#seriously why did i write this i have no defence

[thefrogdalorian]

Welcome Home, Son

Word Count: 4,166 Rating: Teen Summary: Din Djarin finds himself back on a mysterious planet that is strangely familiar to him, despite the years that have passed since he last stepped foot on it. A visit to the cabin he once shared with his family brings Din face-to-face with someone he never imagined he would again encounter for the rest of his days. Content Warnings: Grief, PTSD, survivor's guilt, grieving for parents. Author's Note: I started writing this last month, but a conversation with @djarinmuse inspired me to finish it tonight. When reading back after I finished I was like "oops this is emotional, who hurt you" so I'm sorry, and the answer is Jon Favreau, I guess. But I'm also not sorry... writing Din like this (weirdly) sparks joy.

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My Masterlist

It was seemingly early evening. The sun had apparently already set, as the sky was a striking shade of rapidly darkening blue. Yet, the mysterious planet was not yet plunged into the blackness of night. The man's eyes began to adjust as he surveyed the scene before him, looking for clues as to where exactly in the galaxy he currently found himself.

As he gazed around at the strangely familiar architecture, he realised in disbelief that he had somehow returned to the planet of his birth.

Several small cabins lining the main street were already glowing a pale orange from the small windows that offered a peek inside. A few of them had smoke slowly snaking their way into the serene sky from the chimneys. It was a galaxy apart from the condition the planet was in the last time he had stepped foot here. The smoke he had observed rising back then had been from the devastating destruction; that utter carnage that had robbed him of everyone he had ever loved and everything he had ever known. 

The sound of tiny feet pattering against the ground as a few children passed next to him, scampering down the road and giggling playfully as they went, caused him to turn his helmeted head and watch them closely. He noticed that they were still dressed in the distinctive dark red robes that, he too, had grown up wearing. The looming, solitary figure watched as the children disappeared into a cabin, feeling a pang of grief and longing for the life he had lost. Their carefree nature caused his eyes to fill with silent, unshed tears – known only to him thanks to the helmet he wore – as he stood there, taking in the sight. He had been just like them once, running through these streets without a care in the galaxy.

It had been so many years since Din Djarin had stepped foot on this planet. But it was as familiar to him as the day he had left all that time ago, wrapped protectively in the arms of the warrior that had saved him from certain death here on Aq Vetina, as they jetted upwards, towards a different life. Now, somehow, fate had brought him back to this very place where everything had changed for him.

If anyone here who remained remembered the small dark haired boy from all those years ago, they would not recognise the form he took now. The hulking Mandalorian's features were hidden by the helmet which perfectly matched the rest of his unpainted Beskar armour, still gleaming despite the low light. A satchel was slung casually across his shoulders, resting against his side, slightly obscured by the dark, tattered cape that he wore around his neck. Din placed a protective gloved hand on the satchel, for it contained the most precious thing in the galaxy to him.

Din stood there quietly for a few more seconds, taking in how surreal it was to be back. When he had departed this place, barely anything remained. On that terrible day, most of the planet's recognisable landmarks and features were reduced to smoking piles of rubble. But it appeared they had mostly been rebuilt over the time that had passed. Standing here, in this street, was the most surreal sensation, as though Din was seeing a ghost. He shook his head slightly and finally moved, finding his feet guided as though by some immovable force. That day, he had never had the opportunity to spy what happened to his cabin. His eyes had watered from the cold air that rushed around him as the Mandalorian carried him far from the battered surface, and he had not been able to get a good look at what remained. But now, perhaps he would get the answers to its fate that had haunted him for so many years.

Despite the decades that had passed, Din found that he remembered the route to what had once been his cabin perfectly. It was set slightly back from the main street. As Din traversed the path that led to his home, he felt his pulse rate quicken. His heart pounded in his chest, he heard it reverberating in his ear drums. What if he did not receive the answers he was so desperately searching for?

The street was slightly secluded from the hubbub of the main thoroughfare but it was still in a convenient location. Din’s friends lived dotted around the various cabins that lined his route to his former home. As he passed the memorable locations, he recalled how easily his group of friends had been able to assemble for days of fun in no time at all. They would dash from cabin to cabin, weaving between the crowds of bemused adults, calling for their friends to join them for what were, at the time, seemingly endless days of fun. Until they had ended.

That was something that had always struck Din, whenever he was reminiscing about his past life during those formative painful, lonely nights in the covert on Concordia where he had been taken – how perfect his life on Aq Vetina had been. A child should never have to contend with the number of burdens that Din at such a tender age. Reminiscing as an adult gave Din a new perspective on that devastation; he frequently found himself grieving for his younger self. That small boy did not deserve a single one of the terrible things that had happened to him. 

Din strode down the street purposefully, despite his nerves. But as he approached the end of the street, where his family's cabin was once located, Din felt all hope leave his body, the spark cruelly extinguished.

The cabin was dark. 

Clearly, no one lived here anymore. Imagining that his parents had survived such carnage had been an absurd notion and Din was momentarily disgusted with himself for ever being delusional enough to believe such a miracle could actually have been possible. 

Then, he was angry. Furious that this golden opportunity to get answers would yield no such outcome. How unjust that fate had caused him to step foot here, yet they would not allow him to gain closure. He would leave here none the wiser to the fate of his parents.

Din allowed the sorrow to sweep in then. He felt profound sadness that there were to be no answers; that he would never find out what had happened to his beloved parents. For a moment, when he had arrived here, he had visions of his mother gathering him in his arms, holding the back of his head with her hand just as she did on that terrible day. Except this time, her face would not be lined with anguish and terror at the impending doom that was exploding all around him… this time she would be able to appreciate the man he had become. 

Din had imagined his father placing his large, warm hand on his cheek, his face inches away, their identical brown eyes gazing into each other’s as Din explained the facial hair he kept was his way of honouring him. Din’s voice would crack as he spoke, telling them that all these years he had thought they were dead. But he had never stopped missing them, or loving them, not for one single second.

But it was not to be.

Din stood there for a few more seconds, the anguish squeezing his inside until he almost felt as though he was going to suffocate from the agony. He was about to turn on his heel and walk away, when something inside him stopped him and made him turn towards the cabin. Even if there was indeed no one inside, Din could at least step foot in the first place he had ever called home.

As Din approached the cabin, he knew with absolute certainty that this was the place where he had been born. It was unmistakably the place where he had spent such a happy childhood, with the parents who were entirely devoted to him and to each other. Before their futures had curelly been snatched away by the Separatist battle droids. The doors and windows were exactly as he remembered; the domed roof matched with the rest of the traditional architecture on Aq Vetina.

Din took a deep breath as he raised a gloved hand to the door. Then he pushed the polished wooden surface, and stepped over the threshold, simultaneously unprepared for and desperate to see what lay beyond.

In the darkness, it took a few seconds for Din’s eyes to adjust to make sense of the sight before him. There was no light coming from outside the cabin, and with no lit fire, there was certainly no light emanating from within. But once Din’s eyes had adjusted, he noticed a shock of maroon belonging to a form in the main room of the cabin. 

There was a figure hunched over the fireplace. Whoever was there appeared to be placing some wood on it to light the fire. Once Din’s eyes adjusted further, he noticed how impossibly tiny the figure appeared. The slender figure was frail, clearly of an advanced age. Could it really be her?

Din was about to call his mother’s name into the darkness, to check that it really was her. But a small sound cut him off. 

“Who is it? Who’s there?” A shaky voice asked into the darkness as its hunched figure straightened.

“It’s… me, Ma,” Din replied, swallowing thickly and forcing his shoulders back, to stand tall in front of her, despite how much he was trembling.

“Din? Is that… is that really you?” The woman asked in disbelief, as she shakily shuffled through the cabin and approached the door, where Din stood, unmoving.

“Yes, Ma. It’s me,” Din nodded. “I never thought I’d see you again,” Din whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling thickly with the emotion of the moment. 

“You were just a little boy the last time I saw you, now look at you. You’re a man,” The elderly woman said admiringly, as she came to stand in front of the hulking frame of her beloved son, with his broad shoulders accentuated by the meticulously polished armour that he wore. "Oh, Din. I wish I could have started this fire, so I could get a proper look at you."

“Would you like me to help you light it?” Din asked, nodding in the direction of the fireplace where his mother had been hunched when he had made his surprise entrance into the cabin. 

“Please,” Din’s mother nodded appreciatively. “I always struggle with the matches,” She grumbled.

As Din made his way towards the fireplace, his hands instinctively came towards his helmet. If he was going to put some fire into the room, he didn’t want his mother to be greeted with only the unrelenting blackness of his T-visor. He wanted her to be able to gaze into his eyes, the brown eyes that were so much like her own.

At that moment, thoughts of the Creed he had sworn, of his redemption in the Living Waters beneath the Mines of Mandalore, were forgotten. Din could not pass up on an opportunity like this. Besides, wasn’t family a fundamental part of what it meant to be Mandalorian? How could a way of life that taught that above anything deny a mother and son bonding again in this way, after so many years of torturous separation?

Din noticed the wood that had already been neatly placed in the fireplace, he reached for the box of matches on top of the mantlepiece. It was strange, the last time he had been here, he had looked up to the mantlepiece, it towered over him as though it was the largest thing he had ever seen. Now, though, Din was a hulking man, who loomed large over the mantlepiece, dwarfing everything else in the room. 

The match sparked as it struck the textured paper, before catching light. Din lowered it down to the woods, blowing on it to get the fire going, mimicking the memories from childhood of his father lighting a fire in this very place so many times. Din’s father had made it look so effortless, even when his hands were trembling from the cold that necessitated lighting a fire. The three of them would then huddle by the fire, Din, his mother and his father. 

His father.

Din had been so taken aback by his surprise reunion with his mother that he had not even considered his father's notable absence. Perhaps he was out running an errand in the town? If his mother had survived, then surely his father had, too? The last he had seen of them, they had been together after they pushed him into the below-ground cellar, where he had sheltered from the destructive rampage. Where was he now?

But before Din could ponder his father's fate any further, the fire caught, and a warm orange glow filled the cabin. Din stood up from the crouched position by the fire, careful not to disturb the satchel still slung around his body. 

He turned around and could now freely gaze at the face he had been convinced he would never see again. Now his helmet was no longer darkening the already poorly-lit cabin, Din could look at his mother properly. The last time he had seen her, she had been so young, probably even younger than Din was now, a thought that was strangely disturbing to him. Din could not even contemplate the horror of losing a child at such a young age.

