. Basically, she talks about how Disney’s recent live action remakes tend to make each of the princesses a “#girlboss” in a very corporate, fake-feminist manner that is very easy to see right through. (I recommend just watching the video, she goes more in-depth into the subject.)

A similar thing occurred with GOT (the show only had one female writer after season 4, by the way, who was a staff writer for season 8. And before that, only 4 episodes were written by a woman). D&D wrote a lot of problematic, misogynistic, homophobic, and racist things. Then they tried to cover that up with (to use a line from Ms. Ellis) a coat of #girlboss paint. For example, I remember after s8e3 (when Arya killed the Night King) came out, that was when the big criticism for season 8 really started. People saw how bad the writing of that episode was, and how ridiculous and anti-climactic it all felt. However, when people criticized the manner in which the Night King was killed (i.e. saying that it would have made more narrative sense for Jon to do it instead of Arya), there was another group of people who called that criticism sexist. “That’s sexist! You’re just upset that a girl did it instead of a guy!” Which… ugh... do I need to explain how idiotic that line of reasoning is?

And that’s kind of how the HBO show tried to get away with its misogyny, not just the misogyny of Dany’s ending, but of the whole show in general. “Look, we can’t be misogynistic, we had Arya kill the Night King! Look, we can’t be misogynistic, we had Sansa become a #girlboss!” Bullshit, you’re just trying to hide your sexism and bad writing behind a facade of fake feminism.

… *sigh* ...

Anyway, nothing but love for Book!Sansa, and nothing but hate for the writers of Game of Thrones. I hate how the show turned Sansa into a very polarizing character, when she shouldn’t be. None of the child characters of ASOIAF should be polarizing, they’re children for fucks sake.

I’m very excited to see where GRRM takes Sansa’s character in TWOW, I feel like she’s got an awesome journey coming up (hopefully involving her discovering her skinchanging powers, taking down Littlefinger, and heading north for home). 

Uh, wow, this got really long… and I’m exhausted after thinking about the sh*w that much. Here, as a treat for reading all the way down to the bottom, have a Sansa WIP drawing that I haven’t finished yet: