#like that is the sort of thing i would entirely make up if i needed everyone at the table to fuckin hate an npc

[artdcnaldson]

Ok so hear me out. I need you to write an au about virgin reader and art having sex for the first time while patrick watches (like the perv he is!) I imagine that it would probably take place during the hotel makeout scene or in art’s dorm room😄

all three of you are on the same freakuency..... sweet art's first time, he just needs some moral support, that's all!

And maybe you've been hooking up with Patrick on the side and he very selflessly asked if you'll pop Art's cherry. Not like you're in his lap with his dick in your hand, the words were mumbled clumsily against your lips.

"I just think..." You interrupt him with a clumsy kiss, which he pulls back from reluctantly. "It would be nice. He's going to college in the fall and— fuck, yeah, like that— it'd be nice to get him nice and deflowered before he's surrounded by all that pussy without any clue of what to do."

"Gross. Are you seriously trying to pimp me out?" You ask with a tiny grin, not entirely disgusted by anything more than Patrick’s casual misogyny. Your hand continues its slick glide up and down his cock. Patrick just grins at you, like that's answer enough. "You're an idiot."

Whatever. Idiot or not, you still fuck Patrick. Idiot or not, you agree to deflower Art Donaldson.

And Art's cute, in a boyish, sort of way. He's sweet, well intentioned. When you come onto him at the MRTA graduation, he's all wide-eyed and nervous. Aren't you seeing Patrick? Are you sure Patrick won't get mad?

"I’m not Patrick’s girlfriend. And besides, he wants me to," you tell him, and his fears melt away like cotton candy. Now that you've eased his mind, it's so easy to get him back to his dorm room. It’s so sweet, how he’s already hard in his jeans from a little kissing and the promise of something more. His eagerness just proves that Patrick was right— this really was the best gift he could give Art for graduation.

If it were up to you, it would’ve happened in your own dorm, but Patrick insisted that it had to happen in their dorm. So instead of soft sheets and tasteful decorations and scented candles, Art gets scratchy blankets and the smell of cigarette smoke and empty Gatorade bottles.

He swallows when he sees Patrick waiting on the bed. It all feels like a virginity-intervention. Still... Art sits on his side of the bed, knees touching Patrick's, and looks between the two of you, hackles up, backing into a defensive state.

"You're both making fun of me," he mutters, and there’s an angry twitch in his jaw, that thinly veiled restraint that you notice and file away for later. "This is a big joke, right? Patrick, you fucking asshole."

"I'm not making fun of you, Art," you assure, moving to sit in front of him, hands on his knees. It forces his pretty blue eyes to land firmly on you. "I just want to help. It'll be nice to get it done, won't it? Patrick and I can help you."

He huffs, glancing between the two of you again. "He's staying?" Patrick grins and nods. Of course he is. He'd been there for the start of Art's sexual awakening, no way he'd miss this too.

"Yeah, to give you some advice, baby," you say with a little smile. You move into his lap, mouthing at his jaw. He sighs a little, tilting his head to the side so your lips can move to suck on his pulse point. You smile against his throat, teeth grazing the sensitive spot there, and he whines. "That's it, just let us take care of you."

You just kiss him for a while— licking into his mouth, letting him taste and explore however he wants. His hands slip under your top, squeezing your tits while he moans into your mouth something incoherent about how soft, warm, perfect they are.

It's like he's drunk on it— painfully hard beneath you, whining at every little touch. When you peel off his pristine blue button up and run your thumbs over his nipples, he keens and mewls like it's the best thing he's ever felt. Fuck, maybe it is.

"You can't suck him off," Patrick says when you go to unbutton his pants. "He'll cum before he can even fuck you."

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art mutters, shooting Patrick a glare that's about as deadly as he can manage with kiss swollen lips and mussed golden curls and ruddy cheeks. Like an angry little cherub. “I won’t… I’m not gonna cum if you touch me. I have gotten head before, and handjobs, and stuff.”

His hips buck mindlessly, seeking friction as you work the button and fly of his jeans. You smile as you rub over the bulge in the denim with your free hand, feeling the hard length of him. It makes him throw his head back and moan. “Yeah? But maybe Patrick’s right,” you murmur, lips trailing over his jaw. “Might be too much for you, baby. If we get you too worked up I don’t know if you’ll last when you’re inside of me.”

He whines. Really whines. It has to be one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. “It’s not that I can’t, just… maybe I’m impatient.” You and Patrick share a look and grin. Sure. Impatient.

“I know you are,” you tell him, lips twitching as you fight an amused grin. “Just get me ready for you. You know how to do that?”

Patrick shakes his head behind Art, but you get the impression that maybe Art knows more than Patrick is willing to give him credit for. His hand slips under your dress, rubbing you through the cheap lace thong you’d bought at Wet Seal. Your eyes flutter shut as you gasp softly— his thumb rubs against your clit, but his eyes are locked on your every reaction.

“That’s good?” He murmurs softly. His index finger teases over your dripping entrance, barely concealed by hot pink lace. “It is, isn’t it? You’re so wet,” The words escape him mindlessly, like he’s accidentally verbalizing his thoughts. His cheeks go red and Patrick smiles like this is the proudest he’s ever been.

The tips of his fingers catch on the wet fabric and tug it to the side, just enough that his fingers can tease over your dripping pussy. His thumb maintains its pressure on your clit as he sinks his middle finger inside you to his second knuckle. A soft puff of breath like a gasp slips past his lips as he feels your walls squeezing around him.

“He’s really good,” you gasp out, looking at Patrick over Art’s shoulder as he stretches you on his fingers. Patrick’s big hand splays over his lap, squeezing at the hard length of his cock in his jeans as he watches. “Better than you, maybe.” Patrick laughs softly, rolling his eyes as he leans back against the headboard.

Art likes the praise, you know he does because his lips twitch into a cocky smirk as he sinks a second finger alongside the first, curling them until his fingertips press against a sensitive spot that makes stars dance across your vision. He knows what he’s doing, of course he does, he’s driven by the need to be praised and desired. The silent, unspoken competition in his mind against Patrick driving him to do anything he can to keep you pleased and happy.

Each pretty moan and gasp from your lips is lapped up like the sweetest honey. He nuzzles against your jaw as he fucks you with thick fingers, like your body is a pretty little piece of equipment he’s been trained to perfectly use. He moans against your skin when you come, cunt fluttering and squeezing around his fingers, like he’s feeling it every bit as much as you are.

You’ve forgotten to spare a glance at Patrick— it’s too easy to get lost in the ways that Art can play with your body. His jeans are tugged down just enough for him to free himself— and his hand works over the length of his cock as he pumps his fist in time with Art’s fingers. You squeeze Art’s arm once, twice, to get him to stop and he obeys, withdrawing fingers slick with your juices and licking them off like you’re his favorite meal.

“Are you sure he’s a virgin?” You murmur as you push Art back against the sheets, his pretty golden curls fanned out against his pillow like a halo.

Patrick nods, watching hungrily as you undress the pretty boy beneath you. His fancy dress shoes and socks, his jeans and button down, then his boxers. Until Art’s naked and flushed pink beneath you, drooling precum onto his tummy as his cock jerks with weak little pulses. When he looks at you, his pupils are so dilated they swallow up the pretty blue. He’s so pretty and debauched it makes you feel a little dizzy.

You slip off your dress, then your panties, and watch the bob of his Adam’s apple in his throat as he looks at you. “Are you okay with me on top?” You ask as you straddle his hips. You’re so close that he can feel the heat emanating from your body, from your cunt.

He swallows again, glancing over at Patrick like he’s asking for permission. “She’s good at it,” Patrick tells him. “You can just lay back and let her do all the work.“

You’d tell Patrick not to be a dick, but, well, he’s kind of right. You don’t expect Art to do anything— it’s his first time. But Patrick fucking loves laying back and making you work for it, like you’d have to earn the right to come. Art’s not that kind of guy— at least, not yet. But you can sense that smug confidence beneath the surface, lying dormant.

You reach down and take his cock into your hand, flushed red and slick with precum. You give an experimental pump in your hand and watch as more dribbles out. Needy boy. You sit up, lining him up with your entrance when he grabs your thigh. “Wait, don’t I need a condom?”

Patrick reaches into the bedside drawer, but you just shake your head. “It’s fine,” you tell him, teasing his tip through your folds, getting him even wetter. “I’m on the pill, and I know you’re clean. You can cum in me.”

As soon as the words slip past your lips, he squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain. You can feel his cock pulsing in your grasp and you have to bite back an amused grin. “Hold on, wait—“ he gasps out, gripping your hips like a vise, dimpling the plush skin there. “Don’t do it yet, just… give me a second. Just a second.”

It’s a pretty sight— his full lips parted as he pants softly, the little furrow in his brow where his eyes pinch shut. He takes one deep breath, then another, and nods. “Okay,” he pants. “Okay, I’m ready.���

You have to go slow so you don’t overwhelm him, sinking down inch by inch by inch. He groans, head tiling back against the pillows, the fine muscles of his neck taut. His hands grasp onto your hips, squeezing tight like it might ground him in reality, like it’s keeping him from slipping into a dizzy, mindless euphoria.

When you’re finally flush against him, he takes a shaky breath and opens his eyes to look at you. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he gasps. “And you feel— oh, god— you’re so warm, and wet, and you’re so fucking tight.”

Patrick moans at the sight of Art falling apart beneath you, hand squeezing around his cock as he pumps his length. The sight makes heat bloom in your tummy, and you feel yourself squeezing around Art’s cock. He whines, panting out hot puffs of breath.