Even though the years had altered some of his mother's features, so much of her was instantly recognisable to Din. From her long, wavy hair that trailed down her back and around her shoulders, once the same shade of brown as Din’s but now greyed with age; to her deep brown eyes and distinctive nose, shaped so much like Din’s. It was a rare nose shape that he had not often encountered, but seeing his mother share the features made Din feel less alone in the vast galaxy. There were heavy wrinkles lining her forehead and deep bags underneath her eyes. Din thought his mother looked as though she had lived with a great deal of pain for a long time. He felt terrible, knowing that most of it was undoubtedly his fault. He cursed himself for not returning to her sooner. But Din had been so terrified that his worst fears would be confirmed: he was the last, the only survivor from that torrid day on Aq Vetina. So he ran from job to job, through every corner of the galaxy. Until he met Grogu.

As Din had been taking in her mother’s face, she, too, had been gazing at the son she idolised and adored. She was mystified by his sudden arrival, her eyes widened and her lips parted in awe. Din’s mother had long feared that her son had never survived his ordeal in the cellar; to the best of her knowledge, he had vanished without a trace from Aq Vetina. The woman consoled herself in the immediate aftermath with visions of Din getting away, growing into a handsome and strong young man, a fantasy that she had continued into her old age, that had wrapped its arms around her and comforted her when there had no longer been a physical presence remaining to do so. 

“Oh, you look so handsome. Look at you.” Din’s mother murmured, as she gently cupped the stubbly cheek of the son she had believed was long dead in her frail left hand.

Her hands were wrinkled and weathered with age, but they still felt as soft as Din remembered them from his childhood. Din squeezed his eyes shut at the contact, unused to feeling the warmth of another human being on his face in this way. It was overwhelming, almost painful.

“You look so much like your father,” Din’s mother said as she stood back to admire him. “He would be so proud of you.”

“My father?” Din’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Is he here?” He asked hopefully.

“No, Din… that day. He didn’t make it.” Din’s mother said simply, feeling that it was best to get to the point. Her face dropped from the proud, stunned expression she had been wearing as she gazed at her son to one of deep sorrow.

“Oh…” Din said, his brow furrowing as the news he had feared was relayed to him. “Then, how did you survive?” Din questioned, struggling to process how she had possibly made it out alive, when his father had been cut down so brutally.

“Yes, after we put you in the cellar that day he… he lingered just a second too long after we shut the door. He was closer to the explosion,” Din’s mother explained. “There was nothing that could be done. I’m sorry, Din. He loved you so much, with his dying wish… he wanted you to be safe. If he could see you now… he would be so proud.”

“I know. I understand that kind of love for myself, now,” Din nodded. But before he could dwell on his parental pride, Din’s thoughts turned to concern for his mother. “What were you doing without having a fire lit?”

“Oh, Din,” Din’s mother sighed, looking towards the floor in shame. “The nights get so cold, my hands don’t work the same as they used to. I struggle to gather the wood, to light the fire.”

Din shook his head and stepped towards the tiny woman, suddenly feeling a strong protective urge blossom somewhere deep inside him. Din reached out and placed his hand on the top of her arm, his gloved fingers reaching out to grip her arm tightly, as though afraid she would slip away from him once more. 

“I’m here now, Ma. I’m going to take care of you.” Din pledged solemnly.

“Thank you, Din,” The old lady nodded in gratitude, before wrapping her arms around his waist, searching for the warm, fleshy parts of her son that she could feel between the cold, hard armour. Din’s mother leaned in for a hug. 

For the few seconds the two remaining Djarins spent standing there, bodies close together in the small cabin on Aq Vetina, Din felt all the hurt beginning to lessen. The years of suffering, of agonising over her fate, had been replaced by gratitude that his mother had survived, despite all the odds against her. Din would properly process the loss of his father in the time to come. But for now, he relished the warm embrace of his mother. His chin resting on her thick grey hair, as he inhaled her familiar scent. It did not last, though.

“Maker, that’s cold!” Din’s mother exclaimed as she took an alarmed step back, out of the tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I don’t often… hug people in this thing,” Din shook his head as he gestured towards his armour. 

“Well, I suppose I should ask about the story behind you wearing all of that,” Din’s mother returned the gesture, her hand reaching out in the direction of his impressive Beskar’gam.

“I was rescued by Mandalorians. I was taken to a moon called Concordia, by their homeplanet of Mandalore. The Mandalorians that rescued me adhered to a strict creed. I was required to hide my face behind a helmet from a young age,” Din clarified the reason for his elaborate armour.

“My son, a Mandalorian…” Din’s mother murmured as she shook her head in shock. “I cannot believe it. I always knew you would do great things, Din.”

Din swallowed thickly, knowing that his past was far more complicated than his mother could possibly imagine. It was true that he had done a great many things she could be proud of, but it was equally true that she would probably not be able to look him in the eye if she knew the destruction and depravity he had been known to unleash throughout the galaxy.

But there was one thing above all else, that Din was undeniably proud of. That he knew would make his mother proud, too. Din knew it was now time to introduce them.

“There’s… there’s someone I want you to meet.” Din said nervously, as he moved the satchel he had been periodically placing a protective hand on throughout their conversation around to his front. 

Din’s hands were trembling as his gloved hand opened the bag. The brown material was lifted, and familiar green ears of the child who had changed Din’s life suddenly poked out.

“This is my son, Grogu.” Din said proudly, feeling his eyes burn with tears, as he introduced his adopted family to the final surviving member of his biological family.

Grogu’s head peeped up beyond the bag where he had been comfortably resting, accustomed to being carried around in such a manner. His big brown eyes blinked a few times, adjusting to the light after so much time spent in the darkness of the satchel.

“Oh, Din. He’s precious,” His mother clasped her hand over her mouth at the sight of her grandson. “I always hoped that you would be a father, have a family of your own.”

“I never thought I would be a father, myself. I used to be a bounty hunter. Grogu was actually a target of mine. After I turned him in, I realised how innocent and defenceless he was,” Din said, swallowing thickly as he looked down at the tiny, innocent baby who he had once so callously betrayed. Indeed, the heavy armour that his mother had admired had been the spoils of his sin. “I had to go back to get him. We’ve been together ever since. I adopted him, he’s my son now.”

“Din, that’s wonderful. I don’t blame you, look at him. What an adorable little thing. How could anyone ever want to hurt him?” Din’s mother stepped towards them. “I’ve never seen anything like him.”

“Neither had I,” Din added in agreement. “He used to be a Jedi. Grogu had the chance to become one again but he chose…” Din swallowed, suddenly overcome with emotion when he remembered the enormity of Grogu’s decision. “He chose to come back to me.”

“The Jedi… I know them,” Din’s mother nodded. “I thought they were all long dead.”

“So did I, but I have encountered them throughout my travels,” Din recalled. “They are few in number now, but there are some left. Just like Mandalorians, they have survived.”

“Can I… would you mind if I held him?” Din’s mother asked nervously.

“Of course you can,” Din nodded encouragingly. 

But as he moved to take Grogu from the satchel and carefully place his son into his mother’s arms, the child began to whine furiously. As Din lifted Grogu up, all the warmth placed into the room, thanks to the fire he had just lit, was rapidly sucked out of the cabin. Din felt cold. His mother’s face swirled, distorted before him.

Suddenly, everything faded to black.

*

Din awoke with a start. He was still in a cabin, but it was not his family’s cabin on Aq Vetina. He was on Nevarro, in the little home he shared with his son. 

It was the middle of the night, there was hardly any light, but Din could hear Grogu’s steady breathing and the weight of his child slumbering peacefully on his chest. Din also felt the way Grogu’s tiny claw was splayed against his cheek.

There had been no reunion on Aq Vetina, Din realised. The thought distressed him, but it did not surprise him. His parents were still gone. Grogu was all he had. 

Din leaned down to press a kiss to Grogu’s wrinkled forehead, feeling the fine white hairs tickle his upper lip and nose. Their bond, their closeness… it was just as profound as the love he had felt for his parents. Time had not diminished that, and Din knew that for as long as Grogu lived, for the centuries the child would likely outlive him, Grogu’s love for the Mandalorian who had rescued him and taken him in would never diminish. Din understood that the love a child had for their parents was a force more powerful than anything else he had encountered, in all of his travels throughout the galaxy. It was more powerful than anger, or hate, or fear.

With that in mind, Din placed his hand on Grogu’s back and hugged his son a little tighter than usual. Grogu was all the family Din had, he was all the family Din would ever have. It was a thought that had brought Din to his knees and humbled him countless times over the years since he had encountered Grogu on Arvala-7.

Tonight, as Din felt the little boy nuzzle into his broad chest, it did so again.

[luveline]

Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides. 

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out. 

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?” 

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?” 

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.” 

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.” 

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?” 

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function. 

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger. 

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes. 

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.” 

“Come in, please.” 

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual. 

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?” 

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.” 

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.” 

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.” 

“It’s about that.” 

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.” 

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.” 

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?” 

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.” 

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? 

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you. 

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson. 

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask. 

“Months ago.” 

“And Sandy said yes.” 

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.” 

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid. 

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest. 

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.” 

“I need to go and tell Spencer.” 

“Spencer, your good friend.” 

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.” 

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for. 

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.” 

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says. 

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud. 

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder. 

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek. 

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” 

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.” 

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says. 

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds. 

[ryin-silverfish]

Ask/Writing Masterlist (irregularly updating)

Ryin(阿璎), 23. She/They. First Gen Chinese student. Ryin_Silverfish on AO3. Currently hyperfixating on old Chinese novels. casual Zhiguai tales and LMK enjoyer.

Investiture of the Gods/FSYY:

Why are the Daoist immortals fighting?

Did Yuanshi Tianzun manipulate Shen Gongbao?

Chan, Jie, and possible prejudice against yaoguai

Azure Lion and the other Bodhisattvas' steeds in FSYY

Daji's fox form in FSYY Pinghua

The historical Su Daji

Is Shen Gongbao a yaoguai?

Are all yaoguai irredeemable monsters in FSYY?

Ao Bing and the dragons Nezha fought

Does deification wipe your memory and personality?

Bi Gan and the Great Fox Massacre

More discussion about prejudice against yaoguai

How old was Su Daji the human when she died?

Differences between FSYY novel and Pinghua

Musing on FSYY's view of fate and its possible effects on Yang Jian

Master Yuding

The messy marriages of FSYY

Is Daji a goddess in the novel?

Names of immortal masters in FSYY

Just for fun: the FSYY drinking game

Nezha's age in FSYY

Nezha's death and resurrection in FSYY

What happened to the original Daji?

Lady Shiji aka the Rock Demoness

Chinese Fox Spirits:

Auspicious/Demonic Foxes

More on fox spirits

The inner core of foxes

Foxes and their association with Fire

Notable fox spirits

The foxes of 狐狸缘全传

Has Daji ever been worshipped as a goddess?

Fox masks

The foxes of Liaozhai

Weaknesses and abilities of fox spirits

Three resource collections on Chinese fox spirits: 1, 2, 3

Human-fox hybrids

Can foxes and their descendents magically know if someone's telling the truth?

