#just tasting the waters with sketches for now

[shapelytimber]

Ok hear me out.......... wlw Wilhuff Tarkin and Orson Krennic-

the dynamic very much is unhinged creative vs rigid control freak in a context of evil bureaucracy- and personally the context is why I love to read stories with imperials jdjdkd nothing is more crack cocaine literature for me than to make drama in a space office filled with awful people

More flavor text and me trying to sell you on why this ship of two truly terrible people is great below vvv

For Krennic, lean more into the evil genius artist. She's been up for 46 hours straight drawing schematics, she's rambling about incomprehensible shit, her only meals have been cigarettes and energy drinks, she's so full of herself she might one day think she's god, she's gonna die by 60. She doesn't care much about the politics of the empire, but they don't bother her either. She works for the imperials because they have a lot funds to give to engineers willing to build them a battle station the size of a moon capable of blowing up planets. Before that she worked on a lot a architectures on imperial center/Coruscant.

The imperial uniforms are a bit boring- so I'm taking full advantage of the fact Krennic is more of an engineer/architect to tweak her uniform a bit (and the cape was already not respecting regulations sooooo) For Tarkin I'm keeping it tho, this woman won't be caught dead without it.

For Tarkin, lean less into the whole buff survivalist aspect- she very much was in her youth, but she *is* a 65 year old woman based on *Peter Cushing*, and has been in a very high and prestigious position within the empire for the past 20 years. She still as an extensive knowledge on how to survive in nature, and fight with her bare hands or a knife, but that doesn't come up very often in her line of work anymore. She still killed a space bear unharmed when she was like 17 tho. She hates chaos and developed the main philosophy that drove the empire to this day : to govern with fear and impose order. She is a bloodthirsty woman in her sixties, with a never ending hunger for power, currently cheating on her wife with a coworker she hates.

They both love the death star more than they tolerate each other, but they did end up bonding over plotting the demise of one coworker they couldn't stand and digging out rebel spies. Make no mistake tho, this is very much a love triangle/trouple between two women and a giant battle station.

In the end, Tarkin killed Krennic by shooting her from orbit with the death star, the project was finally finished, she didn't need her anymore and she might have gotten in the way of her control of the station.

Tarkin dies a few days later during the battle of Yavin, along the death star, not willing to back down in her moments of glory.

PS : a lot of this is inspired by the fic "Propagating structure" by oneinspats ! it's what made me like and understand this pairing, and is truly a great work of fiction. I really think this fic is a masterful work when it comes to expending the character of Krennic, and extrapolating on existing things. Exploring his more creative side, his passion for his work, his truly abysmal lifestyle, giving him a hatred of nature and a background as an architect on Coruscant. While also keeping his horrific aspects, like reading his internal (or external) monologues sometimes makes my skin crawl with how disgusting his ideas are and how deep they run, but making him an interesting and compelling protag for the story. While all of it is surrounded by this delicious dramatic irony, because we know that no matter how hard they try to scheme (or fuck), the death star will blow up and it's incredible.

[acewithapaintbrush]

Saw @artsymeeshee hospital sketches of the sea grunks and thought to myself, is this finally my time to write some brotherly angst for these two? The answer is yes. Short but sweet, please enjoy.

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

The first thing Stan becomes aware of is the noise.

A constant beeping right next to his ear. Loud and high-pitched and repetitive and unfortunately very familiar to an old grifter with bad luck like him. He would be a lot more annoyed with this sound if his last clear memory wasn't of roaring waters rushing past his ears, stealing his hearing and leaving nothing but white noise behind.

He'd rather take the beeping.

Next comes taste, which, ugh! He could have gone without that! The feel of scratchy sheets is not much better but it tells him that he is in one of the better hospitals. Believe it or not, the better the hospital, the scratchier the sheets. Ford should cool it with the mystical beasts and research what's up with that!

Speaking of Ford.

Stan keeps his breathing even as he slowly opens his eyes. The light has been dimmed in anticipation and he blinks a couple times at a ceiling that is painted a nondescript beige color. He looks at it for a moment and for some strange reason he suddenly feels a fierce urge to video call Mabel.

But first things first.

Stan slowly turns his head to the side which actually hurts. Don't they have him on the good stuff?

Just as he expected, there is his brother. Ford has squeezed himself into the same bed as Stan, facing his brother's prone form. Stan can't help but smile. His brother must have bullied the nurses into letting him stay. The bed is way too small for two grown men but somehow the genius has managed to practically fold himself into a compact ball, leaving enough room for all those fancy machines connected to the patient. One of his hands lightly rests against Stan's chest which he hasn't even noticed until now.

Ford's eyes are closed but he is mumbling under his breath, reciting one of his journal entries from memory.

Stan winces. His brother must be really rattled by this little mishap.

‘Great job giving the guy another thing to worry about, Stanley!’

“I think climbing into the hospital bed with the patient is against the rules, Sixer? You are not supposed to do that.”

He was going for levity and humor but his hoarse voice kinda ruins that.

Ford's eyes don't snap open. He doesn't gasp or jerk upright or anything like that. Instead he takes a shuddering breath and deliberately opens his eyes. They find Stanley immediately and there is not a hint of surprise in them. Stan wonders how long Ford has known that he's awake.

“Same to you,” Ford says and his voice is so flat it causes a shiver to run down Stan's spine.

“Hey, s’not like I planned for this to happen.”

“I would be very cross with you if you had planned falling overboard, Stanley.”

Ford's emotions still feel weirdly flat. He isn't even lecturing and scolding Stan for his reckless behavior, just presses his six-fingered hand against his chest and stares at him with those blank eyes.

“I'm alright.” Stan shifts so he can face his brother and, damn, those ribs are definitely cracked. He briefly wonders if that happened in the fall or whether someone had to do CPR on him and quickly decides that maybe he doesn't want to know. Close call. Much too close. “I'm alright, Ford,” he repeats as if that makes it true.

For the first time an emotion flickers through Ford's face. He narrows his eyes and for a moment Stan thinks he's angry but then a single tear runs down an unshaven cheek, immediately seeping into the pillow.

“I thought I lost you for good,” Ford whispers, voice tortured. “I couldn't find you. For the longest time. I looked and I looked and you were just… gone. I couldn't find you!”

‘Same to you,’ Stan echoes with a bit of a bitter edge, mind replaying thirty years of hunching down in a dusty basement in a matter of seconds.

But this is not about him and Stan is, no matter what some might want to tell you, not an insensitive asshole.

“You did find me,” he says. He doesn't actually know if that's true. The time after he fell into the ocean during that storm is still a bit of a mystery to him. All he remembers is the noise of the water and how cold he felt and a voice screaming his name, over and over, growing fainter with each wave crashing over his head.

But Ford needs some reassurance right now. And the best way to reassure Ford that Stan is alright is by proving his alrightness with a good, old Pines hug.

He lightly pulls at the hand on his chest and with a cut off gasp Ford immediately obliges, scooting closer until they are entwined with one another just like they were as kids when the nightmares became too much to remain separated by a bunk bed.

“You found me.” Stan repeats and ignores the tears soaking into his hospital gown.

‘That's what we do,’ he thinks with a content smile, eyes falling shut with exhaustion. ‘We always find each other again.’

[naffeclipse]

Petal

Botanist!Reader x Naga!Eclipse

Commission Info

This little fic was such a delight to write and I'm so happy @bluemoon1331 commissioned me for some good ol' Blackwater Lure (naga) Eclipse. Toss in a botanist reader to pair with this handsome snake and you have quite the pairing and a little smooching in the jungle!

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You swat a buzzing insect swirling around your ear before huffing. The humidity is thick like rain but not a drop falls from the blue-white sky in the middle of a bright, brilliant day. The green canopy overhead provides mottled shade. Despite this, a thin sheen of sweat glistens on your forehead. Swiping underneath the stiff brim of your boonie hat, you draw in another sweltering lungful before pressing down on the camera button to finish capturing a picture of a brilliant cluster of heliconia flowers. The picture is basic, but you only need one for reference in your study.

Common and brightly colored, the bracts of the flower form a beak-like shape which are often called lobster claws. You prefer the name heliconia. It’s far more fitting for the stunning, tropical blossom. 

The deep green stem stands tall and sprouts the flowers high, allowing you to stay standing on your feet as you sweep your camera aside and reach for your notebook. The pages are rimmed with your observations and small, simple sketches of each flora you have studied throughout your stay here in the jungle. Michael and Vanessa seem to appreciate your craft though don’t pursue the same interests. Their place here on the fridges of the wild, feral jungle is a fleeing mystery, but you hope they’re enjoying the beautiful, lush ecosystem as much as you are.

You lift your head at the sound of a steady hum whizzing through the air. A tiny creature floats, its wings blurring with the speed of its flight, and dips low to sip at the nectar of the heliconia. A smile spreads softly over your lips. 

Hummingbirds are drawn to the sweet taste of this flowering plant. The small fowl’s feathers shine with an iridescent blue and green. Another flit by. This one pauses just long enough for you to spy its ruby throat. You lower your book for just a moment. Sometimes you get lost in your botany—unable to see the flowers for the petals—but now and then a creature who loves the plants as you do gives a gentle reminder to admire the brilliant red and deep green colors for a moment. 

Another hummingbird with a wonderfully rare purple sheen and gray body buzzes over to a nest. You jot down a gentle note of what the flower attracts as well as its pollinators. The ink needs a moment to try and stick to the thick paper. Your book is about to overflow, with a few pages left spared but not for too long. There are still giant lily pads you wish to observe upon the water and passion flowers high up in the canopy that you must find a way to climb up to. 

You lower your notebook and pause for a moment. It’s strange. You’ve been here for the better half of the morning and haven’t had any interruptions. This is the most research you’ve done in a good while. 

Taking the blessing for what it is, you bow your head and scribble more, noting the bright color and how it thrives upon the jungle soil. There is nothing richer on earth but this Amazonian floor. The most abundant resources of natural, green goods are right before you and you get to observe each flora up close.

You lift your head again. The heliconia is abundant and red, a few tipped in yellow and a rare, stray stem has a tinge of blue to their edges. Beautiful. You step closer, wondering what genetics carried this special trait into this patch of bright reds. Was it cross-pollinated or did a seed get laid here from another stretch of open, flowering land?

The silence settles over you after a moment. Sweeping over the heliconia, you realize the hummingbirds scattered, silent, and swift, leaving you in a heavy quiet. Even distant birds calling and chirping have calmed. The unnatural hush of an otherwise thriving jungle touches you with a warning. 

Your heart stops in your chest.

Your poor notebook drops from your hands, pages, and pen falling. Pointing your feet away from the patch of heliconia, you fail to take a single step before a soft hiss cuts through the air. You cry out as a strike of a lithe, long arms seizes you from behind and a powerful tail sweeps around your legs. A sharp gasp rips from your throat. In a moment of your world spinning, you’re pulled forcibly into a constricting embrace. 

It takes mere seconds. A tail of green scales, dotted with black, quickly twists you into its coils before a soft hum echoes. You fight the urge to squirm as the thick, corded muscle climbs up your legs, locking them together before winding around your waist. Orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, serpentine form cages you within his grasp. Your arms are, unfortunately, caught in the naga’s constriction. You tug on them experimentally but only receive an answering squeeze in return, your ribs tested for a mere moment. A breath slips away from you.

“Happy day, petal.”

You lift your eyes from your trapped body to face the one enforcing your precarious position. Eclipse. The naga hovers over you, balancing on his tail while keeping you in place. The length of his body is utterly incredible. Ropes of thick, powerful muscle spread across the jungle floor and neatly spiral around you, all while leaving enough to support his humanoid torso. 

You try to shift, to find a little more breathing room, but the naga decides to recline you back instead, setting you into an unsettling position where he can creep up his coils to admire you up close. His fangs flash in a ravenous grin. His venom glistens on the razor-sharp tips before he swipes them away with his dark, slender tongue.

“H-hi, Eclipse,” you answer in a rattle. Yet, a smile manages to work its way onto your lips. “Did you have to startle me?”

“I thought you would know it’s me saying hello. Who else would catch you like this?” he rumbles low and deep and the sound vibrates through your own body. You clench your teeth just to keep them from chattering.

He tilts his head as if he finds you adorable—or appetizing. The frills decorating him are as bright as any jungle flower, orange-yellow, and almost hypnotic in the gradient hues. Slitted pupils observe you in the way you might have just been studying the heliconia, interest keen and desirous.

A nervous sound leaves you, somewhere between amusement and fear. “You can say hello without catching me next time,” you offer. “It would be less… frightening.”

His coils shift around you slowly as if tempted by the thought of squeezing until your lungs can’t expand anymore. You glance briefly down to see what his tail may do next.

“Are you frightened right now, petal?” A clawed hand hooks your chin. Eclipse lifts your face to hold your gaze. You swallow back a few mouthfuls of apprehension. A pulse in your arm presses back against the thick serpentine body. You hope he can’t feel it.

You know he does.

“No,” you answer, then truthfully, “not anymore.”

He hums thoughtfully. The sound echoes with a hissing undertone and gradually softens. His eyes survey you with slitted pupils, one a midnight blue, the other deep emerald, even darker than his scales.

“I agree. I’ve held many prey in my coils but you don’t struggle like them. They bite and claw and cry out,” he answers, drawing it out with a slithering sound that spills heat into your core. “But you; you resist little. You’re as soft as fruit in my palms. You’re deliciously small.”

He lifts out his other hand and slowly tilts your hat up and up until it falls away, stumbling down his coils to lie flat by your notebook and pen. The very breath within you catches as he turns his hand and runs the back of his crooked finger down your cheek, admiring you closely. You lean away on instinct but the snare of his scales gives you little room to escape. Softly, he reaches up and strokes your head. His claws comb down your hair. His tongue flicks out so close to your nose, you wonder if he intends to lick you.

“Although there is one aspect you carry with the rest of my prey,” he simpers. He leans close enough that his fangs glisten in the mottled sunlight. “You look good enough to eat.”

The tempo of your heart rate becomes a beating drum within you. 

“What do you eat?” you ask breathlessly, as if you could stall his hunger.

“Oh, whatever trots my way,” he slips a claw over the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, much to his delight. His coils cinch around you tighter in what you suspect is a desire to feel every shuddering muscle within you. Your cheeks burn.

“Like?” you prod, trying to regain control of your racing pulse but failing miserably. 

He flashes a sinister smile and a drop of venom slips into his saliva before he licks it away.

“Monkeys are fine for a meal. Jaguars are a delicacy that I’ll indulge in when I have the chance. If I’m in the mood to work up my appetite, I’ll hunt black caiman. Otherwise, I’ll dine on a giant otter.” He watches you closer as you comprehend the strength of his ability to target other predators. Truly, nothing can stop him if he so desires. 

You’ve learned much about Eclipse in the short time you’ve encountered him—or rather, he’s stalked and caught you. He is the apex predator of this ecosystem. He glides between the trees and turns into mottled shadows under the dense canopy and possesses a head as brilliant as any blossom. You do not know the animal kingdom as well as your flora, but you know he is the king within this jungle.

And he favors you, somehow. Though he has played with you like a cat with a mouse, he has never delivered a venomous bite with his wicked fangs or squeezed you until you couldn’t breathe anymore. You don’t know what to name this obsession he holds for you but it’s enough to spare your life. It’s enough to convince you that he cares for you. 

A nice theory you’ve come to consider is that you are in the safest place in the jungle right now, protected by the apex predator’s serpentine body. It’s enough to make your heart soften whenever he wraps you tight in his tail. After the initial shock has worn away, of course.

“I imagine they, ahem, taste fine,” you say, though your tongue is a bit dry.

“Such meals hold a very excellent taste, but I prefer a new flavor as of late,” a low rumble moves through him. 

You swallow roughly. His eyes catch the motion, dropping down to your throat where it bobs before his grin seems to sharpen. His fangs lie on full display.

He tilts your head back slightly, allowing sunlight to brighten your face. “Now I want to know more about what you’ve been up to, petal. What are you studying today?”

“Heliconia,” you answer. He captures you in his intense gaze. You nearly wish you could look away just to concentrate on forming words on your tongue. “The, ah, scientific name is heliconia latispatha, but it’s sometimes called lobsterclaw.”

“Say that again,” he commands.

You almost spit out ‘lobsterclaw’ but catch your mistake before you can simmer in embarrassment. In a steady voice, you repeat, “Heliconia latispatha.”

His eyes close briefly, sealing away the jewel-dark colors of his gaze. For a moment, you study him, fascinated by how he tilts his head as if turning an ear towards you.

“Beautiful,” he hisses softly. His eyes open, slitted pupils thinning in the brightness of the day before he nods. “Tell me more.”

You sputter once before continuing into details about their relationship with hummingbirds. Eclipse lets you spill into a monologue. His attention never lapses as you so often find in those who ask about your botany studies only to realize you are giving them an accurate answer, not a simple and inadequate one-note description. You can almost forget that you can’t move your limbs while falling into a ramble of your studies.

While you speak, his coils keep you cool. His smooth, sleek scales effortlessly ease your sweating while slowly shifting around you, occasionally squeezing as if grasping your hand to remind you that he is here, listening. His tongue flickers out once while he traces your jawline and even your lips when you tell of hoping to locate giant lily pads.

“I will take you to see them,” he says after you pause. Your eyes widen. He grins as his claws slip along your temple, trailing your hairline. 

“Really?” you breathe. You’ve been searching for them for so long—even Michael and Vanessa reported that they have stumbled upon many yet in their travels around the jungle.

“Of course.” Eclipse’s simper deepens while he lets his hand fall to cup your cheek. “Anything is yours. You must only say the word, my favorite flower.”