It’s easy to forget how strong he is when he’s beneath you like this. But he grips your hips and pulls you forward, encouraging you to glide along his cock. “Please,” he says weakly, looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes. “I can take it.”

“He can take it,” Patrick echoes with a grin. There’s something about the thinly veiled amusement in his eyes that tells you he wants you to unmake Art entirely— to take the sweet, needy boy and make him something unrecognizable. Something primal, something pathetic. “C’mon, look at him. He’s a big boy, he can handle it.”

You begin to move, palms splayed against his chest as you rock your hips, nice and slow. He groans, head tipping back, eyes rolling so you can see the whites of them.

"You feel so good, Art," you gasp as you begin to move a little faster. He whines, eyes locked on the sight of your tits bouncing as you ride his cock. "So perfect."

Art wants more. He inches his hands a little higher, so his fingertips brush against your breasts, almost nervous to just grab. Patrick scoffs. "Just grab her tits, Art— Jesus— she likes it."

And he does. Big, rough hands gripping your tits, squeezing as you ride him. He bucks his hips up, seeking the tight warmth of your cunt as you move, just wanting to hold you down and stay buried there.

"Move faster," Patrick says. You can hear from the gravel in his voice, that tiny hint of whininess, that he's getting close. Of course Patrick wouldn't want to finish first and have to sit there watching Art have all the fun.

And, technically, Patrick is your boyfriend (or, at least, you think he is, and Art thinks he is, and Patrick... is a mystery), so you decide to indulge in his request.

"Wait—" Art pants, hands flying down to your hips as you ride him harder. "Oh, fuck— wait, wait— you're gonna— nghh, god—" He squeezes his eyes shut, chest heaving as you bounce on his cock. He squeezes, fingers dimpling the plush fat of your ass as he tries to slow you down, or maybe just hold on for some sense of grounding as you bring him closer and closer to a sweet release.

"C'mon, Art," you gasp, nails digging into his pale pecs. "C'mon, we want you to cum, baby."

He tries to hold out. He really does, but you want him to cum, you're asking for it. You and Patrick. He cries out, bucking up into your cunt as he finishes, pumping a warm load inside of you. He whines, eyes fluttering as his cock twitches, dribbling out his last drops of cum.

Patrick's chest is splattered with his own release, drying messily in his chest hair, Art Donaldson is beneath you— sated and deflowered. You glance over at Patrick while Art's eyes are still squeezed shut and make a face that says I didn't even cum. You owe me.

He just grins and nods, like it's a given that he'd get you off after. But honestly, you figure it's 50-50 that he'll follow through. Maybe you can just ask Art.

[bratbarzal]

How do you think Poppy and Luke's gf get along/hit it off when they first meet? Like what are the vibes, is it at a game? I'm assuming it would be after Cheeto is born?

written as a follow up to LIH and TSOU and including characters from OYS (none of which have to be read to enjoy this hopefully lmao) this is such a niche blurb but it's really sweet!! trust Luke to mess up the ending of tsou by getting surgery 😔😔 no more reader jumping into his arms 😔😔 let's pretend he catches her on one side so I don't have to think too much about it thanks 💕 also this ties into another blurb I have planned for their first date lmao but that will hopefully be done by the end of the month!! contains: fluff!!! in abundance!!! wc: 2.8k

"You know you're gonna have to let me get up at some point, right?"

You feel the vibrations of his words against your cheek before you fully register what Luke is saying, his neck warm against your temple as you rest against it, your body slung over his just enough that you're not crushing him.

"Don't have to do anything," you hum in defiance, lips moving against his skin as you hook your leg over his from above the sheets so he has no actual leverage to move away - like he would in the first place - and stretching your arm across the width of him, your fingertips tracing featherlight touches along his collarbone - careful to avoid his bad shoulder - until the arm on the side you're resting on curls as much as it can around your hip. "You're not the boss of me."

He snorts out a laugh that makes your chest feel tight, and you suppose he sees the irony in that statement just as much as you do - considering how you'd only just promised him when you'd both set off from Detroit yesterday that you'd be happy to play nurse for as long as he needs.

For as shitty as the timing of Luke's injury has been - missing out on the rest of the playoffs, and subsequently ruling himself out to play in the world championships - you've been reaping the benefits of the whole thing, entirely.

He'd somehow managed to schedule his surgery so that he could surprise you at your commencement - lying that he hadn't been fit to be discharged yet and showing up alongside Jack as you waited with Ellie for her to be able to see her boyfriend while you worried endlessly about your own.

And the two of you had disappeared together after the ceremony, spending the whole weekend holed up in your room at the sorority before you would have to clear it out. He had attempted to help you pack up the few things that remained, and had come with you to move what you couldn't ship home to your mom's place into storage with the promise that he'd help you sort through it when you came back in the summer to the lake house.

He hadn't been the best assistant, his arm all slinged up, and all, but you still liked having him around - even if it was just to be a pretty face and a warm body to cuddle into at the end of the day, too exhausted to do much else.

And then you flew out to Jersey with him to clear out his locker at the Rock away from the whole media circus, spending the week in his apartment with him while he dealt with some other business. It had never been the plan to come out here - but you wouldn't trade this time with him for anything.

The latter end of the season had been hectic for Luke, and you wrapping up with school had been just as bad - and finding time to fit in the tribulations of a new, long distance relationship was hard work, but the two of you got through everything, the worst of it behind you entirely.

And you've been enjoying playing house with him, away from everybody else - it's the first time you've really gotten the chance.

Ellie and Jack are back in Michigan, and Quinn left to go back at the same time Jack did. His parents are there, too - and your mom is where she always is, back in Chicago.

No sorority sisters, none of Luke's friends or his teammates, who have all dispersed back to their home states or countries.

It's just the two of you, and no responsibilities, and it's been incredible, even if it has only been a day, so far.

"We should probably get up and do something," he hums, "Feel like all I've done for the past week is sit around and watch you."

"Like that isn't your favourite thing to do," you scoff, leaning up and pressing your lips to his jaw, planting a soft kiss to the scratchy skin there and making a mental note to convince him to shave, later - maybe even offer to do it for him. Clinging on to the 6 hairs that remain from his attempt at a playoff beard is getting a little sad, unfortunately.

"You got me there," he smiles softly, and you kiss the curve of his lips, too, too pretty not to. "We could go watch a movie?" he mumbles against you, "Maybe grab food after,"

"Mmhm," you respond, too into kissing him over and over, the soft bump of his nose against yours the only thing to get you to part.

"There's a viewing for Thunderbolts in like an hour," he tells you, and you roll your eyes while biting back a laugh.

"I was ten seconds from climbing on top of you, and the only thing on your mind is showing times for Thunderbolts?"

"I can only avoid spoilers for so long, babe." He pouts, and you huff as you roll off of him.

"Such a dork," you mutter fondly to yourself as you push yourself off of the bed and watch his eyes trail down your figure as you stand. "I need to go get my bag out of the car," you tell him as you reach for the hoodie you had helped him shrug out of last night, and the shorts he'd fumbled you out of with just one hand. "Do you want me to make you something to eat when I come back up?"

"I doubt Jack left anything in the refrigerator while he was here," he grumbles, eyes still on you as you bring his hoodie down over your body and jump into your shorts, "I'll shower while you're downstairs and try get ready quick enough that we can stop for breakfast, yeah?"

"Okay," you lean back over to kiss him, "Please be careful in there, I don't want a lecture off of your brother for not taking care of your properly."

"Damn," he smirks, "I was gonna try and fake another injury so that you'd have to jump in with me to supervise next time."

"You just have to ask, idiot, don't hurt yourself on my account."

You part with one more kiss before you're making your way through his apartment, picking up your shoes on the way and grabbing his keys from where he'd left them on the hook by the door.

The two of you had been in such a rush to get up to the apartment the night before that you'd left your bags in the trunk of his car - the car he'd actually let you drive from the airport, despite the fact he'd once told you that you drive like a maniac and he'd never trust you behind the wheel again - and you're grateful that Luke didn't bring a bag himself or you'd have to haul them up on your own.

Getting your bag from the car back to the elevator is hard enough work - overpacking to the point of ruin, as always - and when you're finally inside and stretching out the muscles in your back, you hear the faint call of, hold the door, from around the corner.

Your hand shoots out before the doors can close, palm pressed to where they disappear, and then you're face to face with another girl - hair astray, chest heaving to try and gain her breath back, and the cutest baby you've ever seen attached at her hip.

"You're a lifesaver," she huffs as she steps in, leaning back against the far wall of the elevator as the doors start to close again, "I mean these things are quick, but if I don't get a snack in her hands in the next two minutes, this whole building is gonna know about it."

You chuckle, slightly tranced by the way the baby girl is staring at you - brown eyes wide and soft pink lips turned up in what you hope is a smile.

You reach into the front pocket of Luke's hoodie, and of course there's a pack of cookies in there, unopened from your flight yesterday. "Here," you smile, reaching out to the girl in front of you with them in your hand. "They're oatmeal cookies, I'm pretty sure. My boyfriend can't go anywhere without a snack either, but he's a grown man," you scoff, "Nowhere near as cute."

"You really are a lifesaver," she accepts the packet with a grateful smile, tearing them open, breaking one in half and handing it straight to the little girl, who brings them up to her mouth with zero hesitation. "I'm Poppy," her hand extends back out to yours, "And this is Lina."

You tell her your name while you shake her hand, and there's a flash of recognition as you say it, her eyes darting past you to check the buttons on the wall of the elevator.

"You're Luke's girlfriend!"

"How did you know that?"

"My partner is one of Luke's teammates, Nico." She smiles, "You made Mitchie!"