The magical properties of fox saliva

Fox exams and Heavenly Foxes

Are male foxes more malicious?

More on fox exams

Offerings to fox spirits

The "Lady Fox Immortal"

Chinese Mythos in General:

The Precious Scroll of Erlang

Into the Erlang-verse: Li, Zhao, Yang

Can immortal masters romance their students?

Why we don't power-rank characters in God-Demon novels

A brief overview of Chang'e

On Chinese Religion and "Respect"

The 28 Lunar Mansions

Can the Heavenly Emperor be replaced + a primer on dynastic successions

A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)

Is Nüwa JE's daughter?

Weaver Girl

Can yaoguais a/o their descendents enter the Celestial Bureaucracy?

Queen Mother of the West and her husband(s)

Bixia Yuanjun, Lady of Mt. Tai

Erlang's dad

The story that gives us the name "Yang Jian"

On the transformation of Erlang's image (and his relationship with JE in JTTW)

Erlang's mom, Lotus Lantern, and a neat little discovery

Erlang cameos in other stories and Zajus

Erlang's mom-saving story in Chinese operas

Child Manjushri, or: the absurdity of pinning a definitive age on gods

The strange modern ship of Mengpo/Yuelao, and Mengpo's myths

The half-beast form of QMoW

Does Erlang have a wife/love interest?

Nezha's mom

A overview of Gonggong and his mythos

Some introductory sources on the Chinese Underworld

Mythos-inspired Worldbuilding:

Dragons of the Four Seas

LMK S5 and a possible "Celestial Council of Regents" AU

LMK S5 Fix-it: the Four Divine Beasts

Character/Story Analysis (JTTW + LMK)

Heart and Mind: Tripitaka

Local Lion Uncle enjoyer goes on a rant

On SWK and his fear of death

Why the Dead People Supreme Court?

No, seriously, why?

Chinese Underworld =/= Christian Hell

LMK S4, Havoc in Heaven, and revolutions

Why I dislike the "class warfare" reading of Havoc in Heaven

In Defence of Li Jing...ha, as fucking if

On Yin-Yang, Chaos/Order, and the Harbringer

JTTW's view on the Three Religions

Disjointed S5 Reactions

"Chaos doesn't work that way in traditional Chinese Cosmology"

Xiangliu, the Nine-headed Bird, and Jiutou Chong

Lotus Lantern: The Summaries

Part 1: Precious Scroll of Chenxiang

Part 2: The Epic of Prince Chenxiang

Part 3: Lotus Lantern 1.0 + 2.0

Part 4: Chenxiang and the Male-Female Swords

My Fanfics:

Climbing the Sky

The Wild Son

Bodhicitta

The Serpent and the Deluge

South Seas Sojourn

Journey of the Gods AU sideblog

Masterpost 2

[breedingdoll]

Can you talk a bit about your Daddies?

omg i'd fucking love to!! gonna use the emojis i use to tag them with because i'm not sure if all of them are comfy being outted and wanna keep it lowkey.

😵‍💫 - One of the first people I talked to and the person who convinced me to give the term Daddy a try (it used to be a soft limit). First person I allowed to actually dominate me seriously as well. I gave him a stalker kink which is a crowning achievement. He very much likes me embarrassing myself because he finds it cute. His RPs are so much fun, we did a great cam model one that I should talk about at some point. We don't play much atm but he's very important to me.

🍒 - Technically came next. He's really fucking good at getting into my head and messing around with it and has made me admit to the most embarrassing and mortifying things. He writes insanely good stories and his ideas are so fucking good I love when he shares them with me. Plays into emotional manipulation the best and bullies me so fucking hard. I like watching thriller movies/shows with him and making really fucked jokes lol. Deserves a deskpet.

🎩 - I met him second on my main, but life stuff happened and he disappeared!!! Then he came back and now I'm his happy princess. I start and end most days talking with him and he teases me to insane levels before one of us has to sleep. Scarily good at wearing down my defences until I'm doing things I never thought I'd be doing. We talk about mutual obsession a lot. He's stupid levels of smart and it scares the fuck of me, but like the others, I trust him implicitly.

🩰 - Messaged him on a whim and got ensnared so fucking quickly which checks out given I'd been guility looking at his blog for years. Really cemented the whole gender traitor thing that my first Daddy started because he made me so eager to please him and the others like jfc. Literally has an evil laugh when I'm pathetic for him. Wants to beat me up when I do a good job and also turn me into his little subby yandere that beats up other girls for him too.

I'm genuinely on good terms with all of them even outside of just kink which is what really makes the dynamic for me. They each have their own things that make me so happy and I'd happily gush about all four of them all day.

And this is why they deserve me breaking down other girls or sending them girls being porn for them for their amusement 🥰

[angelfandomfan]

note: I think i will start writting maybe a little thing Warnings: Bad english (because i'm french and it's my first time writting a story IN ENGLISH), blood, maybe death, kidnapping mention yay, weak ALSO, IF SOMEONE WANT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING ELSE- ASK MEH

Yandere!hunter X monster reader -----------------------------------------------

It is a story about a big scary monster that lived in the woods, a monster that had three eyes and wings that looked like demon's wings, the monster eats children! Says the old woman, some peoples belived for this story; and you did. Before being turned into one.. Before, you were a beautiful lady, with a lot of ease in your life, you had enough money to live easily, you were kind to everyone.. helped everyone.. before knowing that they were just using you- Just because THEY were lazy, the day you turned into a monster is when you helped an old lady and you suspected her to be a witch because of course she was showing some clues and when you hold here hand to help her, you got an huge pain and you just turned into a monster, so you just ran into a forest. And now that peoples saw YOU in your monster form, they were scared, so scared that now they engaged a hunter to kill you! TO KILL YOU! SERIOUSLY!! The so called hunter, you heard from eavesdropping was called Lucian, and he was now tracking you in the woods, you had before a lot of hunters that tried to kill you but they all died because of their own traps or because you pushed them on a trap because you were doing self defence, and people just won't understand! You had to suffer because of THEM, OF. SIMPLE. VILLAGERS.

You really were angry at them, but you couldn't do anything because YOU are the so called monster, but why, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SUFFER?, YOU DID NOTHING WRONG. So, to calm yourself you decided to go toward a lake and to drink in it, but why? Because now that you turned into a "monster" you could now drink water directly from the lake, and also because you were a part deer, that crazy right? you had antlers. FUCKING. ANTLERS.

At first you were scared, to find out that you had antlers, but now.. not really like you got used to it. So now let talk about Lucian Lucian, is a tall, muscular guy and he's also a serious person, you also tried to stalk him a little but you don't know how but he always manage to find you, but you always run away before he could do anything. Lucian, him was dumbfounded (or dump, idk) the first moment he saw you, oh gosh you were so beautiful, a beautiful skin and eyes, oh gosh he just want you.. to possess you.. just for him. He doesn't care that the villagers will be mad at him, he just want you.

The first time he met you, he was walking through the woods to hunt you with his crossbow and when he saw a sort of deer on two legs he aimed it and then shot, but then the moment he shot he saw your visage, your beautiful face. Oh gosh he was so sorry that he hurted you with an arrow of his crossbow, if he knew and saw your face before shooting, you wouldn't been hurt.

YOU WOULDN'T BEEN HURT.

YOU WOULDN'T BEEN HURT.

YOU WOULDN'T BEEN HURT.

YOU WOULDN'T BEEN HURT.

YOU WOULDN'T BEEN HURT.

YOU WOULDN'T BEEN HURT.

And he kept saying this to his mind until he finally stops, you were bleeding because of him.

And so Lucian kept stalking you, over and over just to know more about you. He was scared to scare you if he tried to talk to you, so he was just stalking you, and he liked when YOU were stalking him, oh gosh it was so cute. And he decided to give you food everydays, again and again, until you finally start eating the food he was giving you, on a plate, and little by little he was getting closer to you, before he was 15 metters from you, then 10, then 5 then 2, then 1. Oh gosh, he really liked to be SO close from you, and that you didn't run away, little did you know that he was feeding you something that was making you weaker every days you were eating the food, you were feeling weak, and Lucian just told you that you were maybe not digesting at all because you didn't eating this food long time ago. But that in reality, Lucian was making you weak only to be able to kidnap you with you that won't be able to escape. So he did this, the day where you were finally extremelly weak, he picked you up and started walking away with you, oh gosh you were going to be with him forever. "You will never be able to escape me, my little deer~"

[cher-rei]

afterglow- pt 6 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff

[wc: 4.6K] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

notes: this chapter is a bit longer but it was so funny to write. and of course, it was sitting in my drafts for like 50 years... enjoy!

if someone were to ask you to pick between your mother and your father you wouldn't be able to answer the question, much like most people in the world. they both offered qualities you needed respectively and you were grateful to have them both in your life. kind of.

seeing as you spent most of your life in london, despite being born in liverpool you grew up with your mother and spent a solid 22 years in her presence with nowhere to go. you loved it in london, it was your home and you couldn't let it go. but what it lacked was your father— your best friend.

you were living with him right now because of the whole "alex has chicken pox" situation but you were welcomed home to a facetime from your nephew so that was fun. it was easier with your father, you didn't have to walk on eggshells around him, you could talk about anything and laugh about everything together and that's what you loved about him— his neverending support.

it started with taking you to football practice without your mother knowing, her thinking that he was accompanying you to weekly ballet. when instead, he'd have your kit in the car ready at all times, and supporting you from the sidelines all the way until high school.

and then when your mum was against your university major in marketing instead of law as you had "agreed" upon, your father took the drive from liverpool to london so that he could have a chat with her. and to your surprise she gave up and let you do as you pleased with much reluctance.

so when they got the divorce when you were 16 and he moved back to liverpool, the decision was seamless but you still stayed with your mother seeing as maya already had a job position on that side. after all, you couldn't leave your mother alone. the woman gave birth to you for crying out loud.

all that just for you to move to liverpool eventually because of a really bad break-up. which brought you to your current point— the one where your father wanted to wring every single man's neck no matter how they looked at you.

you felt like a teenager sneaking out like this but you had no other choice. you were going on a drive to lord knows where with a freaken football player, "the most unloyal men on this planet", as your father liked to say.

but of course, he had to catch you in the act, a look of confusion plastered on his face as he stood in the living room, getting ready for bed. "why are you walking around like you did something wrong?" he gasped at your guilty expression, "are you leaving me already? you're just like your mother."

your anxiety vanished in an instant at his joke, an attempt to get the truth out of you. "it's too late to be making jokes like that."

he crossed his arms over his chest. "and it's too late for you to be walking around the house like you're in the 'quiet place'. seriously jamie, why are you tiptoeing?"

you raised your hands in defence, "I thought you were sleeping. my bad for being considerate."

he let out an unconvinced hum and eyed you up and down. he took in the fact that you were in a pair of sweats and a navy blue zip-up hoodie. "you're not a teenager anymore." he shook his head and let out an amused chuckle.

you watched as he made his way to the kitchen and you couldn't help but follow behind him, "what's that supposed to mean?"

he didn't answer your question for a moment and continued to rummage through the fridge for something, happily taking out a box of doughnuts you two had bought earlier. "it means that you can leave the house when you want to. just tell me first."

it was times like this that you forgot you were an adult. to be fair you never really considered yourself to be one, or to act like one either. "oh." there was a moment of silence that passed but it was interrupted by your phone going off.

the way that you darted to check the message said enough to your father, and he let out another amused chuckle. "go on now. don't keep the boy waiting."

your eyes widened in shock, your mouth dry in disbelief but he waved you off. "leave before I go outside to meet him. or should I just--"

"--stay here! I'll be home soon!"