Your lips part but no sound falls out of your mouth. Eclipse’s eyes drink you in as you wriggle in the slightest, unable to contain your eagerness despite how tightly you are held. His tail moves in answer. Scales shift you towards him as Eclipse leans over you, closing the distance.

“Eclipse.” Your mouth finally moves. His name fills it. He stirs, his thin eyelids fluttering briefly as ripples of muscle fall down his tail.

“Say that again,” he commands.

Your throat bobs before you shift your shoulders. His hands fall to the neckline of your shirt, tugging on it slightly to expose your collarbone.

“Eclipse.” Your cheeks heat with a red as bright as the heliconia. 

“Petal,” he hisses gently, “You’re so sweet and precious. Like nectar. I want to taste you.”

Oh.

You want to say something, that you are not nectar but a very simple, boring human, but you aren’t sure if that’s the right thing to say in the face of a predator who lies inches away from your mouth. He draws his hand under your shirt and palms your shoulder, covering your shoulder blade. He tilts your head up. A soft gasp escapes you when he squeezes you softly, and then as if stealing your air, he captures your mouth. He pushes gently, tasting your lips and grazing them with his slick fangs. Quiet sounds escape you, your hands clenching and your knees rubbing together, unable to take his face in your hands and hold him in return. It’s almost maddening. Almost.

A low hiss breaks the kiss as he draws back. His gaze, despite his serpentine aspects, is soft and glowy. You spin slowly after the contact like you were on your feet one moment and lifted off them the next.

“Perhaps we might find a lily as pink as your cheeks,” he murmurs, much to your embarrassment. His smile is devilish but his tongue slowly traces your cheekbone, and you close your eyes.

You hope so, silently, for such a flower.

[violettwrites]

trailerpark!daryl headcanons

a/n: this includes both sfw & nsfw ( below the cut ) headcanons for tp!daryl

if you enjoy my stuff, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! here you can find my masterlist, and my ask box is open for requests !

warnings: there is mentions of abuse, and weed in this post, also nsfw content. please proceeded with caution 🫶🏻

resources: divider by @adornedwithlight

sfw tp!daryl dixon headcanons.

➵ tp!daryl dixon is very much different to his older brother. quieter, less annoying, but overall just nicer. he is extremely loyal, & protective.

➵ he is extremely self sufficient. being left home alone for days on end helped him build his resilience.

➵ he has a soft spot for stray animals. the amount of times he has found a tiny stray kitten and wanted to bring it home is countless, but he knew his father would not be happy with him.

➵ he’s surprisingly very good at drawing. he often likes to sketch scenes of his surroundings, wherever he may be. that may include the creek you and him spend a lot of time together at, the silver dome arena where countless concerts he’s snuck into have played, or even just random doodles.

➵ he loves heavy metal and rock music. his favourite bands are motörhead, slayer, iron maiden, metallica— just to name a few. he gets his taste in music from merle.

➵ he is not much of a talker, but he is definitely a listener. he will listen to you rant and ramble for hours on end, often just replying with a nod of his head or a mhm, but you know he’s always taking it in.

➵ he often wears long sleeves & sweaters to hide the bruises and scars on his body from his father. it’s harder when he ends up with a black eye, but he just plays it off as him and merle roughhousing.

➵ the first time he ever smoked weed was with you, and merle, in one of the old broken down cars at the trailer park. merle and daryl sat in the front and you in the back, dutching out the old chevy with the smoke.

➵ he didn’t like going to school, often skipping classes or just not showing up at all. but you can bet he was always there to walk you home at the end of the day.

➵ he can often be extremely withdrawn, isolating himself several times a week. it’s never personal towards you, but you’ll often notice he’s been missing for a few hours. you can usually find him down at the creek, in the woods behind the trailer park, or even on top of his trailer sometimes.

➵ because he’s too broke for concert tickets, he’s snuck into concerts so many times.

➵ he’s had a crush on you since he knew what crushes were, really. merle constantly teased him for looking at you like a lost puppy, urging him to make a move. but he’s too shy for that, and he didn’t like the idea of possibly ruining your friendship.

➵ overall, he’s your best friend. you trust him with your entire life, and you couldn’t ask for anyone better.

nsfw tp!daryl dixon headcanons.

➵ big switch energy !

➵ when he’s topping, he’s rough with you, but always makes sure you’re okay. he’ll press your thighs to your chest while he fucks you, or he’ll pull your hair from behind. the rings on his fingers also add to the pleasure when he spanks you.

➵ when he’s subbing, he’s a whiny, begging mess. he’ll grip at your thighs or ass, looking up at you with big blue eyes while he begs for you to keep going.

➵ the first few times you two fucked, he kept his shirt on. he was too nervous to take it off, but you never pushed him. slowly he became more comfortable and now it’s one of the first things he’s ripping off.

➵ aftercare king ! not that there’s much he can do without possibly outing himself to merle or his father of his activities, he’ll always make sure you’re okay— wether that be just getting you a glass of water and snuggling with you after, or kissing every inch of your body.

➵ certified pussy eater™. he’d go down on you for hours if he could.

➵ if he had to choose between ass and tits, he’s definitely an ass man. he loves grabbing handfuls of the flesh, especially when you’re riding him or he’s fucking you from behind.

➵ loves leaving hickeys in place only you and him can see.

➵ loves to hear you moan but also loves to shove his fingers in your mouth to shut you up when you’re being a bit too loud.

[headspace-hotel]

so many of us haven't seen it

we don't encounter it, we can't imagine it, we can't get out of the tomb of apathy because we haven't seen the wonders just beyond their line of sight

I talk about this all the time, but it's because I think about it all the time

There are likely thousands of plants native to the area you live in, and chances are you have never even seen most of them, in your entire life.

Not even rare orchids that only bloom at midnight on a blood moon or some shit—regular flowers. Weeds. They have been systematically eliminated from every single place you ever set foot in, and you have to have a special hobby or line of work to ever even rest your eyes upon the flowers that used to bloom for no one on every hill, or in every valley, or beside every stream

There are a few hundred birds that live where I live. I have never seen most of them before. I have never seen a Kentucky Warbler, and I have lived in Kentucky for what...twenty years?

I have never seen a rosy maple moth. When I saw one on the internet, I didn't even think it was real.

I've become a deeply weird person over the past couple years. Tasting even a little bit of the Wonders changes you. I wouldn't have thought blue bees were real, or the fantastically rainbow-colored dogbane beetles.

I have seen the world beyond the wasteland, and that glimpse makes you crazy.

You or I may have never seen a truly mature tree. A fraction of a percent of the old growth forest of the Eastern USA remains. Once there were tulip poplars over 6 feet in diameter and sycamores well over 10 feet in diameter. Only a few remain, in secret locations. Imagine walking through a forest where the tree trunks are over 3-4 feet wide.

The forest where I work is 100 years old. That's a baby forest.

Knowing that, being aware of that, it's maddening.

Central Kentucky has disproportionately few endemic plants. Almost none. Central Kentucky was the first area west of the Appalachians settled by European colonizers. The Bluegrass was once described as having the most peculiar plant life anywhere in the East, but now, there are no species known that are unique to that area.

Colonization destroyed the canebrakes. (Did you know that we had vast forests of bamboo full of carnivorous plants?) The bamboo is barely hanging on. It destroyed the sycamores so enormous you could use the hollow center of one as a stable for animals. It introduced invasive grasses to feed cattle and horses. It destroyed the rich lush topsoil. Most of the ancient oaks were cut down or died when housing developments were built on top of their roots.

What happened to the endemic species, never recorded in books of herbs, never sketched by a European naturalist.

Either gone forever...or hiding in a sinkhole on a backroad somewhere, not even yet discovered.

So much has been lost for eternity. So much still could be lost.

Some days it's hard not to wail and scream. There are herbicides in your drinking water. When you spread honey on toast, you likely also spread neonicotinoid pesticides, which testing has confirmed to be present in something like 45% of honey. In many areas, insects are immersed in the presence of chemicals designed to kill them in every drop of water, every leaf, every square inch of soil.

When games, animations, and illustrations envision the outdoors, they cover the ground with a short, uniform carpet of green, because that is what we see, no matter where we go: turfgrass cut by a lawn mower. Where I live, there are no natural environments that resemble this, remotely. The closest thing we have to turf-forming grass is our wealth of native sedges, most of which are rare or endangered.

I talked to a man who had devoted his life to studying the American bamboo, Arundinaria gigantea, and he had never seen a canebrake larger than 200x500 feet. Canebrakes once covered ten million acres, and now the bamboo exists in short, straggly clumps instead of dense bamboo forests up to 40 feet tall.

I want to cry and scream. The grief will tear me to pieces. I live in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, surrounded by people who can't even grieve, because they have been so completely severed from everything that was lost that they don't even know it was real.

It hurts. It hurts, and we have to live with it. It hurts, and the grief is all-consuming.

There is the agony, and there are the Wonders. Both are true at the same time. It is because nothing around us is standing still; everything in nature is always moving, iterating, becoming. Something is pulling and nudging at our species, urging us to move, to iterate, to become.

So much has been lost. Even more is not lost.

The trees, the bamboo, the sedges, the Kentucky warblers and rosy maple moths.

They are not lost. We are lost.

This is the hard part. The grief is hard, but this is somehow harder for us. We are lost, and it is time to come home.

Not to a physical place, but to a way of living: interconnected, mutualistic, interdependent. Symbiosis. In the forest, no one is separate from anyone else, everyone is linked and dependent on the community. Trees help each other, they support each other, they protect and shelter and feed one another and all living things, and together they are a forest. I don't really consider myself religious, but I have to reserve something in my head for how it felt to realize what Forest was.

When I noticed the little plants popping up in the sidewalk cracks and gravel paths, the tough weeds holding on in the lawns and pavement, something in my brain began to change dramatically and permanently.

They're still here. The trees. Even in the pavement and lawns. The dandelions have come, adapting rapidly, helping the bees hold on. The wildflower seeds are still sprouting in this depleted ground. Waiting for us to recognize them. Life is everywhere. The Forest is everywhere. It felt like they were waiting. We're here. We have not abandoned you. We are resilience, persistence, survival, adaptation. This is not death. This is Chaos. Come home. Come home. Come home.

I saved little plants from the roadside and tended them in plastic cups. I didn't think it would work. I don't know why I tried. I was acting as something bigger than only myself, responding to a call that moves throughout all of nature. But they survived, and growing and tending to my little plants and trees, I—understood.

I don't know if I believe in God, but I believe in Something, whatever it was that seemed to whisper like a secret: Welcome home, Caretaker.

And honestly, truth shone through then from relics of religion I hadn't touched in ages; God put Adam in a garden, not a suburb, a mall, or a Walmart. This is who you are. Not a Consumer, but a Caretaker.

And when the threat of the Flood loomed, God told Noah to start building a fucking boat.

In ecology, the plants we know as "weeds" are pioneer species: the first species to return to an area after a natural disaster or mass extinction. They survive in the harshest conditions, and prepare the land for regeneration. This is who you must become.

Look to the Dandelion—in just a few hundred years on this continent, Dandelion has risen to the highest calling of a Weed: first survive where the others can't, and then help the others survive. If the human species is to survive, you must be a weed species. You must adapt relentlessly, resist eradication, and protect and nurture other life forms by your very nature. You must be tough as nails, and make the world a gentler place through your survival.

Have you heard the saying that grief is love with no place to go?

That's the hard part.

We must grieve, but it is not yet time to grieve. It is time to love.

[oobbbear]

This rant has 1 target audience and it’s me sorry I like to talk about my unfinished/abandoned stories like they’re successful tv shows and I’m the director getting interviewed about the little details of said show

I love afterland postal so so so much you don’t know how hard it was for me to cut it, but it got to the point that it’s effecting my mental health so I had to stop it. His story in the afterlife is a healing journey, so for that healing journey to be effective I have to make the downfall in his past life hurt, like, HURT hurt, and I went a bit too far that and focused on it a bit too much that I was not working on the healing part anymore. Everyday I regret the making of water angel cause it ended being my fav instead of the protagonists and it being the physical manifestation of death made me focus on the downfall of the story too much, until it literally just crumbled to the ground. If I pick back up Dolus’s story one day I will cut out water angel entirely and maybe most part of his past life, focusing mainly on the afterlife part and how he recovers/deal with his past traumas and rid of bad habits. I want to draw this gremlin again so so bad.

Afterland Postal is a story about learning to love life through death. I like to draw Dolus with CT moon and Callisto sitting together because all three of their stories are about “learning to love life again through the death”. In Dolus’s case is his literal death. For CT moon is him fantasizing death. And for Callisto is through the death of her old life.

After the “death” all three of learned to love themselves again by traveling. They see the world in different perspectives, goes out of their bubbles and get a taste of the wild possibilities of what life has to offer.

For Dolus, I specifically placed him in this post office that delivers mails to the living plane so he can run around experiencing the world but doesn’t have to deal with life? One of his big thing is that he enjoys simply existing, he likes observing the world, feel his surroundings, I had an entire chapter that’s describing how he sees the world through his 5 senses. The feelings are the only thing he enjoyed about life, now he’s a ghost life doesn’t have effect on him anymore, he can really slow down sit down and look at the world he didn’t have the time to look at before, see what he missed and what he may have never be able to see.

For CT moon is basically all described in that If my world goes Bang comic.

Callisto is a different case cause she doesn’t die, strongest fucking character in my stories she survived and very passionate about living. In the original plan after her finding Hester and having Hester’s soul freed, she’s gonna go and travel the world. She has been living in this little house in the middle of nowhere for good half of her life, having her burned down her past and moving on to a new one is good for her. I had a lot a lot of sketches that is just her traveling, I used this as a chance to expand on this weird magical world she lives in, so many cool places and concept. (Also she started dating people again wohoo) I really wish I didn’t burn myself out after that animatic this story would have been so fun to work on.

SPEAKING OF TRAVELING AS A HEALING MECHANISM☝️I m gonna go on a mad Orange Knife spoiler rant since I don’t think there’s a single soul still reading this thing. In Moondust & Natto plot, Moondust really really wanted to see the world with Natto, she loved the world she loved life, in her eyes the outside world is a struggle but one she would fight for because the sunset is beautiful and the grass is soft and for that the hardship is worth it, she loved the world so so much and she wanted to have Natto experience it too. Freedom was a large part of her soul and being add to OK’s collection permanently took that away. She never got to see it again not even the part of her that got added to worm made it out, her soul is killed long ago and body died with the fire that led to Worm and the remaining crew’s freedom, which honestly I think she would be happy knowing that her death freed Natto in the end. She would be mad knowing the person who killed her is freed too but she would understand if she knows Worm’s situation better. After Natto is free I’d like to think he carries a piece of Moondust with him so in his heart he completed their dream, and they can finally experience the world together.

It’s 2am and nothing is making sense sent post to tumblr.com go

[marvelobsessed134]

“You taste divine”

Pairings: James Hetfield x Innocent!Ulrich!Reader

A/n: back with my innocent!reader brainrot fics I love them so much. Fyi reader is 18 James is like 20 something here so it’s all legal

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, non/dub con, overstimulation, loss of virginity, praise, manipulation, James takes advantage of reader’s innocence, probably not accurate to real life events but it’s fiction so it doesn’t really matter

Ever since James met you, he’s been enamored by you. You’re just so sweet and innocent and he wanted to corrupt you so badly.

It all started when he pulled up to Lars-your brother-‘s house and saw you lying on your tummy in the grass while reading a book under the tree. A delicate white dress adorning your small form. The frontman could feel his mouth watering at the sight. Unfortunately it was interrupted by your brother shouting at him to come inside so they can practice.

“Hey, didn’t know you had a sister.” James said.

Lars shrugged, “Yeah, I usually don’t tell anyone cause everyone wants to bone her. But she doesn’t even know it!” He put his hands in the air as he explained. Meanwhile the guitarists’ pants tightened.

James likes them…oblivious. It was a horribly dark fantasy he has. The need to corrupt a innocent girl.

During practice, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and your sweet aura. Fuck, he had to talk to you. Even if Lars would kill him for doing so.

So one night, while the guys were having a random hangout which turned into a sleepover after they had one too many drinks, James creeped his way up to you room. The soft glow from your light peaked through the hallway and he walked inside to see your very girly pink room.

And there you were, on your tummy again but this time on your bed while you sketched something in a notebook. The blonde closed the door behind him making you jump and your head snap in the direction of the sound.

“James?” Your soft sweet voice sounded through the quiet room.

“Hey Y/n.” He responded before walking over and sitting on your bed, “Whatcha drawin’ there?” He motioned towards your notebook.

“Just some bunny rabbits cause I don’t know.” You blushed and giggled.

“You look like a little bunny rabbit.” The blonde said with a smile as he lightly pinched your cheek. You blushed more “Jamie.” You giggled. Oh god he loves when you call him that. Rarely would he ever let someone use that nickname for him but you? You can use it all you want.

“Hey do you mind if I hang out in here with you tonight? The guys are all passed out.”

“Sure.”

He took his shoes off and got comfortable on your bed. Then he leaned forward and grabbed you by your waist making you squeal in surprise before sitting you on his lap.

“James! You can’t do that!” You scolded but you were laughing.

“And why’s that?” He teased, tickling your side making you laugh and squirm, “Lars doesn’t like when- oh my goodness stop that tickles! When boys touch me.”

“Yeah? Well he’s not here now is he?” The frontman replied, stopping his tickling but moving his hand up your shirt towards your breasts.

“J-James what are you doing?” You asked dumbly.

“I just think you’re beautiful and I want to play with you, is it so difficult to understand?” Of course, you don’t know any better so you let him fondle your breasts making you moan at the foreign feeling.

“Can you take your shirt off for me baby?” You complied, taking your little white lace cami off to reveal your bare chest. His hands both came up behind you and tweaked your nipples, rolling them around in his fingers. “Jamie!” You gasped.