"Mitchie?" You frown, and she twists her hip until the diaper bag slung across her body comes into view, a familiar crochet giraffe slotted into the side pocket.

"We don't go anywhere without Mitchie."

A slow grin creeps onto your face as you look back at the baby clinging onto Poppy's side - dark eyes, soft brown hair, dimpled cheeks, just like Luke's team captain. The captain whose baby shower he had been trying to find a gift for all of last summer.

You've heard little pieces here and there about Poppy and Lina. Random little stories from Luke, a recollection of a brief encounter with Ellie, but you hadn't expected to meet her yourself in the middle of the building elevator without Luke around.

"I didn't realise you guys were back, I would have come to introduce myself, Luke's been telling us about you all year, hasn't he, bug?"

You feel the warmth seep up into your cheeks at that fact - the two of you technically only being together for the last 6 weeks or so.

"We got in last night," you tell her, only realising the elevator has come to a stop when it's on your floor, and the doors start to open. "He's inside if you want to come and say hi?"

"Are you sure?" Poppy asks, "I can always drop by later, or something?"

"No, it's fine, he's going a little stir crazy to be honest, might be good to see a familiar face that isn't mine."

"I get that," Poppy snorts as she follows you out of the elevator, Lina still happy as a clam on her hip with her gums wrapped around the cookie, soft little lip smacking sounds and hums coming from her direction. "Nico left a couple days ago and we've been walking circles around the local park just to stay busy. Everybody just disappears this time of the year."

"At least the weather's nice," you chuckle, unlocking the door and letting the two of them in before you close it again - relief flooding you at the fact that Jack had blitzed the whole place clean before he left last week. "We're around all week if you need us for anything."

"I see why the kid's so in love with you," Poppy grins, switching her daughter to the other side of her hip and pressing a kiss to her temple. "We might just take you up on that offer, you love your Uncle Lukey, don't you, Lina Bug?"

The sound of Uncle Lukey spreads something warm and crackling through your chest - the picture of his dorky self entertaining a baby, putting on dumb voices and getting super into all the play pretend and make believe stuff is sparking thoughts within you that you never even had before.

And at the mere mention of his name, Luke emerges from his room down the hall - thankfully dressed after his shower, though his shirt is creased and his jeans are unbuttoned - an immediate smile brought to his lips that you haven't seen in the last few days.

"Cheeto!" he exclaims, and you stop him just before he reaches the two of them so you can button his pants together, patting a hand to his stomach to signal that he can go.

He curls his good arm around Poppy, the two of them falling into a sweet and familiar embrace before he diverts his attention to the baby in her arms, who's round cheeks flush just at the sight of him - similar to the way you seem to react to him sometimes.

He coos at her, and she giggles back - her cookie discarded as she throws her arms out to be held by him, and you barely stop yourself from wincing as he picks her straight up, his bad shoulder be damned.

"Are you supposed to be lifting babies?" Poppy frowns, and you're thanking God she seems to be on the same boat as you as the two of you watch him softly bounce Lina about.

"Other babies, probably not," he replies, "Nothing will stop me picking up my little Cheeto, though." The voice he puts on is deep, almost comical, lips pouting and brows furrowing as the baby giggles back in response, little squeaks of delight erupting from her chunky little figure.

"Cheeto?"

"She didn't have a name for a long time," Poppy smiles over at you, "Looked like a cheeto in all of her scans, so that's what we called her before she was Lina, and some people can't let it go."

You smile back, sort of weirdly grateful that she didn't clap back with an, it's a long story, so that you could be involved.

"What are you doing here?" Luke asks, twisting until he's facing Poppy while the little girl he's holding puffs her cheeks out at him.

"We were just gonna go out for a walk and grab something to eat, but I realised I forgot snacks for the walk and I met your wonderful girlfriend in the elevator. We have you to thank for this mushed up cookie, I think," Poppy holds her hand out to show him the soggy mess in her hand from where Lina had discarded it before, and you press your lips together to bite back a smile.

You can't really imagine holding anybody's half chewed food - let alone a baby, the thought of it sending slight shivers down your spine.

"We can get breakfast with you, if you want, we were heading out too, right babe?"

Luke looks over at you with widened eyes and a slight, hopeful smile, all thoughts of Thunderbolts seemingly forgotten. You can hardly say no to him, though - you haven't seen him this excited since he got injured, maybe even before then. And you like Poppy, too.

She probably has some dirt on Luke, and she seems like the type who's willing to share.

"Yeah, I bet you know way better food spots than this one does, he'd shovel anything in."

"Hey," he pouts, but he's overshadowed by the laughter of the woman beside him, who looks over at you with a warm smile and gratitude reflecting in her eyes.

"That sounds incredible, actually," she beams, "I'd really appreciate the company."

And that's how the two of you end up spending the entire day with Poppy and Lina - grabbing breakfast at a little cafe Poppy recommended, her catching you up on all her favourite Luke stories as the baby ends up on your lap at one point, stealing half of the avocado from your toast as she let you feed it to her, then joining them on their walk through the park, and even looking after Lina just the two of you while Poppy has a much needed break for an hour up in her and Nico's apartment.

You see a different side to Luke - and as much as you loved him before, as much as you didn't think you could possibly love him any more, you somehow do.

You love the responsible side to him - the side that for some reason knows what temperature Lina likes her bottles, and the signs that she's sleepy, or hungry, or wanting to explore. You love the caring side to him - the side that urges Poppy to leave her baby in your care, and take some time for herself after days of Nico being away, knowing that she's in for a lot more solitude in the weeks to come.

You love the side of him that shares it all with you - gets you involved in such an intimate part of his life you never had access to, before.

And by the end of the day, when you're feeding Lina some blended vegetable concoction Luke had made for her just before Poppy gets there, and you're catching the bits she spits out in your bare hand like you'd been cringing at just hours ago - you realise you love how he gets you to open up to ideas you wouldn't have ever considered until you became familiar with Uncle Lukey, and you can't wait to see what other sides of him you can uncover in all the unlimited amount of time you now have with him.

[cursedcola]

ALRIGHT EVERYONE!

Nobody asked - but I broke down the construction of Epel’s cardigan from the sleepwear card as best I was able (aka. Me zooming in on him and staring very intensely).

This is the pattern idea I’ve come up with and a few grid charts. This is not finished, but what I’m going forward with to make his coat this month. My goal is to be done by the end of June.

So. Looking close at his sleeves - the closest resemblance we’ll get in the crochet world is the honeycomb stitch for the argyle diamonds. My plan is to break his sleeve into fourths. Three large panels of honey comb for the diamonds, and two smaller panels of a curved half-double-crochet to create dividers. The cardigan is clearly oversized on him, and even if it’s because of his smaller stature - I want to be SWAMPED in this thing. So the cuffs need to be CHUNKY. I’ll be going in with either a ribbed stitch, or a back stitch of double crochet. When the time comes I’ll test both to see which looks better.

Now - we’ve got the granny squares.

Looking at my little dude - we can see that they’re not just the front panel. They’re going on the back as well. Since I can’t see behind him, I’m going to take creative liberty and make one large panel of honeycomb stitch to be a central strip on the back. The front panels and side panels are going to be made of jumbo cranny squares.

For those of y’all who don’t crochet - the average granny square is about 25x25 stitches. Except oversized cardis use 8 of these bad boys per front panel. So since Epel has only four on each side, that means those squares gotta be JUMBO.

Zooming in - we see that the patterns are more embroidered. They’ve got texture. Since we’re crocheting, the best way to achieve this is to do pixel crochet for the squares and then go over the designs with a basic embroider stitch. This can be any of your choosing - I’ve yet to pick but will note what I want when the time comes.

There are THREE types of squares on Epel’s coat. I’m just calling them blossom, diamond, and apple. Since there are only three, it would have been difficult to make an entire back with them without having two of a kind touching or diagonal from each other (this is personal preference. I hate how this looks) which is why I’ve decided to go for that middle panel of honeycomb stitch.

The rest of the cardigan seems simple enough. The collar and trim is likely a simple ribbing, and those look like classic farmhouse wooden buttons if I’ve ever seen them.

EDIT (5/6/25): So. Complete change of plan for the sleeves now that I’ve gotten some sleep and thought on it. There’s a cable-knit stitch in the crochet world that closely resembles knit cables. Also lattice stitch or Tunisian crochet can be used for the diamond pattern. So if you want simple/beginner then do the honeycomb with a twisted hdc. If you want advanced then mix the cable-stitch with lattice.

Now - let’s talk materials.

I’m going with acrylic for this. Would it be absolutely divine as wool or a nice, dense alpaca blend? Definitely. I bet that’s what Epel has since his family runs a farm.

I am broke so I’ll be going in with a medium - weight acrylic, hook size 6, and all the granny squares will be done with basic hdc. Although acrylic is a bit itchy - id any of y’all choose to do this? Soak that finished product in a fabric softener solution. It’s a few dollars and your project will lose that scratchy texture. Just don’t let it hang out in the bath too long or the fibers will loosen more than you’d like.

^^^^ This is my general eyeball for how I’ll be constructing this piece. There aren’t any measurements since I’ve get to get my yarn and do a gauge…also, I’m not too sure how oversized I want this. I want to be swamped but not weighed down so hmm…

-

I don’t know how many of y’all like to crochet or do fibre arts - but I fell in love with this coat the moment I saw it and knew it had to be mine. I’m the impatient sort, and already ordered my supplies despite telling myself to wait. Pixel crochet does take a hot minute, so I’m hoping for June but the finished product will likely be more around late-july or august. Just in time for fall and market living where I live!

