#oh also now it’s more like knowing what pots is and finding something that matches your symptoms (thanks Jessica)

[lokilysolbitch]

god bless Jessica kellgren-fozard and any other disabled creator responsible for rewiring my brain at the age of like 15 so that learning im disabled and need mobility aids did not ever feel like a death sentence

[girlboypersonthingy]

omg i love your blog sm!! it’s been a while since ive been in the fandom and i didn’t think anyone wrote for vld anymore, ahhhh but i love the way you write!! you’re so so talented!! how do you think a love triangle sitch with keith and lance would play out? i love the both but UGHHHH THE DRAMA I LOVE IT😩😩

Oh my god thank you so much! I’m so flattered asfdafh 🥰🥹 I know the fandom is dead to most but not to all. I’m still here and voltron will always live on in my heart ❤️‍🔥 BRO THIS PROMPT??? PLZ ITS SO GOOD AAHHH ENJOY!

❤️Love Triangle💙

Okay first of all, these two would try to win you over IN COMPLETELY OPPOSITE WAYS.

Lance is, of course, over the top and very romantic and kind of cliche but so considerate and thoughtful and sweet.

Keith will be more nonchalant and mysterious, trying to use his skills and talents to impress you. He’s the type to slowly win you over by being very genuine and honest.

It started when Lance threw a pick up line your way and not only was the line terrible…but you actually laughed at it. It brought some pink to your cheeks as well. They both noticed that.

Lance was very smug about the fact that he made you giggle and blush.

Keith was a little annoyed at first, thinking Lance was just being his usual obnoxious self. So Keith just kept trying to make moves on you in his own way.

One day, Lance walked into the training room to see you and Keith sitting beside each other on the floor, breathing heavily as if you’d just decided to take a break. He couldn’t really hear what Keith was saying but you looked very focused, very into the conversation and you two were sitting just a little bit too close for his liking.

Lance didn’t like the eyes you were making at the red paladin

But Keith sure did. He was so excited to be sitting so close to you.

Then it’s like the spider man meme of them pointing at each other like 😧👉🏻 👈🏻😮

“Wait! You like (Y/N)? No no no, you can’t! I like (Y/N)!”

“Well I liked them first!”

“No! No! Dibs!”

“Really? Dibs?” *eye roll*

For the next week, they’re both acting like goofballs around you.

It’s kind of hilarious and very entertaining for you because…you notice that they start adopting each other’s ways of flirting and dropping hints. They do a little swap.

It’s like they think the other person has a better chance with you so they try to switch it up and copy each other. Lance thinks Keith’s ‘mysterious bad boy’ persona is something you’re into. Keith thinks you find happiness in all the silly, goofy things Lance does. So they both try to switch it up in hopes of making you fall for them. Does that make sense?

Imagine Keith trying to use a pick up line on you and failing miserably. He’s probably sweating through his shirt and his mouth is dry bc he’s so close to you, he can smell your shampoo. He’d end up stuttering and then getting really pissed at himself for looking dumb in front of you. May go back to his room and pout if he felt things didn’t go well.

Now imagine Lance trying to be all soft spoken and mysterious, trying to act cool. Lance trying not to talk too much is the equivalent of him holding his breath. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks character and says some dumb, cheesy shit that has you rolling your eyes. He awkwardly shuffles away to his room and also pouts bc he feels like he’s just loud and annoying.

The boys got into a yelling match about it once. The pot just boiled over and all you could do was watch.

That was their very shitty, joint confession of their feelings for you- them screaming about who likes you more, who liked you first, who you’re more compatible with, ect ect blah blah blah

All right in front of you

And all the while, the whole team is so confused

Cue Allura and Hunk stepping in between them because both their faces are turning red from anger and jealousy.

Everyone just looks at Shiro like 👀

Shiro, the dad of the group: 🙄😤 “fine…”

Shiro sits them both down for a long chat and by the end of it, the boys have come to terms with the fact that they both like you and not only is it your choice who you’d want to be with, but there’s a lot of other things to be worried about rn. They shouldn’t, and they won’t, pressure you.

Buuttttt…they do keep up some of the same things they like to do with you.

Keith still trains with you often (and he really enjoys helping you with your stance/posture bc he gets to be touchy✨)

Lance still invites you into his room to play video games (and he always seems out of breath when you sit so close to him, your arm touching his)

They try their best to control their temper around you and they try not to be around when you’re with the other person. They don’t need to see you being all close and personal with someone who isn’t them. :,(

The boys just continue to be their normal selves with you. They figure you should get to know them, the real them, before you make any decisions.

Yes, they both like you.

Yes. They’re both very competitive and very jealous.

But they respect each other and they respect you.

And we are in the middle of an intergalactic war right now, this is not a real priority.

They’ll give you some time and a pace to think about it.

Now comment on this post and tell me who you’d choose 😈 I love them both so so much but Lance is my soulmate for sure

[squerlly]

Fair Exchange Chapter 3

"broken people are dangerous because they know they can survive"

Alastor x (F! doe wife reader)

The Doe----------------------------------------------------

in the kitchen preparing Alastors morning coffee, I hear Charlie talking to Angel and vaggie about the recent extermination date. poor Charlie has been stressing over how the hotel hasn't gained any residents. I pour a fresh pot of coffee into Alastors favorite "Oh deer" mug before walking upstairs to the small balcony where he sits at a small glass table. I hand him his coffee before hearing a large crash, sir pentious has come back once again. Alastor sips his coffee seeming unamused, he takes one more sip before he fazes through the floor confronting Sir Pentious.

I rush downstairs heading to the front right beside Charlie and the others, watching as Alastor drags pentious and destroys his blimp all while laughing manically. sometimes I forget Alastor has always been a sadist, enjoying the pain of others for entertainment. I get bored, but Alastor has more gruesome ways of curing it. eventually, Alastor is done having fun letting Pentious fall to the floor in front of us "Thanks for another forgettable experience" he says twirling his microphone in his hands.

"thank you... for letting your guard down!!!" he pulls a piece of Alastors coat off before Alastor grows in size, angry that his favorite coat has been ruined. a large green explosion going off as Pentious flies out of range. Alastor summons his little demon minions to repair the hotel before heading off to the tailors, me following suit. the tailor that Alastor frequents is always close to cannibal town, but also close to the Vees district.

Alastor has never been a fan of technology, so he acts like he's still in "simpler times." I still dress like I'm in the 1950s but I learned to keep up with the new age. adaptation is important for a place like hell, it is important for survival. I get by because I have an overlord husband who is filthy rich from soul contracts, but others aren't so lucky. "you didn't have to accompany me" he says opening the door, suits and spare fabrics lined on shelves "I thought it would have been nice for me to tag along" he lets out a low hum "very well..."

I browse the shop while Alastor interacts with the tailor setting my sights on a suit that looks a lot like his usual, only the suit is all black with red lining. I can almost imagine him wearing it, the black bringing out Alastors pale brown skin and the red matching his hair. my cheeks dust pink as I let my thoughts linger, but they were short-lived when I felt a cold presence behind me. I turn seeing Alastor looking at me with a curious expression.

people always say that Alastor is unreadable and mysterious, hiding behind an unfaltering smile. but he isn't as unreadable as some may think "A-are you done?... That was fast" he stares at me for what feels like a minute more before answering "Yes, let us head back" he turns on his heel and walks out the door. we exit the tailors and I notice Alastors scowling at something, there is a window with TVs and a group of demons gathered to watch what looks like a news broadcast.

of course it's none other than Vox, he figured out that Alastor has finally made a public appearance after 7 years. I follow Alastor as he makes his way back to the hotel, static emitting from him that makes my ears throb. he and Vox have had an unmatched rivalry for years now, Alastor can talk your ear off about his radio career but not as much as he complains that Vox is a "flat-faced fool" It's almost hard to believe those two used to be friends. I find it quite funny that they go back and forth like children fighting over a toy, but that's practically what it is. Alastor doesn't want to accept the fact that times changed, while Vox doesn't want to accept that radio will always be superior to video and that's what makes them clash.

We arrive back at the hotel and Alastor immediately storms upstairs to his radio tower, I know better than to disturb him until the "on air" sign on his radio tower is off. so I wait out the storm letting him have his fit until he cools off. I take this opportunity to cool off myself instead, taking a seat on a stool at the mini bar "Hey Husker, how's it been" he looks up from the glass he's cleaning and shoots me an almost unnoticeable smile "Boss is gonna kill me if he catches you talking to me." I chuckle and shake my head "he's upstairs, you're safe."

Alastor never liked it when I talked to Husk, I never knew why but I also never questioned it "You look like you need a drink" he says sliding me a small glass. I'm not one for drinking, never did it when I was alive and never really did it now "Don't worry, it's nothing strong" I lift the glass to my lips taking a small sip. he was right it wasn't strong at all it was sweet "thanks husker" he nods and goes back to cleaning the counter before Angel walks over.

"Hey whiskers, mind pouring me a little somethin' to~" Husk grumbles but slides Angel a glass. "why are ya so nice to her but not me hmm?" "probably because she's not a pain in the ass like you" I stifle a laugh, Angel was right though, why was he so nice to me "Besides she doesn't deserve it..." I look up from my glass confused "What do ya mean by that" "She doesn't deserve it, especially when she's stuck with a dipshit like Alastor" "Husk don't-" "Uhh, am I missen somethin'?"

Angel looks at me and I look back at my glass with a frown "Haven't you paid attention, it's not that hard to tell" "Well then fill me in!!" husk looks around checking if there's anyone else around "Y/n is Alastors wife, just look at the ring on her finger" Angel look at both of us in disbelief "dark and creepy is married!? to her!!! there's no way.." everything goes so silent you could hear a pen drop.

"Angel you can't tell anyone!" "My lips are sealed but... how come iv never seen ya guys act married? he called you his friend" I was about to answer but Husker beat me to it "That's because she's more like his maid than his wife, he couldn't care less about her." I couldn't even argue with him, because deep down he was right. "she's been stuck with him since before I got down here, trapped in his house." Angel throws me a look of pity, one of his hands resting on my shoulder "I'm sorry tuts..." "That's ok Angel, it's not your fault."

the moment was interrupted when Charlie and vaggie got back, Charlie plopping onto the couch "Sooo, how'd it goooo?" vaggie stood beside her with a huff "Not a single new recruit" "Yeah well, who would wanna spend their last days not fucken and fighting" the conversation was cut short after vaggie heard a knock on the door.

upon opening it the snake demon Sir Pentious was at the door, vaggie punched him before holding him at weapon point but my attention was ripped away when Alastor started descending the stairs to see the commotion, I stood from the stool abandoning my glass and heading to his side.

knowing he was pretty upset about Vox's broadcast I didn't speak to him, just simply stood there in case he needed something. I now realize that husk was double right, I'm not Alastors wife I'm just his maid. but that won't stop me from doing the only thing I'm good at. My father always told me to be good, not to talk back to my husband, to make his life easier and you'll stay in a happy marriage. if only that had worked the first time...

"oh and Alastor, our gracious facility's manager!!! you've met him before" Alastor raises a brow before speaking "Ahh yes, your the one who ruined my coat... I defiantly remember you now~." Charlie tries to get Pentious to apologize to Alastor for his coat but Alastor being the sadist he is... "Uh ho not many people have been able to take even this much off me" he says holding the torn piece of crimson fabric "It must have meant quite a lot to you" Then with a grin he burns it at his fingertips.

Charlie went on to do a few trust exercises and get everyone to introduce each other, Alastor was bored throughout the whole thing while I watched from the sides.

eventually it was time for bed, in my room I slipped on a small nightgown. it was satin with lace around the neckline, it was one of my personal favorites from Rosie's and it was very comfortable. stopping a bit above my thighs it was more on the lingerie side but its sleepwear, nobody is going to see me right?

well, that was until I heard some commotion downstairs and me being curious I stepped into my slippers to investigate. apparently Pentious was supposed to put a spy camera from Vox Tek but ended up becoming a real patron at the hotel. when everyone left Alastor destroyed the last bit of technology then turned to me, I was still half asleep with messy hair and my no-no pj's on in slippers. I definitely made a fool out of myself...

but once again he just stood there looking at me, I couldn't tell if he was judging me or not. I should be judging him on why he's still fully dressed, but then again Alastor doesn't sleep.

he snaps his fingers and a robe materializes on me, covering my cold half-exposed body then leaves, becoming a shadow and disappearing into the darkness, leaving me in the hallway. but it left me thinking that maybe, just maybe Husk might have been wrong...

new chapter and I tried to make it longer, I spent a lot of time trying to change my writing style a bit to be short and detailed so it's more immersive. I hope you guys have enjoyed this series so far but like always stay tuned! love you guys have a wonderful day/night!!!