“Feels good doesn’t it honey?” You nodded, still a little unsure.

“Can you lay down for me?” The blonde asked gently and you nodded once again, lying down next to where he was sitting on your bed. He got up and tossed your sketchbook and pencils haphazardly onto the ground and pulled your legs so you’d get close to the edge of your bed. He carefully pulled your shorts and panties off, “Spread those legs for me baby. I just want to see how pretty you look down there.” His tone was so gentle and trusting. You had no idea how he really felt. How he was finally getting his perverse fantasy to come true.

As instructed, you spread your legs. “Oh god, look at that little pussy.” You didn’t know what any of those words meant minus the ‘oh god’ part but you felt like you could trust James, he’d never do anything to hurt you right? He’s older than you and knows more than you.

The guitarist slipped his finger up your folds making you jerk your hips up and hiss. You’re so sensitive down there. He licks his finger clean before getting down on his knees and licking a bold stripe against your pussy.

“Oh!” You moaned in surprise. The singer chuckled against you sending vibrations throughout your body. He continued to eat you out causing you to shiver and shake under him from all the newly found pleasure you experienced.

You felt yourself get overwhelmed with this tingly feeling in your cunt and you tried to back away to make James stop, “Please, James stop! It’s too much I don’t know what going on too tingly n’ itchy- oh!” You screamed out in pleasure as your first ever orgasm hit you like a truck.

“So good baby, oh my god you taste divine.” He moaned as he lapped up all your cum before standing up to check on you. He pressed a kiss to your lips before undoing his belt and letting his jeans and boxers fall to the floor.

His dick sprang to life hitting his stomach before he guided it to your core, rubbing it up and down your folds making you gasp, “What are you doing now?” You asked a little nervously.

“I’m playing with you, remember?” He didn’t want you to know exactly what he was doing to keep a tiny bit of your innocence for his own sick pleasure. He slowly entered your tight hole making you hiss in pain, “James stop! That hurts!” You cried but he kept entering you, staying still for a bit to let you adjust to the feeling.

Once you calmed down he started to thrust himself inside, and the pain you felt quickly turned to pleasure as he hit your g spot over and over. James gripped your hips as he fucked you.

“Fuuuck so perfect for me. Taking my dick so good.” He growled as he upped the pace making you moan and cry out. He didn’t care if anyone heard the two of you, he was too caught up in the moment.

“Jamie!” You cried out as you felt your second orgasm arriving and hitting you again making your vision white for a second. “You’re such a good girl letting your brother’s friend play with you like this.” The vocalist moaned before he pulled out of you to shoot his load on your tummy.

He scooped up his own cum with his finger and brought it to your mouth, “open.” He commanded and you did as he said, taking his finger in your mouth and tasting the salty release.

“Good girl.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)

and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)

Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.

Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 

Like that'd happen, but you can dream.

It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.

“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.

Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.

…

After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.

A muse.

Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.

You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 

The slight bit of quiet, then.

Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.

So you do some searching inward.

And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.

…

“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.

“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.

“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.

“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.

“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”

“Torch? Hmm… and that?”

It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.

You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 

It's a moment of peace. and warmth.

Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.

“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.

…

The next early morning, you find your home gone. 

In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.

Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.

“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.

Cold lips brush against your temple. 

“The only home you need is with us.”

The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.

(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)

jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????

I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.

Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.

[catfern]

nsfw alphabet w ellie

pairing: ellie williams x reader

music: me and your mama - childish gambino

word count: 3.1k (whoops)

warnings: strap usage, masturbation, A VIBRATOR?? (briefly), possessiveness, slightly pervy!ellie, worship / praise kink mentioned, predator / prey kink mentioned, this is just porn.

an: the nsfw alphabet is all i know. i see it in my sleep. seriously i planned on doing this for ellie but i didn't expect i'd go this quickly. at least now i know the alphabet off by heart (i didn't know it before im dumb dumb stupid)

��･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ellie is all. for. it. she goes all out even. she knows she can be rough, she has self awareness, and she is hyper aware of just how fragile you can be. she needs to take care of you. she’ll run a bath, light some candles, or let you slip your full body weight on her as you doze in and out, sleeping through your orgasm(s). it doesn’t matter, anything that brings you from that fuzzy, pussydrunk slut that she loves to torment back to her kind, loving girl is anything worth doing.

she’ll sit on the side of the cold porcelain bath, stroking the muscle aches out of your legs and taking the care to run the warm water along your lower belly. she’ll watch as your breathing slows, your head sinking slowly. and then she’ll carry you to bed, hide you away under the blankets to recover from the reckoning that is her.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ellie is in love with your hips. it’s a perfect anchor point for her hands when she’s holding you, obsessing over you. she feels along the sculpt of them with her finger tips, memorising the bone structure, the softness of the skin. she’ll sketch them in her journal, rough and undefined, obsessive and raspy. She is obsessed! She’ll hold onto them as she moves her way up and down your body, pressing wet kisses from chest to navel. she'll press small bruises into the sides as she loses herself in your cunt, trying desperately to hold onto to the tangible reality of you.

honestly? ellie really likes her arms. she was always seen as this scrawny little snot-nosed kid, so growing up and growing into her stocky frame, broad shoulders and toned arms, it’s something she’s proud of. and of course, her arms lift you up against the wall, her arms drive the power as she stretches her fingers in your walls. so of course, her arms are a fan-favourite as well.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

god, ellie is savage.

your cum is sweet, a nectar on her lips worth tasting. she’ll lick her way up your inner thigh, tasting you like wine. she’ll bring her fingers to her lips, sucking the white lace with a fervour, your smell all over her, in all of her senses. there’s no escaping you, your taste. it’s almost unnatural, otherworldly, the hold you have on her when her head is between your legs. she is both briefly and forever yours, bound to you through the sickening sweetness of your slick.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i mean… ellie is a switch.

she tries her HARDEST to never let it show. she is, after all, the protector, the big tough fighter who swings unrestrained at anyone who looks at you with malice. but.

she just loves you so so much. and you’re so.. so.. beautiful.

it’s really mean of ANYONE to assume she wouldn’t swallow her pride and fall on her knees for you, with soft hands and pleas to let her in and let her taste you. she actually really really loves when you’re a tease, and you’re a little confident. she loves it because she can find her place so easily in your shadow, following you like a lovesick puppy, ready to do anything you want her to. hold her hand and take her anywhere, she’d follow willingly and with a little grin.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

she’s definitely on the more experienced side of things. she’s a slut what who said that?! nah, she fucks around, she likes to try things out! so when she finally finally lands you, she knows her way around. she likes to brag about how little time it took for her to figure you out, but honestly, it’s not like you were hiding anything. she definitely shows off her experience in how confidently she fucks you, in how relentlessly she ignores your pleas to stop because she knows you’re just sensitive and she knows you can go another round.

Shh, babe, you can take it. I know you can.

Just shut up and let me make you feel good. You know I can, stop fucking around.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ellie is all about having you in her lap. your legs spread, wrapped around her torso as she holds you, buries herself in your neck as her fingers dive inside you. feeling the way your ass grinds against her thighs as you beg for release, for friction against your puffy clit. fuck, and the access (!!) it gives her to your tits, to palm them, grab at the fat and grip them, pulling at your nipples roughly to send soft stings down your spine. holding onto the small of your back as you throw your head back, anchoring you to her as if there were no real separation.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

ellie is a class-A shithead, and it’s really no different during sex. she’s a tease, she likes to poke fun at you, especially if you’re laying, dazed and fucked out.

Aw, look at you. Jeez, you really can’t take much, can you? 

She’s really just an asker of questions, especially when she knows you don’t really have the words to string an answer together. This can be serious or teasing, but either way, it’s ellie reminding you just exactly why you put up with her ratbag attitude. 

What did you say, babe? Speak up, I can’t hear you.

Tell me how you like it or we won’t keep going.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

ellie does not give one single, flying fuck what she looks like downstairs. as long as it’s not unruly, and doesn’t get in the way, she’s fine with it. in fact, does she even understand the concept of being completely bare? absolutely not. it’s ridiculous in her mind. a waste of time. she trims back only the necessary, to look and keep relatively clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

she’s never read any romance, or watched any romance. she’s not a consumer of romantic media but god, does she hit every fucking mark when she wants to. the soft, tender kisses, the slow hands, the praise. she can be very romantic when she wants to be, when the pendulum of her personality is sitting perfectly between her two extremes; her warm infatuation and her cold command.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ellie got off to you way before anything romantic happened, shamefully. Just ask her journal. She’d hunch over it at night, in such unnatural and possessive form, obsessing over the peek of your stomach she saw that day, or the curve of your waist as you walked. Or more often than not, she’d piece together how you looked under all those layers, drawn in harsh charcoal lines. daydreaming about what it would feel like to have your hands on her legs, ghosting their way into her thighs. how it would be to have you under her, those perfect tits bouncing at her command as she thrusts her fingers, slick with your imagined cum, inside you.

after you two got together though, she’d snapshot every piece of you in surprising detail, shoving her hand in her pants at the memory of you. at everything she got to do to you, to do to the body she daydreamed about.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ellie is the duality of man. she most definitely has a worship and praise kink, it goes with her obsessive side. she has painted you in every crevice of her being, and sees you in her peripheral vision by design. you’re everywhere she is, so naturally, she worships you. you, a deity, her, a disciple, she’ll kiss you tenderly, on her knees as she sings praise in your ear. and the moment you return it, with kind words and you’re so good, baby, thank you. FUCK. she’s all over you, gently, but passionately, worshipping every part of you like you were pieced together solely to be god’s divine on earth.

when she’s less obsessive, she’s possessive. hers, hers, hers. she would keep you all to herself if she could, it’s all she really thinks about. i feel like ellie would definitely develop a bit of a predator / prey kink (@bambiesfics her fic is the direct inspo) because of her primal need to have you, to cage you. you belong to no one else, and you’re hers to do with what she pleases, which is always making sure you feel perfect.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

gonna repeat myself AGAIN! when you get involved with ellie williams, you are all hers. there’s absolutely no sharing, no showing, no knowing. she’ll fuck you in the house, all doors locked, all curtains closed. one hand over your mouth, the other stretching your walls viciously, there’s absolutely no aspect of you that she’s willing to escape to the eyes and ears of others.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

a dress. any dress. going commando, having no bra, bending over, grinding on her, dancing on her, the list goes on, but we’d be here all night if i were to do that. seriously, just you, but especially you in a sluttier form. keeping certain parts of yourself uninhibited, all for her, or at least she likes to think that. god. one time you wore nothing but an apron LORD. that really was all for her. any time you’re willing do anything just for her and no one else, the knot ever so tightens in her stomach.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

ellie would never hurt you. there’s a little leeway, with a light slap to keep you focused, or the absolute abuse she hurls at your ass and cunt when she has the opportunity, but really, truly, properly hurting you. she knows that some people really like it! but she could never. you’re too precious to her, it hurts her soft side too much to let it slide. she is that big strong man, after all. she’s gotta protect what’s hers.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

ellie is all about the giving (service sub much!!). she loves the sounds you make, the feeling of your legs clamping around her head like a gilded cage she begged to be in. and god, is she good at her job. she’s gentle most of the time , takes her time, listens to the softest of moans that slip through your lips, feels for your heartbeat on her tongue to know exactly when to dive her tongue inside you like she’s starved.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it rlly does depend. like i’ve said, she loves to take her time with you, unravel you slowly like a ribbon in a knot, working her fingers into your gaps to pull you apart with precision.

sometimes though, it’s just not enough. she gets jealous easy, and her jealousy isn’t pretty or whiney or healthy. her jealousy leaves bruises, and bites. her jealousy drives your head into the headboard relentlessly, beating you down into the rhythm in her head. mine, mine, mine. she’s fast, she’s uneven, for once, it’s not about you. it’s not even about her. her ruts and growls are primal, something completely untouched, the energy is raw, unforgiving, toxic as she rams into you at top speed, little regard for your choked moans or pleas to slow. you deserve this, she deserves this.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

quickie? don’t know her. as desperate as ellie is for your touch, your taste, she thinks its only deserving that she devotes her time to you, to show you how much she cares for you, wants to make you feel good. plus, there’s a million things she wants to do to you while fucking you, so pulling you aside for a minute isn’t really gonna cut it. 

and of course, it comes with the added bonus of making you wait. she loves a needy girl. so desperate and whiney, pleading with her for just 5 minutes of her valuable time. and she’ll turn to you, with a wild smirk, and tell you to wait. she’s busy, she can’t deal with you right now. god, your disappointment is tempting, but it’s even better to come home to you waiting for her, yearning, wet and pliant like a good girl.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i mean, she’s an adrenaline junkie, so definitely. if you have an idea in mind, she’s happy to try it. as long as it sounds fun, and includes her getting to smack your ass once in a while, she’s game.

taking risks during sex, however, isn’t reallyellie’s thing, unless you ask of course. She’s mean, she’s unhinged and a little bit pervy, but consent is her top priority! she never, ever wants to make you uncomfortable, or hurt being around her, so she’s not risking doing anything you wouldn’t like.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

ellie is surprisingly steadfast. she doesn’t tire quick, she doesn’t let herself falter. sometimes, sometimes, she slows. gets too caught in the thick haze, the dull noise of your moans underneath her, the buzzing pleasure in her cunt. but she picks herself up quick. most of the time, your needs come first, and she keeps a personal best, in her journal, of how many times she’s made you come back to back, so she likes to push her limits.

usually, when the tables are turned, she can only last one round though. poor, sensitive girl. she can't take much, handle her with care.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

ellie has a strap, sure. but c’mon, she’s a bit more creative than that. she enjoys the roughness that using a strap brings, but feeling you, actually feeling you. that’s different. stretching her fingers inside your puffy walls like she’s never known the feeling of anything else, manoeuvring with the precision that only a guitarist’s fingers could have, that a strap could never offer.

she does, however, like the jaunt of your hips when she has a vibrator on your clit. it’s big, it’s loud, it’s purple, it tells everyone exactly what you’re up to, but she doesn’t care. she watches how your eyes screw shut, how your legs move to close but she stops them, pinning one knee down on the bed with a harsh push. and she’s gotta admit, the feeling of the slight vibrations in one hand, as the other pushes inside of you, strong, slow. okay, okay, maybe she does like some toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ellie is brooding, and grumpy, yeah, but she’s also fun. she loves to tease, to remind you of all the little sounds you make, all the things you blurt out during sex that you probably wouldn’t have said otherwise. 

Don’t worry, darling. mommy will get that for you.

Come on! I wanna hear you say it again, it just sounded so good rolling off those pretty lips.

when she’s really horny which is all the time, she’ll tease you in public spaces. out in the club? she’ll brush a hand over your clothed clit while dancing. what? she didn’t do anything, ‘don’t look at me like that’. out to dinner? she’ll whisper all the things she’d really like to be doing with you on top of that table. Don’t act shocked.

Then, when the night is over, she’ll run a finger along your wet slit, and smile, like it’s a prize. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

ellie is LOUD. she’s all in for the effort, the strain. she grunts as she pounds into you, like an animal. crazed and low. she’ll moan into your pussy like a bitch in heat, sending the vibrations running up your spine. she loses herself in you, loses all inhibition. there’s no secrets with ellie. you’ll know exactly how good you make her feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

ellie really enjoys girls with long nails! i can hear the masses coming for me now with pitchforks and torches, but hear me out!!

listen, longer nails, ACRYLICS?, stroking down the back of her neck as you hold her, digging into her shoulder blades as she slams into you.. i mean. she’s all about leaving marks, both on you and herself. she enjoys showing off the vicious red streaks you leave on her back when she’s inside you, and on her shoulders as she’s eating you out. it’s a reminder to everyone who she belongs to.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

ellie is toned. she’s not rlly a gym rat, so her muscle sits where she uses it most. she has incredibly strong legs, surprise surprise, from casual jogs and full-on, run-for-your-life sprints. she has sleek, muscular arms from carrying heavy duty weapons, and her back muscles are insane, you’d think she does laps and laps around a pool every day. she’s scrawnier around her shoulders, but it weighs even with her frame. and nothing gets in the way of her holding your body weight on her forearms as she dives into your throbbing cunt.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

oh, she yearns. fuck, just about anything you wear, or anything you do, gets her even  slightly buzzing. she loves her soft moments with you, where she just holds you, dances with you, jokes with you, but you can count the days that didn’t end with sex on one hand. she needs you badly. and yeah, she has, and will continue to, beg for it, just in case you were wondering.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

ellie doesn’t like, leave planet earth right after finishing. she’s tired, but she knows you’re so much worse for wear than she is. so she’ll take the time to care for you, hold you close and whisper sweet things, and then, as your breathing slows, and your body slumps, she passes out. like you could not get a hold of her if you were blasting an emergency siren in her ear canal. she doesn’t wake up until she’s scheduled to, until the shrill, familiar tones of her alarm clock jolt her awake (which, lets be honest, she sleeps until like, 1pm). if you need her before that time, go ask someone else. she will not help you.