"so do you always drag girls out of bed to keep you company in your car?"

trent rolled his eyes at your question from the driver's seat but kept his attention on the empty road, only the city lights illumating the dark night. "first of all: I didn't drag you out of bed, you could have said no. and second: no I don't usually do this."

you looked at him with your eyes narrowed, not sure what possessed him to call you at 10 in the evening for a drive. "oh so I get special privileges now? care to explain why?"

"I just wanted to go for a drive that's all," he answered honestly with a shrug of his shoulders but that still wasn't quite the answer you were looking for.

you fought back your amused smile. "you have friends for that trent, I'm sure."

the car stopped at a red light which allowed him to look over at you sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of his car. it wasn't the first time after all— there were many trips to the academy, sometimes having to shoot content with him and even that one morning when he picked you up at your sister's apartment for work.

you'd never forget that day and the innocent look on his face when he called you to say that he was outside just as you were grabbing your car keys. it was strange but you didn't mind it.

he let out a sigh and continued to drive after the light had turned green. "all my friends prefer to spend their evenings with their girlfriends and wives so yeah no thanks. and besides--" he shot you an appointed look, "--are we not friends?"

your mouth dried up. that was a little more than you wanted to get out of him, not sure how to respond. colleagues? definitely. banter buddies? sure. but friends?? you were sure that there was some sort of boundary for that and you were never sure if you two had managed to get there yet.

"you could have asked skylar."

oh shit.

you bit your tongue in immediate regret. it was a genuine accident at how quickly it left from your lips and telling by the flicker in trrent's expression, you had hit a nerve. you were just about to apologise when he interjected.

"skylar," he emphasized her name, his lips curved into a smile as he spoke to you, "wouldn't be caught dead eating takeout in a mcdonald's parking lot at 10 in the evening with me though."

you didn't know what to think of his answer, but instead of overthinking it, you decided to make the most of the moment at least. there was no point in making this awkward and it's not like you didn't enjoy his company. trent was easy to be around. most of the time.

so that's how you found yourself parked at the far end of an empty mcdonald's parking lot with hardly any street lights in sight. you unbuckled your seat belt and reclined the seat further back for some more leg room, trent watching you as you did so.

"oh, you're definitely not new to this."

which was true, you weren't. you've had your fair share of late-night drives to get some fresh air back in london. the only difference was the person you were with, a distant memory that you weren't too fond with but maintained at the back of your mind.

you were sat with a large fries, a chocolate milkshake and a mcflurry. you dubbed it the ultimate late-night combo and trent was eager enough to take your word for it, and to his surprise it did not disappoint despite being so simple.

it didn't take long for the atmosphere to clear and for you to ease into conversation. dabbling a bit in random aspects of your lives, to movies, to football and to just nothing. you loved how easygoing it was, not much thought had to be put into anything you said which left you with room to just relax.

"so your mum's not from liverpool?"

you shook your head and took another sip from your milkshake. "she's from london, my dad's from liverpool. but they lived together here for a bit, and two or three years after I was born we moved back to london."

the explanation made trent tutt in disappointment. "and here I thought you were a purebred brit. your accent's probably fake too."

"the accent is real thank you very much," you defended with a hand to your chest.

he quirked a brow, "let's be honest here. you probably dated colwill. you were probably neighbours or something."

your eyes widened a fraction at his comment in utter shock. "levi?" well wasn't this just lovely, you couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "he's three years younger than I am."

trent scrunched his face at you, not convinced by your answer almost as if he knew something you didn't. "age is just a number or whatever they say. but no," he thought for a moment, "you couldn't have been with him because he would have said something by now."

it was strange to see this considering that trent literally played with levi in the england team, so the dots would've been connected long ago if you were in fact in cahoots with levi. it was quite the compliment, knowing that you were paired up with someone that attractive.

"if I were with levi then I wouldn't be in liverpool right now. I'd be back in london living my best life." your answer seemed to pique trent's interest, questions bubbling at his throat the more he found out about you.

"why is it that you left london?" he leant back into the seat, his full attention now on you in the dimly lit car. "I'm sure it's not just because of work."

oh definitely not. you just happened to get lucky there.

your lips pursed as you thought, not sure just how much he wanted to know or how much you were willing to tell. but it wouldn't hurt right?

"uhm," you cleared your throat, "bad breakup."

trent's intrigue increased at your answer, one that he wasn't expecting to be honest. he was expecting something more along the lines of running away from home because your parents' divorce or to be closer to maya.

"you don't look like the relationship type," he answered truthfully and your eyes widened in slight shock, feelings mixed and a bitter taste in your mouth.

how were you supposed to interpret that? negatively? positively? was he calling you independent?? the internal struggle was mind boggling.

you pushed the comment to the back of your mind and let out a hum. "no yeah, he cheated on me."

"oh fuck."

"with my best friend."

"oh fuck."

a laugh escaped your mouth at his reaction and how it got progressively more concerned with each passing second, and your nonchalance wasn't making him feel any better. he fumbled over his words for a bit, switching between the usual "I'm so sorry" and "you've got to be joking right now".

you assured him that you were fine, a closed lippsed smile drawn across your lips. "but like hey," you raised your hands jokjngly, "his name was michael so..."

trent blew out a breath at that and quirked a brow. "yeah, no you definitely asked for it then."

your rolled your eyes and played along for a moment, "I know right. and it didn't help that she was literally his best friend before we got together."

it was every cliché in the book to trent which only made the situation less serious, and seeing that you weren't showing any sort of discomfort towards it he didn't stop himself from laughing and getting back at you. "you just love making horrible life choices."

you nodded eagerly in agreement, saying that it was actually your forte— a gift that you just happened to be born with. it didn't take long for you to ask trent how he didn't know about the breakup. "I'm not famous but it was all over twitter for quite some time."

you came to learn that he wasn't a social media buff and preferred to keep to himself by just staying at home and enjoying his own company and you respected him for that. for you however, it was slightly different because your entire life was on social media but you didn't regret it.

the people that you met and the content that you had the opportunity to create were more than you could ever ask for. but obviously there were the downs— public breakups, hate comments, death threats. nothing out of the ordinary. quite a bit of your life was on display for the world to see so you understood trent's want to keep his life as private as possible.

you were getting to that point as well. you had a total of two friends— maya and clara. your daily routine consisted of waking up, going to work, pilates, pop into a barnes and noble, settling in at home and going live for a few hours. that was your quiet life and you were thoroughly enjoying it.

and trent did a damn good job at keeping his life private, skylar was an absolute myth to everyone. that and you felt that it was time to shift the attention to him for a bit.

"so what happened between you and name not to be mentioned? seeing as we're getting emotional here."

he wouldn't use the word "emotional" but a heart-to-heart was blatantly taking place, even though it wasn't planned. there was a look on his face that screamed how do I explain this? and it had you chewing on your lip for answers, any sort of answer.

it took trent a moment but he eventually let his guard down. "well rumors say that I cheated on her with some random youtuber's girlfriend— which is insane by the way."

not really.

"we dated for nearly two years, she was nice, came to my matches, said I made her heart do flips or something like that." the way it fell from his lips wasn't the slightest bit tasteful, no good reminisce or fondness in his tone at all.

you continued to listen to trent as he explained his relationship with skylar a bit more, furthering into how they met and whatnot. it wasn't anything crazy, just through a mutual friend and he decided to take her on a few dates just for fun, until they're eventually hit it off.

"I thought it was going well but then she said she needed a break out of nowhere, and I was like excuse me?" he said with just as much enthusiasm as if he were still in the moment, his forehead creased in confusion as he looked at you.

he was hurt and it was subtle but not subtle enough to miss. "and she just left without explaining?"

"no," he sighed. "she said she couldn't handle the restriction and needed some time to live her life but obviously the lads thought otherwise. robbo said it was emotional manipulation but I don't know."

"that girl is insane trent. she uses your bank card more than you do. she flakes out on most of your dates and when you try to speak to her about an issue or how you're feeling she gets emotional and starts playing the victim, while you try and apologise. get her out of your life."

this was at least a ten times worse than your situation and you were sympathising at this point. skylar was in fact a manipulator and trent wholeheartedly did not want to admit that.

"and now what? she just shows up and you're fine?" the question came out a little harsher than you intended so you immediately apologized, not wanting to ruin the moment and make him feel awkward. but it was a genuine question and you were borderline worried for him.

there was a moment of silence that enveloped the two of you, filled with even more uncertainty than before. "I don't know to be honest. she hasn't said anything yet but I haven't really been in the mood to confront her yet— I have bigger things to worry about right now."

okay, that was true. his head had to be in the game, and with his team, not some girl who came to lounge around for whatever reason. but you genuinely felt bad for him, a new light shone over him after this evening— one that revealed a little more vulnerability than he let on and it tugged at your heart strings.

driving home about an hour later with that knowledge sitting at the back of your mind wasn't the easiest and you just knew that it was going to keep you up tonight. plaguing your mind, sounding over your other thoughts that were probably more important, for example— the script that you had to give to one of the p.r members for an episode of Up the Reds!, the schedule for certain uploads and how the accounts had to be managed, as well as certain photoshoots and interviews that needed to be prepared beforehand and the packing you had to finish before--

"hey sweetheart," you cooed into the receiver end of your phone which just happened to catch trent's undivided attention but yours was out the window, as you adorned a soft smile.

"don't 'hey sweetheart' me," the voice of the teenager bit back but you swear you could hear him smiling. "you didn't tell me you were making the trip."

oh, he just had to go and tell the entire world huh?

you huffed out a breath, "in my defence, I only made the decision today." an unconvinced hum rang through your hear and you stifled a laugh. "are you going to be there?"

"no duh."

you rolled your eyes at the attitude he was giving you, which was nothing out of the ordinary. "I'm leaving in two days for the week so--"

"a week??" the shock in his tone was evident and you knew were this was leading. "he convinced you to stay for the week? and you said yes?!"

"I said yes so I could spend more time with you I swear. if you really think about it, I'm doing this for you."