I could go quicker - but uh, I work as a bridal tailor and Run my own small shop off this app. I spend most of my day sewing lol. It’s been a hot minute since I made something for me, but dang it Epel made it look so cute. I just have to.

No one’s asking, but I’ll be updating. I’m literally so excited and my package of supplies can’t get here quick enough

[arottenlust]

cuz im pretty when i cry (the inspiration)

everything started with that edit. i don’t know what it was, but something about it was hard to look away from. ive rewatched it like a hundred times at this point. the song and the smile on his face inspired the first iteration of this story.

spoilers for the series below (kind of? It kinda fucks w the immersion i think. Idk its spoilerish to me)

one where youre desperate for any crumb of his affection, desperate to have your affections returned, and sukuna is willing and happy to enable your sickness. it grew from there to it instead being a misunderstanding of sorts- sukuna is showing his love and dedication the only way he knows how, with action instead of words. you, used to the very hot and cold and emotionally abusive environment you grew up in, don’t know how to pick up on this. it leads to you slowly falling apart more and more, miserably obsessed with keeping your place beside him, lashing out at any perceived obstacles, despite the fact that sukuna never planned to leave, would never want to. And, blinded by your seemingly easygoing nature and the fact that he quite enjoys your increasingly psychotic behavior, knowing that it stems from your love for him, sukuna doesn’t notice anything is amiss until the cracks begin to splinter and break you apart.

I didn’t plan to make you yandere esque, but it seems that the more twisted parts of me leaked into the story. Oops?

im not sure about including smut. I think i might but im still on the fence about that one…. I probably will tho

it has a happy ending. I didn’t want to give it one, I wanted it to just be a sad, horrifically desperate, story, but this route seemed a little more interesting to write. I think I’ll probably write a different version in the future, one where sukuna really doesn’t care.

the relationship is unhealthy in the sense that a well adjusted person wouldn’t frame their entire life around another person the way you do in this story. i.e youre a yandere. in your head, sukuna could keep you locked up and treat you like his dog-servant-thing, and you’d be happy because you’d be the sole object of his attention. (While u may be unaware) He feels the same in reverse, and he wouldn’t do that anyways, because he’s obsessed and he values you more than you value yourself. That’s why it’s unhealthy. And also because you tweak out if he talks to other people at all with anything on his face other than complete and utter indifference…. but hey! You’re working on it. Basically, It’s written um, romantically? Not super heart breaking and depressing. just putting that out there because I get really unbearable hurt when i read unhealthy -> very sad fics instead of unhealthy -> very in love and reciprocated fics

dykwim?

ugh. I’ll need to write a prequel or something. I want you all to see the way you go from normal and unattached to fighting the urge to stick cameras in his room and huff his underwear. You’re so weird. Stop fantasizing about killing the people he talks to, they dont even exist!

i originally planned to make it as gender neutral as i could but a lot of the scenarios don’t make sense if youre not fem, so that’s that. if that changes throughout the course of writing out the series, i shall let you all know.

also. should i make a playlist?

[abigailspinach]

Read it!!!!! It’s reallly gooooooooooood!!!!!

Maia is a lovely cinnamon of a protagonist doing a very difficult job with the help of the worlds most competent mail man turned secretary (of state almost)

Here…. A podcast episode touching upon The Goblin Emperor and also Jupiter Ascending and Person of Interest

M: Read the book! Get the book from your library!

A: It’s an amazing book.

M: Make your librarian buy five copies—

F: It’s a really good book.

M: —and build a display of nothing but this book!

A: Why would you need any book but this book?

M: Why would you need any book but this book? We talk sometimes about, like, a friendly coffee shop AU type of fantasy… this isn’t quite that, but it’s just so nice?

A: It’s so nice. It’s so good. It’s about, like, nice people being good, and well-meaning, and working hard to do good things in the world even though it’s, like, hard and tricky and they’re surrounded by people who are not as good and kind as they are.

M: But the thing that we have here is this young character who was never meant to be in power, and so has grown up into this kind, thoughtful, humble young man… and suddenly somebody plops a crown on his head and he’s like… WHAT DO? HELP?

F: I think that’s what makes it a very positive narrative is that in another book it might be about him becoming more cynical, and he does become more cynical in that he’s exposed to a wider range of people and motives and, I guess, evil-doing than he has before then, but his own goodness and niceness is such that the fabric of that world bends around him, eventually, and that’s the hieros gamos.

M: To… to me it’s that he is… [pause] His default action is kindness, even to people who don’t, according to those around him, merit his attention. And what we see is this kind of trailing ducklings of, uh, vassals that just sort of form around him and follow him around worshipfully.

A: Yes!

M: And he doesn’t even notice it happening?

A: Yes. YES. [Delighted laughter]

M: And it’s amazing. I just… the writing as well, the character development of every single individual character. You can parse out exactly why they’re doing it and how this noble liege has earned their fealty.

F: You’re right, in that the humbleness of Maia, the main character, is something that makes this an incredibly powerful narrative, but if you think about it from the point of view of the vassals, and the way the book is written you never actually get—correct me if I’m wrong, but—you never actually get inside their heads. You’re only inside Maia’s head, really. But, you… you can tell, as the reader, what is going on in their heads and why they have fallen into this duckling line of supporting him and believing in him, and you can tell that, from their point of view, there is almost an element of noblebright going on, or an element of glory, it’s just not in a way that they’d thought about it before. But they clearly idealize Maia by the end of it. But he himself is so humble, and that’s what makes it a really powerful depiction of this particular trope.

M: But my point is also that it is entirely a satisfying example of a platonic version of this trope.

F: WELLLLLL, I mean, there is some fanfiction that we… [A tries valiantly to restrain her laughter in the background]

M: No, no no, okay, okay, let me clarify myself: it is entirely satisfying, you can then extend it if you so choose. I’m not saying it has to be.

F: Okay, fair.

M: ANYWAY…

[A begins outright cackling]

M: The point is that… STOP CACKLING AT ME, ALEX. I HAVE NOT GOTTEN TO BE INCOHERENT NEARLY AS MUCH AS YOU DO, SO SHOUTING IS NOW.

The Goblin Emperor will teach you how to speak Elvish without you even realizing it because it so gradually introduces words, so halfway through the book you'll be saying shit like "I can't believe the Ethuverazhid Zhas's dachenmaza nohecharis has to commit revethvoran :/" with a straight face

[endofthelinegang]

falling together

authors note: if you're new here welcome, if not you know what's going to happen, spoilers sort of for the bolts of thunder. comfort fic, and just know that if you ever need to talk to anyone about anything even if its just to nerd out and make a friend please know my messages are always open and that i see all of you and i love all of you unconditionally. anyway, proceed with the bob fic.

If you heard one more bit of bickering, you were going to snap.

Between the phone calls between Sam and Bucky arguing with each other under the table away from their legal guidance, the girls and Walker fighting over stupid little comments he just had to make for no discernable reason, and Alexei walking around screaming instead of just talking about everything, you were practically picking at your skin to get out of the general living spaces.

It wasn't even that they were at each other's head that the tension was too much, it was actually more the noise of it all. Most annoying was the way that everyone thought they could talk to you about all of their issues all day every day and of course you cared and of course you wanted to listen. But my god it was practically useless, any and all advice you gave was just thrown away in an instant. Once that gratification of having a solution was there, it was like the issue never existed to them at all.

So there you sat on your comforter, bed still perfectly made with earbuds in as loud as you could get them with the noise cancellation on and the Do Not Disturb function on—even if no one texted you, your phone would be certain to tell you your volume was absurdly loud and ruining your ears.

You would have rather had the TV on as some mindless noise and to play on the phone, but then there was a chance one of them would happen to hear you sitting there and invade your space some more. Worse, they might try to watch TV with you and then that would lead to everyone eventually being in your room and possibly bickering.

With your phone thrown to the foot of your bed, you laid your head on your pillow. It felt odd to lay there without a blanket or source of warmth, in fact the thought gave you cold chills despite the perfect temperature being in the room. Not usually choosing to lay on your back for comfort, your arms and hands were unsure of what to do. So they laid gently in your lap and all you could hear was music, and all you could feel eventually turned into basically nothing.

Peace was overwhelming, so much so that it made you succumb to one of the most simple things peace could grant you. A fucking nap.

Headphones laid silently in your ears, your phone was somewhere not bugging you, until all of a sudden your body was made aware that it existed again. Unsure quite yet, you remained in a sleepy haze, until your body connected all of the dots: you were being very gently shaken.

Ordinarily, the correct response would be to sit up and see what was needed, maybe even smile and stretch out while listening. Instead, grabbing the hand and pushing backwards was the choice made without your eyelids even opening to see who or what was going on.

"I-I'm sorry, I just... I thought."

Fuck.

You could hear the voice past the noise cancellation, though it was muffled it made you sit up and rip the earbuds out, throwing them haphazardly around the bed and look to the space nearest your bed that was now entirely void of anyone.

Making your hands into fists, you shook them as you got out of bed and rushed down the hall to catch up.

"Wait, wait, wait," you were whispering-yelling, seeing that the day had come to be dark and you knew that the older folk did in fact prefer their sleep to start around then.

Chasing him made you think: when was the last time you saw him? You had been noticing everything else and focusing on everything at once, but when was the last time you had seen Robert?

You tried to count back the days, but it blurred together. Had it been two? Three? More?

That realization hit like a gut punch. You had been so wrapped up in managing everyone else’s meltdowns that you hadn’t noticed your own world—the one person who mattered most—slipping into the background.

Your bare feet padded against the cool floor as you turned the corner. “Robert!” you hissed, still trying not to shout.