[pepper-makes-art]

relavity falls stans, graunts, n friends

oK THEYRE HERE NOW AND NOT JUST FIDDLEFORD!!!

fiddleford can be found here!!!

i wish i could've done more sketches but im a bit busy atm </3 will def do some on the weekends though!!

on the au:

instead of taking place in 2014, it takes place in 2024 now! which doesnt rlly change much outside of appearances and slang lol.

bold is what their au name is

stanford (ford) <--> dipper

pretty self explanatory! i feel like stanford'd be an x-men fan, hence the x patch on his shoulder lol. also yes, dipper is a trans woman here. and she has glasses bc fuck dude i hate drawing regular eyes.. i thought the design looked a bit empty, so i decided to make that cool glove thing ford had dipper's robot hand thingy!

stanley (lee) <--> mabel (mason)

stanley now wears a hat. hoorah. nothing much to say here besides him also smuggling shanklin in (w/o the knife unfortunately). mabel's still impersonating her sibling (who, before the portal scene, doesn't know that she's a girl now) under the name of mason, but has ultimately shed her sibling's fashion tastes for her own. mabel wears a turtleneck UNDER the suit bc she doesnt feel heat apparently!

candy <--> wendy

candy's now a 15 yo asian kid who took up the cashier job under grauntie bc she needed more extracurriculars and the experience. totally cant relate to that haha. wendy's now a 12 yo mischievous lil lumberjack who's best friends w/ stanley (i thought it'd be interesting since theyre all now still associated w each other) and who has ALL the middle school tea (which is A LOT)

grenda <--> soos

as much as i want the ages to line up relatively (haha get it.), i think it'd be funny if mabel just hired a bunch of teenagers to run the shack (not sure what to call it). grenda's the 15 yo handy(wo)man who has the voice of an angel and the golden mentality of "smash with couch"! soos is now a friendly n equally naive 12 yo who's best friends w stanely (yada yada) and who somehow always solves problems

on dipper and mabel (will be using he/him for pre-transition dipp):

hoo boy. i see SO many ppl arguing abt their relationship, and i just gotta say, i can tell who has siblings and who doesn't! (joke. thats a joke. mostly) anyways, theyre good siblings!! up until high school, where after drifting apart somewhat, they have a big argument abt where theyre going in life - dipper wants to go to insert rlly good college name and become a scientist while mabel, well, she doesn't know where she wants to go. unbeknownst to them, while theyre fighting, their parents are also fighting. suddenly, their parents split, and mabel is forced to live with her mom and dipper with his dad, far apart from each other. dipper (wearily) accepts this while mabel silently resents dipper for his submission

dipper attends his dream school but is unhappy in his schooling years. afterwards, with his 12 phds or whatever the hell, he goes to a quaint town named relativity falls... mabel becomes an artist of sorts, taking commissions n such, but finds that this doesn't exactly lead to profit. she then becomes a sort of con(wo)man and psychic in attempts to capitalize the strange. she DEF doesn't get into as much srs trouble as stanley did back in his day, but she still lands herself in hot water from scamming and stealing across state lines...

im tired rn so lmk if yall wanna hear more lol.

[coeurify]

hear me out…. bumping into ellie wasted at a nightclub dancing makin out then she recognises u irl a week or smth later n it is on!!!!!!

ok.. this took a turn to be more post makeout fluffy loser ellie so.. yea!

Ellie was not someone who made out with girls in clubs, drunk off of whiskey she only ordered to try and show off to Jesse and Dina. Sure, she saw it happen— it was normal. But no, Ellie definitely did not.

Ellie never called herself a pussy, she would never admit that. But Jesse had no problem snickering it whenever her freckled cheeks were painted red after a girl looked at her at a bar or club. She didn’t usually do anything about it. Hell, the last time Ellie got laid it was because a girl had straight up asked her. Ellie just was not the best at all that.. seduction shit.

Nor was she good with no strings attached shit. That one-off hookup turned into a situationship that she couldn’t let go of. Ellie also had a tendency to pine over the most minor interactions with people. Once, a barista handed her a straw and after their fingers touched, she convinced herself it was the love of her life for the next week. So.. one night stands or messy kisses in the dim lights of clubs were not exactly her thing.

Except for once. Last Saturday, 12:07 am. Not that she had memorized it or anything. Totally not. She definitely had not scorched the night’s memory (of her hands against hips, lips that tasted like the cranberry juice mixer against her own, soft hands pulling her bun out to run fingers through it) into her brain. No way.

What Ellie will admit she remembers was the embarrassment that singed the baby hairs on the back of her neck as Dina slapped an arm on her back, the three drunk young adults clambering out of the tightly packed club close to 1 am. “I knew you had it in you! You totally rocked that girl’s world. Jesse, you owe me five bucks.” Then Dina had stuck an expectant hand out to Jesse, causing a short offended gasp from Ellie. “You made a bet on me?”

They did. Ellie’s own best friends had no faith in her ability to have quick and fun hookups like everyone else their age. But she had proved them wrong! She had made out with a really, really pretty girl.. no strings attached.

She didn’t even know your name. Not that she had to. You were both all too happy to skip the pleasantries and get straight to having your hands on each other. It wasn’t like she was wondering what your name was, and if she could find you somewhere on social media the entire walk home that night.

Definitely not. She convinced herself of this every day since then. Every time she saw a flash of hair that looked like yours around, or when her brain went a little haywire, and she came back to the messy sketch of your eyes on her notebook.

Within the week, Ellie had forced herself to get a grip. It was just some random making out, for fucks sake. She had no reason to daydream about how you had keened into her when she bit at your bottom lip. No right to be squeezing her eyes shut to remember how it felt to have your hand slip up the loose material of her shirt, heated touches against her stomach.

No, those flashbacks started to settle simply from the pure stubbornness of her own brain, which shot scoffs and head shakes straight out every time one popped up again.

But now, with her back pressed to the uncomfortable metal of a cafe chair, flannel pushed up to her elbows as she tilted her head back to enjoy the breeze from the sky, she started to think again.

Dina was leaning over a menu, biting her lip as she tried to decide what drink to order. It had been Dina who suggested they sit outside, at this particular cafe, so maybe El should blame what happened next on her.

The soft sound of the door swinging open sounded, bringing the auburn-haired girl’s face down from where it tilted into the sky.

For a second, she thought she was hallucinating. Really. Maybe something had been slipped into the water next to her, or maybe Dina had like— poisoned her for calling her annoying earlier. Because certainly, this was not real.

Your hair, the one she had brought her hands to tug at the other night, was on full display, your head tilted down as you rummaged through an apron with the cafe’s name printed on it. Ellie knew it was you right away, and blinked a few times to ensure this was not some evil hallucination.

The auburn-haired girl sat up a little straighter on the chair, causing an awfully loud screech against the cement. Your head came up simultaneously, the pen now in hand.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flipping to an empty page in your little order book. “Had to find a pen. What can I get you guys?”

You smiled, just like you had under the flashing lights of that club, and it was just as pretty as Ellie remembered. But when your eyes met hers, that smile faltered slightly. The pen slipped from your grip, clambering right onto the table with a very annoying ping sound.

Dina reached her hand to grab it, but Ellie was faster. As if was some competition, she leaned slightly over the table and wrapped her fingers around the pen, holding it up for you. “Here,” she mumbled, trying to keep any voice crack to herself. “Thanks..” you hummed, sniffling.

Dina eyed between the two of you, slightly convinced she had just been forced into the middle of some awful cheesy romcom, something that would be promoted with big blocky letters like ‘cafe meet cute!’ She cleared her throat, breaking the weirdly tension-filled stare down happening between the two of you.

“Sorry—“ you apologized, throwing on another cheery smile as you looked at Dina, “what can I get you?”

Ellie doesn’t even hear Dina’s order, and she also doesn’t prepare hers. She is too busy nervously twisting a finger between her other hand in her lap, sneaking very obvious glances at you, and then back down to the menu that looks like pure gibberish.

“Cool! And for you?” your voice questions next, smooth and sweet in a way that had the film reel of Saturday playing in Ellie’s head all over again.

“You can kiss me, you know?” you called over the loud music of the club, ignoring how bodies bumped against you every other second, sending you stumbling further into Ellie, who you had flipped to face, her hands still gripping your waist. Your eyes blinked slowly at her, glossy lips twitching up, head dizzy with the vodka and cranberries you had. Ellie wasted no time after your request, pressing forward harshly to capture your lips.

Ellie cleared her throat, “Uh..” great, she had totally no idea what to order. “Honestly, I’ve never been here... I’m not sure what I’d like. What’d you recommend?”

Dina didn’t even hold back the scoff from the other side of the table, because, really.. that was Ellie’s line?

You seemed to find it endearing, though, meeting her eyes again as you suggested your favorite sandwich and drink, pointing toward it on the menu.

“Cool…cool.. I’ll try that,” Ellie nodded, leaning back into her chair again. The sandwich you recommended had tomatoes, and she hated tomatoes. But it was fine.

You nod one too many times before turning on your heel and speed walking inside.

Dina started immediately. “Why the hell did you just eye fuck our waitress?” she accuses, leaning in to squint her eyes at you. “Also, you are fucking ass at flirting. Staring at someone with those freakily green eyes just doesn’t work.”

Ellie frowned, “fuck off, Dina.”

She waited to speak until she was sure you were inside the cafe again. “That’s the girl I made out with at the club,” she muttered, flushing slightly.

Dina’s mouth dropped open, “You’re shitting me.”

Auburn hair shook slightly out of place as the other sighed. “Nope. It’s totally her.”

“Damn… maybe you’ve got some weird curse on you that, like.. bans you from having one night stands.”

Ellie only scoffed in response. It didn’t feel like a curse, maybe more like a blessing to see you again.

“Hey, you can go two for two with shitty lines for waitresses and put your number on the receipt.”

Ellie rolled her eyes like it was a bad idea, but she definitely would do it.

[dizzyjelly]

Pool Party

Part 2 here!

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: You and your best friend Ellie go to a pool party together, you kiss in a game of truth or dare then share another one later that night in your bed.

Cw: Reader is characterized to have social anxiety, drinking, brief mention of insecurity but not too bad.

It was the very last month of summer before you'd return to college, and you were doing your best to enjoy every minute of it. Granted that meant spending nearly all your time with your best friend, Ellie. Today was gonna be real fun though because your friend Dina had invited you guys to her boyfriend's for a pool party. She said there'd be drinks and whatnot and you were welcome to stay overnight, but you weren't sure if you were going to or not. Right now it was just getting around to noon and you sat on your back porch swing with Ellie who was sketching in her journal.

"What are you drawing?" You asked as you leaned over, your cheek resting against her arm as you watched her skillfully draw closely.

"That." She muttered, gesturing to your neighbors yard which had a rather large water fountain.

It was quite pretty, and delicate too. The previous owners had it installed and the new ones never bothered removing it, which you found to be smart. You sighed against the auburn haired girls freckled arm, boredom taking over your every being.

"Can we go to lunch before heading to Jesse's?" You asked politely as you brought your hands to wrap around Ellie's forearm.

"Ok sure. Where d'ya wanna go?" She asked, already standing as she closed her journal and tossed it to where she previously sat.

You shrugged, "you pick, you're driving anyway."

"Alright, you got a suit underneath that?" She asked, referring to your yellow sundress.

"Nope, was gonna bring it with." You answered as you walked inside through the sliding door.

Ellie followed you all the way to your bedroom, watching as you opened your top dresser drawer and took out a bathing suit. You'd decided on one of your favorites, a sage green bikini that tied in the back. You smiled to yourself as you thought back to when you'd worn it to the water park with Ellie last month and she told you that you looked gorgeous.

You stuffed the suit into your usual tote bag, along with a black cover-up and spray on sunscreen and tanning lotion. You didn't bother bringing anything else as you didn't really need anymore than that. You now quirked a brow at Ellie.

"You've got a suit on?" You asked

And she simply responded by pulling up her shirt to reveal her black bikini top that appeared to match her red-black shorts which you now realized were swim trunks. You merely nodded your head in response then followed her out to her car. She'd roll the windows down as you got in, it was scorching hot out today. Her AC wouldn't kick in for a few minutes so you let your head peek out the window a bit to feel the breeze.

At each stoplight she'd catch a glance at you, smiling in adoration as you looked so content. Her smile grew even bigger if you were singing along to whatever was playing on the radio, or even better dancing a bit. It didn't take long for Ellie to pull into where she wanted to eat. You stood and followed her into the Subway, there wasn't a long line but it was enough that you waited a few minutes before ordering.

"Els, can you order mine for me?" You'd whisper as the two of you approached the sub station, most of the time you could order yourself but sometimes you just got nervous.

"Of course." She whispered back, staring down at you as you clinged onto her arm and let your eyes roam around the small restaurant.

Once you had your food the two of you sat down in a booth closer to the door. Ellie unpacked everything, opening her chips before taking a large bite from her warm sub. She pinched her fingers together as she smiled with delight at the taste.

"Perfecto." she'd say in an Italian accent, which made you giggle.

As you continued to eat you'd make small talk, and eventually you started asking about the pool party. Ellie was closer with Dina and Jesse that's for sure, so you mostly asked about what they were like. You also asked about how many people there would be and things like that.

"Eh, not too many. I don't know, like at least twenty." She shrugged, immediately taking notice of how your eyes seemed to widen and the way you let out a deep sigh.

"Hey, it'll be fine though, I'll be there." She reassured, and you nodded.

"Yeah, it'll be fine." You smiled.

You'd both finish your food and be ready to head to Jesse's place in no time. You couldn't lie, you were pretty nervous. Not that you hadn't been to parties before, you mostly enjoyed them too. But something about having to wear a swimsuit in front of that many people had you crawling out of your skin. Ellie didn't make any comments to how you chewed at your nails the entire way there.

She pulled into the driveway and you leaned over the middle console to reach into the backseat for your tote bag. As much as she tried not to, Ellie immediately took notice to your ass and how your little dress rode up your thighs just perfectly. She mentally slapped herself and brought her gaze back to the windshield. You threw your bag over your shoulder and followed Ellie as she walked inside the house.

"Come on, I'll take you to the bathroom so you can change, yeah?" You nodded and followed her upstairs, walking into the bathroom.

"Um, its the one that ties in the back so I'm gonna need your help, kay?" Ellie nodded in response and waited outside the door for you to call her in.

You clicked your tongue a few times as you shimmied out of your dress, discarding your undergarments as well. You slipped on the bottoms and got the top on just to cover your breasts. You cracked the door open, a sign that Ellie could come in. She walked in and shut the door behind her, your bare back faced her. Your breath hitched for a moment as her rough but soft hands grazed your back as she pulled at the strings, tying them into a little bow.

You turned around to face her with a thankful smile, stuffing your clothes into your bag then linking your arm with her own and letting her take you outside to the back. There were definitely more than twenty people there, and you already felt nervous. Ellie could tell by the way you pulled your cover up over yourself uncomfortably, but she always knew how to make you feel better.

"You look great in that suit by the way. It's my favorite one of yours y'know." She leaned down to whisper in your ear, and it was the confidence boost you'd clearly needed as you stopped wrapping your arm over your stomach consciously.

"Thanks." Your smile was a mile wide as you looked over at her, and hers the same.

You set your bag down on one of the pool chairs then took a seat on it, watching as Ellie walked to a table of drinks to get something for each of you. You felt out of place as there were groups of people all around, talking and laughing with each other. But then Dina came to say hi to you, she was dripping as she'd already taken a dip in the pool.

"Hey Y/n!" She gave you a hug, wetting you slightly.

"Hi Dina." You smiled as you wrapped your arms around her, cringing a bit at how her wet hair dripped on your shoulder.

"Oh, shit sorry. I saw you in your suit so I just figured-" She started to ramble.

"It's fin, really. Don't worry about it" You shrugged with a smile and she nodded.

Ellie returned with two red solo cups, handing one to you as she wrapped her arm loosely around Dinas waist as a greeting. You gave her a small thank you as you began to sip on it. Minutes would go by as the three of you talked, your drink was forgotten about as you set it on the table beside your pool chair, getting lost in the conversation. A few minutes later Ellie finished her drink and discarded her shirt with your pile of things.

"You wanna hop in?" She asked you as she tilted her head towards the pool, which was unfortunately filled with people.

"Yeah!" You agreed anyways, probably because you were a bit tipsy.

You removed your cover up then followed Ellie as she walked in at the steps, making her way to the middle of the pool so she was halfway submerged in water. You met her there, the water cupping just below your chest as you were a bit shorter than she was. Ellie chuckled at the sight of you, bringing her hands to rest on your waist underneath the water. You smiled at her, a faint blush spreading across your face at her rather intimate touch.

It wasn't unusual for Ellie to get handsy when she drank, so you were used to it. But it still never failed to fluster you each and every time. Today you were feeling rather bold because you brought your own hands to rest at the back of her neck. The two of you just stood there, smiling at each other. That was until some dude decided to cannon ball and splashed the both of you, leaving you both soaked.

"Ah, fuck!" You shouted with a groan.

Ellie just raised her arm to the side of her head with a grimace on her face, remaining mostly unbothered. You, however, were extremely pissed. Angrily, you made your way to the steps and stomped out of the pool. Ellie followed you out with a sigh. You rushed over to your seat, wrapping a towel around yourself with a grumpy frown.

"Y/n, come on, it's not that big of a deal. It's a pool party!" Ellie was just trying to be kind as she sat behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Well, it's a big deal to me!" You shouted at her before throwing your towel at the poor girl and walking over to pour yourself another drink.

Ellie closed her eyes with a sigh, setting the towel down on the chair. If you were going to be acting like this, she didn't wanna be around you. So she found her way to Dina and Jesse instead. You felt a slight pang of disappointment at the lack of her when you went back to your chair, but you were quickly occupied by some guy as he walked over to sit next to you.

"So, how do you know Dina?" He asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Friend of a friend I guess." You shrugged.

"Sweet, you here with anyone?" He asked as he looked your figure up and down.

"Yeah, Ellie." You were quick to answer, oblivious as to what he was really asking.

"Oh, got it." He got up and left you alone after that.

You were confused, but didn't let it bother you long. You were on your third drink now and had the courage to make your way over to Ellie who was sitting with Dina. Jesse had been with them moment prior, but now he was busy jumping off the diving board and hollering like a child.

"Hey." You greeted shyly as you sat beside Ellie, close enough that your bare thighs touched.

"Hi." She muttered as she shot you a glance, one that said 'you done being a bitch?'