"hm, oh really?" he dragged out and you pursed your lips to stop the laughter from escaping your lips. "I'm holding you to this. bye I'm leaving to try and comprehend the amount of lies that just came from your mouth."

"come on you can't be a--" you interjected but the boy was adamant.

"--bye!!"

you laughed sheepishly. "I love you."

"liar!"

that was nothing short of the usual phone call you seemed to get, a ghost of a smile still on your lips as you put your phone back down into your lap while trent mustered up the courage to say something.

"so." he gained your attention, his gaze immediately averting in front of him to the empty road as he drove a little slower than usual. "you're going somewhere?"

you perked up and nodded. "It's supposed to be to relax but I'm pretty sure I'll be more stressed out on that side of the world. I'll be back by next week though."

he probably should have asked where you were going but before you knew it, you were in front of your dad's house. and as suspected, all the lights were off but you knew he wasn't sleeping. he wouldn't even think about it until he knew that you were at home safely.

it was exactly 1:42 a.m., and only then had it hit you just how long you had stayed out. trent got out of the car and watched as you walked to the front door— the urge to say something tickling at his throat. something other than "goodbye" but it wasn't there yet.

you gave him a small wave and put your hand on the door handle, but before you could turn it, it was pulled open from the inside— your dad stood against the doorframe with a sly grin that you were so close to slapping off his face but he was quick.

he put his hand out and waved at trent, the footballer slightly amused at your reaction and harsh movements to push your dad back inside, a laugh echoing as he waved back politely. "good evening mr carter."

you whipped around and sent a glare trent's way but he was far more than pleased.

"jamie, why didn't you say that your boyfriend was a footballer?"

your heart dropped to your stomach. "dad! i swear I'm going to--"

your father continued on playfully. "and he plays for us? so you do have reasonable taste in men. and here I thought I raised an idiot."

trent was as a loss for words by now, his eyes flickering from you as you tried to loosen yourself from your father's grip on your shoulders. he knew you were blushing, but his was masked well by the lack of lighting.

"anyway, thank you so much for returning my daughter in one piece trent. I hope she didn't bother you too much." he tightened his grip on you and ruffled your hair. "she's rather irritating in my opinion."

"not at all," trent managed through a laugh. "she's great company."

your father didn't agree with his answer at all and he made it blatantly obvious until he finally bid trent goodbye and got back into the house where you basically jumped onto his back, your arm wrapped around his neck in a chokehold.

"why are you like this?? I have to see him at work!"

"that's your fault for dating a colleague!"

"we're not dating!"

"that's exactly what your mother told me about her and shawn. and now look where that led us!"

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

I see your tags on the Wocky and Alita art, I would love to hear your thoughts on Alita actually!

I only need one person to show interest in what I have to say for me to talk forever and ever, thank you. HAHA Okay, in seriousness, this won't be as thorough/long as the Klavier post because... there really isn't much to her, but I find it extremely interesting how Alita falls into the same category of witnesses as April May and Dahlia without being — and I mean no offence to her when I say this — stunning? Like, with April and Dahlia, there's a very clear mass appeal to them which most people point out. Contrariwise, Alita's appearance is really only commented on by Trucy, and just glancing at her portrait, you can see that, without her slightly outlandish fashion, she's frankly nothing to write home about.

So why am I discussing this? Surely it's a little reductive to analyse female characters beginning with their appearances? Usually, yes, but that's the thing about this category of witnesses: their pretty faces aren't just pretty faces.

For April and Dahlia, their beauty is part of their arsenal. It functions as both their defence and their weapon of choice; they know how to wield it to bring people under their heel. Alita being ordinarily pretty instead of drop-dead gorgeous deprives her of that weapon and leads you to wonder how she became a mafia heiress to begin with. It also parallels her to Mimi Miney in a way that goes beyond the 'murderous nurse who worked for and killed her awful boss' comparison you get on the surface. Presumably, Alita, like Mimi, only got to where she was because she managed to fool the people around her into believing she was less dangerous than she actually is. Mimi did this by feigning stupidity and inviting people to underestimate her. Alita seems to do this by showing them what they want to see.

When she first meets Apollo and Trucy, Alita stays quiet and spends more time listening to them than she does talking. Once she has a hold on who they are, then she slips into her persona, and I find it interesting how she doesn't even attempt to come across as particularly delicate or lovelorn? Instead she goes for the relatively typical role of a distressed, indulgent loved one earnestly entreating Apollo for help. I'm inclined to say she does this because her read on Apollo makes her realise that he'd likely be exasperated or annoyed by such a person; but it's also almost as if she knows she doesn't have the disposition to pull off that frail, damsel-in-distress archetype and has resigned herself to being ordinary. Like how she looks. The next time she has to reapply her persona, Alita's appearing in court, and again she makes subtle adjustments that best suit her situation. The judge is old, so she takes a chance on expressing her dedication as a wife while balancing her dedication as a righteous citizen, which works. But oddly enough, despite her successes, I don't think Alita is actually good? At donning disguises? Everyone I've seen discuss this case has been able to guess almost immediately that she's the culprit, and maybe we're just prepped by past characters like her that have appeared, but I don't think she's even that convincing in the game.

Both the identities she assumes are risky manoeuvres that happen to fall in her favour, and she's not particularly dedicated to maintaining the front. When she asks Apollo to be Wocky's defence, she admits that marrying him is largely a chance at a more exciting life than some great love story; Plum Kitaki straight up says that there's a darkness in Alita she doesn't like, despite how docile Alita behaves in front of her; and Wocky has moments where he slips up and calls her things like, "imposter" and "fallen angel", implying that at least subconsciously, he knows she's not what she makes herself out to be. Even her general mannerisms don't greatly differ between her actual self and the mask who's blunt her claws — nothing is ever overtly coy or cutesy — and when Apollo brings up the fact she was Wocky's nurse, she drops the facade almost immediately. There's no waffling, no, "Whatever do you mean?"s or, "You're scaring me"s, just the statement, "I don't know what you mean by 'meaning', Mr. Justice!" delivered in a sudden cool, frosted steeliness.

And I think that steel is what really makes her different.

See, the other women are all driven to crime by some defining trait in themselves caused by their circumstances. For Dahlia, it's her desperate need to be free of the Fey clan; for Mimi, it's grief over her sister's unjust death; and for April, it's her fear of Redd White. You don't really get that with Alita. Instead of there being something dark in her life that leads her down this path, she just seems... tired. Tired of being "pretty enough" but not "gorgeous", tired of being the obedient nurse to the corrupt doctor, tired of being ordinary. There's no predatory external force pushing her into a corner, there's no abusive family beliefs pinning her down. There's just an ordinary life, lived dull and ordinarily, and she had had enough. So what does this girl, who's tired and ordinary in every way except the steel that lines her spine, do to get out of this?

She gambles.

Marrying into the mafia was a gamble, seeking Apollo as council was a gamble, shooting Dr. Meraktis was a gamble. Every decision she's made since she met Wocky has been a series of high-stakes gambles that leave her life on the line all so she won't be second-best anymore. This time, she was going to be the one on top. No matter what.

... And I'm sorry for loving evil women, but girlboss?? Girlboss???

I've heard people say they're disappointed that her "breakdown" is just an extension of her usual damage sprite, but it's honestly one of my favourite "breakdowns" in the series ever? Just because it isn't really one? Everything Alita has done up till now has been reckless, calculated risk, of course being convicted for murder is no different than losing in any other aspect of her life. Of course you're not going to get more than her damaged sprite, because this doesn't warrant a more dramatic reaction. She's lived this whole time knowing it could all come crashing down around her, and it finally did.

She made a bad bet. You caught her. Oh well.

The frosted girl of steel, standing tall to the very end. It's kind of sad that, even after all that, she's still seen as only second-best, incomparable to mimi, dahlia or any of the other women who've stood in her place.

[inthedarkshadows000]

SneakPeak#107.......

From the story I might never write

[Iskaed au pt.1]

Those misogynistic pigs!!! They only wanted to meet today to try and intimidate me.

As if, I snorted and massaged the crown of my head with my pointers.

I did not work through blood and tears for half a decade so some self obsessed, greedy politicians could frame me for treason against my country.

To be an Indian foriegn secretary had taken a better portion of my life.

I had to completely flip my attitude to pursue the sudden passion I had acquired, no more parties, late night rendezvous, lack of routine and so on. Basically every rule that I had lived by for the 21 years, before I decided I wanted to be this.

I had the brains but not the discipline yet I did it, I got my shit together, proved everyone around me wrong, and cleared the exam with flying colours.

After that it wasn't still all fun as I thought, once in the system, I realised the reality of it all. The stinky politics, the I got dick so I gotta be a dick attitude, and so on.

I mean I wasn't expecting it to be rainbow farts and unicorn shit but you would think it'll atleast be a little subtle, being a bureaucratic job and all. Nope!! Not a chance.

It was so glaring obvious that currently one of my lovely ministers were on a tour to Japan, to, guess what?!!

Exactly!!! Intimidate lil ol'me into resigning, else, he would frame me for conspiring against india. Blah blah blah.

Not while I still breathe.

He thinks I don't know his simpleton idea. (it'll make him choke to death to realised a woman has more brains than him.)

Like hellloooo.... my job profile need me to be at my sharpest quite unlike their's. I rolled my eyes so hard at the thought, surprised they aren't stuck in my head.

Hence, why i was stressing and burning a path into my office carpets. That guy is a snake and if I don't play my cards right he might as well finish me right now.

Goooood!!!!!! Couldn't I have people like getou, gojo, Nanami or toji around me.

Like... yummmmm... I mean to obviously support and help me, no other reason *wink wink*, ofcourse.

Just imagine... daddy fushi. Drooooool !!!!

Alas not everyone can have hot men fighting for or protecting us. The injustice I tell you. I thought with a tiny pout.

I had only just finished my tiny prayer to manifest so when I heard a light buzz behind my back and whizzed around.

What. I stepped back to create space between the body wall that had suddenly appeared and hit something- one else.

The. I spun around again to keep the 2 intruders in my line of sight.

Actual. And hit the 3rd.

Fuck. And 4th.

Holy moly!!!! My eyes were probably the size of saucers as I tried to decide if I had seriously lost the last few screws that I guaranteed I had.

There were currently 3 angels- anime characters- right in front of me, and I really, really hope the one missing here is behind me.

I whipped around to check and yes, he is. In all of his 6 feet plus glory. Gulp.

I raised my hand to pull at the lock of hair on his forehead to make sure this wasn't a dream.

Hey!! I ain't hurting me. I might be crazy but got limits too, Babe.

"Owee!! What was-"

That's the last last thing I heard before a "fuck me" left my lips and I blacked out.

OK... so no I actually did not faint. I have a meeting with the devil, can't really let my defences down even if the sexiest of men namely... wait for it OK.... The greatest ever.... SATORU GOJO, KENTO NANAMI, TOJI FUSHIGURU and SUGURU GETOU had suddenly apparated infront of me from thin air.