He was already at the far end of the hallway, just about to turn the corner. His shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller, like disappearing would be easier than confronting… you.

You hated that. You hated that he thought he needed to hide from you.

“Hey,” you said, softer this time, voice catching up to your feet as you got closer. “Baby. Stop.”

And he did.

He didn’t turn around right away, but he stopped, head tilted like he was deciding if facing you would make everything worse. You reached out, your hand brushing his arm gently, and only then did he finally look at you.

His eyes were red. Not glowing with power, not burning with rage. Just… tired. So very tired.

“Oh, Rob…” you whispered, stepping in closer and wrapping your arms around his waist before he could say anything else.

He stood stiffly for a second, frozen in place like a man not used to comfort—but then he melted into you, arms coming up around your shoulders like he needed you to hold him together.

You buried your face against his chest and just held him. Not as Sentry. Not as some all-powerful being barely containing a force of destruction inside him. Just Robert. Your Robert.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he mumbled into your hair. “You looked so peaceful. I just—I didn’t wanna be alone anymore.”

Your heart shattered in slow motion. You leaned back just enough to see his face, cupping it in your hands.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve felt it.”

He shook his head. “You’ve been dealing with so much. I didn’t wanna add to it.”

“You don’t add to anything, Rob,” you said fiercely. “You’re not a burden. You’re not too much. You’re mine. And I want to be here for you the way you are for me.”

The silence between you was heavy but tender, like neither of you needed to speak to be understood. You guided him gently back toward the bedroom, fingers entwined with his, thumb brushing against his knuckles with each step.

Once there, you sat him down and climbed onto the bed beside him, pulling a blanket off the top of the bed frame over both of you. Your hands never left him—one stroking up and down his arm, the other resting on his chest where you could feel the steady, if somewhat erratic, beat of his heart.

He laid his head in your lap without asking. You threaded your fingers through his hair, soothing in slow, rhythmic movements.

He didn’t say anything after that. Not for a while.

You could feel him trying to breathe slowly—trying to make it look effortless, like nothing was wrong. But you knew him. You knew the way his body carried pain. You could feel it beneath your fingertips in the tension of his shoulders, in the way he held his jaw like it might fall apart if he let it go slack.

He wasn’t okay. And he hadn’t been for a while.

You let your fingers trail gently over his scalp, his hair soft and curling around your knuckles as you combed through it again and again. That kind of touch didn’t fix things. But it reminded him—hopefully—that he was here. That someone saw him. That he mattered.

The room was dark except for the soft golden spill of a bedside lamp, and the music had long since stopped. But it was quiet now. Finally, quiet. And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, you weren’t dreading the silence. It was giving him room to breathe.

You felt his voice before you heard it—a small tremble in his chest.

“I don’t know who I am sometimes,” he whispered. “I wake up and there’s this fog, and I try to remember what it felt like to be… human. But it’s like the edges are gone. I keep reaching for myself and finding nothing.”

Your hand stilled for a moment. You let his words settle before you spoke.

“I see you,” you said softly. “Even when you can’t. I see Robert. I don’t love you because you’re strong. Or because you’re the Sentry. I love you because… when you talk to plants, you whisper. Because you always wait for people to catch up, even though you could fly ahead. Because you care, so much, it hurts you. And I know that doesn’t feel like enough to you right now. But it’s still you.”

His fingers curled in your blanket, gripping tight. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” you admitted. “It’s not easy to hold on when you’re falling apart. But you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. Even when it’s dark. Especially when it’s dark.”

He blinked up at you slowly, eyes glassy and red-rimmed. There wasn’t drama in his crying—no shaking sobs or heaving breaths. Just quiet tears that he didn’t bother to wipe away.

Maybe that was worse. He was always so quiet when he was slipping.

You reached down and brushed one away with your thumb, as gently as you could. Like you were afraid you’d break him by accident.

“I’m scared of being loved,” he confessed. “Because if you really knew how broken I am, you wouldn’t love me anymore. And then I’d lose the only thing keeping the Void from swallowing me.”

Your chest ached in that deep, marrow-level way only grief and love and helplessness can cause.

“I have seen it,” you said. “I’ve seen the cracks. I’ve seen the days you can’t talk. I’ve seen you stare at walls like they’re screaming at you. And I still love you. Not because I’m delusional. Because I chose to love all of you. Even the parts that hurt.”

He closed his eyes, and you felt the air go out of him in a slow, trembling exhale.

“Okay,” he said.

It was a small word. Quiet. Shaky.

But it meant he believed you. Maybe not all the way. Maybe not forever. But right now.

He believed you.

You hesitated for a moment, then gently tugged the sleeve of your hoodie down past your wrist. Quietly, without saying anything, you wrapped it around his hand—his left wrist, the one he always rubbed raw when he was struggling but trying not to show it. The fabric hung a little loose, warm from your skin. You placed your hand over his, like sealing a promise.

“Hold onto this,” you whispered. “If you ever forget, just look at it. Or touch it. Or... just know I gave it to you because I love you. Not the powerful part. Not the superhero. Just you.”

His breath hitched again, but this time it wasn’t panic. It was something closer to relief. He didn’t say anything. He just curled his fingers around the cuff and nodded like he’d just been handed a lifeline.

So you stayed like that. One hand in his hair, the other wrapped around him. Guarding him not from the world, but from that part of himself he kept caged and silent and hurting.

You didn’t need to save him. He wasn’t a problem to solve.

He just needed you to stay.

And you would. For as long as he needed.

[zhalfirin-binds]

Extinction - Ver

(see the finished book here)

Process and things to look out for the next time

I greatly enjoyed making this one. I wanted to try putting the paper onlay on in a different way. (No pictures of the process since I had my hands busy and no time to spare for taking photos.)

First was again to pick the part of the paper that I needed gone. I felt like all colours played nicely into the colour palette of the comic, but I needed room to put a title on and wanted the cover less busy. I felt like the red and orange area would be a better fit than wave themed one, so I cut that way. I painstakingly tried to keep the feathers of all those birds intact (so so many birds... ) but this time voted against cutting along the legs as well, there were too many legs and they rip easily off when wet or glue down crooked. So off with the legs it was. (I also got rid of a few birds to make room for the spine and front title.)

When laying down the onlay I decided against putting the onlay on the cover and instead placed the cover onto the onlay. I marked the cover position on the back of the onlay glued the paper up and hit my first challenge. Which was to transfer the glued up onlay to a clean sheet of waste paper so I would not ruin the cloth. To work in the hinge I used sheet of plastic (I cut open an old plastic sleeve for documents), which worked well enough to start with. I had time to get the paper nicely set into the hinge and over the spine stiffener and then I had to peel the sheet away form the paper onlay. Which would have been much easier if there weren't so many tight curves and edges in the design. I got it off almost intact and with no visible issue when I was done. The glue had still dried a bit too fast, but I think it's the way to go. (Next time I will try adding some paste.)

When the paper was on I pressed it shortly, and then put the book block inside and weighed down again, this time between metal edged boards that have a lip to hold down the hinge.

The ledge is actually quite large on my boards (those were self-made by a friend). You can see where the wood ends and boards start. I have 3 different boards on each side to completely even out the protruding edge so I can adjust those lips to the case's board thickness. I neither want the book dangling without support just being pinched tightly at the hinge nor does it help much if the lip is so short it doesn't reach down the full board thickness at the hinge.

Btw, the boards for evening out are exactly cut to size of the pressing boards and I marked each thickness so I know I'm using the corresponding boards on each side.

Now to the issues and possible future issues with this bind. Again I was a bit late and some parts were to dry already to adhere nicely to the case so I had to shove some glue under the paper. Thankfully, the cloth was very forgiving in that area. It doesn't look like it but it's sort of coated and not paper backed at all. (Naturally I have only a tiny bit left of it.)

I also made this case, hot stamped the title and cased in in one day. The case was not entirely dry when I stamped the title which can be seen by the slightly too deep indentation of the letters. Especially at the 'n' at the end.

The paper feels like it sits more on top than it has in previous binds. Which makes it a bit more prone to scuffing, also, all the pointed angles are not ideal. Even less the ones in the hinge area. It would have been preferable to have none of the small bits situated in an area with motion. I already had to glue down a few beaks and feather tips there. I will see how it holds up to in the long run.

[cdnonymous]

Hi again @muletia! Maybe you didn’t.. see my first part of this but it’s fine really you probably didn’t see it… or maybe you don’t care… ANYWAY HERE’S PArt 2 of Silence is Stronger than Words!

Part 1

- 💿 anon ^v^

~1500 words

•—•—•—•—•—•

Silence is Stronger than Words

Yesterday… The merman I gloriously call Megatron… laid his helm on my lap… for the entire afternoon. Heck he even let me carefully stroke his buckhead.. and he had the audacity to growl at me when I stopped. My legs are sore for obvious reasons, my arms are tired, and it’s now nighttime, yes you heard me correctly, it’s. Fucking. Nighttime.

At least he’s sleeping right now, or that’s what he wants me to think, because as soon as I stop stroking he opens his scarlet eyes and glares at me, as if silently ordering me to continue. If I don’t want to become fish food… I’d better continue “comforting” him right? Even if my eyelids are as heavy as at least 20 anvils, even if I feel like my legs are only mere phantoms now from how ungodly long his heavy ass laid on me for… I need to stay with him, I don’t really have any choice anyway.

At least there are a few.. good sides, if I dare say, from being stuck with him. For example, I learned that mermen can purr… like cats, and it’s comforting despite everything. His “purrs” are more like the rumble of a car’s engine, humming satisfyingly in the dead of a rural night… and damn it’s hard to stay awake with this soothing sound going nonstop through your whole tiny body. I also learned that they like to be petted, well at least he likes it… when he’s in the mood for them obviously.