You sat silently for a while, your leg bouncing nervously as you were unsure of what to say. Eventually you found your words, leaning over to whisper in your best friend's ear as your hand landed on her thigh for support.

"I'm sorry." You meant it genuinely.

"It's ok, I know." She'd whisper back in your ear, then place a small kiss to your shoulder as a sign of affection.

You smiled to yourself a bit, your hand coming back to rest in your lap as you finished your drink. Dina offered to grab you another and you weren't gonna say no. Ellie was growing concerned at your state, which caused her to ask you,

"How many have you had?" She quirked a brow.

"Only three." You shrugged as if it wasn't a lot.

"Only!? Jeez woman. You're lucky I'm driving." She muttered to herself as she shook her head.

You, Ellie, and Dina just sat and talked while you and Dina downed your drinks. Ellie decided to cut you off, at least for a bit. She had you drinking strictly water as she said she didn't want to hold your hair back while you threw up later. Reluctantly, you agreed with her, because you knew she was ultimately right. Some time passed and Dina called Jesse over.

"Hey babe, what do you think of moving inside? It's just getting kinda dark out.." She asked him.

"Yeah, that'd be chill. Yo, everyone! Yall can come inside if you want!" He shouted to all the party guests.

Ellie helped you collect your things and put your cover up on. You smiled at her as you held her hand whilst you two walked inside. Once you were inside, Dina suggested you play a game of truth or dare. You looked at Ellie, waiting to see if she wanted to or not. She shrugged and just said 'why the hell not' and now there were about fifteen people sat in a circle on Jesse's living room floor.

After hearing some vulgar stories and watching some people consume very gross things, you were finally asked the infamous question.

"Y/n, truth or dare?" The guy asking you had been the one who approached you earlier.

"Truth." You answered.

"Ok, rate your last hook up out of 10." He chuckled.

"Eh, I'd say like a 7." You were quick to answer, unembarrassed of your sex life.

"Jesse, truth or dare?" You asked.

"Dare all the way." He answered confidently.

"I dare you to show us your drivers license." You smiled.

He wasn't that embarrassed about it either which yoh were surprised by. Typically people hated their license photo, but not this guy. Once everyone had seen it Jesse asked Ellie.

"Truth or dare?" He questioned.

"Uh dare I guess." She shrugged.

"Ok I dare you to kiss the hottest person in this room. Guy or girl." He crossed his arms smugly.

Ellies face immediately flushed red. You laughed a bit from where you say next to her. Then you stopped as you wondered who she would kiss. There were lots of attractive people here, maybe that redhead that'd been eyeing her the whole game. But you couldn't have been more shocked when she looked at you. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched as she licked her lips, moving to sit in front of you.

Your hesrt was going a mile a minute as she brought her hand to cup your cheek then leaned in. Here emerald green eyes meeting your own just before her lips met yours. She tasted faintly of booze and mint, chewing gum you assumed. You melted into her touch with a smile. And then it was over and the game resumed. You couldn't believe that really happened, and before you knew it you stood up to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

There you stood, staring at your drunk self in the slightly dirty bathroom mirror as you ran a hand through your hair haphazardly. You blew a deep sigh out of your mouth, what the hell just happened. You wondered what this meant for you and Ellie, if it would change things between you two. But mostly you were scared because you knew you really wanted to kiss her again. After deciding you'd hidden in the small restroom long enough you made your way back out. You sat beside Ellie rather close as you wrapped a hand around her forearm.

"Can we leave? I wanna go." You asked her.

"Oh, sure I guess." She seemed taken aback.

The two of you said your goodbyes to Dina and Jesse before heading out to the car. You sat through the ride back silently. Ellie pulled into your driveway and let out a small sigh, biting down on her lip.

"Do you... want me to stay?" She asked, looking over at you.

"Yeah, yeah." You nodded and the two of you went inside.

Ellie sat in your living room and browsed your TV for something to watch while you got changed in your room. Suddenly everything was going to your head. All the times Sllie would put her hands on your waist, or how she'd hug you a little bit longer than anyone else. The way she'd kissed you tonight, like you were made of glass. What did it all mean.

You exited your room now in an oversized t-shirt and small pj shorts. The shirt which happened to be Ellies that you'd stolen a long time ago. She smiled as she saw you.

"Hey." She spoke softly.

"Hey." You replied shyly.

You sat beside her, bringing your legs up onto the couch as you sat crisscross applesauce. Ellie got comfortable and so did you. Which meant you laid your head on her shoulder while she wrapped an arm around you and rubbed at your shoulder with her thumb. She hit play on the movie but you weren't even paying it any attention. All you could focus on was Ellie. Ellie Ellie Ellie. And her lips. Her hands. Just everything about her.

And since she wasn't a complete idiot, she noticed you staring. She did her best to ignore it, but after a minute or two she just couldn't anymore.

"Is there something on my face?" She turned to ask you.

"What? No." You shook your head, confused.

"Ok, you're just like kinda staring. I don't know." She shrugged, bringing her attention back to the movie.

"Ellie?" She turned to face you once again.

"W-why did you kiss me tonight?" You asked, looking down as you were far too embarrassed to make eye contact with the girl.

"Oh..." Now she sat and stared for a minute, "uh I don't know. I just- I didn't really feel like kissing some rando." She lied.

"Oh, ok." You nodded your head, slightly disappointed.

The two of you finished the movie and you were wiped, so you stood to make your way to your bedroom. You looked back at Ellie who stayed sat on the couch.

"You coming to bed?" You asked from your doorframe.

"Oh, yeah." She got up and followed you, climbing into bed after you did.

You lied there in silence for a bit, you facing the wall and Ellie staring at your back. Until you decided to turn around, and just look at the girl in front of you.

"Ellie" You whispered her name so delicately.

"Hm?" She answered.

"Would you... k-kiss me again?" You asked, trying to sound bold and confident.

"W-what?" She responded, taken aback.

"Uh, nevermind. Sorry that was stupid." You chuckled awkwardly.

But before you could turn around again, she was pulling you in. You sighed into the kiss as your hands found their way into her hair, gripping and pulling lightly. You let out a small whimper as she pulled you on top of her, her back against your headboard as your lips moved perfectly together.

Once you finally pulled away all you could do was smile at her. She smiled too, holding your face with one hand and caressing your cheek with the other rested on your waist. After a minute you slid down her body so that your head was resting on her chest. She held you in her arms and the two of you fell asleep together. Maybe you didn't know what this meant for you and Ellie, but it couldn't have been bad.

[flower-yi]

my entry for @staarri's YOU'RE MY LOVER ! event (❁´◡`❁)

With eyebrows meeting in a crease on his forehead, Kaveh stands in front of the easel holding up the canvas he’s been working on for an hour.

Is this even right? The drover yellow he’s used for the nilotpala lotus doesn’t seem… correct. The painting he’s making has a set colour palette that called for vibrancy but not so overwhelming to the eye, but the shade of yellow left some sort of bad taste on his tongue. The lotuses were not the subject of the painting; a figure in the background he elected to add in because it happened to fit, and blended well with the rest of the  composition.

He can’t quite shake it off.

Biting down on his thumb, he leans in close to scrutinise the colour. The nilotpala lotuses were sketched somewhere close to the waterfalls in the backdrop, so detail wasn’t important. However—it’s not some yellow blob. Kaveh made sure the beauty of the nilotpala lotus was displayed, for it to be noticed by a pair of eyes that’d know its magnificence if one had seen it in person.

It'll be some secret he shares with the viewer; some hidden gem only few would appreciate.

Still, he can’t quite shake it off. When he looks at the painting as a bigger whole, his eyes are slowly drawn by the intensity of the nilotpala lotuses. It’s not annoying, per se, but…

Turning to his wooden palette, the tip of his paintbrush dips into a darker shade of yellow, and Kaveh replaces the bright hue with it.

Though it’d be just something hanging on the wall, he requires it to be perfect. Perfection is required even in something you might not accept, because if the Palace of Alcazarzaray was his magnum opus, this painting shall be his tour de force, his everything, his…

…painting. His painting on the wall.

Kaveh steps back with a sigh. He heard, once, while you were speaking to Cyno, that your favourite flowers were nilotpala lotuses. At that moment, it didn’t strike him as much. He encounters them whenever his path crosses with a body of water, and though they weren’t in full bloom during the times he passes by, their beauty can be easily recognized to those with an undiscerning eye.

You said you liked the shade of yellow the lotuses had, ignoring the brilliant blue its petals centrally flaunt. You were far more focused on the seedpods, and if he had half the manners his roommate has, he would’ve chuckled. Truthfully, it was more endearing than it was amusing. Most would appreciate the flower, beautiful as it was, but the seed pods caught your eye first. The details seem to matter more than the bigger picture.

…It was a painting, however. The subject was the meadow, and the lotuses were mere details in the background.

The rotting ends of his chair drags across the floor as Kaveh brings it back close to the canvas; wood creaking when he takes a seat. Where the edge of the meadow is, the canvas peeks through. The tip of his brush quickly fills in the gaps using hues of green mixed with speckles of black, mixing in seamlessly with the rest of the scenery. Thin strokes of hunter green create stems of the flowers…and he goes back to that drover yellow again.

He manages to stop himself, this time. Kaveh places his paintbrush down and brings a palette knife, scraping it off.

Another colour he won’t use, and if he remembers, he’ll place them in a container to use for another time. He sets the knife somewhere close to the other discarded shades, turning back to the painting to continue placing the final touches.

Thud.

Thud. Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

His brows knit. Is he hearing things? For every streak he makes, a noise follows. Maybe the neighbours are fixing that beam of wood on their porch that juts out every now and then. However, the sounds are… arbitrary. Not concise in the way Taghi hammers down the plank.

Is someone… knocking?

With the painting set aside, Kaveh quickly stands and enters the foyer. It’s times like these he wishes, as beautiful as they are, the sidelites weren’t patterned stained glass because he can’t quite make out the figure outside, and he’s stuck with the decision to open the door.

“Kaveh, hey. I’m not disturbing, am I?”

You’re the figure outside.

“Oh, hey,” you smile when he says your name. “You’re here.”

He tries not to let his mind wander looking at your dopey, lopsided grin. You’re dressed casually, and look like you’re not in a hurry, so, perhaps… “Yep! I’m here. You doing alright?”

“Uh!” Kaveh takes a quick look at the living room. Drat, it’s messy. “Yeah, I am. Hold on, uh… it’s a bit of a mess here. I don’t think it’s—”

“I can always help tidy up,” you offer, but take no step inside. “As long as it’s okay with you, of course.”

There’s not another choice he’ll make other than letting you in. It’s only instinct that pushes him into the kitchen, busying himself with preparing coffee for the both of you. While surprising, your sudden visit is not unwelcome—it only makes Kaveh wonder why you’ve suddenly decided to come, his thoughts becoming wisps in the steam rising from the coffee boiling in the dallah.

“You’re not busy with commissions right now?” When he takes a glance, he sees you’re quietly arranging and capping the tubes of paint on the small table he uses as a workbench. Kaveh’s eyes widen, guilty about the fact you’re cleaning up for him, but there’s a mumble under your breath—one, two, three, four—and his trowels and palette knives are delicately moved to the desk from the ground.

You’re always picking up his messes and putting them back where they belong. Somehow… it’s become routine. He could count how many times he’s seen you like this, and because of it, his feet no longer move. Guilt remains, but takes in the sight of you treating his possessions with utmost care.

Kaveh can’t stop the rush of something, in the back of his brain, when he watches you like this.

How much longer can he take, stifling this fondness inside of him?

“I-I am,” The question is innocent, but manages to stumble him; a nervous laugh bubbling out. “But… just, uh—you know how inspiration goes! Sometimes, I lose steam, and have to let it all out on another project.”

You snort. “So that translates to, ‘I haven’t gotten enough sleep for the past few weeks’?”

Kaveh sees you inspecting the canvases he’s placed by the wall. Your fingers slot between them, as if counting each one. If you asked him, he wouldn’t be able to say how many he’s discarded just for one painting. “Well… not necessarily.”

It goes quiet.

Your huffing breaks the silence. By then, you enter the kitchen, and Kaveh takes note of the frown on your face. He’s standing on the counter, blinking, as you approach him with a furrow to your eyebrow.

A hand lifts, and your thumb swipes over his cheek, just below where those dark circles lie.

“You’re gonna drink coffee with me when you have eyebags under your eyes?”

The action is unexpected, yet expected all the same, because Kaveh can’t stop his stomach twisting in knots, and the heat in his cheeks he wills himself to bury.

“It’d… be rude to let you serve the coffee yourself.”

It’s more than what a friend would do. However, Kaveh convinces himself you’re looking out for him because you go and wipe that finger on some cloth used in the kitchen, streak of paint on your finger leaving a stain.

He convinces himself to stay, and not sprint away, because he reasons, more to himself, “You’re the guest. It’d be discourteous to let you on your own.”

“I can’t refuse that...”

Your sigh is too soft to be mistaken as irritation. Your reluctance in letting him serve coffee bleeds into the heat of your stare lingering on the side of his face as you’re taking a seat by the dining table, gazing.

Kaveh wants to tell you that you should be waiting in the living room, guest as you are, but his head turns in the angle that meets your eyes, and stops.

Your staring drapes over him like a warm blanket. It is all sorts of comforting, heart-soaring, fucking fond and just tender, but its heat suffocates him. Understanding why you’re looking at him like that escapes him like a petal coursing through the wind, leaving his fingertips before he can even catch it.

“Uh… so, what brings you here?”

He can’t dwell on such feelings. His control, though, is tested, because you’re prone to soft exhales and laughter more than anyone else he knows when you’re with him, but it is tempered by the fact Alhaitham sees you like this. Kaveh will just ignore how much it happens with himself.

“Well, someone forgot we were going to hang out today,” The smile in your voice is so obvious. “But seeing as you’re working on something, I can let it slide.”

Kaveh purses his lips. Right. You’d normally drop by with a heads up beforehand, but you’ve visited home too many times that he’d let you in even without prior notice—he can hear Alhaitham in his head complaining about such a thing, but he throws that voice away without any second thought—and he didn’t even question if something slipped his mind.

“You… I’m sorry. Weren’t we supposed to go to Puspa Café today?”

“Yeah.” You answer, but assure him, “But when I got there, Gata was outside.”

“Enteka’s cat?”

“Mm. Cat was meowing to me as if to say they were closed.”

You sound like you’re just making him feel better that he forgot. His scepticism must’ve gotten ahead of you because you’re huffing and puffing. “I checked the doors, okay? It was locked.”

“Right,” Kaveh rolls his eyes. Is that the best story you can make up? “I never knew Sareh had a twin flame.”

“Sareh and I are soulmates,” Faux offence causes a hand to fly to your chest. “Don’t try to say it’s not true.”

“Right, and Lesser Lord Kusanali has a mother. Try making up a story that’s more believable next time,” Kaveh says your name, dripping with incredulity, and you laugh, and laugh; the sound is loud, bright, and just so familiar, like he’s heard it all his life. If he could just get more moments like this, where he’s in the kitchen and you’re just watching, then he can be content. He can be content as it is.

(He won’t have to dream about a day where you and him are lying in bed together, discussing whatever pops up into your mind in hushed voices, because in that fantasy, it’s early in the morning, and the home you’re both in is his. Yours.

“Ours...”

He won’t have to dream to feel how soft you are by his side, how your warmth drums under fingertips tracing absentminded patterns on your skin; just admiring how you’re here with him.

“...Ours.”

He won’t have to dream about something that’s beyond him, because he’ll be content with being someone you can laugh and have coffee with, and the painting won’t haunt him, because then it won’t have to be perfect.)

Your laughter slowly dies down, a smile remaining, and he finds that the coffee is done. With two fenjals in hand, and a dallah in the other, Kaveh hears you following him into the living room.

The table is set, and both of you are sitting on the same divan.

“Smells good like always, Kaveh,” A tip of your tone submerges itself into something like mirth, and he can’t help but scoff, about to say something, but—

“Hold on,” Kaveh rises from the couch. “I forgot something, give me a second!”

He returns from the kitchen with a few items in hand, and takes a second to pour your coffee first. In the order you always make it in, the sugar comes in second, dissolving in the heat, then with the milk; left-over steam turning into wisps from condensation.

You’ve always liked it cold, with inordinate amounts of sweetness in it.

“Here,” Kaveh hands your cup over. “Your coffee, just how you like it.”

Moving to take it, your hand loosely hovers over his. You freeze and pause, looking down at the coffee—did he make it wrong? Did he forget anything? Drat. Maybe there’s a new addition to your recipe—

“You remembered,” Your voice drops from an octave, grip tightening; expression pinched.

He… doesn’t understand what you mean. “Of course I would. You’d think I forgot?”

You laugh, but the sound is strained. “Not really, but…”

Contemplative silence falls onto you. Kaveh thinks it’s about the coffee, and that he’s made it. Something in his gut feels like the issue is not with him remembering, but another thing that’s gotten you like… this.

Just what is it? Kaveh wracks his brain. Several possibilities pop up, ultimately disregarded of how outrageous and unrealistic they are, but one sticks like an annoying fly he can’t catch.

…It flutters away, ultimately, because it’s a possibility he can’t entertain.

The two of you are friends… that’s what you both are, he thinks.

“Are you alright?”

You startle, head snapping towards him. The edges of your smile are forced, another faked laugh leaving you like it’s some practised assurance. “Oh, I’m fine. Just got my thoughts on things. Don’t worry about me, Kaveh.”

“If there’s anything bothering you,” Kaveh says earnestly, “I’m always here for you.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose, Kaveh. You’re busy, aren’t you?” He sees you quirk up and it feels the same. “Don’t act like I didn’t see the painting. I think a few worries and burdens on me won’t kill me.”

Would it, really? As far as he knew, you’re not the secretive type. You tell things as they are, so if you tell him you’re alright…

Then you probably are.