However, I did get extremely light headed and tripped on my feet. Although a pair of hands were holding me up before I could embarrass myself.

"Thank you" I said straightening myself and moving out of suguru's grip. 

Really never thought I would do this, like move out of this beautiful specimen's arms. Kill me now. I hate being responsible.

"Any particular reason why 4 random men have just appeared out of thin air in my office at the most random and frankly inconvenient time" I continued with raised eyebrow and moved around.

Regain control!!! Regained control!!! Do not let yourself be seduced!!!

I walked out from the amongst them. The position making me feel extremely vulnerable due to sheer difference in height and stature between them and my 5'3", petite self.

Now I know.... I am not dumb but I can't just throw myself on the extremely trained, assassin level skilled people who literally have the worst trust issues ever. I'll probably be declared a crazy stalker bitch and dead meat even before I get a hand around them, especially with the stunt I just pulled.

"You pulled my hair. Why did you pull my hair?" Suguru asked with a little tilt to his head.

OH! MY!!! GOD!!!! AS ADORABLE AS A PUPPY!!! . I had stop my self from squishing his face, he looked so cute.

He followed my form as I sat behind my desk and motioned for them to take a seat on the 2 chairs in front as well as the couches placed on the right side area of the desk.

"She probably found it weird suguru" snickering the white haired baby, Satoru.

"I apologise, I wanted to make sure you were real. Now if you could all please answer my question" I said completely ignoring the menace.

I wasn't actually apologitic. Do you KNOW how soft it was.

"And you wouldn't pull your own? That's what people normally do, you know" satoru said.

"You really wanna talk about normal?" I questioned back, and motioned towards all of them and waving my hands around.

"Touché"

However my comment did make them glance at each other. There movements uncomfortable in there own way.

Toji was the first to release a long sigh, shrug and move towards the long couch. Sitting down with a manspread and head thrown back, like he really didn't care about the fact that he isn't a 2-D wetdream anymore but a real person. I knew from the show it wasn't so. He was as alert as a watch dog.

Suguru too gave a sigh of defeat, scanned the office like making sure nothing was about to pop up and attack or maybe just analysing. He seems like a person who would. Then his eyes met mine, gave that sweet smile which I had swooned over millions of times, and walked over to me with his hands in his pocket. He seemed awkward. No. Just unsure, I think. The smile was a facade to hide whatever he was feeling.

Satoru stood straighter, I thought he would fall back with how backward bent he was however he just walked towards me with a surprising grace for someone as tall as him. Swinging his arms around, his aura of confidence which had almost slipped at my comment, maintained. Seeing his body language I knew some weird comment was on its way. Probably to redunce anything I had noticed, if I had.

"You were about to faint because of how handsome I am, weren't you?" He came into my personal space and bent over me. His forefinger pulled his black glasses a little lower so he could hold me with his piercing eyes.

And held I was, no animation or device in the world could do his eyes justice. The blue in them was nothing an ordinary person could describe. It wasn't just a colour but a melange of different shades of blue that almost seemed...... alive.

The closeness, like i have never felt before made me panic and I blutered the first thing that came to my head "Are you an alien? You definitely seem like one."

"Huh-" there was a two second lag in Satoru as he tried to comprehend my question and suguru chuckled, hiding his face behind his hand to try and control it.

He had taken a seat on one of the chairs. Atleast someone was ready to have an adult conversation with me.

"An angel actually" satoru replied recovering but so had I and simply rolled my eyes at him.

I pushed his face away from mine and said "Sit the hell down. Just because I am not screaming and going crazy does not mean I am all normal here. I need answers, and want them as soon as possible."

"I am Nanami Kento, these are my colleagues gojo satoru and geto suguru. The one over there is Fushiguru Toji. I apologise for the sudden intrusion in your office....and your space" Nanami said the last part looking at satoru.

He had taken the other seat while satoru had been talking to me. Sitting with his arms crossed and back as straight as they come. His classic stoic expression was hawt.

Satoru rolled his eyes at Nanami like an insolent kid. I bit the inside of the cheek to control the smile that threatened to escape, seeing their antics in real life is definitely much more entertaining.

"Satoru sit. On the couch." Suguru rubbed his eyes when satoru moved to sit on the handle of my chair.

"We really don't have the energy right now." He was finally tired of his best friend's attitude.

Surprisingly toru actually listened and sat down on a single couch, beside the one which Toji had taken, his legs crossedamd head thrown back. He was a spliting image of one of the scenes from the show.

During this time, I noticed that they all seemed to belong to different eras of the anime. Not only that, there was a mix of all of there styles.

Toji looked like right before he died in season 2. With his compressed shirt and those lose pants. The creators really didn't do his boobies justice. The trust he had on that shirt is what I aspire to have in my relations.

Gojo when he was a teacher but with thise sexy rectangular shades. Kento, the sexy suit.

Suguru seemed like he was in jjk season 2, without his traditional monk clothes. His hair were shoulder length. Both him and satoru wore jjk uniforms for teachers, which were similar to the ones they had as students. The baggy pants and all.

Wanna guess what those hide ;"

"I am y/n. Officer in the Indian embassy here" I moved my hand towards kento first and then suguru. There hands were soft and warm, engulfing mine entirely. Of course they had to have the most beautifully crafted hands ever. I sent a silent prayer to thank for my skin tone which never reveals my blush.

I wasn't usually the one to be conscious about physical appearance but I gotta tell you my ego was taking continuous hits being in their presence.

"I don't know how to entirely explain what just happened. I think we aren't from here yet came here. Its all extremely absurb for us too.... obviously the transportation doesn't help either." began suguru. He kept pausing and looking at nanami and others as if answers would randomly appear.

Poor thing. I could probably solve half of his issues by telling him what I knew of them but looking at him so unsure was getting fun now.

"We Basically died and got reincarnated" Piped satoru, his hand over his eyes, glasses kept on the coffee table. Babe..what?!?!

"We need to know where we are and maybe then we will be in a better condition to link our circumstances." Nanami said trying to find a starting point of their story.

At this point I realised how truly stressed they all were. Even though they sat carelessly, a tightness in their body was visible. Their eyes shifting everywhere as if trying to find some clue to make sense of.

Nodding my head I switched on my laptop, which was kept in front of me on my desk and opened up chrome, typing up their anime I turned it towards them. I stood up a little to pass it.

"I think this will help you make a little more sense of the situation" I mumbled and pulled back my fingers, sitting back in my chair.

I forced myself to not bite my nails as I saw there face become more and more confused. The creases on there forehead increased. Suddenly a loud voice made me jump in my chair and I let out a squeak.

"What the actual fuck is this!?" That was nanami cursing. OH god! I can happily die now. Hearing this sophisticated creature curse in front me made all kinds of delirious before I shook it off.

Suguru turned towards me when he heard my voice and instantly asked nanami to control his temper. My sweet, sweet sugar.

I am going to assume he was talking to himself and avoid any communication till I absolutely had to.

The fact that Nanami cursed made toru and toji curious too, who quickly scrambled over.

The more they kept looking through the more I kept sinking into the chair, regretting this, I don't even know why though. I figured it was due to four steroid infused men who might be angry at me, in such close quaters.

Suguru had been continuously shifting his gazing between the screen, his mates and me. I really wonder what he was thinking.

Toji had been standing tall, next to nanami with his hands crossed and looking into the screen with a nonchalant attitude, we all know he was anything but. I was sure of it when I caught his side glance in my direction which almost felt like it was sizing me up.

Sir please.. my Size is fragile- handle-with-care.

Satoru was between nanami and suguru leaning all the way in, totally engrossed into the screen. He suddenly shouted pointing at the screen with one hand and shaking suguru like a toy with the other "Look suguru, they got the perfect click. oooh dayuumm babay.... I look so pretty."

Toji suddenly turned towards me fully and put his both hands down on the desk and leaned forward and in the the most intimidating tone said one word that had my blood freeze.

.

.

.

.

And rush into my nether regions.

Psycho woman.

"Explain"

The rest of them looked up me too. Toji continued to look at me like he couldn't decide if letting me answer was worth not killing me. I was after all their only hope, of sorts.

"I.. you.. I me.. ..an" I stammered. I knew they wouldn't actually kill me. I hope. Even then, with how rattled they seem I couldn't let my gaurd down. Toji was a wild card here. He did not have the same way of handling situations as the others did.

I knew that the other three wouldn't be able to stop him, if they wanted to, that is, and that 'if' was a huge one right now.

Suguru suddenly got up from his place and came towards me. I stood up and shifted to step away from the chair in a way that it created a shield between us, in case they all decided that they had no use for me anymore.

He put his hands up in a way of showing he meant no harm and walked closer in slow steps like approaching a scared animal.

I probably looked like one. I loved these fictional characters but exactly as that, I would be a fool to forget what they were trained as. killing machines. They had been so traumatised that distrust for a stranger was only natural.

Therefore, I wouldn't be off my gaurd either till I gained their trust. I made sure to keep an eye on all of them in which ever place I stood. Especially now that I could feel Toji's patience running thin.

"Guys relax. Y/n, could you please explain what's all this. It's been a rough couple of..... I don't even know how long. The fact that our entire lives are splayed across your screen Is really not looking very good. We just want to know why?" By the time suguru had finished, he was in my personal bubble. So close that I had to take a step back, and shift the chair again, to not break my neck looking up.

"Also if you got anymore of my perfect moments captured, I need them asap. The quality is like really good here." Of course the strongest sorcerer of all time had a different priority.

I took a deep breath and shifted I to my bureaucratic role. Fake it till you make it. Right? Squaring up my shoulders, I gave a tiny nod to suguru and turned towards the rest. Going with the easier question first.

"Yes. I got amazing pics of you, and the rest of you too. Not because I stalked you, well I do but not physically. You do realise that's impossible with the abilities you all possess, don't you?" My tone sassy with the last sentence.

Satoru actually hummed, with his face between his thumb and fore finger, in a thinking pose.

"In my world you all are actually characters of an anime called jujutsukaisen. Well, the charac- people in there have huge Fandoms because of your looks and strength and story. I just coincidentally happen to be one too." I finished and shrugged shoulders, absolutely covering my obsession with them like it was a teenage crush.

I raised my chin with an attitude of go fuck yourselves and took my place back on the chair. Suguru had moved to stand at the side of the desk. I was partially thankful because if anyone decide to jump me, I was running behind him like this chic on fire.

"If you wanna know all that I know, then I can just start the anime in here and open the link to Mangas." I said as an after thought.

"I want to apologise for my behavior earlier, it's not like me to curse. We would really appreciate it if you could show us whatever there is." Nanami said with a guilt and rubbed his tired face.