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz @kimmis-stuff

for more content please click this masterlist

[otakubimbo]

Sunday Dinner

Logan Howlett (Worse Logan) x AFAB Mutant Reader !

Slight Angst. SLOW Burn. Minors DNI!

You were preparing for your regular Sunday dinner when you get a few unexpected guests at your doorstep.

previous | next

Music flowed through your apartment as you busied yourself with making your Sunday dinner. A simple menu, pot roast, smashed potatoes, broccolini, and homemade gravy to go on top of everything. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to make a dessert, and you knew Wade was bound to complain about it, rolling your eyes preemptively at the future tantrum. Right as you were finishing up on the gravy, leaving it to simmer there was a knock at your door.

You excitedly went to open the door, you actually loved Sunday dinners, with a smile on your face you opened your door to see Al, Peter, Wade, …... and Logan.

“You don’t mind that I invited my lil honey badger. Ya know he's basically part of the family now anyway.”  Wade grins making his way into your apartment.

“I brought pie,” Peter says excitedly handing it to you as he also makes his way inside.

“that’s actually great because I didn’t have any time to make dessert.” You place the pie on the counter, waiting for the inevitable tantrum from Wade. It didn’t take more than a second for him to start his spiel about \how you must not love him anymore since you had forgotten about his favorite part Sunday dinner. “Oh, shut the hell up,” You comment as you begin to put everything in the serving dishes., “I got caught up at the studio, there's a gallery showing coming up soon and I was asked to submit some pieces. You can go one Sunday without a homemade dessert.”

Even with your very valid excuse, Wade acts as if you’ve shot him multiple times.

“Your dumb ass lucky she still invites you over. Don’t worry about that jackass. But if you ever need some inspiration, you know where to find me. “Al tells you, knowing that she’s definitely talking about doing drugs. You giggle softly and thank her.

“Gallery?” Logan surprisingly asks and you’re taken aback, almost forgetting that he was here.

“Ah yes, our lil matter-of-fact is a painter. She gotta pay the bills somehow, even though I've been told her that with a body like that she can get a lot more money elsewhere” Wade interjects before you get to respond, throwing his arm over your shoulder which you push off with a scowl. 

“And I’m a freelance artist, I have some of my paintings around the house.” You say trying to sound confident in your creations, you don’t know why he's making you feel shy, you had so much pride in your art. There was a piece of you in every painting you did, a page from the story of your life.  Logan didn’t move from his seat, but his eyes wandered around the room, taking in the paintings that graced your walls, some of your more happy-inspired pieces. But there was one that particularly caught his eye, a painting truly straight from your own heart. His gaze was locked on that one for longer than you would have liked, he almost looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t. Luckily for you, there was another knock on your door.

“Anyways that’s probably Cat, she said she was going to try to make it, she had deadlines for her column that she needed to finish.” You wipe your hands on the frilly apron that you’re wearing, Logan smirks at your appearance, that apron didn’t match you at all, but it was cute.

As you open the door with a bright smile on your face to greet your friend, you are face to face with not your friend at all. It was the face of your ex-boyfriend, the one who cheated on you and whom you haven’t contacted since you found out.

“I knew you would be home. I need to talk to you.” Caleb looks at you, then past you to the guests in your apartment then back to look at you.

“The offer to cut his dick off still stands,” Wade says from his position at the dinner table, making you sigh, pushing Caleb out of your doorway and shutting the door behind you.

“What are you doing here Caleb?” You question as your brow furrows, hands balled to your sides.

“We need to talk, and you won’t answer my calls or texts.” He huffs as if he should be the one who’s annoyed by this circumstance.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We are over, that’s it” You fold your arms over your chest in an attempt to protect yourself somehow.

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” He rubs his face in frustration, “You know how difficult it is being with you, and it just took a toll on me for a minute and I made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” You ask, attempting to keep your voice level, not trying to garner any of the attention from your guests inside, “You slept with Liz, how the hell is that a mistake???”

“You don’t understand.”

“There is nothing to understand, you need to leave.”

He groans again at your difficulty to speak to him about this, “Just hear me out for fucking once, I was under a lot of stress and then having to deal with your stuff on top of that. It’s a lot, you’re a lot. I just needed a little stress relief; you have to be able to understand that.” So this was your fault? You were the reason he cheated on you because you were so difficult to be with, but then why was he here? For your forgiveness? To get back with you? Fuck, you didn’t even care because it felt like you were about to break. You didn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him.

“Leave, Caleb.”

“Ugh you’re not listening to me; this is one of the problems right here.”

Before you can tell him to go again, you feel the warmth of a chest on your back and a hand making you take a step back into your apartment.

“I think you’re not listening to her bub; she told you to leave” Logan basically growls at your ex. A little shaky you look up at Logan, his jaw is set tight, and he looks right pissed, your gaze then falls back onto Caleb who takes a scared step back.

Caleb looks between the two of you, and scoffs laughing bitterly, “Looks like you moved on quickly” he turns his attention to Logan, “Don’t waste your time with her, she’s dangerous and damaged goods, no fixing that one.” His last comment before Logan slams the door in his face, going back to his spot at the table.

It takes a moment to process all that just happened, but you shake yourself out of it quickly, “Anyways, let's go ahead and eat I put too much work into this to get cold.” You put on your fakest smile as you sit down and start serving yourself. It’s clear someone wants to say something.

“So that offer about his dick.”

“Shut it Wade” Logan growls as he follows your lead, reading the room surprisingly well, “You got anything good to drink?”

“Uhm yeah,” you say as you get up, wiping your hands on your apron again before taking it off, this made Logan notice the tattoo you had on the back of your shoulder. The X-Men symbol, so you really did use to be one, interesting. You smiled as you pulled out a bottle from your alcohol fridge, you preferred your drinks chilled.

“Okay so this is a rum, but it was aged in a whiskey barrel, I think you’ll really like it.” You say as you pour him a glass, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“We will see,” Logan responded, and you just sat back with a confident smirk as he took a sip. He hums after the first taste, “Not bad” he raises the glasses towards you.

“Told you, “You smile for real this time and dinner commences.

Eventually, everyone leaves and now it’s just you and your thoughts. You sigh as you clean up your place, wash and put away dishes and Caleb’s words stay on your mind. The way he blamed you for his actions and there was a part of you that actually thought the same. After finishing cleaning, you grab your emergency pack of smoke and make your way outside. You didn’t smoke often, you tried not to at the very least, even if you were a mutant that had some regenerative powers, they weren’t perfect, and smoking was still terrible for you.

As you light your cigarette, stepping outside your apartment building you spot Logan, leaning on the rail smoking a cigar.

His eyes catch yours, as you take your first drag, “You smoke?”

“Occasionally, what are you doing out here?” You ask as you stand across from him.

“Too much Wade.” Which makes you snort before taking another drag, “And you?”

“Too much thinking,” you say casually, he just hums in understanding. The two of you stand in silence, a sense of ease coming over you as you finish up your cigarette. You take your last inhale, throwing the butt to the ground and stepping on it before going to head back inside. Before you can open the door, Logan grabs your attention.

“He’s wrong you know,” Logan states nonchalantly.

“What?”

“He’s wrong about you, you don’t seem like damaged goods. I would know. Everyone has their demons.”

You don’t know whether it was the cigarette or his words making you feel lightheaded, but your face softens, and you give him a small smile, “no, he is right but that’s okay, good night, Logan”

As you go to walk inside Logan grabs your arm to stop you, he drops it almost in an instant as he feels a strange scar on your wrist. Your gaze tells him you don’t want him to ask but the feeling of the scar has a question on the tip of his tongue. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t ask, and leaving him behind with questions.

[syrupfog]

AU where Sanji never actually left Germa, and Judge made him a test subject early on, successfully getting rid of his empathy after years of torture.

But like, he has those years of bullying from his brothers first, and his empathy’s gone but his anger’s still there. Also with no Zeff, he fights with his fists and doesn’t treat women Like That. Because Zeff’s the one who instilled in him to never hit a woman (and made it weird but that’s not the point).

He’s out on some mission in the Grand Line when he runs into the Straw Hats and he sees Zoro’s green hair and associates it with Yonji and he just haaaates him on sight.

The fight is super evenly matched and Zoro manages to knock him out eventually but he’s like what’s the guy’s DEAL. Wtf is his problem.

Maybe Law’s with them when it goes down and he recognizes that costume and fanboys…

Oh actually yeah— Law’s with them! And after Zoro knocks him out, Law goes into Creepy Surgeon Mode and is like for the love of god please let me get my fingers in that chest cavity

And everyone else (bar Robin ofc) is like Σ（ﾟдﾟlll）

But Law gets a room going and finds all sort of odd Germa technology literally implanted in him and starts pulling it out and messing with it and suddenly Sanji wakes UP and he’s— he’s scared. And overwhelmed. He’s in real time having to reckon with years of torturing people.

And Law’s like oh the emotional part of this is not in my pay grade this is not my job anymore and dips.

So Sanji’s there in the Sunny’s infirmary like “I’m a monster I need to be put down oh my god” and Luffy shows up like HEY you’re cool as hell join my crew.

Zoro is not a fan of this option and also it turns out neither is Sanji BUT sanji has nowhere to go so he makes a deal to sail with them until the next habitable island. So Zoro watches him like a hawk bc he’s like “you’re definitely faking this and are gonna turn evil and try to kill people again right”

But instead he just keeps finding Sanji being really pathetic and sad and looking longingly at the kitchen (Robin doubles as the cook and her food is damn near inedible but that’s just the life of a pirate innit)

Late one night Zoro comes off watch and he sees Sanji sneaking into the kitchen and he thinks OH he’s going to try to POISON US so he sneaks in after him and confronts him, swords and all. And Sanji, who knows what an awful person he’s been and knows he deserves death, just starts crying and is like “yeah you can kill me just let me cook one thing once I just want to remember what it feels like”

So Zoro lets him cook, and is like yeah I’m killing you after this, and Sanji spends a long time sniffling as he re-familiarizes himself with pots and pans and spices and knives and ends up making something garlic-y and delicious that smells strong enough to wake up the crew, and everyone traipses in enraptured by the smell. So Sanji serves them and Zoro tries it first because if it’s poisoned he’s not letting EVERYONE go down. But it’s not poisoned and it’s really good, and anyway Zoro can’t kill him now in front of everyone.

But three nights later the same thing happens— he sees Sanji sneaking into the kitchen and follows him and Sanji says “I know you should’ve killed me last time but you couldn’t, I get that, but I’m dangerous. So let me cook just one more time and then you can kill me.”

And it doesn’t happen of course. Everyone comes in and everyone eats and Zoro watches Sanji recover a little of himself.

And so it goes. At first every few nights and then every other night, and then every single night.

And whenever Zoro comes in, Sanji says, I know I deserve to die but let me cook just one more thing.

And at some point Zoro stops thinking about killing Sanji. He’s a part of the crew now. He’s proving himself, and anyway Zoro can beat him and hold him down and Law can reverse whatever it is again if needs be.

So it’s just a thing they do. Zoro lightly threatens him and Sanji begs for his life and they move on. It’s routine but it doesn’t actually MEAN anything anymore.

That is, until one really bad night where Sanji doesn’t show up in the kitchen like he always does, and Zoro goes looking and finally finds him deep in the steerage, and Sanji says, “I can’t keep living like this, please just kill me. I can’t keep living knowing I’m going to die the next day.”

And Zoro’s like ???? You’re not gonna die the next day wtf

And Sanji says, please, just get it over with.