Still, he’s compelled to offer something in return. “You know I don’t mind if you use my shoulder to cry on.”

“You’re not concerned I’ll mess that pretty shirt of yours?”

Kaveh rolls his eyes, “That’s not what I mean.”

The banter falls into place, and he finds you’re chuckling heartily. “I wouldn’t want to ruin that expensively tailored shirt of yours. Seems like a waste to use it for tissues on some measly tears.”

“You need to tell me your tears aren’t measly?”

“Of course not, Professor Kaveh.”

“Hey! Are you mocking me?!”

The banter falls into place with puzzle pieces you fit and connect together with his, and for a second, he can forget how he’s neglected to pour a cup for himself; too preoccupied with tossing light-hearted comments to you like he usually does.

It feels right to be your friend, and just your friend only; it’s the only thing he feels familiar with. To toe the line between friend and lover is a delicate and risky choice, but it is so difficult to look away when he can’t help but bask in the fondness the sight of you brings. Kaveh can’t liken it to anything else but like watching the sun set and rise in a familiar motion, but this time, it is with the lens of knowing that there will be someone whom you will wait day and night for to appear. He can say he can watch people move mountains for others, but he’ll stick to what he knows: painting the sun rising and imagining it setting, because that’s what it feels with you.

It's as if anything he makes is for the purpose of attempting to grasp you in it.

.

.

.

Chatter between the both of you settles, eventually, and not one but three cups of coffee have been consumed. He eventually realised he forgot to pour himself one, and in some forward display, you offer to pour him his.

Kaveh didn’t have the heart to tell you it’s not really customary, because the eager look in your eye had him stuttering over his words, and now, more than five cups have been drunk.

“Think Alhaitham said it’s not proper to drink more than five,” you say, taking his fenjal away from him.

He baulks, mostly more from the fact Alhaitham’s told you about etiquette when he himself doesn’t practise it, and just watches you set aside the fenjals and dallah.

“Since when did Alhaitham even…?”

“Enough about him!” You laugh, patting his shoulder. “What’s that you’re painting?”

He follows the direction of your gaze that settles on the easel standing alone by the windows, most of the afternoon sunlight cascading through the glass panes. Suddenly, you rise from the couch, approaching the painting with childlike curiosity; it makes him gulp.

“Is this the painting you told me about yesterday?” Your fingertips graze the painting, but not so much to ruin it.

Kaveh can’t see your face like this when your back is to him. “Oh, I… uh, didn’t mean for you to see it.” Heat surges on his cheeks and takes a sip from the coffee to hide the flushing. Drat. You’re not facing him—why is he hiding when you can’t see it?

He takes a shaky breath, “I mean, it’s not yet finished—I-I’m planning to give it to you, of course! I wouldn’t hide things from you.”

“You made it? For me?”

“Yeah… I did.”

You fall silent for a moment.

All he can see is your hand still hovering over the canvas, and the little moments where your head tilts slightly to look up at the parts of the painting he normally can see with ease. Kaveh thinks you look nice staring at something he’s made.

He’s too busy admiring you to stifle the desire to take you to the lighthouse he’s helped restore in Port Ormos to take your breath away. The wind from the sea would course nicely through your air, and he can almost taste the excitement buzzing in the air when you lay eyes on it. If Port Ormos would take your breath away, then how would you react to the Palace of Alcazarzaray? He’s too busy staring at your wondrous figure in front of the canvas he’s preening like a peacock in attention to something that’s not even him, but some part of him.

“The nilotpalas lotuses are beautiful,” you murmur, “Is this the meadow you took me to that one time? You made it dreamier than it was.”

“…’Dreamier’?” your voice pulls him back to reality, a weary chuckle leaving him. “I thought it was already dreamy—the  sight, I mean.”

When your head turns, he can see the expression on your face and—

And his brain blanks.

“The nilotpalas,” The smile you’re wearing is bright, and if he looks too deeply, fond. “They’re my favourite part of the painting.”

Words feel heavy on his tongue. “Are they?”

You hum happily, “No matter how far or near you are looking at this painting, you can see them.”

What? That’s not… meant to be. “T-the meadow’s the subject of this painting. I might’ve failed in the composition—”

“It doesn’t take away from the painting, silly,” you cut him off. “You’d know more than me that it adds to it.”

Does he? He thought the lotuses were distracting. What did you mean by no matter the distance, you’d still see them? The purpose of changing the shade used for the lotuses was to hide them, fading it into the background. It wasn’t on purpose that it was supposed to be noticed. Should he just remove them all together? Should—

“You accept suggestions?”

Kaveh startles. He blinks. “What?”

You repeat with a laugh, “Do you accept suggestions? Touch-ups?”

“O-of course, yeah!” Kaveh leaves the fenjal on the table, going up to where you are in the living room. He’s already picking up his paint brush, “What should I change?”

“Hmm…” Your hand moves, looking for the spot you wanted to be touched up, and then you’re leaning in… absurdly close to the canvas?!

“Wait, is this some kind of joke?!” Kaveh reels you back and sees that stupid mischievous smile on your face. You erupt in laughter, “No, wait! I just forgot what spot I was talking about.”

He can’t even summon the usual irritation he feels that appears when talking to Alhaitham.

“No, but, seriously…” Your laughter dwindles into giggles, but Kaveh busies himself in scanning your face for paint on the tip of your nose. Good that there’s none, he’s not sure if the paint’s body friendly… “I wanted you to touch something up.”

Kaveh finally meets your gaze, “Well. No more jokes, if you’re serious about it.”

“Psh, okay.” You roll your eyes. He’s… not seeing it, is he? The fondness in the gesture?

Kaveh looks away, chewing on his lip.

“Can you change the colour of the nilotpalas?”

“Oh,” Kaveh says intelligently, snapping back to you. “The… nilotpalas?”

“They already look nice, but…” You point to the palette knives. “I see some nice shades there. Varying degrees of yellow, but I think… hmm, this one would look nice for the overall colour scheme of the painting.”

The drover yellow enters his sights again. You’re pointing at it.

“Oh, all of that is for the kalpalata lotuses,” Kaveh explains quickly. “Not… for the nilotpalas.”

You look at him, surprised. “I thought you were all using the same colours in different ways? You said that to me, once.”

His eyes widen. Archons, he did. Now, how is he supposed to say No, it’ll look ugly with the rest of the painting, in the nicest possible way?

“Also…” You scan the painting with a confused look on your face. “There’s no kalpalata lotuses in this painting?”

Wait, there’s none? Kaveh quickly searches for them, but finds nothing. “Oh, uh. I—I… I’m gonna add them in once I get the chance.”

“Oh, where?”

“Here, I think…” He tries to find an appropriate spot—

You lower the hand holding his paintbrush, eyes narrowed.

“Kaveh, I upset you…” Your eyes search his face for something he doesn’t know what for. “…didn’t I?”

He licks his lips, swallowing the lump in his throat. “No… you—you didn’t.”

How could you? Yet, you’re looking at him like you don’t believe him. Kaveh is certain he is not, because it’s just some little detail that he shouldn’t be hung up on a painting you won’t probably accept. Why should he be upset? It’s a painting, something hung on the wall; meant to be passed by and ignored. It’s nothing. It’s absolutely nothing. It’s—

“I’m sorry, my suggestion probably didn’t—”

“The… the painting. It doesn’t look ugly, right?”

Kaveh doesn’t understand why you don’t agree with him when you say, “No, it doesn’t?”

He calmly places his paintbrush. “The painting. It… the nilotpalas. It looks good?”

The face you make causes him to think that his question is strange. It isn’t, right? The painting is for you. It has to be perfect. The nilotpala lotuses distract from the main subject, the meadows he’s supposed to capture in the same way you both saw it that day—

“It looks good,” Something warm wraps around his arm and he flinches. “I love it. Your attention to detail never ceases to amaze me.”

It’s your hand, Kaveh belatedly realizes. The palm of your hand is warm over his long sleeves, rubbing circles over his skin, and it causes him to choke on his spit.

“I love how, despite them being in the background, you can see it clearly.”

“You do?”

You grin, “Of course I do. It’s the way every part of the painting has been given utmost attention. I mean, if it was someone else, they wouldn’t have given the nilotpalas a second thought.”

That’s how he’s meant it to be—how it’s supposed to be. Though, he can’t really escape your sights, can he? You… you just disregard all pretense and get to the point. Focusing on all detail, and nothing else.

Unlike him, you choose to enjoy the details; not to stress over it.

“But I like the way they’re sort of hidden,” You continue, some sort of a trance overcoming you. The look in your eyes makes his heart stutter—Archons, he’s dreaming it, he is. “It’s like some hidden gem only people who really look at a painting would know.”

His throat seizes up; eyes stinging. Kaveh calls your name, but you don’t stop.

“And then,” Your hand ghosts over the Sumeru roses sparsely placed in the meadow, “You can clearly see each petal on this. Your brush strokes are so fine that the detail is insane, Kaveh.”

Whenever you speak, it’s as if there’s a million things running in your head. The absentminded slight caressing of the painting is proof of this, and the gentle sparkling of your eyes supports this. You are entranced, and he cannot do anything to stop it.

Why? Why the nilotpalas, and not the entire painting?

“…Can I ask you why you like the nilotpalas?” His question is said in a whisper, teeth gritting against each other. Kaveh feels the question is out of his reach, and there’s someone dangling the answer right in front of him. All he can muster is a stupid, little question that might have a reply that’ll tell him he’s idiotic.

Your head slowly turns, eyes meeting with this, and there’s that soft look again.

Undeniable, yet unattainable.

Something like madness surges right through him because, Archons. Has this painting consumed him, to some point of insanity? He feels like tearing up over this. And for his object… object of affection to say they like a part of it he loathes—

He needs an answer. He has to ask.

“I don’t know who told you, but I like nilotpalas.”

A wry grin lifts the corners of your lips, and your hand slowly slides down to his fingers that’re calloused; nails that’re chipped and have paint underneath them. Your hold on them is so gentle the feeling of helplessness engulfs him.

“I love them, even.” You squeeze his hand. “I don’t know how many times I’ve travelled to Sumeru just to see them. It’s so hard to grow them back home, so to notice one in a painting is like… a blessing. And it’s in a painting made by someone who notices the little things.”

Yet, you’re answering his question with such kindness.

Your gaze flits to his, pausing.

Are you…?

“Yeah,” he croaks out. “It’s okay.”

Kaveh feels his throat drying up, and Archons, the tender lift of his hand to your lips is what does him in.

Celestia, your lips are so soft on his knuckles it drives him up the wall.

He blanks in real time. The subsequent warmth rushing from his fingers to his whole body is all he can focus on, and you.

You shouldn’t hesitate, the wisp of something in him ugly whispers. It festers in him; desperately hoping for something more. Do more, I’d let you. Heck, there’s nothing I won’t let you do. 

What’s gotten into him?

“I think nobody else would’ve kept in mind how much I love nilotpalas, and tried to squeeze them into a painting anyways.”

“It’s not squeezing them in,” Kaveh defends, a touch a bit exasperated, “It’s adding something you– you… you love in.”

Only then when those words stumble out of him, he understands what you mean. Oh, how he wishes he could laugh it out right now–because what he’s realised is that the meadow needed no nilotpalas. It was perfect as it was, and the entire painting was based on the sight he took you to once—there was no nilotpala in sight, and yet, in knowing that the painting was for you, he had, without giving too much thought, added nilotpalas in because you loved them. The painting was made for you, in mind, and in his desire for it to be the perfect painting, he added a thing you love.

Nilotpalas.

There’s a knowing look in your eye. Had you known of his feelings, before, and indulged in them to say as if, I like you too?

You know he’s made such a realization, because the soft curl of your lips is one he knows to be happy.

Then, soft palms make their way up to his face; cupping his cheeks with a gentle hold. The happy smile on you turns a touch bit tender, and your voice turns into something warmer.

“I think nobody else would’ve noticed the way I like my coffee—cold, with milk, and sugar on top.” You laugh, but he doesn’t find the topic amusing.

 “It’s only normal I should remember it.” He says seriously, eyebrows furrowing. “You come by so often I can’t help but remember it.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I also remember you told me, once, how much you like organizing things; cleaning them up—you said it was… therapeutic.”

But despite the revelation, despite all he knows, despite the love he knows is mutual, it nags at him persistently. The answer why is in his grasp, but remains evading reason, and he chooses to ask for an answer, in all of his confusion—“But I could never understand why you’d never clean up after Alhaitham.”

Your answer is a reasonable one, accompanied with a scoff so fondly exasperated, “It’s because he can clean up after himself like an adult.”

“Then, why’d you do it with me?” Kaveh questions, voice above a whisper.

No surprise washes over you this time. Just a simple little chuckle, and a smile.

“It feels as if I’m tracing your path, as if I’m following the footsteps you’ve left behind and witnessing another path I’ve never even thought of discovering.” your voice goes so soft, “I had so much fun imagining what you did with those paints and why you’ve set those trowels and palette knives aside. It felt as if I was there with you, painting.”

“…and if I was painting you?”

It leaves him before he could stop it.

“Then, I’d be able to see what colours you associated with me. I’d be able to know how… you see me.”

It’s simple, the answer. He sees you as if you’ve hung the stars, made the sun set and rise, and controlled the winds and the breeze.

Kaveh doesn’t know what possesses him to step forward, nearly nose-to-nose with you. Your head tilts up to meet his eyes so sweetly, he feels himself melt. Now, like this, he can see how gently you look at him–how the usually bright, wide eyed disposition melts into the fondness he’s mistaken for something else.

“Can I–” his voice breaks, slightly. Kaveh takes a moment to settle his voice, breathing in and exhaling deeply, before he properly asks, “Can I show you how I see you?”

There’s no hesitation.

“Please,” you say–no, ask. “Feel free to show me, Painter Kaveh.”

The press of your lips against him is soft. Eyes fluttering close, the rhythm between the both of you is tentatively explored–you’re trying to see what he feels through this kiss, aren’t you? 

But Kaveh confirms what you’re thinking, anyway; other hand snaking up to cup the back of your neck, holding you closer to him. 

Faintly, he tastes the coffee he’s made for you. The sweetness of the sugar and milk combined is intoxicating, and yet, it feels like bliss. Is that what would life be like with you? Just sweetness, and saccharine? 

Then, slowly, as if not wanting to break away, you pull back and watch him with a clear look in your eyes; somehow firm and resolute, as if that kiss proved everything to you. Did it? Did it prove how miserably he pines for you?

“I like you, Kaveh,” you breathe, a laugh bubbling out of you. Archons, he wants to hear that sound every day. “I like you very much.”

With a hand gently caressing the pulse of your neck, he says, in reply, “I’ve liked you, too, for a long time.”

“Me too, then,” you admit easily, leaning into his touch.

His cheeks heat, and this time, he doesn’t suppress the urge to hide in the crook of your neck. You welcome this with a loud, warm laugh that he can feel shakes your shoulders–and you welcome this change so readily with your arms wrapping around him, abundant laughter turning into giggles.

Kaveh does agree with you, but he thinks he doesn’t need to say it. You know, in the way you begin embracing him, and all he feels is you.

[jakekiszkasmommy]

The Professor Part 3 📖

Warnings: entire series 18+, a little fluff/angst, mentions of sex, kissing

Author's note: I am NOT condoning teachers and students having a relationship like this. This is just my reminder that this is a story made up in my brain. I hope y'all enjoy 🫶 Grammy U Jake sent me into an absolute SPIRAL!!!! I know these parts are shorter but I can't give you all the details at once- gotta leave you wanting more 😘

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

............

You wake up, fully nude, wrapped in your sheets and an empty bed. How foolish were you to think that he would stay?

You roll over and find a few Tylenol on your nightstand with a glass of water. You quickly swallow down the pills and wrap the sheet around you as you step into the chilly hallway.

You wander to the kitchen and find a plate of scrambled eggs with your favorite veggies. A note sits next to it.

You smile as you run back to your room and snag your phone off the charger. You throw on a pair of underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. You add his number to your contact list and open a new text message.

You:

Hi, thank you for breakfast! That was very sweet of you! :)

You lock your phone and toss it off to the side on the counter. Grabbing your plate, you snuggle up on your couch and put on your favorite movie. You were pleased to find that the eggs were still warm and tasted phenomenal!

It passes into late evening and you are still snuggled up in your oversized sweatshirt. Your sister stopped by during lunch to chat but you didn't see the need in changing clothes. Your hair is now a mess in a bun atop your head. You have a notebook and some pencils scattered around you as you heard a knock at your door. You look out the small window next to your front door and see Jacob standing on your porch.

You quickly dart to your room and throw on a pair of shorts before running back to the door. You open it and he turns around to face you, hands stuffed into his pockets. He dressed in baggy jeans that have been patched in countless spots and a dark blue button down. His same necklaces hang around his neck.

"Hey, sorry to pop by. I sent you a text but you didn't amswer. I, uhh, think I lost my wallet here last night." He stands there nervously. Such a change in attitude from last night.

You swing your door open wider for him to enter. "Oh, absolutely! Sorry I haven't been on my phone at all today!" You say, jutting your thumb in the direction of your living room. "I will go check my room really quick."

You head towards your bedroom to search for his wallet. Meanwhile, he steps further into your living room. Approaching the back of your couch, he notices a few sketches strewn across the coffee table and a new one you were working on. He picks up your notebook to get a closer look. It looks like the most beautiful forest scene with a archway in the distance. Every line so intricate and detailed. He carefully sets the sketchbook back down where it was before and looks up to the tv.

The movie you had chosen right before he got here was The Breakfast Club. He turns around, arms crossed, leaning on the back of the couch as you approach. He takes in your appearance and your cheeks flush. You wave the wallet between your fingers. "Found it! It was under the bed, must have gotten kicked under there when- uhh-" you trail off and hand it to him.