A small shift in his position made me come out of my boredom’s thoughts, he changed his grip on my shoulders, making it less strict, but still firm. I sighed, still lazily stroking his silver-scaled helm, I looked up at the stars, which were visible from my perspective. They reminded me of why I bought the cabin in the first place; because I wanted to relax, to be myself, to not be judged by anybody. I wanted to stay calm in the weird solace that solitude generously gave me each time she accompanied me.

After thinking about it, meeting that merman, no… Megatron was maybe something that was meant to happen. This cabin hadn’t been bought for years, it was on the market for almost 5 years when I first stumbled upon it. Which means that Megatron was probably alone as well, from what I observed he was completely alone in this lagoon, the only one of his species inside the Shy Lake. He probably yearned for company, which may be the reason why I was stuck under his helm for so long. Maybe he needs someone that cares about him, or someone who he can care for?

Someone to love?

Why was I thinking about love? He’s a merman, would we even be compatible? Besides I’m just making assumptions, maybe he is just clingy on the inside, cold on the outside? Maybe I’m overthinking things again. This was supposed to be a vacation—

My train of noisy thoughts was abruptly interrupted by another, almost annoyed grumble coming from Megatron’s sharp maw. I continued to gently stroke his helm again, but he stopped me, pinning my hand to the rock we were both lying on at this point. I didn’t even have the time to say “what now?” To him before his head was back closer to my own face, shutting my own mouth pretty quickly. His crimson irises pierced through me like arrows, despite this I almost saw a hint of… worry?

Why would he worry about me? I’m nothing to him, just a mere fleshy woman who can’t even dare look back at him, maybe even a snack for later if I let my pessimistic mind wander far enough. He’s a titan compared to my toothpick build, his fangs alone could rip my throat off, his strength could tear me in as many pieces as he wants… but he’s not doing anything of this sort. In fact he has the same expression from before he pinned me to this back crushing rock; he’s conflicted… or he might again be feigning it like last time.

That’s when I see them for real this time, his teeth, his full rows of limb-ripping fangs. Is he.. smirking? No, is it my sleep deprivation? It must be.. what is he trying to do? Is he actually going to eat me? I thought I was being pessimistic earlier. I didn't mean it! My eyes widened slightly as he showed them to me, his biting power probably more powerful than a piranha’s.

And me reacting to this was probably the worst mistake I've ever made.

He leans closer to me, his hands keeping me from squirming too much, I have to admit it; I’m scared now. I want to get the hell out of here, but even if I tried, or even if he wasn’t restraining me, I’d probably be frozen in place. Like a stupid deer in headlights, I’d be stuck and die as a coward, awaiting my fate with hesitant open arms. I look terrified, and I don’t want to think that he likes it, not wanting to jinx it again. I silently but shakily breathe, I’m not the type to tremble when afraid, in fact it’s quite the opposite, I’m frozen like an ice block.

A low, barely reassuring purr is heard from Megatron as he’s now dangerously close to my left shoulder. I didn’t even want to look at him anymore, and by reflex my eyes shut by themselves, letting me meet my fate in darkness. I didn’t faint, I’m a coward but my heart is strong enough to bear it anyway, instead I looked away while pressing my eyes closed. I waited, despite not fearing death, I didn’t really want to meet it that way… but I didn’t have a choice anyway now did I?

Then… I felt it… I felt his teeth on my skin, but they weren’t piercing it, ripping it apart like in the gruesome way I anticipated it, they were… marking it. They were pressuring on my skin just enough for me to not be hurt, but just enough to be carved in my shoulder. I gasped audibly when he “bit” me, maybe I was overreacting a bit, but still… I thought I was going to die here. He didn’t even flinch when I gasped, in fact he didn’t even seem to notice or care in the first place, until I felt his fangs slowly moving away from my shoulder… and he pulled away, abruptly letting go of his grip on my arms.

I immediately sat upright, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still very present and flowing rapidly in my veins. My right hand on my chest, trying to calm my heart down, my other hand keeping me from falling from the rock as my legs were still numb. I breathed in and out, trying to regain a decent composure, which was surprisingly fast. My curiosity got the better of me and my right hand went from my chest to my left shoulder, where Megatron bit me. I wanted to know if he actually left a deep mark, if it would take a while before it healed. There was no blood, just red dots for every single one of the teeth that touched me.

I looked at him, shook by all of this, not knowing what to say, but I doubt that “saying” anything would do much right now. He stared back at me with smugness, a pure “haha look what I did to you~” expression, he seemed proud, proud that he bit me, as if it was an accomplishment. As if giving me a “love bite” or something was completely normal despite the fact that I’m human and he’s not? As I was now the one being conflicted, he returned into the water as if nothing happened, and conveniently enough, my legs got their nerves back. I got onto both my legs, picked up my sketchbook and pencil… then I stopped.

Why did I stop? I don’t know, I just did… and I looked back, Megatron was still in the water, only his upper bust was visible again, his ruby eyes reflecting on the lagoon’s wavy surface. I could see his smirk from where I was despite the darkness.

— I’ll… I’ll come back tomorrow… I finally mustered after my throat was so dry from all the heavy breathing I recently had to do.

He stayed silent of course, and I simply walked back to my cabin, the darkness surrounding me felt right, even if I felt his stare on my back. I sighed as I heard the familiar creaks of the porch under my feet, I opened my door, closed it behind me, and did everything I usually did before going to bed. Except this time, except for thinking about my plan for tomorrow…

I remembered that axolotls bite their mates when courting… and now I can’t help but feel my face become hotter…

Don’t ask why… because I won’t answer… I prefer demonstrations over explanations.

•—•—•—•—•—•

OMG IT’S 11 PM I’M GOING TO WORK TOMORROW- anyway I hope my sleep deprived ass fed you well ^v^

I’ll make part 3 if @muletia notices

[camcat1320]

My kind of multishipping is not of the same nature. As a fanfiction writer, I have a concrete belief of what my endgame ships would be if there was a 4th season. However, I can ship others that would occur prior to the endgame. I guess I'm a timeline multishipper rather than a simultaneous multishipper.

What you said about Kataang's dynamic happening independently from Zutara's is perfect. Like how Katara feels towards Aang has nothing to do with Zuko's presence in her life.

In the beginning, I was rooting for Aang to be with Katara. I too had a crush on someone and I wanted it to come true so I related to Aang's struggle. But as the show progressed, things changed slowly and gradually.

It's sort of like a frog in a pot. Chilling with a ship, think it's pretty cool. A burner is lit and the water in the pot warms up. When a character does something off-putting, we make excuses for the questionable behavior. Eventually, there has to be a point where you realize the water is getting too hot and you need to jump out or risk getting cooked.

If I use the analogy for Zutara, the pot starts off visibly hot and we don't go near it. Zuko is obviously the enemy and it'd be a bad ship. But as the show progresses, the heat under the pot is reduced and starts to look appealing. We settle into the warm but not hot water. Then the betrayal happens and the burner is cranked to 10. Afterward, the burner is reduced again to the point there is no more flame (Get it? Cuz he can't firebend?). But we know we were betrayed and hurt by the boiling water so why would we trust the water again? After making amends, we dip our toes back into the pot and it's nice, cool, and refreshing... And it stays that way.

Then the anti-Zutara folks are screaming at us "Hey, that pot was hot, are you crazy? You're gonna get burned!" But the Zutarians are like "actually, it's not hot anymore, come see for yourself." And the anti's are like "You girls always fall for the hot bad boys when there's a perfectly good nice guy right here. If you like that pot of water, then you're doomed to have toxic relationships for the rest of your life!" (they say with their entire chest as their ship inches ever so closer to becoming toxic.)

I'm sorry, I'm rambling now 😅 That went off the rails, huh?

people can love or hate ships for whatever reason and as long as you’re not harassing people it doesn’t matter

AND ALSO

i find it so weird when people like “you only hate kataang because you ship zutara” lmao. i am a Multishipper At Heart. there is nothing i love more than pairing off characters in different dynamics and seeing how they affect each other. i can and very easily do ship multiple things that ‘contradict’ each other because none of it is real. me reading zutara fic one day does not prevent me from reading katara x suki fic the next (if it existed. more of it should).

my issues with KA have to do with THEIR dynamic in-show, not anyone else’s. and i am fully capable of going “oh, i don’t ship this that much, but it’s canon and i guess it’s cute.” that’s how i USED to feel about KA until i rewatched last year with more adult and critical-analysis-oriented eyes than i ever had before. and found it to be a pretty bleak dynamic, all things considered, and one that reflects a lot of real-world attitudes about gow women are treated and expected to behave in relationships. and that would be true whether or not zuko even existed, or if he and katara never bonded. all zutara does for me when it comes to this is provide a point of comparison on how a relationship Can develop. and that the main romance we’re supposed to root for really didn’t do the same.