Zoro realizes that Sanji has continued all this time assuming Zoro really is coming to kill him every night

But it’s been MONTHS at this point. Surely he wouldn’t still think—

But Sanji’s wracked with more than a decade’s worth of guilt, is so sure he deserves the worst the world possibly has to offer.

Too bad Zoro’s a little in love with him at this point. And says anyone who wants to kill Sanji will have to go through Zoro first.

Which Sanji DOESNT UNDERSTAND and he doesn’t understand the kiss Zoro follows it up with, but he returns it. Greedily.

Because as much as he knows he deserves death, he also relishes every moment of life, every chance to feel the emotions he wasn’t allowed. And Zoro goes from jailer to protector in his mind. Slowly. Hesitantly.

He spends years working through the trauma, decades really, but the simplicity with which Zoro sees the world helps. Zoro doesn’t blame him. Zoro loves him. Sanji doesn’t know much but he knows he’ll defend this ship that saved him with his life.

And he knows Zoro wouldn’t let Sanji defend HIM with his life, because Zoro views his life as precious and important.

Which is something Sanji is still learning.

He’ll get there.

[cyverrieee]

ＣＹＶＥＲ ＦＩＬＥＳ

𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝙰𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙰𝚣𝚞𝚕

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚૮꒰˵•ᵜ•˵꒱ა‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷

➳ 01 : I love the little mermaid growing up so

for real, it gave me some ideas from @thecoolsquirrel 's post (hehe) ANYWAYS I love Azul sm. I altered the plot to match Azul's backstory or smth-

➳ 02 : Contains random merpeople names😝

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚૮꒰˵•ᵜ•˵꒱ა‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐭

— ... —

Growing up, Azul never had friends before middle school. He was seen as the odd one out because of his chubby stature and eight legs. He would always stay in his pot because he's scared. Scared that someone would talk bad about him, that is—before he met the two leech twins. He had fun with them, standing up for Azul to stop his bullies

At that time, he was studying everything he can get from the school library. He won't lie; he's interested in land dwellers but where he lives. They despise them, they ruin their homes and take stuff from the reefs! Azul's mother even hated them more. She always told Azul to never go to the surface because "who knows what danger lies in land", yes it's true. He doesn't know anything about the land as much but he's curious enough for a peep! He started collecting the stuff the land dwellers drop in sea.

“Haaa? What's this?”

Floyd talked, Jade looking at the different items that Azul hoarded in his secret collection room. Floyd holds a danglehopper (a fork), doing random stuff to see it's purpose.

“Oh well.. I'm not sure! But the white Bird from the surface told me it's something land dwellers use to comb their hair”

Azul explained like the nerd he was, adjusting his glasses in the process. Jade looks at his brother who was combing his hair with the "danglehopper". The three metal bristles smoothly brush through Floyd's sleek teal locks. He was in awe by it, Jade only laughs in amusement

“Hey 'zul! Mind if I keep it?”

Floyd yelled, Azul sighed playfully with a pout

“I knew you were gonna say that. But sure.. ”

Azul murmured, Floyd flicks his eel tail with glee. Jade looks around and finds a box full of silver and gold circular objects. The calmer leech twin grabs one from the box. It shimmered a golden hue— Jade clicked a small button on the front of the weird circular object. The top flung open showing a long hand and a small hand. Azul saw Jade's interest towards the circular metal objects

“I haven't named those things yet. The white Bird also told me that land dwellers use these to tell time"

He muttered, Floyd let out a small "ahhh" at the explanation. Jade nodded and asked in interest.

“Mind if i take something like this?”

Azul agreed, Jade thanked Azul for letting him have one of these circular shiny objects. Dawn hit— and the twins returned back home with Azul, Azul has always hid his secret interest of Land Dweller items from his parents; knoeing them, they won't be happy if they knew this.

The silver haired octopus sat with his family for dinner. Azul's mother was talking with his father, leaving Azul all silent, but he prefered that since he was busy thinking of a way to get some more information in Land Dwellers. Him and his parents did have some small talks before and after dinner, but after that– Azul just goes to his room to think of ways to learn about humans. Even til now he was interested in them..

He wont lie, he kind of dreams for a partner in his life. Its a dream— he knows that, knowing him being an octopus that no one wants. He just didn't have the time to believe in that fairy tale of his. Well before he met such a charming young royal who fell of their ship..

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚૮꒰˵•ᵜ•˵꒱ა‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷

➥ 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲'𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬! 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧. 𝐔𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 :(

! ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ! ᴅʀɪɴᴋ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴀᴛ ғᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴄᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢʟʏ !

ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ sᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ!

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ!

Chapter 2 ->

[toska-writes]

“Shiny”

Summary: After a few complains from worried troopers your master ordered armor for the 2 of you. And now some boy were excited to help you customize!

Paring: Cody+212th x Reader (guess what?!? Plaaaaaaaaatonic!!! WOO)

Warning: None! Just teeth rotting fluff!

Word Count: 1375

Read here on ao3! (✩)

You wouldn’t say your reckless on the battlefield, nor was your master Obi-Wan Kenobi. It just seemed when it came down to it all you were shot at a lot.

Like all the time.

So after a few bullets caught in the ribs or the arms here and there worried some troopers of the well being of their beloved Commander and General.

*Cough cough Cody cough*

Your comm buzzed as you made your way to the training rooms to meet your master, it was odd though because you were supposed to meet with Obi-wan later for your scheduled training.

“Hello master. Cody” You waved to them both already eyeing the boxes that layer by their feet. “What’s this? I though training wasn’t until 01600.” You stopped in front of the two.

Obi-wan let out a laugh and then explained. “We finally got our shipment in, apparently the GAR thought it be a good idea for some armor for the two of us Y/N” He with the help of Cody opened the two packages. “Even if it’s minimal it’s still better then none.”

“You can say that again.” Cody said under his breath.

“Aww Cod’ika gets nervous when we’re shot at.” You joked bumping arms with him.

Obi-wan passed you a breast plate with shoulder coverage as well, some arm and hand braces were included. He himself also had a set similar.

Your mouth hung open as you ran a hand over the white plaster. All the possibilities running through your head.

The awe clearly showed on your face and for the second time your master laughed. “Please go enjoy decorating it Y/N it’s lovely to see you this happy.” Obi-wan placed a hand on your shoulder

You bowed slightly trying not to drop everything you had in your hands and smiled at Cody hoping he would follow you.

“Everyone is quite excited to help with the painting.” Cody strolled next to you. “It’ll be good to touch up our own armor as well.”

You laughed as you started to run a little faster down the hall, making Cody try to keep up with you.

“Slow down there Shiny before you drop something.”

You turned to look at him. “Oh no don’t you start that-“

Cody’s cheerful laugh cut through your sentence. “Sorry sir buts it’s the perfect opportunity.”

You rolled your eyes as the pair of you turned down one more corridor and were finally met with the doors to the 212th barracks.

“Hey commander.” You herd Boil as he started to lay some tarps around the floor of the conman room.

You saw Trapper watching from a perch on one of the couches “We don’t want anything getting ruined now do we.”

Boil and Crys joined the commotion in the room arguing quite loudly as they fought over what seemed to be a can of paint.

“No no the shades all wrong! It’s brighter than that.”

“Are you color blind or something Vod? Maybe got hit one too many times?”

You laughed at the too rolling your eyes simultaneously with Cody.

You finally dropped all the fresh armor on the trap after Waxer finally got it nice and smooth.

Wooley, Longshot, and Gearshift all stumbled into the room, arms filled with piles of armor. Some were definitely in better shape than others.

You flashed them an excited smile with everyone joining you around the pot of orange paint that was so special to the entire battalion.

Peel finally joined the group with extra colors such as red, white, and black.

“Now let’s get started.” Cody clapped and everyone dug through the pile to find their own individual armor.

You grabbed the center piece and started at it for a moment. Carefully you reached for a paintbrush, chatter from your brothers around the room filled your ears.

“You know cyare if you wanted I could help you make your own sun design and then we could match.” Cody suggest grabbing a paint brush of his own.

“I love that idea Kotes!” You smiled back finally getting brave enough to dip your brush into the orange paint.

Waxed and Boil chimed in. “Could we do a form arm brace if the commanders getting the chest plate?”

“Of course, and if anyone else wants to do the other feel free.” You added. The brush touched down on the white, you mapped out half a circle at the cut off that would be right about your belly button.

One more stroke, then another. “Kriff.” You swore quickly, a rouge line got away from you.

“Woah there shiny need some help.” Waxer leaned over your shoulder.

“Really everyone’s doing that now?” You asked in question of the nickname.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Waxer questioned again now bending down, grabbing your paint brush to assist you.

You watched him for a moment before he went back to work on the other part of the set with Boil again.

About a quarter inch above the half circle you made another think line, making a ring.

Cody joined now in the painting of the rays that matched his own sunshine. At one point even Wooley joined trying to speed up the process.

You looked up to see that Waxer and Boil now finished their respective brace, it was in the geometric points that adorned the patterns of their own armor.

The other brace was being occupied by Gearshift who was painting a small ring of yellow that would circle the area where you could put your comm.

The armor was coming together now, every seemed to be just finished up their touch-ups when you announced ‘done’ very proudly.

“Wow it’s looking good commander.” Trapper smiled.

“Yea not bad for your first time Shiny.” Crys laughed with his brother.

“Now how longs that gonna last? Hmm?” You questioned leaning back into Cody as the armor had to dry.

“At least until the first campaign you wear it in.” Cody explain. “Until then your the teams new Shiny.”

The woosh of mechanical doors made everyone freeze. “Huh it seems the council meeting made me miss all the fun.” Obi-wan came to sit down beside you a Cody, resting a hand on the other man’s thigh.

Chatter filled the air once again as the group waited for the paint to finish drying on all of them.

After some time passed your master said. “Well now Y/N I hope you plan on trying it on for us.”

You couldn’t agree more, just up from your spot of the floor you rushed to the newly dried armor and slipped the first piece over your head. The clasp in the front was definitely easier than the ones in the back, thankfully Longshot was there to click them in for you.

The left shoulder covering was designed with the Jedi Order symbol in red matching the one your master also had. The other was the same stark white that you started with.

You slipped on the arm and fore arm piece each side coming together nicely.

Some cheers went up around the room as you spun round for them all to see.

“Now where’s the lightsaber holder on that one?” Cody quipped.

Obi-wan leaned into him to try and suppress his laughter.

The armor felt right, how you fought so many battles before without it was insane.

“Oh one more thing.” You added before you forgot, unhooking the front chest piece you laid it in the middle of the room. “Everyone needs to sign it.” You pointed to the empty backside still without marking.

Obi-wan and Cody were the first the sign. The Boil, followed by Waxer in what could be argued as an obnoxiously large font.

Soon everyone finished there signature, some neater than others but it was the different personality’s they all had that really blew you away. No it was just to get the other troopers that weren’t here to sign it as well.

“It looks pretty good for a shiny.” Cody came up to you as you clicked the armor back into place, he did the same with his own.

The two of you stood side by side, the painted suns never seemed brighter

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Part 3 Here

Part IV

Thickfreakness

“Who is the bloke with the tats?”

Pots and pans were banging together in the background. Feyre was ‘cooking’. Every Sunday they had lunch at one of their homes–dad’s Soho mansion, Nesta’s Notting Hill flat, Elain’s Russell Square Georgian manor, or Feyre’s bohemian Camden loft. 

“Okay, I want to make salmon en croute,” Feyre announced boldly and Elain’s heart fell at the words.

Her younger sister wasn’t what one would call a ‘cook’. And she knew that about herself. Yet it never stopped her from experimenting–wildly–in the kitchen. 

“Fey, that might be somewhat ambitious,” Elain cautioned her.

“Why? How hard can it be?”

“Perhaps it’s not difficult, but it is somewhat time consuming and requires a decent amount of prep. Why don’t you go with something easier, like Shepherd's Pie? Or a nice fish pie?”

“Nooo, it’s so boring,” Feyre moaned loudly. Elain chose not to remind her that salmon en croute and fish pie were basically the same thing in essence. 

“Okay, well, if you want to venture the en croute route, then good luck!”

“But what if I don’t do it right and it all falls apart?” Feyre whined.

“That’s why you should do something simpler. And no, Fey, I am not going to cook Sunday lunch in case you fail,” Elain warned.