A genuine smiled spread on my face. "Don't worry, I know how you are and actually always wondered what you would seem like losing co- I mean angry." Quickly corecting myself I waved him off.

No need to sound perverted, because let's be honest I did mean it in a perverted way.

"Don't say it like that. You sound like you know everything about us when we don't know shit about you. It's weird" that was Toji with his impeccable manners.

I looked at him smiling and scratched the back of neck awkwardly, "Right.. My bad. I'll try and be mindful of it."

Suguru took his place back on the chair. "So we are .. like just characters here, Nothing else?" He seemed kinda disappointed.

"Sir please, dont insult yourselves like that." I said dramatically with a hand on my heart. "Wait till you see the obsession and love people have for you here. I am surprised there isn't a petition for  jjk to be a religion yet." I giggling because like seriously!! Wait till they see the extend of it.

I prayed my theatrics would bring a smile to his face, it wasn't made to be disappointed and like hell would I ever let him or any of these people be any less than happy. Thankfully it worked and he gave a tiny smile.

"Anyway here is my phone with everything open and if you really wanna see the reality of your Fandom, I am sure you know how to use net." Passing the phone to them.

I suddenly realised it was about to be time for my personal favourite person to enter, Mr. Shah. Note the sarcasm.

Which meant I had to hide them before he saw all of this and added 'slut' to his list of adjectives for me.

"We need a bigger screen, can't expect us to see everything on this. Are you poor?" Satoru seemed genuinely aghast at the idea.

OK. Judgemental much, pretty boy.

"No i am not but that is the only device I can spare for public use right now." I said sharply and continued. "Actually its perfect, you cannot watch it here, right away in any case. Remember how I said this is a very inconvenient time, although my literal fantasy was coming true." I motioned towards them and satoru smirked.

"I have a meeting with a snake, and I can't have you lot loitering around." I continued before he could make a remark.

"Snake like a literal or figuratively?" Now you would think that this was something Satoru would ask but it wasn't. Personally, I never thought I would have to clarify something like that.

"I mean it figuratively but once you see him you'll be amazed how much closer he is to the literal sense. So as I was saying, I'll have to lock you guys in the washroom" I answered after waiting a beat to see if Toji was serious or just pulling my leg. He Stood straight, with his hands crossed and those buldging biceps. Squish my head and call me orange juice.

Wait....My god he was serious about the question. What kind of deals HAS he gone through.

Add to the THINGS TO ASK.

"With these idiots- You cannot hide my pretty face like that!" Nanami and suguru didn't really say anything. They sat on the chairs mostly observing and listening. I looked at them and gave a helpless smile with I-seriously-got-no-other-option shrug. They glanced at the other and then relaxed a little. I was gonna assume they said-

"very well."

OH they actually did. Thank god atleast half the population had some brains.

Ring.ring.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!!!

Next

[samcarpentersgirlfriend]

hii, can you please do a liv mckenzie x fem!reader headcanon? like, an enemies to lovers where liv doesn’t like reader at first, then slowly falls for her. thank you sm <33

thank you for the request, writing for liv is so fun <3 hopefully this is what you wanted!!

ENEMIES TO LOVERS HCS || LIV MCKENZIE X READER 𖤐₊˚.

warnings: swearing, fem!reader, mentions of reader wearing makeup, a little bit of chad bashing but it’s just for story purposes… I love him i promise <3 I’ve never done enemies to lovers before so sorry if anything feels off or rushed

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

- the funny thing is, nobody even really remembers why you and liv are seemingly incapable of getting along together.

- all anybody knows is that innocent conversations within the group slowly divulge into petty arguments between you and liv, snarky comments exchanged constantly.

- for example, one time, a conversation about where everybody wanted to eat quickly turned into a utterly unrelated spat.

- “liv, did you even listen to a fucking word I said just then?”

- “no, because every word you say is stupid!”

- “wow, harsh. how long did it take you to come up with that one, hannah montana?”

- “you know, I’m not stupid. maybe if you got off of your high horse and stopped judging me for once-

- “why should I, when you make it so easy! besides, if you want to talk about judgemental…”

- chad and wes think the two of you’ll work it out eventually, tara doesn’t understand why you can’t just be real friends, amber thinks the bickering is completely entertaining (and instigates most of the time) and mindy thinks you both just need to make up (and make out).

- from why you can tell, liv thinks you’re a prissy, pretentious know-it-all.

- and from what liv can tell, you take her for a shallow party girl with more mini-skirts than brain cells.

- you both try your hardest to avoid each other, but seeing as she was dating chad and tara had been your best friend since you’d moved to woodsboro, so were forced to run in the same circle - because why should one of you have to make new friends just to avoid her?

- but it seems the universe just seems to hate the two of you - because you were forced together constantly.

- you have to sit next to eachother in chemistry and art, and you both live practically right next next door to each other- meaning you walked the same route and, when wes would offer to give you all a ride home, you’d be huddled in the back seat with liv whilst everybody else got dropped off first.

- and you mean huddled; you’d be so close that your legs were touching and you could smell her perfume (it was infuriatingly perfect and reminded you of strawberries and summer and warmth - not that you’d ever tell liv that, though).

- when she’s feeling particularly annoying, liv has a habit of flashing you her most shit eating grin - mostly because she knows it irritates the living hell out of you.

- seriously, most of the time, you want nothing more than to wipe it straight off of her face.

- “liv, I swear, if you don’t stop that right now…”

- “what are you gonna do about it, huh? we both know you’re not gonna stop me- that would require little miss princess to lift a perfect finger!”

- but fine, whatever. she could be as immature as she wanted - you weren’t going to rise to her bait - except from all the times you did, obviously. you regarded yourself as being better than that.

- arguing over partner work in class, and making sure liv knew when you’d scored higher than her in a test.

- really, it was just all pettinesses - but in your defence, it was always liv that started it (at least, you think it is - nowadays, it’s rather difficult to keep track).

- one friday night, when the rest of your family was out of town, you’d thought you’d invite a few people over.

- though, of course, when chad and mindy were involved, a few people turned into practically half of the school.

- seriously, your house was filled to the brim with people you didn’t even recognise - which meant you inevitably bumped into someone and, just your luck, spilt the entire contents of your drinks down the front of your shirt.

- and aw, damn it, you’d liked that shirt. so you were forced to go upstairs in an attempt to find something else to put on - except, when you open your bedroom door, the last person you expect to see is liv mckenzie.

- a crying liv mckenzie, nonetheless, sitting on your bed as mascara runs down her pretty face. and as bad as it sounds, a part of you is tempted to pretend you saw nothing and creep back down to the party, stained shirt and all.

- the thing is though, deep down, you know that it wouldn’t be right - no matter how much you and liv tended to disagree.

- you uncomfortably shuffle beside her as she looks up from her spot on your floor, all teary eyed.

- “shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude in your room. I can go-“

- liv apologising to you is never a good sign, so you catch her arm and slowly urge her to sit back down, imploring what’s wrong.

- “it’s chad! he fucking dumped me- he says there’s somebody else! you know what, I bet it’s tara- I’ve seen the way the look at each other! god, how could I be so stupid?”

- and, oh. you though chad and tara were a little touchy-feely, but you’d never suspected it was like that. and you’d definitely thought chad had more decorum that to dump liv at a party for one of her best friends. god, what a moron.

- you tell liv exactly that - albeit a little awkwardly - and she gives you a smile at that. a real smile.

- “you really think he’s a moron?”

- “yeah. moron, asshole, whatever you want to call him- that was totally shitty of him! and you deserve better than that - better than him.”

- so you change your shirt and sheepishly, you offer to help liv fix hey ruined makeup. and when your fingers brush against her skin as you apply a fresh layer of concealer to her face, you definitely don’t feel jolts of electricity run down your spine. you don’t.

- but you do go to bed that night, after everybody else has finally left, replaying that rare, real smile on a loop in your mind. and you try not to think about what that means.

- and after that night, you make more of an effort. you really, honestly do.

- because when you aren’t too wrapped up in yourself to notice, you realise that liv doesn’t exactly have it easy within the group, what with mindy and amber’s apparent dislike for her as well as your own.

- and sure, she was irritating at times, but that didn’t mean everybody had to call her out on it, right?

- you don’t magically get along immediately - how could you, after months of pointless arguments? - but you seemed to have forged a civil, unspoken agreement; you were the only ones who could insult each other now.

- and even then, insult was too harsh of a word - the jabs became more light hearted, and you slowly found yourself often laughing in retort instead of being on the immediate defensive.

- as much as it pained you to admit it, you start to find yourself often having actual, genuine fun with liv.

- which somehow, happens to lead to the pair of you spending more one-on-one time.

- and before you know it, you’re suddenly going to the mall together, picking out clothes for yourself and each other.

- you find yourself visiting to a lot of museums too, because as it turns out, liv has a total interest in all types of art - and god, who would’ve expected that? maybe you, if you’d actually taken a chance to get to know her when you first met her.

- you start to notice a lot of things about her that you never had in the past: the way she pouted when she was confused, the way she fiddled with her jewellery when she was nervous, and the way most of her necklaces were completely handmade.

- the more you found out about her, the more you wanted to know.

- the first confession between the two of you comes when you were hanging out in a cafe near your houses.

- “you know, I never really hated you,” liv randomly says into the quiet as you take a long sip of your milkshake. “I thought you were annoying as hell, but I never hated you. we just irritated each other- that’s the way it always was with us.”

- you take a second before you speak yourself. “you know, I don’t think I ever really hated you either. hell, I can’t even remember why I was supposed to dislike you in the first place.”

- the realisation is so stupid that you can’t help but laugh, and suddenly, everybody else in the place is staring at the two of you as you giggle over the ridiculous nature of it all.

- by then, the two of you are inseparable. liv even seems to be getting over chad, and she doesn’t even flinch when she sees him and tara holding hands.

- you know the two of you have really bonded when amber comments on your newly discovered friendship, saying how weirdly quiet it is without the bickering and that she wishes you’d hate each other again.

- you both pointedly ignore that comment - well, liv does give her the finger, but that’s neither here nor there :)

- the real confession - rather ironically - comes in the place where you realised that liv mckenzie wasn’t as bad as you’d thought she was; your bedroom. you’re both sprawled out on the bed, legs messily intertwined, as liv flicks through some shitty magazine and declares that she’s found a makeup look that she wants to try out on you.

- “come on, it’ll be funnn!” she promises, and she looks so adorably desperate that you can’t help but give in to her.

- and before long, you find yourself fully vertical on the bed, with liv somehow ending up practically straddling you as she paints your eyes and lips a bright pink .

- “stop moving,” - she warns, so close that you’re breathing in that perfume or hers again. you take a breath, and if fills your lungs once more. “seriously!” she says as you stir, dragging a thumb slowly across the bottom of your lip. “see, you’re smudging it!”