[cyclogenesis]

life update i'm leaving for france in approx eight hours but we still managed to fit in some fucking family drama nonsense last night and this morning like my life is RIDICULOUS

the thing is there's still so much stuff i didn't even talk about here during the Worst Four Months of My Life and that includes one insane thing which was both of my biological parents being in the same room with me for the first time in my entire life.

god, okay, let me summarize the lore. never knew my bio dad, mom didn't even know who he was bc she was 20 and fucking around (fine) and she didn't want to talk about it and got mad when i brought it up. i eventually decide to do an ancestry dna test at age 36 and with the help of my half-first cousin and a lot of googling i find him and reach out. it goes amazing. he's fantastic, he's thrilled to find out about me, we eventually meet in person and get along super well and it completely rules. i tell my mom and she's clearly resentful that i'm making her think about it but ultimately manages to peek over the precipice of her own selfishness and accept it.

so while i'm getting to know bio dad chris these are also covid times and my mom and stepdad are going insane bc they're entitled boomers who genuinely resent the idea that they might have to care about other people ever and they get facebooked into believing all sorts of dumb shit. i'm like, 'what??' and my stepdad yells at me and hangs up on me and my mom texts me and says 'don't respond to this message but you need to apologize to him' oh my god this is making me angry all over again. okay.

ultimately: i try to have a grown-up conversation with them in person thanksgiving 2021. stepdad yells at me, grabs my mom and they zoom away in his jeep. literally. grammy is pissed at me because i told my parents they hurt my feelings, which is so much worse than the fact that they hurt my feelings that our relationship is never the same. neither my mom nor my stepdad directly contact me again for TWO YEARS until my mom asks me to come for christmas and i tell her we need to have a serious talk first and then she ghosts me. for another year.

but then of course my stepdad who she chose over me divorces her, and i'm forced to interact with her again bc grammy's dying, and we never talk about it, and she never apologizes, bc she's an unbelievable fucking asshole. i have to shove all this down to my own detriment to help take care of grammy, who has also been an asshole to me, and i think we can all agree that not only am i a saint, but i should be crowned the next pope.

so while i'm in fresno, bio dad chris says he wants to come down and see grammy bc we'd all met up a few times and she really liked him (everyone does, he's great). i tell my mom, who has not seen him since they worked at sizzler together and fucked around one crazy autumn and conceived me, and she's like 'oh, great!' and i'm like good bc i wasn't asking.

so this is how, at age 41, i end up in the same room with both of my parents for the first time ever. chris and my mom hug and my mom starts crying, bc she did have fond memories of this guy she hadn't seen since she was 20 and everyone's emotions are running high. grammy's happy to see chris. we sit at grammy's dining room table and eat burger king and i'm like whooooa i'm having dinner with my parents for the first time ever. bro that is crazy. it was crazy!!!!

my mom pulls me aside and is like, wow, it's really great to see him, he's as nice as i remembered, and she's clearly beating around the bush so i'm like he's hot, right? and she's relieved like YES, he's hot, and i'm like lol. and then later she's like 'i think i kind of have a crush on him' and my life flashes before my eyes and i'm like haha but in my head i'm living the anti-parent trap. i would rather die than see my parents get (back) together. bitch leave him alone. i would not inflict my mother on him in a thousand years. he's great and she sucks. the best thing they ever did and will do is create me.

the next morning she gets a mildly upsetting text from my ex-stepdad and tags chris and is like 'can i talk to you for a second?' and from the other room i hear her say 'i know sara doesn't care about this' because she is a manipulative fucking asshole trying to get him on her side by making me look bad because there is something deeply and profoundly wrong with her and then she tells him she's upset bc ex-stepdad wants them to do their taxes separately and she thought they were going to do them together. wow.

i escape fresno. after a little more communication things trickle down into her barely contacting me bc, as we know, this was already a relationship she felt fine abandoning for three years, lmao. in a moment of weakness i text her about how i talked to amber benson and it was neat and she doesn't even text me back until the following morning. cool, fuck you too.

in april she asks me to come visit though! well, actually, she asks if i want to see if chris can come down too and we can all go together to see her high school best friend's cover band play at the table mountain casino. she suggests we look into getting a room at the hotel there and it's $289 a night to stay in a standard room at this casino in rural fresno county, which is more money than i spent for a ticket to fucking paris and also i don't want to go. i decline. from then on she doesn't text me and i have to text her in order to find out details about grammy's house selling, a thing she is present for and i am not. thanks.

so this morning i get this text:

oh my god. oh my god. oh my god. 'i don't want to put you on the spot' puts me on the spot. 'sad and lonely' damn that's crazy you're feeling alone bc the man you chose over me left you? what's it like to feel sad and lonely, tell me about it, you abandoned me for three fucking years so maybe i can relate. oh my god. i am just like i am fucking INCANDESCENT with rage. the audacity. the sheer fucking NERVE, can you imagine, as if i'm supposed to be sympathetic to HER, as if she has any right to ask me for a favor, after every fucking thing she's done, the abominable way that she has treated me, her only child, over the last several years, as if i would ever feed him into the gaping fucking narcissistic black hole of a maw that is her whiny, thoughtless, selfish, bitchy, NIGHTMARE OF A SELF...oh my god.

i left her ass on read. yeah i hope she feels stupid asking. i hope she feels sad and lonely and pathetic and not worth loving and so fucking easy to leave behind the way that she made me feel for three fucking years after she walked out on me. god i am so fucking ANGRY!!! every person i've told this whole story to has gotten the requisite joke about how i'm out here making the anti-parent trap happen bc lmao girl stay away from him but i still would not have imagined she would just straight up ask me to set her up with him. fuck off. FUCK OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

anyway this also follows last night when cousin leahmann the failure of an estate executor who nevertheless gets a third of everything called me and was like 'donnie doesn't have a headstone, it's $1600, i'll pay most of it but you can contribute' and then waited in silence for me to be like 'oh sure! i already shelled out $1481 for my share of the burial costs that she lied to me about pre-paying and insisted go toward her wishes of being put in a coffin and then into the ground with no funeral so there was no point and also she is dead so it doesn't matter what she wanted, to be honest, i think we should have just cremated her, and i'm never going to visit the gravesite, bc she's not in there, the thing that made her her is gone so i would not even be giving you money for an expensive rock for her, it would be for you, bc this is meaningful to you, not me, and it would feel to me like setting hundreds of dollars on fire in addition to the $1481 i already set on fire for you who insisted on getting the box and the hole in the ground,' but instead i was like well, let's see if the house sale goes through, bc that's presumably going to happen this week, i fucking hope.

and what's also insane is that he said to me repeatedly, after i gave up my only source of income and a month of my life to move in with grammy and take care of her at the end, that he would give me part of his share of the proceeds from the house for helping out so much, so why not just subtract whatever he wanted from me for the rock from however much he's going to give me as a thank you, right, like why are we even talking about this unless he's also a huge liar like grammy was and isn't going to follow through on his word, like my god, these FUCKING PEOPLE!!!!

so, neither he nor my mother know that i'm leaving the country tonight and will not be back for two and a half months lol. mom will find out from facebook when i post photos from paris the same way i used to find out things about her life from facebook bc she never told me shit either. here's hoping i just get to come back home to a check and then never have to deal with these people ever again!!!!!

[whisper-ocean]

Terrifier 4 theory

inspired by the post by @bloodyrib from the other day asking for peoples theories about terrifier 4.

i've spent all day writing this so I really hope you guys like it. any feedback will be very much appreciated as I'm still getting in to the swing of things with my writing.

Anyway here goes

Sienna pulls her coat tighter around her the bitter wind and rain attacking her with a relentless force, her pace quickens and she cant stop thinking about what she’s about to do, about what she needs to do. 

Gabby is stuck in hell and Sienna remembers the promise she made last year after the battle with the Miles County Clown the promise to find Gabby. Sienna thinks back to that night she was so close so fucking close she had the upper hand but Gabby needed her more, Sienna tried with everything she had to pull Gabby up from the portal to hell but ultimately failed losing not only her younger cousin but the only weapon that could ensure Arts demise, and now with Gabby gone and Johnathan seemingly dead Sienna is all alone in the world. Alone and on the run the authorities after her Sienna is desperate to find a way to prove her innocence but unfortunately the clown made his escape and went into hiding leaving Sienna the sole suspect in last years murders.

Sienna finally spots the familiar attraction up ahead “The Terrifier” the only logical way to find another portal but Sienna knows its not going to be easy and she knows that he will also be there waiting just for her but Siennas not scared anymore she has nothing left to lose, her entire family is gone and her friends also and its all because of Art.

Sienna approaches the attraction and takes a deep breath before entering. Its dark and in absolute ruins worlds away from how it looked last time she was here. Silently she walks through the building jumping at every little creak and groan, she’s ready for this fight but the fear still settles in deep down in the pit of her stomach, yes she has nothing to lose but the fear of breaking her promise to Gabby makes her more afraid than ever.

Sienna finally comes to a stop, this is where she first fought him all those years ago she looks around remembering how hard she fought against him doing everything in her power to protect her brother. Her eyes scan the room stopping on a old patch of dried blood, the exact spot she beheaded him thinking that it would be the end of all the torment and the horror he inflicted on god knows how many people. 

Sienna continues to look around when all of a sudden out of nowhere *SMACK* pain shoots through her head as she falls to the floor, Sienna quickly turns over and stares up at the menacing figure looming above her, Siennas face contorts into a snarl “bastard” she spits, quick as a flash she’s back on her feet and runs launching herself at him at this moment in time Sienna has the upper hand she grabs a rock thats laying on the ground next too them and starts hitting him repeatedly over the head ‘YOU. TOOK. EVERYTHING. FROM. ME” she screams after every hit, all Art does is silently laugh underneath her which just just made her anger stronger just as she raises her arm to take another hit Art quick as a flash grabs her arm and twists until the pain is too much and she drops the rock with a yell, Art pushes her off and jumps up grabbing Sienna by the hair and starts to drag her across the ground, he effortlessly throws her against a wall, she slumps down pain shooting through her body, her head spinning after the knocks to the head she tries to get up but is soon knocked right back down, blow after blow he hits Sienna with a bat wrapped in barbed wire, her coat in tatters she can feel the blood pouring down her back all she can feel is pain and is so close to blacking out but she remembers Gabby and the reason she sought him out even after all this time, she starts to crawl trying to find some sort of cover, Art however really enjoying this game follows her and continues to deal blow after blow, Sienna curls up into the foetal position letting him think that she’s finally surrendering to him, gleefully he continues his attack but doesn’t notice her reach down and grab the gun that she had carefully concealed under her pant leg, BANG she fires the first shot which soots straight through his leg, he silently screams out in pain looking shocked. He’s angry now and raises the bat again but BANG a second shot shoots through his wrist causing him to drop the bat in pain, his face changing into one of pure rage but before he has a chance to do anything Sienna throws herself at him once more but instead on landing on solid ground they fall through the wooden slats and they continue to fall further and further.