“Ugh, Ela-aaaii–nnn,”

“No. Make fish pie. That’s it.”

“Don’t try to weasel out of the question! Who is the guy with the tats holding Piggy?”

“It’s Piglet. Not Piggy.”

“And?”

“He is a client,” Elain said calmly. 

“What kind of client?!” Feyre pressed excitedly. “You usually don’t have clients with tattoos! And that arm!” she gushed. “What does he do? Tell me! Come on! Is he hot? He is hot, isn’t he? An arm like that is attached to a hot man. And Piggy sleeping like that on him. Aww. Aww. Aww. Piggy never likes anyone–I don’t even think he likes me! I pet him and he looks like he is suffering. But the sexy arm bloke–Piggy is sleeping on that arm like a baby. Do you know the story about the scars? I bet it’s something incredible! Like he was saving a baby from a burning house. Or maybe he flipped a car over to pull a granny out of a burning vehicle,”

“You seriously need to calm down,” Elain interrupted her. “I am growing concerned for you. And for my sanity.”

“I demand you tell me!”

“He is an athlete,” Elain relented just a bit. 

“I knew it! A footballer? A rugby player? What is he?”

“A sumo wrestler,” Elain teased, only to throw her sister into a complete tizzy.

“I hate you! Can you set me up with him?”

“No,” Elain said immediately. 

“Why not? What’s wrong with me?” Feyre demanded.

“You aren’t his type,” Elain cut her off. This conversation irritated her. She didn’t want to think of her sister and Azriel Night. Just no. Azriel was a headache, but he was her headache.

“What is he looking for? What is he like?”

Elain exhaled, thinking about the question.

“He…well, he is the most annoying and impossible man I’ve ever encountered. He is by far my worst client, and I’ve dealt with some doozies,” she complained loudly and passionately. “He is so rude and, and…he is just no good.”

“No good?” Feyre repeated. “That’s what you managed to come up with? No good?”

“He is no good. He is not articulate. I asked him what woman appeals to him and he says ‘pretty’. He isn’t taking this seriously at all. He is probably wasting my time, but I have no choice but to work with him. He signed the contract–which I had hoped he wouldn't. And now I am stuck with him. 

“Anyway. I am going to find him the best possible match–someone he wouldn’t be able to say ‘no’ to and then he’ll be out of my hair! Forever. And he also made comments about my body!”

“What kind of comments?”

“Said I had nice breasts.”

“Oh, that’s the worst! When a man tells you that you are beautiful and have a nice rack,” Feyre fake-sympathised with Elain. “That is tough.”

“Gah. Quiet. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

There was more clatter in the background and finally, after a string of curses, Feyre said,

“You are certain you want to find him the best match possible?”

“Of course!” Elain cried. “I take pride in my work.”

“Oh I know. Only I’ve never heard you talk about any client at length and neither did you ever get so passionate about how much you hate them.”

“It’s because I do hate him!” Elain insisted, before relenting and correcting herself. “Well, I don’t hate him. Why would I hate him? I am just exasperated with him. His whole persona is…just ugh,” 

“Is he a yob?”

“No. Nothing like that,” Elain disagreed. “He isn’t walking around in a tracksuit with a shaved head. He dresses nicely. He is definitely not…”

“What?”

“Well, he thinks that I am posh,”

“You are posh!” Feyre laughed. “We are pretty darn posh, Elain. Daddy is a Knight, remember?” Elain sighed and murmured, “how can we forget?”

“And then the Duke of Velaris,”

“We are not discussing that.”

“Well, then you are posh to him, especially if he is a boy from the East End.  And I reckon he isn’t posh to you?”

“He is from the East End. There are traces of Cockney in his speech. And it doesn’t matter…I don’t care about any of that. Professionally speaking, I don’t make distinctions based on someone’s origins or class.”

“Nevertheless, he doesn’t sound like your normal client,” Feyre said.

“He isn’t. He is difficult and everything with him is a challenge.”

“Well have you considered that maybe in the end, the reward will be great?”

Elain chuckled and said, “I am not sure what constitutes ‘great reward’ in this situation. Pawning him off to some poor unsuspecting woman who doesn’t know what she is getting herself into?”

“The women you work with usually can handle a complicated man,” Feyre reminded her. “They are man eaters.”

Elain sighed. 

“Give my love to Piggy,” Feyre chirped. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“Good luck with en croute. And it’s Piglet. You know, you are like Az-,” she stopped abruptly, catching herself right before she blurted out a client’s name. 

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. You are just like my new impossible client. He refuses to call Piglet by his name!”

Feyre laughed at that. “What does he call him?”

“Pinky. It’s not Piggy or Pinky. It’s Piglet!”

“I actually like Pinky! I think it’s a good alternative.”

“Ugh, maybe I will set you two up. You fit right up.”

“Ooohh yeah! I am ready when you are.”

Elain snorted at her ludicrous sister and threw “bye, you nincompoop!”

“There is an old lady dying somewhere inside of you!” Feyre yelled back.

Elain leaned back in her armchair. It’s been a long night. A long week. 

Feyre was right. Elain was an old lady. It was Thursday night and she wasn’t at the pub or a bar. She wasn’t hanging out with her girlfriends. She was alone, in her office.

She ran her finger over the phone’s screen, bringing it to life. Clicked on the Photos. And clicked on the one that she kept staring at for the past two days. Azriel Night, his expression softer than usual, looking down at Piglet in his arms. 

She had cropped the top of it obviously, before posting it on IG. It was only Piglet in the circle of muscular, tattooed arms. She titled it simply ‘Making New Friends’ #puglyfe #Pigletthepug and the photo received 368K likes, and over 55K comments, mostly about whose arms these were and who was Piglet’s ‘new friend’. 

She should’ve deleted the photo from her phone.

She should have. There was absolutely no reason to keep it. It served its purpose, it was all the rage on Piglet’s page and there was no further use for it. Her finger had hovered over the delete button for two days now, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it. Why? Because Piglet looked so good and comfy? That had to be the reason.

She was definitely going to delete it tomorrow.

-

It was Friday night, and Elain was ready for some pampering. At least this was her excuse for not going out on a Friday night yet again. But she had a busy week and she was owed a little time to herself. 

It was half past eight, and she just sunk into her favourite armchair in her bedroom with her e-reader. Piglet was on the bed, with her phone propped for him, dog videos playing with the sound low. Whenever he liked what he saw, he emitted a satisfied growl, which resembled a cackle. Therefore, even though she was immersed in her book, his angry growl got her attention, because it was followed by the distinctive ping of FaceTime.

Who the hell was FaceTiming her at this time? Also, she rarely video chatted with anyone anyway. 

She stretched, almost falling out of the chair, but managed to grab the phone, almost getting her finger bit by her disgruntled dog. 

“Hell-...o,” her voice died as she was faced with none other than Azriel Night. 

He looked like he was in bed, his face sharp and as handsome as ever, but not as tense as what she was used to. The man’s appearance was both his blessing and his curse. He was outrageously good looking, his face both elegant and perfect, but also typically inscrutable and emotionless. He was not a good person to read facial cues off, and that made it difficult for Elain to understand whether he was serious or not, pleased or displeased, happy or angry or sad. 

“Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match

Find me a find

Match me a match!”

Azriel sang to her. 

Her mouth was hanging open.

His voice was…nice. Husky. Sexy. And he sang well, which literally made no sense whatsoever. But he did?

“A girl’s night in, I see?” he asked, smirking. “And here I thought you’d be hitting the clubs. Bumping and grinding,”

“No one says ‘bumping and grinding’ anymore,” Elain told him. 

“Yeah, I know. But I just brought it back and made it cool again,” he announced nonchalantly.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Why are you ringing me on a Friday evening? How did you even get this number?”

“Ms. Archeron, you gave me the number,” he reminded her. 

“No I didn’t!”

“No, you most certainly did.”

Thinking back to the last time he was at her office, Elain recalled what had transpired and cringed inwardly. She couldn't believe that she gave him her personal number!! She never did this. She always, always gave her clients her business number and never picked up on the weekends.

“Fine,” she admitted her oversight. “I gave you the number. Why are you ringing me?”

Azriel made himself comfortable against the pillow, and it stuck Elain just how intimate this was–both of them on camera, in their respective bedrooms, late at night. This was highly, highly irregular.

“Couple of reasons really,” he said casually. “Firstly, I know my schedule for next week and therefore, I wanted to book your time,”

“You make it sound like I am a hooker,” she winced, wrinkling her nose.

“Naw. You’d make the worst hooker in history,” he chuckled and Elain gasped at the audacity of her words. “Maybe as a matchmaker you are managing, but as a hooker,” he tsked. “No chance.”

“And why is that?”

“You challenging me on that, Ms, Archeron?”

“Simply curious.”

“Easy. You like things done your way–obsessively. You are a control freak,”

“Oh, back to insults I see,”

“I ain’t insulting you, matchmaker. Just stating facts. And a hooker’s job is to do the things that the client tells her to do. So there is that.”

“Oh, phew. I am not terribly broken up because according to Mr. Night I won’t make a successful prostitute.

“Besides this odd conversation, anything else?”

He thought for a moment and then grinned, exposing his perfect teeth. He looked so handsome when he smiled it was unfair. Unfair to all men.

“Guess what I am doing?” he teased.

“Lounging about, by the looks of it,” Elain shrugged. She feigned indifference, but Azriel could see through it–she was curious.

“Take a guess,” he encouraged her. “Come on. Humour me!”

Elain bubbled her lips and finally said,

“Probably eating or drinking something.”

“Yes!” he nodded and then reached and showed her two biscuits.

“Are those the same ones?” she gasped.

“Sure are!” he winked at her and then stuffed both in his mouth. Chewing with comical energy, he chomped and said, “nom, nom, nom’.

At that, Elain burst into laughter, like she couldn’t help herself.

“You are mad!” she cried. “I can’t believe you are still eating these!”

“Why? they are really good,” he insisted. “Delectable. And I think you might have to bake some more for our next meeting.”

“Or is that so?”

“It is so.”

“I suppose I should,” she conceded. “I can’t believe that you just pulled a ‘nom, nom’...So you wouldn’t have to drag them with you all over the country.”

Azriel paused, looking at him, slightly perplexed.

“Do you know where I am?” he asked at last.

Elain thought for a second, then simply told him, “Manchester”.

His face dropped and he glared at her in shock.

After a long pause, where she enjoyed his surprise and confusion, he finally asked, “How do you know?”

“Arsenal is playing Manchester United tomorrow–in Manchester. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Wait. Are you telling me that you like football?”

“Is it really so far-fetched that I might?” she inquired, relishing in her victory. 

“Wait a minute,” he even sat up in his bed, staring at the phone. “Wait. What is your team?” he demanded roughly. “And if you say Chelsea…Well, I don’t know what I’d do, but it would be something bad!”

She laughed. 

“You are mental.”

He didn’t react to the insult, other than asking roughly,

“What. Club. Ms. Archeron?”

“Tottenham, if you must know. With Arsenal not far behind. You ought to know that the Duke of Velaris,”

“Oh yeah, Granny Elain’s hot piece on the side,” Azriel chuckled, “what’d he do?”

“Being a military man,” Elain said, ignoring his quip, “he helped in the formation of Arsenal with the armoury workers. Better that they played ball than got drunk on gin.”

“So I am indirectly connected to your Duke? Captaining his team?”

“It’s not his team, and he isn’t my Duke, but he did love my gran.”

Azriel considered it and then murmured, “the plot thickens, doesn’t it? So, my stats that you rattled out the first day? You knew who I was? All that info?”

“Of course,” she shrugged. “I mean, the height and the weight I got from the roster. But I knew your background and who you were.”

“Well, well,” he complained, “that doesn’t seem fair at all.”

“What doesn’t?”

“That you know all these things about me, and I know very little about you.”

“That’s not unfair,” Elain argued. “That’s normal. I need to know things about you, but you don’t need to know anything about me.”

“I beg to differ. Like, I don’t even know what your success rate is? In your matchmaking? Maybe you're piss poor awful? I doubt it, but what if,”

“I am not piss poor awful, Mr. Night. I am very successful.” With some pride in her voice, she added,  “I’ve worked with 88 couples. You are my 89th client. Out of the 88, I’ve had, so far, 81 marriages.”