He plucks the leather from your hand and tucks it into his back pocket. "Thank you!" You both stand in silence for a few moments before he breaks the silence. "Well, I better let you get back to your night. You are a very skilled artist by the way. I hope you don't mind me snooping a little." He smiles bashfully.

"Oh, um, thank you! I just draw for fun! I actually love literature!" You bounce onto the balls of your feet nervously.

His eyes light up when you say that. "We all have our own creative outlets! Have a good night, Y/n." He says with a soft smile as he makes his way to your door.

.....

You wake up early the next day, wanting to gather everything around for your last first day of classes. After throwing everything into your bag, you decide to throw your sketchbook in as well in case you have any down time between classes. Most of your first day would be spent going over the syllabus and layout of the class moving forward anyways. You were already prepared. You had started on most of the online assignments weeks ago.

After driving to your favorite coffee shop, you order your favorite, an iced pumpkin cream chai tea latte. The first sip is just what you needed to get you through the rest of the day!

You decide that the walk to your first class isn't super far and head towards the direction of the North side of campus where most of your classes were held.

You threw your headphones in and started the trek, humming along to all of your favorite songs.

You pull open the doors to the lecture hall and find a seat right in the middle of the tiered rows. You set your coffee down and begin pulling out anything you think you may need for the morning. Your first two classes were back to back in the same room so that made it easy!

Your first class was rather boring, spent writing down a few notes and went by fairly quickly. You felt like you could actually get through this semester with very little hiccups.

.....

A few of your friends piled into the seats next to you for your second class. You all chatted mindlessly while discussing your class schedules. As the rest of the class shuffled into the room, your eyes looked around to see new and old faces.

Your gaze landed on a figure with his back to you. He had shoulder length brown hair that was ever so slightly naturally curled. A black velvet jacket hugged his top half with dark jeans and black boots to match on the bottom. He was having a conversation with the professor from your first class. You figured maybe it was a student that had some questions and you turned back to your laptop in front of you.

A loud clap from the front of the room made you jump and look to find the source. As you sipped your coffee, you inhaled a gasp and started coughing. Your eyes were wide as you made eye contact with the man that stood in your home just last night. Jacob.

His expression, however, remained calm and he smiled as he introduced himself. "Welcome, welcome. If you don't know me, I am Professor Oliver Reed. Those that know me well call me Jacob." His eyes dart up to you quickly before scanning the rest of the room. "But you may call me Professor. Welcome to-" he turns to write on the board behind him, "'Ancient Greek Mythology and Religion'."

You didn't take any notes during his entire lecture. You couldn't move other than following him as he walked around the room, wildly gesturing with his hands when he talked about what projects you would be working on.

Befofe you knew it, you were mindlessly packing up the rest of your belongings. The rest of your friends hurrying off to their next lectures. You had a few hours until your next set of classes. You glanced down to the front of the room and he had a book open with one of the students, pointing to specific points to note.

You noticed that you were the last one in the room to leave and you made your way down towards him at the podium. Just get this over with.

"Professor Reed," you cleared your throat. His focus is pulled to you as he tucks his hair behind his ear.

"Y/n," he whispers out in a breath. "I- I- didn't know that you were a student. My apologies. I understand if this is an uncomfortable situation for you."

"Jacob," you slip out before correcting yourself. "Sorry, Professor- Sir." You stammer. Your cheeks blushing at the name. "I, want to succeed in this class. I don't want our, um- I don't want that to affect my scores in this class."

He gives you a soft smile, "Y/n, I assure you that I will have an astute level of professionalism. My office hours are daily at 12-2pm. Unfortunately I have to run to my next lecture. We can continue this conversation with any concerns that you may have then. Again, my apologies." This side of him takes you back a little. A man living nearly two separate lives.

"Absolutely, thank you, Professor." You nod your understanding and turn to leave. Your breath is shakey and your legs feels wobbly under his gaze as you ascend the stairs.

The next few hours are a blur. You are jumping from class to class and finally feel like you have a moment to breathe by the time it hits 12pm. Shit. You haul yourself back to to the North side of campus in search for his office.

.....

Three quick knocks on his door. He stands up from his large desk that goes all the way to the floor and strides over to open the door wide. "Y/n, come in!" He closes the door lightly behind you after putting a sign on his door that says 'In a meeting'. You take a seat and he rounds his desk, quickly minimizing a few screens and pulling up a fresh blank document to type any notes on. Your eyes are glued to his open button up; the same necklaces around his neck. Your mind races back to two nights ago, his necklaces tickling your chest as he thrust into you.

"What can I help you with?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Oh- I-," you sit there flustered. "I guess I'm a little confused. Oliver?" You question.

He sees that this is not about the first day of classes but more of clearing the air between the two of you. "Ahh, yes. Jacob is my first name, but professionally, I thought Oliver was a much better fit. Jacob Oliver Reed." He folds his hands on the desk in front of him.

You nod, pursing your lips and thinking. "Jacob, sorry, Professor-" he holds up a finger to stop you mid sentence.

"Y/n, I had an amazing night with you. Truly. Hell I would probably keep whatever this is...." he pauses, "-whatever this was going if you weren't a student. But for the sake of my job and professionalism, it cannot continue. I hope you understand that. I can assure you that you will be graded just as any of my other students. This won't affect you or your grade at all. But," he pauses, "you are more than welcome to call me Jacob outside of class. You did know me prior to this as Jacob." 

You feel hurt. You knew this was bound to happen. You honestly couldn't think that he would want to still see you after realizing you were his student, right?

"Thank you, for the reassurance. I didn't know. I wouldn't have- I don't normally-" you fumble over your words. You want to smack your forehead with how he already has you flustered.

His smile makes you huff out a nervous laugh. "Y/n, I didn't think you were that type either. It was....a night of revelry."

.....

After about an hour of discussion and airing it all out, you announce that you have to head to your next class. You both stand and he follows you to the door. He places a hand on the doorknob, but before you leave, he is grabbing the back of your neck, smashing his lips against yours. You moan into his mouth. Grabbing his velvety black jacket, you pull him into you, feeling his hard cock against his jeans. His firm hands grab your waist tightly. Your hands wander to his throbbing length and stroke it a few times over his jeans. A breathy moan flowing from his mouth.

He breaks away from the kiss. "Fuck, sorry, I just can't get enough of you, Y/n. You're going to be trouble. Gonna send me straight to Hell." You are both panting. You place one small kiss on his lips with a wicked smile before grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door open. Leaving him hot and bothered in his doorway.

"Thank you, Professor." You shoot him a wink and are out of his sight in a moment.

He shuts the door behind him and braces himself against the wall. Pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. Palming his hard cock through his jeans he grabs his phone out of his back pocket.

Jacob:

I just need to know if it's mutual.

You:

You can stop by tonight. Bring me dinner. And we can discuss more.

............

Author's note: this is exactly how I evision Professor Jake to look

............

Part 4

☆♡□ Message me to be added to the taglist: @vanfleeter @em-gvf01 @gvfpal @mama-likes72 @gvfmarge @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @lyndz2names @sanguinebats @ignite-my-fire @sparrowofrhiannon

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

How would the M6 react to MC being drunk in front of them for the first time? The kind of drunk that changes MC's demeanor, and now they're all giggly and reckless

The Arcana HCs: M6 reacting to a drunk MC

~ I love this request. Also I know some of you are going to read this and wonder what the M6 are like when they get drunk, which is why I'll be reblogging the original creator's response to that question right after I post this! Love you guys - brainrot ~

- to set the scene-

It has been a very, very long Friday and you have never been more ready for the weekend. Unfortunately, by the time you make it back to your living space, you find a little note from your beloved apologizing because they're going to be back later than expected. You sigh, drop your bag onto the table, kick off your shoes and lean back to relax. You had picked up some spiked lemonade on your way back to try with them, but you figure a glass ahead of time wouldn't be too bad. You take a sip and are immediately disappointed by how little alcohol you can taste.

Half an hour and two large glasses later you can feel your head beginning to swim. Surely you aren't drunk, that stuff has next to nothing in it - until you check the label attached to the back and your eyes grow wide at the numbers you read. Just as the humor sets in and you begin to giggle you hear the door open.

"MC? I'm sorry I'm late ..."

Julian

Did he expect to come home to a drunk and giggling MC? No. Is he mad about it? Also no

He can't help it, the first thing he's trying to do is evaluate you. How drunk are you? Will he also be having a few drinks tonight or is he going to be staying sober so you can let loose?

He watches as you follow Malak around the house, trying to mimic his hoarse cawing

Water it is

Come to think of it, this is a fantastic chance to display his theatrical talents. He's always had a knack for comedy

You make one of the best audiences he's had in years. Even the jokes he doesn't deliver as well as he wants to are met with uncontrollable laughter

Will absolutely act out a comedy sketch in one of his stolen wigs, the plot getting increasingly ridiculous as he gets swept away in the moment

Will die of shame the next morning when you start quoting his amphibian-inspired Romeo and Juliette improv around the house:

"Forgive me, father frog, I got the warts from the toad. But how was I to resist him? His croaking was so passionate -"

Asra

When they opened the door and heard your giggles they knew it was a good night

And then he rounded the corner and saw your flushed face and lidded eyes and dopey smile and knew that you were apparently having a really good night

They're just pulling out a chair to pour themselves a drink too when they feel a draft and look up in time to see you marching out the back door

Now he's giggling as he jogs to catch up with you, wondering where on earth drunk you has decided to go at this time of night

The docks, apparently. Their story about Faust in the palace garden maze has inspired you to try the same thing

In the middle of the night

While you are not as sober as you should be to practice life-preserving magic

The problem is that Asra is your best/worst enabler, so if trespassing on the ships to jump off of their masts is what you want to do, then that's what the two of you are doing

Three, if you count Faust

You are absolutely going to get nauseated from all the floating and puke all over him

They had it coming for enabling you, but what they didn't see coming was you pulling them into the ocean for an impromptu bath

Nadia

She's never seen you so drunk before, normally when you drink with her it's at big dinners so you don't even get tipsy

She's wavering on how to respond. Should she partake in whatever delightful brew you've apparently smuggled into the palace?

Or should she dedicate herself to taking care of you instead?

Oh but now you're giggling and collapsing into her lap, asking her about her day -

She's telling you about this one meeting with a certain courtier and now you're interrupting her, arms flung wide as you go on a drunken rant about them

Well. She knew you tended to filter your thoughts in the palace, but she had no idea your opinions were this colorful. Or hilariously stated

Now she's reaching for the bottle of spiked lemonade and pouring you another glass. What other amusing judgments have you been hiding?

Muriel

Will spend the evening taking the most excellent care of you while she prompts you for more rants

Here, lie down in her lap, drink some water, let her give you a massage, and tell her more about your thoughts on the chamberlain's most recent outfit decision, and how it resembled a stoned flamingo

Happy to hear that you're happy, but a little unsure of how to proceed

Were you planning on getting drunk? Did something happen to make you want to get drunk?

Oh, the lemonade was stronger than expected? Ok

Wait no stop trying to climb him. He's not a tree. You're going to bump your head

Oh, now you're wondering outside and loudly singing. And Inanna's going with you because she thinks it's hilarious

He's enjoying this uninhibited side of you but he's concerned for your safety

And for the safety of all the natural wildlife that may encounter you in this state

Wait no don't climb that tree

When did you get so good at climbing trees? He's never even seen you try by yourself before and now you're a good twenty feet up???

Does he climb up after you? How will he convince you to come back down?

"... MC? If you come down, I'll cuddle you."

A moment of silence. Did it work?

All he hears is a faint "catch meee ..." from high above his head before you come hurtling down through the branches

He doesn't know how he survived all the heart attacks you gave him that night

Portia

Immediately inspecting whatever it is that got you so happy. She wants in on your secrets

Spiked lemonade? From that market stall? Haha, no wonder you're plastered

She'll have a little bit, but what she really wants to know is if you'll hear out her crazy ideas for your magic abilities

"MC? Is it possible to do magic while you're drunk?"

She's met with a lopsided grin and an unsteady flash of the funniest looking sparkles she's ever seen

Were those supposed to be ... in the shape of Pepi? Or a sea monster?

Oh, this is going to be so much fun

Takes you out into the garden because she needs to know if Cinderella's pumpkin coach can actually happen (one of her guilty reading pleasures)

You come up with some abomination consisting of several squash, a whole mess of vines, and one terrified rat

The two of you end up going on a joyride through the fields behind the palace, lurching violently in all directions

There is now a rumor of the menacing giggling cryptid that wanders through the fields at dusk, scattering chunks of ravaged gourd

Lucio

Party time? Party time!!

Already loudly praising your drinking habits as he starts gulping straight from the bottle

Maybe he would savor it normally, but you started without him so now he needs to catch up

He makes the same mistake you did, of not reading the label and assuming it was weak, and the bottle is empty in minutes

"You know MC, I'm kinda surprised something that weak got you that smashed ohhhhh wait a minute -"

He just stood up and is now swaying in place, startled by the headrush

And then he hears you snorting with laughter at yourself as you try to tell the worst dad joke he's ever heard

Normally at this point he'd be caught up in the frenzy of an out of control party, what's he supposed to do when it's just the two of you?

Except you told the punchline first, and then the beginning, but now you're kind of backtracking through the middle, and you're breathless with giggles, and he's laughing too

That's it, that's how the rest of the night goes, ruining all of your favorite jokes and laughing until you're nauseated and his mascara is streaming down his cheeks

[ravenwriter16]

Creative Minds Think Alike

Episode One--Episode Two--Episode Three--Episode Four--Episode Five--Episode Six--Halloween Special pt. 1--Halloween Special pt. 2 (Here!)--Halloween Special pt. 3

Happy Halloween!

Come and join me on all the fun the castle is having with our annual Halloween Festival!

Enjoy! ~~~~~~

(POV: Written by @amymaleneart!)

The spooky atmosphere of the Halloween festival is almost intoxicating. Everywhere I look, I am just filled with giddiness seeing the wonderful decorations for all hallows eve. Something about the wonderful autumn colors, along with witchcraft purples and ebony blacks, fills me with such joy that it’s like drinking serotonin straight from the tap.

Hmmmmm…I wonder what that would taste like?

I turn back to the buffet table I have been painting all day to fee all the hungry ghouls and goblins. I open up my blackened hand, as dark as obsidian to reveal my yellow (my favorite color) paw pads that are adapted to my human-like hands. I concentrate and watch as my toe beans go through a rainbow of colors until each pad settles on the palette desire to create this new beverage.

I get to work dipping my claws to sketch out a new punch bowl in the shape of a pumpkin, with its top cut off that’s made out of iridescent crystal. I wait for my magic to solidify it into actual crystal from the wet paint it’s made from.

Next I create splashes of tints and hues of milky oranges and creams. As I watch the liquid fall into the punch bowl, I quickly draw up ice cubes of bats and eyeballs. Each newly formed hardened water plops into the refreshing beverage, quickly chilling the now completed masterpiece.

I reach over to one of the many paper cups to use to dip into the punch for a taste test.

“Color! Are you really going to use your dirty paws to get that drink?” cries my overly concerned golden friend. I roll my heterochromatic blue and green eyes. But he’s right, this would be a bit unsanitary. I swiftly draw up a punch spoon to match the bowl. With ease, I scoop up the attractive beverage to finally taste test one of my creations.

Placing the cup against my lips on my gray face, the citrusy sparking beverage of strawberries and peaches flow down my throat. The sensation of nostalgia, happiness and calm spreads out from my stomach to the rest of my furry body. My black with yellow tip fox hears wiggle in delight at these wonderful flavors.

I hear a deep gruff voice chuckling behind, causing me to look up at my other blue and grey friend. “If I was going to guess based on your reaction, that punch is very delicious,” says the cosmodian alien named Dr. Moontiedea Obquartz, Moon to his friends.

“Why of course it is!” shouts the other cosmodian alien known as Dr. Sunafetia Obquartz, otherwise known as Sun. “Color is the best chef in the entire galaxy. Even the best in this dimension.”

I watch in silence as the twin brothers talk, sipping my drink. I am so happy these two, as well as Captain Dawntitus Eclipseso, aka Eclipse to a very few, had agreed to help me out at the humongous buffet table. This isn’t the first time they have been outside of the canvas. But it always made them feel a little daunting to find out your characters in a story. Thankfully they quickly become okay as the memories from their previous visits return to them.

This is something that always occurs whenever they leave their world thanks to this castle’s magic. It helps keep the characters from losing their sanity thinking they are “not real” But they are always real to each other and that’s what matters.

I take a moment to admire the assortment of colorful dishes I spent all day painting. From snacks of ghost shaped crackers with cheese and meats to baked pizza balls in shapes of mini pumpkins and just about anything else you could imagine, I can create. There’s even a section for the guest that would have some dietary restrictions. And of course all the sweets you can eat.

Because I am not paying attention, I fail to notice that my cup in snatched from my hand by Moon.

“Moonie! That’s not very nice,” Sun yells at his brother. Moon chuckles in response like the gremlin that he is. After taking a sip from my cup, he hums in delight as he says, “This taste wonderful Color. I didn’t realize you put zofifinas in this punch.”

“Oooo, let me try.” Sun says excitedly as he takes my cup from Moon’s hands. I laugh noticing that Sun had indirectly stolen my cup too. He sips the drink and his six ears also wiggles in delight that they look like it’s spinning around his face. “This does taste amazing! But all I taste is the robingreengo.”

I giggle a little bit loudly, my voice sounding like windchimes. They both look at me with an inquisitive look. I settle down my laughter to hand sign to them, -That’s because the drink changes depending on who drinks it and what makes them happy. I call it my “happy juice”.-

“It’s definitely making me happy,” says Sun

“I got to say, it’s still weird seeing you with only two arms. Luckily the magic stones Miss Raven has provided translates you well enough,” Moon comments.