When they finally land the air is knocked right out of her lungs when Sienna finally takes a breathe she looks around her dazed, she notices that the air surrounding them is overwhelmingly thick with heat, its so hot she can barely breathe she feels the flames before she sees them, she looks around, its mostly dark but the flames show enough for her to make out the place she’s ended up in. It looks like they’re outside the sky is dark but illuminated by the fires surrounding them. The roar of the fires is deafening Sienna looks around desperately trying to figure out where she is but then she stops and realises, holy shit I found it she thinks to herself I’m in hell, the realisation overwhelms her, her chest feels tight and she starts to panic. Looking round trying to think about her next step her gaze stops as she notices him, Art the clown slowly gets up and looks over at Sienna he grins at her al out as if to say ‘you’re in my realm now bitch’.

Sienna knows that this is going to end one of two ways either she dies or he does and she’ll be damned if he gets the better of her again before she finds Gabby.

‘GABBY’ Sienna shouts desperately she starts to sprint not caring that he’s still there with her, she has no idea where she’s going but she continues to run. Sienna runs until she finds herself in a room that looks like an alternate  version of The Terrifier full of flames and ruins, frantically Sienna searches the room hoping to find some trace of where Gabby could be ‘Gabby, I’m here baby where are you’ Sienna grows even more frantic knowing that her time is limited, Art wasn’t that far behind when she ran and Siennas not stupid she knows its only a matter of time before he catches up to her. Sienna can hear footsteps approaching so she whips around to find Art standing there that shit eating grin plastered on his face the blood from her earlier attack still dripping down the side of his face, she begins to shout but then notices that he’s holding a seemingly lifeless body in his arms. Sienna takes one look and screams, she screams until her throat is raw and tears blur her vision because laying there in the clowns arms is Gabby. Sienna drops to the floor in defeat despite her efforts she was too late, Gabby’s dead she couldn’t save her, Art grins thinking that finally she’s been broken enough for the demon to take root and begins to laugh manically yet still. No sound comes from him, he points at Sienna mocking her, he cant help himself he’s finally won. He stands there waiting and laughing but doesn’t notice her start to move towards something, the gleam catches his eye fuck he thinks the sword she’s trying to get the sword, he starts to race over trying to beat her there but he noticed too late she was already there.

Sienna grabs the sword but the second she does she plagued with visions, she sees people that she hasn’t seen for a long time and people she doesn’t recognise, she starts trying to put the pieces together on how they’re all connected, then suddenly it hits her she’s seeing all of his previous victims, all of the people he has ever killed. Sienna feels a hand on her shoulder pulling her from the vision she looks up and sees her father looking down at her, he smiles warmly and says ‘you can do this CeCe, i’ve always believed in you honey but this time you’re not alone’ she can feel a presence behind her and look back, standing there are the people from her vision family, friends and strangers each and every one of them here to help her end this for good. 

“Well it took you fucking long enough’ the familiar sarcastic tone belongs to none other than Brooke, oh my god Sienna whispers

 ‘Sienna we’re here for you’ Johnathan she breathes out 

‘Ok honey one last fight, we’ve got you’ her mom appears from behind her brother, Sienna looks at everyone and a brand new determination fuelling her fire, she grabs the sword and turns towards the clown a brand new expression graces his features, not anger nor humour but something brand new something she has never seen from him before….fear. He’s scared she realises. He’s not looking at Sienna instead he’s gaze is fixated on the ghost of his victims standing behind her, although Art was never one to back down from a fight he readies himself as much as possible but then the ghost ambush him tearing at him piece by piece, his mouth open as if he’s screaming he thrashes trying desperately to gain the upper hand but to no avail, he’s finally in the place he belongs he is at their mercy no amount of fighting is going to help this is his end. In the distance he can see Sienna she’s struggling but determined she has the sword in hand and is dragging herself over towards him, all he can do is lay there his injuries paralysing him, he smirks at her because even though he knows that he is about to meet his own demise but he also knows that with her injuries and being in hell her life force is slowly draining itself, ever determined Sienna using the last of her strength raises the sword and swings it down dealing the final blow needed to end this reign of terror. She looks down at the lifeless corpse in front of her flames begin to surround it his body turning to ash finally condemned to an eternity in hell.

Sienna looks back at the ghosts as they begin to surround her, she collapses feeling her life drain away her mom dad and brother sit next to her “its ok honey it over you can let go now’ the comforting voice of her mother filling her ears Sienna smiles to herself ‘I love you guys’ she whispers as her world fades to black.

[lususnatura]

❝ mm, good to know i'm still desirable in this dreaded gown i'm wearing. i mean, you look freaking fantastic yourself, but i wouldn't expect anything less from you considering you always do. but as for the functions, its just the usual boring up and down, ❞ blamore washed his hands as he scratched at some of the chicken of the woods mushrooms on his arms, the skin around them being itchy. it might've been tired but it matched the playful attitude that harley directed towards it; the creature admittedly feeling lucky at that moment that his partner was so understanding, even though that was honestly a 'bare minimum' type of thing in a relationship.

blamore just had to wonder how long it would take for him to heal from this punctured lung. i mean, he did have an enhanced healing factor, to the point where it could survive through being shot in the gut when that was pretty much a dead sentence without professional medical treatment. but blamore still had to actually fish out said bullet before and stitch himself up so no infection would occur. which, of course, all hurt a lot. it didn't want to worry harley any further, though, so it chose to not talk about what had happened for now and just continue joking around with her.

a snort left blamore's lips as he heard the other comment about how at least one of them was able to produce eggs, ❝ ahh, just you wait until i tell you that most plants have both male and female reproductive parts in the same individual. so, technically, many of them can't be entirely identified as male or female and they can self-pollinate. which honestly... actually fits me pretty well. because back whenever i was in graduate school, i began to sort of feel like being called a 'man' or being associated with masculinity in general didn't one hundred percent suit me. i had no idea what that could mean at first however. i thought that maybe i was just questioning myself because a bunch of people do while they're in college, but i don't think that's the case anymore. ❞

it looked at itself in the mirror for a moment as it reflected back to searching up the way in which it was feeling on the web and talking to several other members in its cohort (whom it felt it could trust enough to have those deep conversations with). blamore thought that maybe asking harley whether she'd had a similar experience might help ease them into talking about his gender, ❝ its like if one half of yourself felt like a woman, but the other part of you... you're not so sure about. have you ever been there before? ❞ blamore closed the door to the bathroom once he realized he hadn't done so before, shaking his head at the mention of seeing a specialist.

his tail moved to wrap around his body then only for it to move to have its front facing her, so she couldn't view his spine. blamore knew she was just trying to help, yes, but it thought that maybe the conversation could use a shift right now to harley. and even the mention of seeing a neurologist again made him want to shiver, ❝ no, no, i'm good. i don't need to go back to a neurologist for a long time. anyways, how are you feeling? are you feeling just a little peckish or starving? because i could order something right now through doordash, or something. ❞

blamore slipped over to where his clothes were, taking his boxer briefs in hand and slipping them on over his lower body; his gown giving him a sense of modesty for perhaps the first time. ❝ mm, nothing's scary about how my body is suddenly producing the plant seeds i've been searching for the formula to make for forever. no. this may actually be a good thing, and like i said, how are we feeling about food? ❞ blamore clasped his hands together in front of himself and put on his best smile to try to hide the fact that he was kind of horrified by the aspect that... with this, he might basically have no excuse not to get what he wants. because harley, as cliche as it may have sounded, had made him rethink whether what he wants is actually what he wants as he spent more and more time with her.

" Actually did some things for me and was about to ask how many functions that bed had," Harley jested. She would have given into urges had her partner not just underwent surgery. Balmore was relatively quick at healing but the fact he had a punctured lung seemed more problematic than the occasional sprain or stubbed toe.

Hearing him wash up made her relax more , though the context of what the seed appeared to be surprised her. She thought of what she personally would do in this situation, but they weren't entirely in the confines of their home to see results. It didn't seem right to tell him what to do as in the moment she wasn't able to engage on what he might have been experiencing.

" You know my humor well. I was gonna say something along the lines of at least one of us can produce an egg or I was gonna challenge you on tha' paternity, seeing as I'm not entirely a plant. Besides I haven't exactly pollenated with anyone whilst datin' you. Haven't had the care to. "

It was then she heard a hiss that made her wince and wonder had she gone too far. " Babe...I .."

When he came out she looked back seeing a branch in the sink.

"Sure ya' don't wanna see tha' specialist again? I mean... if you wanna walk 'en talk let me at least get yer' briefs," she said before moving to his side to help looking at discs and spacing along the extension of his spine.

" What's tha' scariest part right now?," she asked wondering what entirely was running in his head.

[fancifulplaguerat]

what if I wrote Isidor & Simon yaoi.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent life photos

[flowering-darkness]

okay note to self update my carrd tomorrow (or, well, today, given that it's gone midnight)

[fisheito]

moms at the sports game.....