“Shiiit,” Azriel whistled.

“3 couples did not work out, unfortunately. The rest are still dating. I am quite good at what I do, Mr. Night. I’ll find you a fine wife.”

“Ughehhh,” he breathed.

“What?”

“Wednesday afternoon, are you free?” he asked instead.

“Why? Is that when you are available?”

“Yes. But I’d like to take you out,”

“Mr. Night,” she started immediately, but he interrupted her,

“Not a date, Ms. Archeron. Calm the fuck down. You ain’t my type,”

“About 5 days ago, you literally said that you wanted your wife to look and act like me. Make up your mind, Mr. Night.”

Azriel laughed.

“You got me there. But really, I am not asking you on a date or anything preposterous like that. Just wanna get out of the office. I have just the place.”

“Just the place…”

“Yeah, I am betting my bollocks that you’ll love it!”

“Keep your bollocks. Let me see,” she looked up her calendar on her phone and said, “I can do 3 pm, if that works for you.”

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up.”

“What shall I wear?” she inquired, now very interested in where he was planning to take her.

“Clothes. Pearls. Your usual posh shit.”

“Posh shit. Got it.”

He continued, “Now, the other reason I rang,”

“Which is?”

“Would like to say ‘hello’ to my mate Pinky.”

“No one by that name here,” Elain said firmly.

“Aww, don’t be like that. Lemmie talk to the wee lad! I bet he missed me.”

“I doubt it.”

“What was he doing when I rang?”

“Watching videos,” Elain told him reluctantly.

“His doggie videos?”

“That’s what he likes.”

“He also likes me. So let us have a chat.”

With a dramatic sigh, she brought the phone closer to Piglet’s face and heard Azriel exclaim,

“Hey big lad! How are you doing?”

Hearing Azriel’s voice made Piglet actually raise his head and his tail wiggled.

“I missed you. Do you have a pretty bow on?” Azriel continued, her voice all sing-songy and cooey. Elain dipped the phone a bit and Azriel saw Piglet’s bow, which was a chequered tartan today. 

“Ohhh, you are handsome!”

Bark. Piglet barked in agreement.

“I had a client from Scotland today,” Elain explained. “He loved the bow.”

“Scotsman also needs a wife?” Azriel asked.

“That’s why people come to me. They either need a husband or a wife.”

“Did Pinky like him?”

Elain looked back at the phone and told him, “He doesn’t really like anyone,”

“He likes me!” Azriel protested.

“Only.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Piglet doesn’t really trust humans. I think he knows that the previous family didn’t want him because of his leg and that when he was hurt, they abandoned him. And after that…well, I don’t know if he understands the concept of death, but I feel like he knew that they didn’t want him alive anymore. That they left him behind and would never come back for him. 

“So he doesn’t really care about humans. He tolerates them, but he only loves me. And the only other person he ever responded to willingly, is…”

“Who?”

“You.”

Azriel didn’t say anything to that.

Elain stroked the dog’s back gently, looking down at him, seemingly having forgotten that Azriel was still on the phone.

“Put him on, will you,” he requested again.

She jerked out of her thoughts and then put the phone in front of the pug.

“You be good,” Azriel ordered him gently. “Take care of Ellie, alright? Remember, lad, you are the man of the house. I trust you to protect our girl when I am not there.”

Bark-bark.

“That’s right. You get me. Miss you, mate. Put Ellie back on the phone.”

Elain just gawked back, unable to form any words. What the HELL was that?

Ellie?

Protect?

OUR GIRL?

What in the world?

“We are kindred spirits, Pink and I,” Azriel decided. “He sees me. And I get him.”

“What?” she breathed, still trying to wrap her mind around everything that she just heard.

“I know about abandonment too…and Pinky recognises that,” Azriel said easily. “You know, when I was 8 years old, my father lost a game of cards. He didn’t have the money to pay, so he offered me, as a consolation prize. The men who played with him–well, they decided that it would be fun to light my hands on fire and see how long it would take for them to burn. And burn they did. When someone finally heard my screams, they rang the emergency services.

“My father and my step-mother never came to see me in the hospital, before I was moved to a foster home. So like I said, I know about abandonment.”

Elain was so shocked, she gasped in horror, staring back at him.

“He knows what it’s like not to be needed,” Azriel added softly and then winked at her. “Enjoy your beauty treatments, matchmaker. I’ll see you on Wednesday. Also, you better root for us tomorrow. G’night.”

With that, he clicked off, leaving Elain bewildered and emotionally destroyed.

-

He would never, ever, ever admit this to anyone, including himself, but Azriel Night was slightly intimidated by Elain Archeron.

She didn't exactly threaten him physically, but psychologically, there was something about her that made him…nervous. Unsure of himself. And he wasn’t a very confident man to begin with. Elain had noticed his self-esteem issues almost instantly–one of the very few people who did–and that made hiding himself from her even more complicated. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly about her, but she made him want to be better. Present the best version of himself. He still yearned to be himself in front of her, because as strange as that was, she seemed to accept him. But he wanted to be someone she enjoyed dealing with. She was judgy, but she didn’t judge him. He annoyed her because he didn’t take her and her work seriously–which he didn’t–but despite their head-butting, Azriel wanted her to like him…Oh Jesus. He sounded like an emotional teenage girl at a sleepover even to himself. 

Why?

She was a pearl-wearing weirdo who had more complexes than she had cardigans. Why did he care what she thought about him? Why?

But he did.

So before he picked up the phone and FaceTimed her, he actually did some push ups. He knew that she had one soft spot–her dog–and he was fully prepared to use Pinky to his advantage. He had the biscuits all prepared, ready to spring them up on her at any moment. But he sure didn’t expect to be talking football and finding out about that side of her. And then getting excited about that…like an emotional teenage girl at a sleepover. Nevertheless, he had all these topics prepared in advance, so he could have a smooth conversation with her…and what he didn’t expect to do was to fuck it all up and tell her about how he got his hands burnt. Absolutely unnecessary. Totally inappropriate. He should’ve stopped when things were funny and light, and when she looked surprised and frazzled and adorable (his favourite look on her). But he went ahead and destroyed it all like a damn sledge hammer. What was wrong with him? Everything. That was the simplest answer. Everything.

He sat in his boxers on the bed, his head buried in his hands. 

It rained outside and he wasn’t looking forward to the game tomorrow, because the weather promised to be abysmally bad and he’d have to run for 90 minutes in the pouring rain. Oh joy. 

Therefore, when his phone rang, Azriel jumped, startled.

It was FaceTime.

He had her under ‘Cute Matchmaker’ in his phone, and she was calling him now. Not even ten minutes after they hung up.

He exhaled and pressed the button.

Before he could say anything, make a joke, or tease, he was faced with Elain’s tear-covered face, her huge, cartoonishly enormous round eyes wet and brimming over with tears. She’d removed all her little beauty patches that she had clearly forgotten about when they were speaking before. Now, it was just her pale, beautiful and grief-stricken face.

“Why did you tell me?” she sobbed. 

He was taken aback and was at a loss for words. He watched her wipe her eyes with her first, but tears just flowed out of her eyes in little rivulets.

“How…how,” she hiccuped, “could they…why? How could they…you were eight…”

She choked back a sob and all Azriel wanted to do was beg her to stop crying, explain that it was over twenty years ago and that it was the past, but he also knew that it would cheapen the emotion of her reaction.

“It’s not human, to do something like that,” she wept. “To take a little boy and maim him like that…Why?”

“People do cruel things all the time,” Azriel’s voice was hollow. 

“But…but…” she gulped in the air, snot and tears mixing together on her face.

“I am sorry,” Azriel said sincerely. “This wasn’t my intention. I didn’t mean to upset you,”

“I can’t believe that something so awful happens in our world,” Elain admitted naively, “it’s incomprehensible.”

Worse things happened in this world, and Azriel had seen many of them, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure whether Elain Archeron, matchmaker to the rich and powerful, the little delicate pearl-wearing oddity was very adept at living in the real world. She existed on a different plane: enigmatic and sincere in her nature, maybe a little too innocent, but that’s kind of what attracted Azriel to her. Why, despite finding her difficult and mystifying at times, puzzling and irritating he relished in her uniqueness.

“Bad things happen,” he only concluded with general vagueness about his statement. 

“I can’t accept that,”

Azriel wanted to argue, tell her that she was being glib, that it wasn’t a matter of her acceptance and that she needed to accept that some people were born in shit, lived in shit and died in shit. That children were abused and that often, parents were the ones who abused them. He wanted to tell her to get her head out of her arse and face the world in all its ugliness.

But he didn’t say any of that.

He made Elain cry, and it made him feel like a massive arsehole for some reason. Instead of laying harsh truths on her, he wanted to protect and shield her from those very truths. This was a girl who rescued three legged pugs from certain death and then put bows on them. 

“Will you stop crying?” he asked gently.

“No, I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. About how horrible it was.”

She sniffled and trembled, and he watched her and Pinky as he rubbed his head against her arm, trying to comfort her. The dog whimpered sadly, not understanding why she was so upset. 

Azriel thought frantically, trying to find a way out of this mess, until something popped into his head. Something that he and Cassian used to do when they were in the group home, to make themselves feel better about their lives.

“Can I make it all better?” he requested quietly.

She looked at him, blinking over her tears.

“How?” she wiped her face again.

“You’ll have to trust me.”

“Ha!”

“Don’t argue with me, woman,” he ordered sternly. “Get your arse in bed, and under the blanket.”

She glared at him suspiciously, not understanding what he wanted. 

Prodding her over the phone wasn’t exactly easy, but he nodded and said, “Come on, lass. Don’t be stubborn. Under the sheets you go.”

The phone wobbled and jolted, but he knew that she followed his directive and in the next moment, she was holding the phone to her face.

“Turn on your side,” he instructed.

She dared to roll her eyes at him, but did as he told her.

“Now what? How is this making me feel better?”

“Ms. Archeron, be quiet for one sec and quit making a fuss. Trust the fucking process.”

“Remember how we discussed language?” she cocked a brow at him.

“Remember how we discussed not being annoying and bossy all the time?”

“We never discussed that.”

“We are discussing it now.”

“Is this sexting? Is this what we are doing?” she suddenly popped her head up from the pillow and stared at him in horror.

Azriel attempted to smother a laugh, though it came out as a loud snort. 

“Do you have any idea what sexting is?”

“Yes, talking sex stuff on the phone. And if this is your idea of making it all better, this is a hard pass. I am not sexting with you.”

“No sexting. You are not my type,” he reminded her.

She only scoffed in indignation at his words.

He quickly added,

“Unless you really want to do some sexting with me. I am quite good at it,”

“No doubt,”

“Good at dirty talk. I’ll understand. No judgement. If the ginger bloke isn’t hitting all the spots–which I am guessing he isn’t since you are home alone with your dog on a Friday night–then I can help out…relieve some tension. No strings attached.”

“You are obsessed with the ‘ginger bloke’ as you call him,” Elain pointed out. 

“More like fascinated with what man would date you?”

She winced at his words and he immediately realised that he didn’t say the right thing. Not at all.

“So in your mind, I am so undateable that only the most odd and deranged man would grace me with his merciful presence?” she whispered and a sad tear rolled down her cheek.

“I am sorry! That’s not what I meant,” he pleaded at once. “I didn’t say it right…”

“No you didn’t,” she concluded. “I am sorry, Mr. Night, but I am tired and upset and your idea of making me feel better isn’t working. Good night.”

“No, no,” he exclaimed quickly, attempting to salvage the situation. “Please. Just stay on the line for a second. I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to know who you chose to be your boyfriend? What does he have that no one else’s got to make you fall for him? Is all. That’s all I meant.”

“You are brutish and aggressive and rude,” she told him, sniffling.

“I know,” he confirmed.

“You are supposed to argue!”

“Why argue if it’s the truth? Now. Close your eyes.”

“Close my eyes?”

“Yes.”

Elain closed her eyes. 

“Think about it, but not too long. And then describe your ideal day,” he urged quietly.