Yes, the magic does help with any translation of any language, real or made up. But I still have my own magic place on my y/n, Stardust. Even in a place like this, the language barrier between them and the aliens is still there. Not even another person can translate for Stardust when it comes to Sun, Moon and Eclipse. I even kept the illusion going by telling them people would be dressing up in many different costumes. And the biggest trend right now is to be dressed as a human that’s also wearing a costume.

I know I’m lying to them. I didn’t think it’s a good idea to completely ruin their reality.

Speaking of, where are Eclipse and Stardust?

I look around the ballroom at the many faces of character and creators. If we were back in my canvas, my aliens and I would be four times bigger than just about everyone here. But thankfully, I was able to shrink us down to be able to accommodate. Even though my aliens are still close to 7 feet tall. Thanks to that, I finally spot the dark calico cosmodian, Eclipse, as he is gathering the little children together for the next activity.

I couldn’t help but smile as I also spotted my harpy chicks, Sundrop and Moondrop, with their Caretaker y/n standing by.

I giggle at how adorable both little cuties are dressed up as little ravens, wearing a cape of black feathers and a mask with a protruding beak. Even y/n dressed up like a scarecrow holding a plastic jack-o-lantern filled with their treats. I almost suspect they got the idea for the costumes from our host. Especially after their last visit when they got the new plushies from her.

I had debated on what costume I could wear, but settled on an ornate witch’s hat with black feathers that shimmer and shine with hidden rainbows of colors. I do love colors after all. Besides, I’m always in disguise in my fae fox form. Otherwise I have my usual colorful overalls and long sleeved shirt.

The chicks have been having a wonderful time playing games and trying to eat as much gummy worms and sweets before it’s taken away to be saved for later. Sundrop’s very pale yellow eyes stare in wonder. at the decorations. While Moondrop rosy eyes stare hungrily at a particular plate of cricket cookies on my table.

Finally I spot Stardust talking with some other y/ns. Sun had changed the appearance of the suit to black with glowing neon spider webs for the festivities. It took a lot of convincing the three brothers to get them to let Stardust wander around freely. But even they deserve to have a good time. Besides, I reminded them that their wristlets can track their movement.

I wonder when Raven would be stopping by? I got something special I wanted to give her.

Speaking of the devil, Raven quickly runs over to the buffet, tackling me in a tight hug before pulling back, “Good evening! Your costume looks amazing!”

I laugh at the archivist’s antics, returning the passionate hug with a happy wag of my yellow-tipped black tail. I pull away so I can sign, - All I did was wear a hat. Nothing special. –

Raven steps back and crosses her arms while leaning forward a bit, “It’s a very COOL hat!”

She laughs before scanning the options at the buffet table.

- Well, what do you think? I hope I made enough food to last the evening. –

“It all looks delicious.” She praises while picking up a ghost cracker. She takes a small bite and her face lights up. “And tastes delicious as well.”

She looks around once more, spotting Dr. Sun and Dr. Moon as they talk around the punch bowl. “Glad to see those two again. Especially after peeling all those potatoes…”

- Well, you should have thought of that before picking a fight with Roxanne in front of the captain. It was almost like you wanted to get punished with kitchen duties.- I tease Raven.

“Hey!” Raven meant to be stubborn but I’m guessing my happy energy overwhelms that and she ends up laughing with a small snort. “How is the Private by the way? Not causing you any trouble I hope.” She asks while picking up another treat. Her feathers bristle in delight when she tries it.

But before I could answer her, a little silver fluffy troublemaker of a chick yanks on her wing as he demands attention.

She grunts in pain, dropping her unfinished treat. Raven looks down at her feet, smiling at the small harpy. Eyes widen as she takes in his costume. She crouches down and ruffles his head feathers, “Such a cutie~! You make a wonderful raven Moon.”

She gets completely ignored as he snatches the cricket cookie off the ground to consume. Yet he purrs at the complement and allows pets.

“Moondrop!” cries y/n, causing the mischievous bird to flinch. “What did I tell you about stealing?” We all look up to see zir running over with Sundrop trailing behind them. Ze quickly scoops up Moondrop, who has already finished eating his prize. “I’m so sort about that Raven. You’re not hurt are you?”

She tilts her head and smiles at zir. “I’m alright. Don’t worry.” She gives Moon a long look before scooping him up into her arms in a flash. She spins him around making zooming noises before setting him back down on the ground, laughing. “Sorry Moonie. You just remind me too much of my little brother.”

The dizzy chick giggles because he found it to be more fun than he thought. But then Sundrop starts screeching, “ME NEXT! ME NEXT!!” The jealous yellow chick jumps up and down, flapping his yellow wings, causing a few black feathers to fall off.

Raven chuckle, giving both me and y/n a “what can you do” look. She crouches down and holds her arms out to the yellow harpy, who almost knocks her over when he runs into her embrace.

Raven steadies herself and lifts the chick high in the air. Making high trills as she spins him around. After setting him down, her hands over around him as he stumbles a bit.

Both chicks giggle with such glee it’s as sweet as the sugared confectionaries on my buffet tables. I reach into a big cauldron pot full of candy and pull out two lollipops of colorful swirls, that’s as big as their heads. The harpy chicks’ eyes grow so large they might pop out of their feather heads. As quick as lightning, the both snatch their treasure and run towards the closest hay bales, with their Caretaker running after them.

I tap Raven on her shoulder to get her attention. -So that’s a great trick from my little Moondrop. Now it’s time for your treat.-

Raven raises a brow, tilting her head in question, “My treat?”

A wicked smile growing on my face that matches perfectly with my witch’s hat. I turn and whistle to my aliens to get their attention. Sun’s six ears shoots up in the air and asks, “Oh! Do you need it now?”

I nod yes.

Dr. Sun smiles as he ducks down under the table and pulls out a covered pie carried basket made out of willow wicker, walnut wooden lid and black leather straps. I sign, -Thank you,- as I take it from him, being careful not to drop it. I turn to Raven and present the basket to her.

Raven takes a step back after seeing my smile. She laughs nervously, her feathers puffing up, "Color...What are you up to?"

I cock my head and wait patiently for the nervous archivist to take the basket.

Raven sighs and reaches out, taking the offered item. She gently lifts the top of the basket open to see what was inside.

A waft of spices and steam escapes from the basket to reveal the silky smooth mashed potatoes of a familiar emerald green color. There is a silhouette of a raven bird made from blackened chickpeas, on top of my alien version of a shepherd’s pie.

-Since you were so helpful in the Kitchen, I made this pie just for you.-

Raven blinks a few times, mouth hanging open in shock. She tries to form words but the amazing aroma of the pie leaves her speechless. So instead she holds the basket up with one hand and uses her other to tightly hug me. Her wings beat happily behind her, accidentally hitting a poor staff bot.

I hug her right back with my own tail swish back and forth to end up knocking another staff bot to the ground.

I can hear Dr. Moon laughing behind us. “You all better be careful and stay clear of the danger zone.”

I lean back and sign, -Glad you’re not sick of space potatoes.- “Not when they’re in the form of such a delicious looking pie.” Raven muses, putting a hand on her hip. “Makes peeling all those blasted things worth it.”

I shake my head at how silly she can get. But I’m glad she’s out archivist and not the some stuck up snob.

I got her a cup of happy juice, which gladly took from me. -Just be certain to take a moments and actually eat it. We don’t want you to end up with an upset stomach because of all the sweets.-

“Don’t worry,” Sun chimes in, “Moonie and I made sure to bring plenty of bismuth subsalicylate just in case. As well as any medical equipment for an emergency. Just send them to us and we’ll take care of them.”

I snap my fingers as I recall something I was asked to tell Raven. -Captain Eclipse wanted me to remind you that if you need his help with organizing defenses against the trolls, all you have to do is call for him. He has experiences handing such “characters” and knows how to handle.-

Raven’s shoulders drop more as she breathes out a sigh of relief and gratitude. “That would be wonderful. Please give him my thanks.”

I didn’t realize how tensed up she was until she made that sigh. I tilt my head as I feel a little bit concerned for my friend. -Are you okay? Is there something the matter?-

Raven moves the basket’s handle to the crook of her arm to gesture with her hands as she explains. “I’ve been getting reports of suspicious activities going on around the Castle. And our security is already stretched as thin as it is with the recent council’s inspection.” Raven shakes her head and smiles once more, “So I’m very happy that Eclipse will help with guarding the castle.”

I take a moment to think before I open up my paw again to activate my magic. Quickly in the air, I paint up a little whistle that looks like a phoenix. I hand it to Raven signing, -You can blow this anywhere on the castle grounds and Eclipse will hear it. It will also send up a warning flair to your location.-

Raven tales the whistle, eyes starting to well up. She holds the whistle close to her chest and bows, wings spreading out along the ground as she does so. “THANK YOU SO MUCH!”

My ears flinch at the very loud sound, although I make sure to keep a smile on my face. -Easy there with the volume. I can be considered a mute, but I’m not deaf.- I laugh with my joyous sounds as I give her one final hug. -Now you need to get going so you can eat that before it gets cold.-

Raven blushes from embarrassment and nods her head, thanking me one last time before saying goodbye. She goes to leave but then turns around and snatches a few treats from the buffet table. She put them in the small free space in the basket then heads on her merry way, waving over her shoulder.

“Color! We need some more mummy jalapeno poppers. Moonie ate the whole plate!” Sun tattled on her brother.

“Hey, you ate some of it too!” he growls back.

I just shake my head at the two. Oh well, I suppose a creator’s work is never done.

(POV: Written by @amarynthian-chronicles)

Raven walks down the path, taking in the many Residents enjoying the festivities. She had a simple masquerade make covering her eyes and a black cloak over her shoulders. She has yet to notice the group of people walking towards her.

Playful shadows began to dance along the walls and the floors, as if completely holding a mind of their own, and soon the cackles of twin vampiric aristocrats were heard. Marquis Moon and Viscount Sun were about to enact their silly pranks on dear Raven, but a stern voice stopped them. “Behave, boys, you know the rules. Hello, hello, Raven, how are you?”

Raven turns her head, smiling as she takes in her dear friend. “Good evening Lady Amary! How are you this Halloween night?”

A soft smile grace’s Amary’s features as she conjures a little basket full of sweets and gifts for her friend, “The boys and I are making sure that the entire castle area is secure and we are having lots of fun while doing so! We did catch a few wayward monsters trying to sneak in, but I bribed them with treats to obey.”

“Bribe? Or lure in so that the Viscount and the Marquis can play tricks on them?” Raven asks with a mischievous smirk and a small tilt of her head.

Amary giggled, “Well, the boys do need some playmates for enrichment, and it is better for them to mess around with demons and monsters than with our esteemed guests here, correct? Besides, it is fun hearing them bicker. Sun keeps giving the monsters unsolvable riddles and Moon is trying to trick them into soul contracts. Dear Eclipse is oddly calm, I wonder if he is secretly listening to us.” Amary looked at the shadow on the wall.

Raven shivers at the thought of the grand duke, eyes darting to every shadow that jumps out at her. Black feathers bristling from anticipation.

The shadows on the wall were deceptively calm and almost mocking as they tried to create a false idea of safety. Amary raised an eyebrow, before looking over at the jewels in the nearby decorations, as well as many metallic objects. “His eyes are everywhere where precious stones and metal resides.”

Raven shudders before snapping her head to one gem in particular. She grumbles then snaps her fingers, purple mana glowing from her hand. She grumbles harder when the gem dims a bit and a cold presences takes its place behind her, much like a grim reaper.

A dark cloak threatens to engulf her, almost as if making a parody of a comforting embrace, golden eyes glowing as the grim aristocrat spoke, “Greetings, dear one, I heard that you have been curious as to my whereabouts. Have I satisfied your curiosity now? I should be compensated for such a service with a dance.” Amary cleared her throat and reprimanded him, “Clipsy knock it off, you are scaring her. Don’t make me take your Wi-Fi again.”

Raven snorts and looks over her shoulder at Eclipse with a raised brow, “You have Wi-Fi? Old man?”

The Grand Duke made a slight grumble a cranky purr, huffing “I do prefer to watch certain documentaries on that “inter webs” you children use nowadays.”

“Pfft! ‘Inter webs’?” Raven covers her mouth as she shakes from restrained laughter. Her wings flapping in amusement. She looks at Amary with an expression that says, “I’m sorry but I can’t help it”.

Amary giggled as well “Isn’t he adorable? You should have seen him when he was trying to write something on the phone, his claws were so hard to type with and he kept poking the phone!”

Raven snorts again hearing the duke harrumph behind her. She clears her throat, trying to act serious. But it was like trying to keep a wave upon the sand. “I’m sorry, my lord.” She bows to Eclipse, snicking.

Eclipse merely smiled, conjuring a beautiful dark spinel gem, “Amuse yourself all you wish, the sweetest laugh is the last one. I am still hoping you would one day accept my offer and bear this jewel I give to you. Immortality awaits you, little bird.” Amary cleared her throat, “Clipsy, could you give me the security report while you are already trying to entrap poor dear Raven?” Eclipse made a slight grumble, “The perimeter of the castle is secure, although I did sense some dark energies from the Purple Threat. My shields will hold him.”

Raven sighs and rubs her temple, “Those freaks have been trying to breach the defenses for a while…thank you duke for capturing one!” Then she crosses her arms while looking at his offered gem, “and I would rather share a dance with the viscount and marquis than become your slave.”

As soon as she said that, a playful cackle came from a nearby painting, as Viscount Sun came out of it as if it were its own living dimension “truly? Did I hear that correctly?” A nearby shadow began morphed into an orchestra of darkness, Marquis Moon appearing as the musical maestro. “We do accept the dancing offer. No take-backsies, little bird.” The twins were quite silly. Amary reached for a glass of wine to sip on “It is fascinating how my boys manage to both handle such complex security while trying to seduce people.”

Raven rolls her eyes playfully, “I’ll say…I think it was last week when I was working on preparations for the festival when a certain marquis thought it’d be funny to dump a bucket of paint on me.” Raven puts her hands on her hips, “Any of this ringing a bell Moon?”

Fittingly, Moon conjured a pretty little golden bell and began to ring it “Gracious goodness, it does seem to ring one! Do pardon my mischief, it was all to bring laughter, nightingale.”

Raven covers her mouth as she snorts, amused by Moon’s antics. She turns to face Amarynthia once more, “I do hope you’ve been enjoying the festivities and not only patrolling the area.”

Amary reached at the nearby tray of food and took a cupcake, “indeed! I love the entirety of the decorations and the happy vibes that are gathered in these halls tonight. Not to mention that Moonie here will be bringing his spooky band later to play some symphonies.”

Raven nods her head, smiling at Moon before giving him a small bow, “I look forward to your performance!”

The Archivist straightens up, the feathers on her wings shifting with the occasional breeze. One of her raven familiars flies down in front of Amary as Ravenwriter reaches into her cloak. “I got you something actually…” With a shout of joy, Raven pulls out a small box with small leaping cats carved into the wood, “This is one of those…uhm Special items you’ve been looking for! I hope you will find them useful!” The actual raven on the ground lets out an affirmative caw.

Amary makes a happy noise as she accepts the gift, “Thank you so much, my dear Raven! I have some treats for you, as well!” She waves her hand and suddenly a large red box appears. She opened it, revealing magnificent chocolates, “All for you!”

“Oh my goodness!” Raven squeals, taking the offered box of goodies. “These look amazing! And the designs are adorable.” Each chocolate piece was shaped either as a sun, or crescent moon…and there were a few cat themed ones as well.

Amary smiled and squeaked with joy, “I am glad you like them, Raven! Anything for our Archivist, you deserve the best with all the hard work you do for our castle. I see so many lovely guests have gathered.”

Raven beams, looking out fondly at the crowd of creators enjoying the festivities. Some even choose to bring their families, friends, and partners.  It was a night of joy.

“Indeed. I’m so honored to have so many residents under my protection. And I’m thankful for all they do to help out.” Raven turns and looks at Amary, “Thank you.”

Amary conjured a cute pair of Sun and Moon plushies, “Before you go, take these, for protection! They are very powerful!”

Raen chuckles, “Do you mean actual power, or just their adorableness?” Both plushies were soft to the touch and incredibly cute. Raven thinks back to her littlest sibling as she looks at the toys.

Amary giggled, “a little bit of both! The more you love them, the more power they gain as shields and good luck charms!”

Raven smiles, “In that case, prepare to be the smothered in an avalanche of affection you humble plushies!” She laughs and places the dolls and chocolates in her basket. Then she looks back up at the vampires behind Amary. “I’m afraid I have more duties to attend to, my lords. That dance will have to wait.”

The three vampires made rather adorable disappointed noises and pouts as if they were spoiled puppies. Sun and Moon in particular, “We shall be waiting nevertheless! An eternity if we must!” The Grand Duke was about to say something, but a stern glance from Amary made him remain quiet. He knew he had to be a good boy now.

“Well, I’ll let you continue keeping all of us safe.” Raven smiles, “once you’re done with your patrol, why don’t we hang out with the others for the rest of the festivities?”

The vampire twins perk up in joy at hearing that, “does that mean you shall dance with us, precious Archivist?” Once more, Eclipse too was about to say something, but he comically elbow nudged by Amary, losing his breath. Amary happily spoke “of course! It would be my pleasure!”

Raven chuckles before giving one last bow to the creator and her vampire guards. She then heads on her ways, wings shifting to better accommodate to her steps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thank you @amymaleneart and @amarynthian-chronicles for your amazing writing! It was a blast and honor to work with you both again!

If you guys don't know who these creators and their AUs? GO check them out! That was the end of pt. 2! Head here for pt. 3