“I don’t know what my ideal day is,” she argued softly. 

“Well, create it for me. Create it in your mind. What do you want to do? Where do you want to go? Who do you want to be with?”

She thought, her brow furrowing and a cute little line appearing between her brows.

At last, she told him, “In London. I want to be in London,”  her eyes were still closed. “I want to wake up and it’s quiet, but I know that I am in the city. I don’t linger for too long, but I do take the longest shower, with like…10 shower heads!”

Azriel smiled at that, but didn’t comment, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.

“And then I dress in something very comfortable–joggers maybe, or a nice tracksuit. Soft and loose. And then, I would go downstairs and there would be breakfast. A full English–fry bread and beans and black pudding. The whole deal. And I would eat it all. All the sausages and all the eggs. And I’d drink all the tea too. And once I am done eating, the door would open and in would come Piglet, and behind him, my husband. And he would…”

She stopped talking.

Azriel waited.

There was more to her dream than just devouring a full English. There was something that she was apprehensive about sharing, but wanted him to know. 

Azriel knew people–he could read them fairly easily, and Elain wasn’t exactly complicated. But he was the captain of his team, and he had to operate and adjust all the time throughout the game, reading his teammates’ moods and needs. 

So as he waited for Elain to say more, he already suspected what it would be. 

“He’d be pushing a pram,” she whispered, voice barely audible. “With our children in it.”

“He is good, this husband of yours,” Azriel commented simply. “Makes you breakfast. Takes the dog out. Minds the children.”

“He loves me. And I love him,” she murmured.

“What’s he look like?”

“He is tall.”

“Anything else?”

“No. He is tall.”

“How many children?” 

“Four. I mean, two when I think about it. But eventually, four. Why do you want to know?”

“Four is a good number,” he approved. “What else? Tell me more.”

“I think I’d like to go to Portobello Road Market and get lost in the crowds and find fun things there to buy.”

Not what he expected, but alright. He leaned towards a fancier store. Not fucking Portobello Road Market. 

“Piglet loves it there,” she added. “He loves crowds. And then we can stop by my sister Nesta’s house and have lunch. Or no…no, no,” she shook her head vigorously. “I want something else!”

“Okay, what do you want?”

“I want to go to Greenwich, to the park. I love that park and the observatory. And the views,”

“You’d be looking at where I live,” he smiled.

“What? Where do you live?”

“Canary Wharf.”

“Ohhh,” she whistled softly. “Fancy! You are a footballer, I guess it makes sense. It’s either that, or Primrose Hill or a big pile in Surrey or something,”

“You are right.” Azriel was amused. But she wasn’t wrong.

“So, we’ve gone all the way from Bloomsbury, to Notting Hill, to Greenwich…Where to now? After the park? What did you do at the park by the way?”

“Played with Piglet. With my husband.”

“Uh-uh. And?”

“And then we need to go to a pub because I’d be tired.”

“Legit.”

“Get a couple of drinks…”

“So your ideal day is travelling around London and eating?”

“Basically yes. I love eating so much,” she admitted dreamily. “Afterwards, I want to have tea somewhere too. At a nice place. Maybe at the Goring.”

“Are you still wearing your tracksuit? And hauling around your dog and kids?” Azriel teased, and she stuck her tongue at him, in a very unlady-like gesture, and un-Elain-like reaction. 

“You are messing up my dream day!”

“Sorry. Just trying to picture you in your very comfy joggers at the Goring. What else then? Where are we finishing this day? A swanky restaurant? A bar?”

Decisively, she said, “no! We’d go to my favourite place.”

“I am waiting here with bated breath, Ms. Archeron. What is your favourite place?”

“G Kelly, Mr. Night. I get a meat pie with small liquor and mash and apple crumble with custard.”

“What the fuck do you know about G Kelly?” he gaped at her through the screen. 

“You are so rude. I like what I like, Mr. Night. Leave me alone. And my husband will love it too!”

“I mean, I love the place, but come on,”

“What does it have to do with you?”

“Aren’t you marrying me? I am tall. I can make babies. I’ll take Pinky out.”

“You are unhinged,” he said flatly. 

“Tell me that you are at least considering it?”

“Marrying you? Hardly.”

“Don’t you want your own bit o’rough?”

“You are not a bit o’rough, Mr. Night. You are a multi-millionaire who lives in Canary Wharf. As I said before, you need to get out of your own head. You are adored by millions and you play for one of the best teams in the world. Yes, you grew up rough, but that’s all behind you,”

“Is it?”

“It is. I grew up as a normal child and I was exposed to many different people and places. I am not as posh as you think.”

“I’ll take your word for it. You feeling better, Ms. Archeron?”

She considered it and then nodded, “I am. Thank you. This was surprising, but it did the trick.”

“I know. Well, sleep well then. I expect you to watch the game tomorrow and root for us. And for me.”

“Oh, is that an order?”

“Yeah, it kind of is. We’ll be discussing it on Wednesday. Don’t get in trouble meanwhile.”

“Oh, I’ll do my best,” she promised, hiding her smile.

“‘Night, big lad,” Azriel called out loudly. “You be good too.”

Piglet was already asleep. 

-

The more you know…

[literaryartisan]

Today’s a rough day for a lot of us, I’d love to know:

-a recent fun fact

-a recipe you’d like to share

-a solid song

-if u know ur my buddy? bc u are

<3 you're my buddy too!!! How about a recipe? I took this from the back of a box of pasta years ago and now it's my go-to for work potlucks or if I just want to meal prep a week's worth of easy lunches. It's very versatile and has a lot of veggies! Alter it to your liking Rainbow Rotini Antipasti Salad

That's what Golden Grain calls it and I call it something like "that tricolor rotini veggie pasta thing", completely forgetting that "antipasti" is a word.

The Ingredients (I almost pasted a picture of my hero Racheal Kundananji in here oops):

12 ounces Golden Grain® Tri-Color Rotini (that's the whole box)

2-1/2 cups small broccoli florets (you can omit if you don't like broccoli. I like broccoli)

1 cup cubed mozzarella cheese (like half of a 16oz block of mozzarella. also I only just now realized pepper jack would probably work really well?? I might try that next time)

3/4 cup sliced pepperoni, halved (I like to use turkey pepperoni. You can also just omit this if you don't want meat in it!)

1/2 cup red or green bell pepper strips (whichever color is on sale is a good one to get. I also like to try to make this at the same time as something else that uses bell peppers like fajitas because 1/2 a cup isn't much unless you got a tiny pepper. alternatively: just put the whole pepper in there) (oh, also I like to make them more like squares than strips? it's easier to dish up and eat because bite size rectangles match the size of everything else better than long strips)

1/3 cup red onion, thinly sliced (see above re: making another dish that uses this ingredient. I can only find GINORMOUS red onions, so the rest went into my fajitas)

3/4 cup bottled Italian dressing (I use Wishbone Zesty Robusto Italian Dressing I think because I forgot it doesn't say "zesty" in the recipe?? there's enough in the bottle for like 2 of these salads with some extra and it keeps well. use whatever italian dressing you want, or experiment with other dressings if you don't like italian)

Bonus ingredients not in the recipe!! 1 can sliced black olives (I love olives and you know only half a can actually made it in)

1-2 cucumbers, peeled and cubed (number depends on size of cucumber. I don't usually do this if it's just for myself, the cucumber doesn't keep as long)

honestly you could probably throw shredded carrots or other croncier veggies in here. maybe some green onions. jicama??? I haven't tried any of those but you can do what you want forever.

The Directions from the Golden Grain website:

1 - Cook pasta according to package directions, adding broccoli to the boiling water for the last minute of cooking time. Drain, rinse well with cold water; drain again.

2 - In a large bowl, combine all ingredients, tossing together to distribute dressing.

3 - Serve immediately, or cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.

Cook's Tip: If you're refrigerating the salad until serving, be sure to toss it gently just prior to serving, adding a few splashes of dressing if needed.

My tips!! Fill the pot with water, put it on the stove, and then start chopping veggies while you wait for the water to boil. You'll want to set the broccoli aside to blanche it in the pasta water (this step is worth taking) but otherwise just throw everything into your large bowl.

Don't feel rushed if the pasta is almost ready, you still need to drain it and rinse it and let it cool down!! Adding it to the bowl warm will melt the cheese and maybe even partially cook the other veggie depending how hot the pasta is (ask me how i know!!!) Just make it wait its turn until you have everything else ready. It all comes together in half an hour or less, depending how fast your chopping skills are (mine are slow) and how quickly your pasta water comes to boil.

This makes A LOT. If you're making it just for you be prepared to be eating it almost every day for about a week.

[werebutch]

@eucyon Oh my god tumblr ate your ask I’m so lucky I screenshotted. So mad I have to type again . Thank you so much for dis question it’s so fun and made me really think to be honest ^__^ ILYSMMMM this is long but it’s too fun

This is Lynx’s most popular album, Conspiracy Theories. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a pic of lynx as the cover even if it’s silly. I really like rabbit imagery in music anyways though so I think it’s nice. I was inspired by Alice In Chains album covers and also fleshwater’s ‘we’re not here to be loved’. I tried to find a way to make it more 'gritty' but I couldn’t unfortunately 😭 I like how the title looks, like they just got a label maker and smacked it on..heheh

I imagine that this album is about relationship anxiety, betrayal, resentment, anti social tendencies, infidelity, and aliens. Probably not little green men, maybe more like the thing kind of fleshy imagery. Definitely appealing to atlas and scotch in different ways. Tool’s Undertow is a good example (off the top of my head..) of the sound I’m thinking of, so… prog? Or at least heavily inspired. I’m bad with genres heheh

im currently trying to either become okay with roadkill's name, or decide on a new one.. so im not making any album covers for them yet lol but i will post when i do..

I think roadkill would take a lot of inspo from their fave band so their style is probably heavily influenced by Lynx. Scotch adds a lot of sampling, distortion, whatever..idk I don’t make music.. and atlas is a big fan of slow tempo and bass. think its important to note that atlas doesnt play bass like a bassist in this album, he plays it more like a guitarist. kind of. hope that makes sense. I’ve always been really torn about roadkill’s genre, it’s been everywhere and tends to change. scotch and atlas’ styles would be vastly different if they were solo, so I think that’s why i am so indecisive . I think I just have to keep reminding myself that they’re in a band together, so styles would be mixed.

A part of me is like.. I think roadkill’s first album would be reminiscent of faith no more’s ‘the real thing’, or even some of Primus' stuff in some sense, plus similarities to Lynx and influences of industrial. i know thats a lot of random descriptions. I kinda think of (here’s a goofy genre for ya) sludge metal bands’ instrumental style, not necessarily vocal style... its hard to describe a band that doesnt exist. LMFAO

right now im thinking about 'the pot' by tool as a close example of roadkill.. im having a hard time finding artists that match scotch's vocal range even remotely. also doesnt help that the bands im basing this off of like tool and FNM dont exactly...fit into genres very neatly. roadkill and lynx wouldnt either. HAH. i just know it wouldnt be that high quality but definitely obvious theres a lot of passion in it. i mean this is just an album made by guys who dontknow what theyre doing. like at all. lol

Roadkill’s sound changes quite a bit their next album when seraph is involved. It becomes a lot more ummmm I guess palatable to more people? I don’t exactly know what I mean by that. Ok. LOL. I’ll think about it.. but this is around when Scotch realizes he wants this to be his job. Having Seraph helps A LOT with building a more dedicated and bigger audience, since they’re the one most willing to make changes. Plus they’re in art school, I feel like they’d have connections. So I guess roadkill would sell out in a way.

if you asked me this question a year ago i would have had a completely different answer. i wouldve probably said roadkill is pop punk or garage rock or something. i have trouble fitting scotch and atlas into a genre together. it fits scotch just fine and i think he would enjoy it, but its not roadkill.. also ive been thinking of stylizing roadkill as rdkill.. lmk wat u think.. im unsure about the name is generalHAHA. i know this is a lot so dont feel pressured to reply to everything LMAO im just thinking out loud. and drawing connections between genres that completely do not make sense. peace and LOVE<3

[bionicle-ramblings]

Humanized Toa Metru x Reader stuff because I'm bored and I saw a really good piece of art work

These are collective ones. I'll make "solo" posts or something for each team member later

Is it a polyamorous thing? It could be. You're not exactly a member of the team, but you're not unwelcome in the group. You're an honorary member, as it were. You fill them in with anything they need to know, like what threat is where, what they should expect, et cetera. As an honorary member, you're not allowed on missions. At all. Too risky. You also suspect that a few of the Toa just want you around because they want to keep an eye on you, so you don't snitch to anyone else

You know them because they're around you, you're all loosely aware of each other, being on, "Oh, that's (name)," basis

For the longest time, you thought Nokama was the leader, but were surprised to see Vakama was instead. Knowing them, loosely, you always thought Nokama would lead the charge because of her being a student-teacher/studying to be a teacher. Nope. Vakama has admitted he didn't ask to be a leader, but now that the role's been put on him, he's in it. You did suggest using a lottery system where names were picked out of a hat and whoever’s name was picked was the one to lead, but you got laughed at by Onewa and Matau

Before finding out, you would see each of them with battle damage, like scratches and bruises that weren't there the day before. When asked, the responses varied from, "I fell down" to "I ran into the door" to "I got in a fight" even to "What bruises?" and "It's none of your business." You thought they were all in a fight club before learning they were Toa

You asked Vakama how he lights candles, being able to use and control fire, and he lit one using a lighter he keeps on him for incognito. When you asked to see his elemental powers, he lit another candle with his index finger, though he really uses whichever finger he wants, even the ring finger

You are medically inclined, so you've had to patch up the Toa a fair number of times. That includes having to emergency stitch Whenua, splint Nuju's arm, help Vakama cauterize his own leg, tourniquet Nokama's hand, clean and change bandages Matau got, all sorts of things

Turns you their luck spread to you because you've had to have your leg stitched and some serious injuries fixed by the Toa

Most nights consist of waiting for your partner or partners to come home or, worse case scenario, wait for a few to come back with bad news

They talk to each other, but they open up with you

You've lost more bets than you care to admit because Matau and Onewa talked you into eating chili peppers with them and Vakama. You three were no match and you thought Vakama was just using his heat resistance to his advantage. He proved he wasn't by eating a small bit of chocolate with capsaicin extra in it and it was the first time anyone of you saw him need to get milk to drink after eating something spicy. He did pour himself a cup, though, because having a strong reaction to spice and drinkimg out of the carton is a no-no

You and Matau were once the only ones up first, and you woke up everyone by banging pots and pans together

You used to doubt Vakama had visions. You weren't a prick about it, but you had your doubts. That is until one day, while out with Matau and Nokama for some chill time, Vakama raced towards you three, shouting at you to turn away from where you were going. You realized why when you got attacked by Nidhiki. Later, when the battle was over, you asked how Vakama knew where you three were as phones don't exist and you didn't tell him where you were exactly. He didn't know. His visions did

Whenua and Nuju still have some disagreements about studying the past or future. You have ensudred those arguments don't get physical

You've lost race after race against Nokama when you two were swimming, but you did come close

A nothing activity you and the team have done: A try not to laugh game. No toiching, no props, no prep time, just you and your imagination. You found out that you get a lot of pity/"Oh, come on," laughs from Nokama, Vakama, and Nuju when you use wordplay and puns, but you also learned that Whenua isn't a fan and teamed up with Matau and Onewa to make you laugh specifically as revenge

Cuddle puddles. That is all

[sumire-no-nikki]

September Finally

August is over. What a relief. August is a restless month. The sunshine has lost its novelty, the weather is no longer appreciated and we’re all caught in the in between. The summer bounty has started to spoil. The desire for something new has become more urgent, and it’s all starting to feel like there’s nothing that can be done but let time pass. I think that might be the worst part of it—the passivity. August demands endurance. September provides release.

As I’m typing this, the sky murky, gray with rain filled clouds. A sign of a promising weekend and a refreshing month to come.

What have I been up to this month? I’m flipping through my planner and wow, I have been busy! Most notable thing accomplished is finalising my schedule for the rest of the year, which is very exciting, because now that everything is decided all that’s left to do is wait for them to happen. I can’t wait!!

I am also happy to announce I am out of my reading funk!! I read a couple of books this past month—all outside my comfort zone (plus points for that!) I tend to favor literary fiction, historical fiction and mystery novels, but this month I exclusively read YA fantasy. I have a handful of YA/fantasy books because once upon a time I thought I was falling in love with this girl who liked the genre. Pulling my signature “I-Will-Read-What-You-Like-To-Read-Because-I-Love-You” move™️ I bought these books, eager to get to know this girl’s world. But without going too deep into it for now, I very fortunately realized that relationship wasn’t going to work at all and all I have left of that time are these books that are totally outside of my usual taste. Ah, silly me.

Books read this month:

We Were Liars - E. Lockhart

The Impossible Girl - Lydia Kang (okay this is historical fantasy… so it’s only partially out of my comfort zone lol)

Sky in the Deep - Adrienne Young

Vicious - V.E. Schwab

All these reads got a 3+ out of 5 rating by the way. They’re all solid but I also don’t feel a sense of attachment to any of them so I ended up giving them away. I’m glad I read them but it is also a relief to have tidied up my collection a little bit.

Now, what shall I name my Snow Queen pothos babies? They were sitting in a propagation jar for ages and I finally potted them. The mama plant had some root rot issues so I had to save it by chopping it up. When it gets fuller, I’m going to chop it some more and maybe finally make my pothos medley dream come true. I have five different kinds of pothos in my plant family and I really want to experiment and combine them in one pot.

Speaking of plants, I have to trim the dining room plants for the fourth time this year. They’re growing out of control. I’m going to do that later today while listening to some podcasts.

Oh! Yes, podcasts! I come to you with a recommendation. My usual podcasts are True Crime (yes, I am one of those people I’m afraid), scary stories, history and politics. This one is a Sci-Fi fiction podcast (so I’ve continued the theme of staying outside my comfort zone in August it seems). Anyway, I got an ad for a Spotify Podcast called Case 63 a couple of days ago while listening to Disappeances by Sarah Turney (another good podcast). The ad was compelling enough to get me to check it out and I’m so happy I did. It’s a really short 10-episode story about a time traveler trying to prevent the end of the world. How original! (I am being sarcastic lol). But seriously, it actually got me pacing my kitchen while nervously chewing on a banana. It’s pretty good. I’m not into Sci-Fi at all. I’ve probably interacted with like, four different Sci-Fi media in my entire life but this one was an excellent listen. I’m interested in listening to more similar podcasts. I’ll remember to find more this month.

I also bought a new iPad Pro and the matching Magic Keyboard in August. I upgraded from an 11-inch to a 12.9-inch model and the difference is great, especially when I have the split screen setup going on. And the Magic Keyboard is definitely better than the Apple Keyboard Folio I had. It comes with a trackpad so it’s basically a MacBook with a touch screen. I was going to upgrade my MacBook too but they didn’t have the one I wanted and it isn’t urgent, so I just stuck with these two purchases. I’m very content. I put an autumn themed wallpaper on the new iPad (can you feel my intense yearning for autumn???) and I’ve just been setting it up little by little.

This entry’s music highlight is from a band called Half Moon Run from Canada (insert Louise Belcher “enough with Canada!!” GIF here lol) and I may or may not see them live soon. It depends on my schedule. This song is the first track from their newest album which is fucking incredible. Somehow when I listen to the album I feel like I’m back in 2013? Yet at the same time this album feels a lot more up to date than their older works. I don’t know how to explain it. I think it’s the vocalist’s voice. It’s very… 2010s emo/punk/indie sounding. When the chorus of this song rolls in I can’t help but bop my head and sing along especially when he goes “… that weight you carry with yaaaa!!” I love it.

Alright. That’s it for now. I leave you with my orange boy tickling the ivories and knocking all my sheet music off the music rack because, you know, orange cat behaviour. And of course my eldest boy is being the mellow gentleman that he is, just lounging in his “penthouse apartment” (because it’s at the top of their cat tree lol).

Smell you later!

[astralsi]

hello, elli! how are you doing? i'm always very impressed by your builds, you seem to craft them very carefully and you definitely have an amazing eye for detail. there's lots of small touches that make them feel alive/realistic and they have a warm atmosphere that really appeals to me. because of that, i'd like to ask you if you have any tips when it comes to building and finding inspiration. oh, i almost forgot, i'd love to have your last builds and its residents when you reach the milestone!

Hiya!! this is such a sweet ask and the ideas are brewing in my head so you get a dissertation under the cut :D (ps ily you made my day HEHE)

ALRIGHT! so first of all a little context, i've been building since i got the sims 3 alll the way back in 2011. i think. i was 7, couldn't speak or even understand english yet and my game was stuck in it so for a very long time i was just doing whatever and most of the time it.... sucked! I got the sims 4 back in 2014 with the mac release, and back in the day the build mode was revolutionary so i spent a lot of my time in there. For me building is fun, i know a lot of people who see it as frustrating and timeconsuming and while it can be- it can also be very enjoyable in the right setting.

first of all, style changes a lot and my builds look different every year! the style i've been building in now only really started in 2021/2022 with this build:

now for some tips:

there's a lot of ways to get inspiration, but my favourite and most useful is pinterest! i have a board full of exterior and interior designs, some i use for vibes and others i follow very closely, i find using references (just like you might for sims) helps a ton when trying to build something realistic. Also think magazines like architectural digest, design blogs on tumblr, youtube home viewings, other video games, tv shows etc. When i'm building for DFM i like to keep Stranger Things, Gone Home and Bones And All in mind as inspiration, and when i build the house in this post for @literalite's Dgwicf i referenced the house from Bosch.

Along with that comes inspo from other builders on Simblr. Go and look at your fav builds, what makes them stand out to you? how can you incorporate that into your own builds? what do you need to be able to do that? One thing i did a lot while learning was watching speed builds; and i mean the REAL kind not the stop motion ones despite them being weirdly satisfying lmao. Ones with a good voiceover help too. Seeing someone actually build makes it a lot easier to figure out more complicated building styles.

One thing i like to do is to build through storytelling. I personally mostly build for sets, so then i like to consider what the viewer needs to see to be able to understand a character without having to know them, where you are/live says a lot about you! But for gameplay it works similarly. Ask yourself questions; who lives here, what is this lot used for, how much money do they have, where is this set, does this match the rest of the neighbourhood/town. If building many lots for something like a story or save file, i like to make a pinterest board for the town vibes too.

Technically, i think there's two main tips for making a build look nice in this specific style. Landscaping and Clutter! i actually think landscaping is the most important part of building as it ties the entire thing together; even if its just three trees in a planter pot. Don't forget about terrain painting either! this one's hard to learn if you never do it but i'd say start out with the softest but largest brush option and kind of airbrush some dirt/gravel around the lot and add a little extra dirt underneath houses and roads. Last tip; if you struggle with roofing there's lots of tutorials on youtube, or you could just choose builds that have less roofs.

i have no idea how to explain how to clutter but you could walk around your house to look for stuff you'd normally clean up if someone would come over. add that into your build :) think trash, laundry, study materials, craft projects, little random nicknacks, cooking supplies, etc. sometimes i go through my clutter folders and just put everything i want to use in one room and distribute it later once the furniture is in!

so uhmmm,,, i hope this was helpful lemme know!! have fun building and don't forget to take snack breaks... sugar helps hehe

[tuntunipakhi]

My attempt at gardening, and also at telling you the truth.

To love is to inevitably lose. The first truth I looked upon. The first truth I thought I accepted, cerebrally at least, reinforced through tight whacks of a ruler against my upturned naked wrist every time I try to shield my eyes against its harsh and unflinching stare.

The truth is a stern teacher, and corporeal punishment does little to numb me to the sting, only succeeding in layering it with memories past like scars on previously unmarred, receptive skin. Every fresh impact brings the tears of old wounds back into my eyes. I should be good at this by now, this business of looking the Truth in the eyes and calling it as it is. Every time I bow my head in shame at my naïve and dogged hopefulness, it blurs in the periphery of my vision, warping into something I can stand to look at.

The truth as seen from the corner of my eyes:

1. I am so worthy of love that loving me is inevitable.

2. Everything works out in the end and my pain and heartbreak are just added moisture for the light to bend and break into the beautiful rainbow rays of a Happy Ending that a girl can only dream of.

3 . I think I love you truly and purely outside the bounds of what you could give me and what I know I want to give you- kisses and arguments and tears and bear hugs and slow mornings with my small body wrapped tight against the wall of your back in bed.

But as you roll over and pull the covers from our intertwined figures, I turn my face and I see the truth lying bare, naked and shivering, uncovered for a moment.

I know I love you dishonestly and impurely.

The tightness of our stretched boundaries broadens the space between my heart and the space where I reach for yours. (Imagine the scene from Strangers on a Train, I’m the homoerotic psychokiller and your heart is the piece of evidence I want to plant to make my story corroborate). Somewhere a crack I can’t place widens the space (Imagine also, the impossible ability to stretch I do not have, because we aren’t living in a Hitchcock film), and I hurry to bridge it, grabbing the nearest things I can find:

The pillow stiff in between us stuffed with all the things left unsaid and unshared. All the notifications unhurriedly swiped away from the top of your phone as I avert my eyes. The familiar sinking feeling and bitter pang of ritual rememberance hurriedly swallowed down, that cuts my banter at its source. (Later, when I’m alone and unsupervised on your Instagram following, I will call it back up like bile in my throat). The plant you bought me from Florida (just because… because you know me so well? because I plague your mind, in, like, a good way?) that matches my room so perfectly.

I want to love you freely, I want to love you despite the different spaces our hearts occupy, but I panic at the distance and stretch harder to reinforce the unsteady bridge I am trying to build.

I want to be content with just your sweet friendship, made up of confusing moments of kindness, grace, understanding, and bodily comfort. I want to be content with the way you hold me through the night and across the table as I cry over stupid things and you say you understand (because you really do and we are made up of the same stuff, you and I, and how could I not fall in love with you). I want to be okay with the briefness of the euphoric floating I experience every time you let me soar with badly drawn wings on the easy breeze of your appreciation of them. I squint my eyes and pretend that I am, that friendship is all I’ll ever ask of you. I feel the familiar sting of the ruler long before I hear the dull thud of its impact, (oh Truth, you relentless, cruel mistress) and my shaky hands spill out all the kindness you give me. I don’t know what to do with it all, years of neglect have left me unprepared. So I spoon it quick into the only container I have on hand, the potted plant you’ve given me. I hope it grows into something more.

And when I get impatient, I dig and uproot and repot into a larger, softer patch of soil. The turnover, bits of spilled mud spell out more of the truth for me in letters clearer than I’ve ever managed to write.

I am holding out hope. I have been, ever since I met you, for a whirlwind love story where our friendship roots itself so deep that you’re left wanting without it. That I become the special person in your life, the person, the only one that matters, that synthesises the sun and nourishes your garden. To that effect, I’ve been sprinkling weeds when you aren’t paying enough attention- mean biting remarks and sundresses and retellings of kisses all designed to hurt your feelings, and in effect, uncover them. All so you’ll pick up your shears and come back and groom me into something more beautiful, a topiary in the image of the woman you could finally love. I’ve been trying to root myself inside you so hard that I didn’t notice that the opposite had occurred, that all I succeeded in doing was making a farm out of you and decommissioning all other food sources. Maybe that’s why this plant won’t grow.

Let’s cut the flowery language at its stems and dirty our soles for a moment.

The truth unearthed looks like this. I need you, need you too much, need you to rewrite everything it is about me that screams unloveability. I need you to choose me, over and over again. I need you to prioritise me, to think about me constantly. I need you to shed tears over me. To water me with them. With your consideration. With your cum. With your affection. With your sweat. With your effort. I want you to accept it all, to accept the fear of loving me, to fear losing me above all else and still to not be able to breathe without having me. I need you to want me, to drink up every insignificant moment spent with me and greedily reach for more.

The way I do.

In a last ditch (haha) attempt at making your plant grow, I reach for the final tool in my gardening box, a spade I label ‘comparison’.

If I was leaving for four months, fuck, even a month, the only person I’d ever want to spend my time, my nights with, is you. Not out rake-ishly mowing my lawn with borrowed hoes. (Okay, okay. I apologise for the puns, and the misogyny. Sometimes Love rears its ugly head and it looks just like me). I hit the bottom of the pot as I dig myself deeper (one could argue I was in too deep far before), and the fact resounds with tin-like clarity.

The whole entire truth, unpotted and dusted and wiped clean at last, shines undeniably. You don’t love me. You really never will, I am nothing but your very dear , platonic friend, and this is nothing but a very fake, plastic plant. I have to learn to be okay with this. I hold my wrists out with a sigh and I try not to look away again.

[iantimony]

i once again am overwhelmed by stupid busywork. Get Me Out

listening: finished the counter/weight prequel eps! feels good to be listening to a friends at the table thing in-time with when they're released, lol. i fully laughed out loud at the heartfelt moment between aria and hymn being interrupted by austin's fucking ice machine. incredible. no notes. "people are gonna go insane about aria in this one" keith you are SO right.

music for the week was the spotify release radar! just gettin some new tunes. i'm thinking of making a playlist that's just the songs that i like from release radar and the at the end of the year i can have a New Of 2024 list, idk. i AM going to try and be more discerning about what things i post, though - it would be very easy to just drop a huge list of all the songs on there that i kinda liked with no commentary but i think it'll be more fun to do fewer songs and actually talk about them, y'know?

philadelphia (matt maltese): feels like a mug of tea. very soft. nostalgic for something i've never seen. travels (rob blivion): really does seem like it should be playing over some indie film montage of someone travelling through mists in the scottish highlands. harsh truths (lemoncello): another indie soundtrack song. i think there's a bass in the background? although in retrospect i think it's a cello. lemoncello. duh. anyways it's very good. burning down the house (paramore): this is SUCH a fun cover. what can't paramore do for real. oh no::he said what? (nothing but thieves): BOUNCY. toe tapper. i am driving down a neon highway at 10000mph. coming home song (sammy rae & the friends): back to wistful and nostalgic. feels a certain kind of way especially right now because i am in the process of finding a new apartment, entirely alone for the first time. jolene (maneskin & dolly parton): speaking of really fun covers, yes yes yes. everything i would have wanted from this.

honorable mention to love me not (emei). i do not like this song particularly. it is stuck in my head though.

reading: fallow.

watching: just like last week: with the boyf, the newest dungeon meshi, i loved the way they animated the mimic. then some kill la kill. we're up to episode 11 now, almost halfway! also went to a superbowl party sunday. basically what you'd expect. fun socializing though.

playing: only had the one dnd last weekend, the one i run! went well. definitely was kinda sleepy and not as focused as i'd like. sigh.

making: mostly fallow...i cut out some of the border pieces for my handsewing project in a nice matching solid blue during the superbowl but have not attached any of it yet. started idly crocheting a rectangular prism-shaped object to use as a mtg deck case.

drew a little birthday card for my grandma i guess? mostly watercolor pencil, some prisma marker for the background. can't be assed to rotate it the right way, sorry, lol

pottery-wise, i did not take pictures but i have some fun interesting stuff in the works! biiiiig pot for my mom (got a little busted. but i think it'll make it). mug. glazing a bowl using sgraffito to carve out some waves (my roommate accidentally dinged the rim and i'm incorporating that into the design). did not take any pictures last week but i'll get some tomorrow for the next tuesdaypost.

eating: my roommate made a truly enormous focaccia in a 9x13 glass baking dish to cut into super bowl party sandwiches. they were delicious and we are still eating them for lunch basically every day. she also made a marinated beef bulgogi-type object, served over rice with veg and a fried egg and some spaghetti squash...yumb.

misc: i can't even be like "i just have to make it through this week" because i know next week will look literally exactly like this one (homework due wednesdays for one class, fridays (plus ANOTHER assignment alternating wednesdays) for the other). really bad vibes. just gotta make it through this week this semester.

[bupbupsippycup]

Escaping the Arena | Tales from the Outlands | An Apex Legends story

Part 1

Paradise Lounge was quiet this morning. Or rather, a facsimile of it. The Legends weren't allowed outside of the Arena facilities for half the year. Only Walter, Blódhundr, and Makai are here while Elliot serves, for old time’s sake. Though he has enjoyed every minute of bamboozling and out-witting (Or "Elliot-Witting" as he likes to say) his opponents in the Blood-Sport known as the Apex Games, he still finds that he’s missing his mother, Evelyn, more now than ever before. He’s also missed the life of a bar owner, which, after the mortal terror of fighting in the Games, now seems like meaningless busywork. He's playing the song "Cherry Thrill" by Movements through his phone speaker, and decides to ask about the mood.

“Why so glum, guys? We’ve got the day off, let’s drink and smoke our brains out!”

“I do not partake of mind-addling substances. While I believe that everyone should choose for themselves, I would rather have my wits about me always.” Blódhundr answers politely. Walter strides in with more confidence than 10 people would ever need altogether, and yells across the room to Blódhundr

“Well, what the hell’re ya doing in a bar, then?” Elliot and Makai wave to Walter, cheering his Legend name.

“Fu-u-use!!”

“Evenin’ fellas! How the hell are we??”

“Uh, not too great, I guess,” Elliot replies. Walter rests his metal arm in his usual spot on top of the bar, where by now, there is a large dent the size of an apple, and notices that the Lounge is quite dull at the moment.

“Ah, no kiddin’? What’s this sorry-lookin’ lot?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with them. I suggested alcohol and pot, and I’ve never needed anything else…” Says Elliot, watching them curiously, as one does if watching a baby Leviathan who decides to speak English. Makai looks up from his drink, towards Elliot.

“I don’t wanna offend you, Elliot, but what works for you doesn’t work for everyone else.” Makai turns to Walter.

“I think we’re just tired of wondering if we’ll come home after every match.” Elliot seems to agree. “Yeah, I gotta admit, I’m not feeling great about heading up to the Dropship tomorrow.”

“Oh, come on! I know we’re going out there to fight and likely die soon, but this is the life! We've got more money and fame than anyone else in the Frontier! We all signed up for it, no use mopin’ about now!” Walter says, incredulous. Blódhundr looks to Walter.

“I don’t want to lose you.” Walter hears this, and his expression sobers up. He looks to Makai and Elliot.

“Gimme some privacy here, fellas?” They nod and leave for their bunks. Walter sits with Blódhundr and tries to reassure them.

“Now, don’t go worryin’ yourself about me, ya hear?”

“I cannot deny my fears. You must understand that.”

“‘Course I understand, but I’ve been at this for years. You can’t imagine that there’s something I won’t handle?”

“But I do. I care for you, my Walter. Please do not leave me. We must find another way out of this life. I have had my fill, surely you have as well!”

Walter sits in silence for the longest time… a most unusual occurrence. When he finally answers, Blódhundr can tell that he’s being completely truthful.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t know you felt like that.” He is quiet again for a moment. “If that’s what you want, I’m set on it as well…” Walter perks up, suddenly inspired. “I’d bet the best time to bust outta here is during the match.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am. Figure you can scan for a path with the fewest hostiles, we could nab a nice Trident hovercraft, I could outfit it with a heat shield for the radiation, and blow up the outer walls before anyone realizes we’re gone.”

“Then I will support you. Let us try.”

“Absolutely. Tomorrow, we’re free from the Arena... y'know, you’re quite lucky to have someone as great as I am here…” Blódhundr laughs softly — another unusual occurrence.

“I love you, Walter.”

Blódhundr carefully removes their helmet. Something they haven’t done in many years. Walter is honored to witness such an event, and is taken aback by their gentle beauty. Their face is quite pale, rarely having seen the sun in any world, yet Walter sees a great passion in them. Blódhundr’s white-blue eyes meet Walter’s remaining brown, and they hold each-other close, listening to the song still playing from the phone that Elliot was kind enough to leave on the bar, desperately wanting to stay that way for all eternity. May all others take their best shot, though it's very likely that no-one in this good universe could tear them apart.

Ooh, am I the only one?

I think it might be fun

Drop everything and run

Ooh, you look so fit to kill

World explodes and I’m with you still

Hypnotized in your cherry thrill

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