- you don’t care about that, though. it doesn’t even cross your mind. no, instead you’re too focused on how you can see the brilliant blue of liv’s eyes perfectly from this angle, how her pretty pink hair tickles your throat as it spills over her shoulders. how soft her lips look from down here.

- you’ve barely even registered what you’re doing before you’re suddenly leaning up, your lips pressed against hers in an instant. you know she’s not expecting it, what with the way her body tenses up and she all but drops the brush in her hand.

- and no. you’ve gone and ruined it all, you’ve kissed liv and why would you do that because she’s never going to talk to you again and you didn’t even know you liked her like that and-

- and she’s kissing you back, and it’s absolutely perfect. it’s everything you’d never known you were missing in life, and you can’t help but wonder that if you hadn’t wasted all that time arguing, you could e been doing a hell of a lot more of this a damn lot sooner.

- but you just promise yourself you’ll have to make up for all of that wasted time <3

- when you walk into school the next day, hands interlocked, amber nearly throws up, tara gives you a cautious thumbs up, and mindy - well, mindy said it was just a matter of time, and declared that wes owes her 15 bucks.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

(had to insert THE iconic wlw reference pic I was thinking of when I wrote this)

[scotianostra]

On September 12th 1315 Thomas Dun, a privateer from Scotland, sailed into Holyhead, captured an English ship and over-ran Anglesey.

Be thankful for this cracking tale, on what looks like being another quiet day on my history posts, luckily I have loads of pics from yesterday to post!

There isn't a lot known about Thomas Dun before all this, he crops up in the occasional chronicle of the time, several spellings of his name occur, my favourite is Dubh, a privateer is another name for legalised piracy, sponsored by a state, in this case Scotland, specifically, if you look at the date, The Bruces.

To get back to the name, over the few mentions I found about him is one story uses the name Tavish, a Scottish name for Thomas, what a name for a pirate eh" Dubh Tavish, or Black Thomas, just as good a name as another famous pirate Blackbeard!

So why would Robert the Bruce want with a privateer, well after Bannockburn there was no point in just sitting waiting for the English making another attack, so the King sent an army commanded by his wee brother Edward to fight the English in Ireland, which he did with success at first, being crowned King of the Island in 1316.

Black Tavish's main activity was piracy in the Irish sea, directed at English ships. His fleet also acted as a a de-facto navy for the Scots, he is said to have ferried the army over the Irish sea and ran a blockade, starving the English of support.

Dun enters the Irish annals when he is mentioned as taking four ships of the Earl of Ulster just off Portrush in County. The ships were were laden with supplies to help the English war effort including food which was a precious commodity in what was a time of not just war but also famine. Portrush now claims Tavish as their own, running annual pirate festival in his honour.

The Bruce's biographer, John Barbour wrote an account of Edward Bruce’s Irish invasion within living memory of it happening. Edward’s army got into difficulty at Coleraine and Tavish sailed up the mouth of the Bann river to rescue him, ferrying Edward’s soldiers across the river and out of the clutches of the army of the Earl of Ulster.

English chroniclers describe Tavish as "a perpetrator of depredations on the sea" and "a cruel pirate", which is understandable as they were on the wrong end of his activities, however he must not have been a very nice person as John Barbour, writing from the Scottish point of view also calls Tavish a “Scumer of the Se” - scum of the sea.

Tavish raided Holyhead in Anglesey with four galleys and captured a laden cargo ship, the "James" of Caernarvon, it is said after receiving intelligence from a local "rhingyl" (official) who may have sent out a boat to advise him of the opportunity. The Welsh then rose in revolt and Edward II was forced to return to Wales the troops he had recruited to send against Scotland. Now taking the threat of Tavish and the Scots in Ireland seriously, Edward recalled the Cinque Ports fleet as well. When the King of France protested this withdrawal of support against the Flemings, Edward II claimed all his ships were needed for the defence of Ireland.

Edward II had had enough. He ordered a Geoffrey de Modiworthe to construct a special ship and go after Tavish. This was a 140 man galley, very large for those days and probably the fastest vessel in those waters. Even with that, though, they could not catch the pirate and it took an Irish noblemen, John D’Athy, to take to the seas and finally end Tavish’s reign of terror.

In July of 1317, John and his ships intercepted Tavish and his fleet at sea. A sea battle ensued in which 40 of the privateers are said to have been killed and Tavish captured.

Sketches of County Antrim says about the Skerries at Portrush that Tavish “died in his ship there, and was buried on the island, the place of his grave is unknown” but D'Athy is said to have cut off his head and sent it to Dublin.

For King Robert the use of the privateer was only a stop gap, by that time Tavish was done for he was already building his own navy, having instigated a ship building program on the Clyde, a tradition that would continue for most of the next 700 years.

[lysblack]

Gortash's Coronation Ball

Alright, I'm getting close to reaching Baldur's Gate and Gortash's Coronation in the fanfic I'm writing.

So, following up on THIS post... We're attending the Ball, folks!

Brainstorming ideas right now, but since I plan on temporarily allying Tav with Gortash (him being Lawful Evil as Bane commands and actually seeing Tav as an equal in his plans to dominate everything is really too nice not to be played with), at least some of the party is attending the Ball we were robbed of.

Obviously Tav's gonna be there, Astarion couldn't be kept away from such a fancy event even if Tav wanted to and Nere's coming along because he'd see that as the most terrible scorn to bring the vampire spawn and not him at this point in their relationship.

Everybody looking sideways on Drow Tav and Nere, voices of this weird group of people being heroes or threats to Baldur's Gate, they're obviously suspicious but strangely charming and by the end of the night they end up getting hit on multiple times (I'm considering an intercourse with Tav and Gortash just for funsies and to really test their collaboration but who knows, we'll see).

BUT: what about Wyll? Him being extremely uncomfortable with his new appearance, having to mingle with the nobility who's known him for ages but now eyes him with suspicion, distrust and even disgust.

Karlach? Her trying her best not to fall for Gortash's previous teasing and insults. Feeling really out of her element, painfully aware of her own big size and inability to properly dance even if she'd really like to enjoy the music and her new fancy attire that she's equally embarassed wearing but also secretly really likes. Dresses and fancy parties aren't her thing so why is she caring so much- and suddenly she sees Wyll's uneasiness and I don't know who asks first but now they're dancing together having fun and nobody else exists in the room anymore.

Gale panicking after a while and sending his magic copy to talk to people in his place. Every guest finds it funny and exotic, but Astarion knows it's a defence mechanism and goes to check on their Waterdeep wizard, finding him hiding on a secluded balcony talking to Tara the Tressym. Astarion suggesting he should take Tara inside, everybody loves cats and she'll give him even more points with the crowd while being his emotional support.

Shadowheart, still in her faith crysis, hair freshly dyed white, wearing the most beautiful dress that shines like a starred night. Did she ever go to a party? She doesn't remember, but probably not. She does not know the steps, doesn't know how to smalltalk. Tav notice and he twirls her around the ballroom until she laughs - is it the first time Tav has heard her laughter?

Honestly for the others I can't really see Lae'zel being interested in going to such a waste-of-time thing, Halsin being comfortable in dressing up and mingling with fake/posh people and Jaheira suffering through an entire night of being cornered into smalltalking with admirers of her past adventures.

The whole feeling will be a lot like the "Wicked eyes and wicked hearts" quest in DA:Inquisition.

There'll be romance, intrigue and probably an attempted murder or so, because what fun is a party without at least a couple deaths?

I'm also seriously thinking of adding Cazador to the guest list. Him seeing Astarion surrounded by people and still not understanding shit about them being friends and not pawns/accessories, underestimating the threat that such a close group (almost family now) actually poses to his Ascension plan.

Also thinking about everybody's fancy attires, pinterest is my salvation and curse.

[counsellorerestor]

For the headcanon meme: 📖 👻 🥀 🏭 🏛️

[ 📖 ] does your muse keep a diary or journal? what do they, or would they, write in a journal?

Yes and no. Erestor keeps a leatherbound journal on the desk in his office. It is, essentially, the equivalent of a modern bullet-journal; it is a planner with his tasks and appointments for each week and day, and sometimes he makes notes on how something went.

The only thing it would tell you about him is what he is doing and whether it went well.

Erestor is not someone to write his personal thoughts and feelings down. He is often introspective, and will take some time to sit and mentally work through things and process what he's thinking and feeling. But he keeps that to himself and, to some extent, his inner circle of friends.

[ 👻 ] what decisions have your muse made that they regret?

If asked today, Erestor would shrug and say he cannot regret the paths he took because they led him here, to a place where he is happy and content.

If probed deeper, Erestor would say he deeply regrets the Second Kinslaying most of all. The First Kinslaying was a horrific, tragic incident, but he was young and swept along and he believed, at the time, that he was doing the right thing. He regrets it, of course; what Noldo does not? He also regrets leaving his family behind.

At Doriath, however, he ought to have known better. He thinks they all ought to have known better.

He did argue against it, but it was hard to sway the sons of Fëanor when the Silmarils were involved. Ultimately, despite his misgivings, Erestor accompanied his lords out of loyalty. He fought in self-defence, but people still died.

He regrets not being able to sway them, and he regrets going.

[ 🥀 ] what are your muse’s standards for a romantic partner? are they realistic? why do they have these standards?

I knew you would ask this. :P

Erestor says he has high standards, but really it's no different from most other people; he just rarely gets quite that close to people. He must find them attractive, of course, but that does not necessarily mean conventionally attractive; if he likes you, your face is dear to him. He had a lover in Himring who was scarred, but Erestor liked him and found him attractive. (That Elf died in the Nirnaeth.)

He does like sex, so they must be compatible in bed.

The good values and principles likely go without saying.

He likes a good sense of humour; he himself is a fairly serious person by nature, but he values someone who can make him laugh.

Having some interests and inclinations in common would be important, although perhaps with just enough difference to keep things interesting. Erestor and his friend Iorissel once tried romance for a while, but frankly they were far too similar and it did not work.

On that note, his partner must have a strong sense of duty and understand the importance of his responsibilities, and take their own duties seriously; they would need to understand that sometimes his work comes first. At the same time, Erestor would not want to always put his work first; if he loves you he should prioritise you, and similarly he would want to be prioritised. This is a hard balance to strike, and he wonders if it is realistic.

Erestor's mind is always whirring, always thinking of what to do next and what might come and how to prepare, even when relaxing. He wants someone who is easy to be with, who can make him relax so much that his mind quietens. If he has already found this quality in his friendship with a certain Captain, he does not say.

[ 🏭 ] is your muse happy with their job or career path? why or why not?

Of course!

Erestor may sometimes act a little put-upon, and he takes so much work upon himself that sometimes he can be a little harried. But he would not do that if he did not want to; if he did not, ultimately, derive satisfaction from it.

Erestor was a hard worker in Lindon, and he respected Gil-galad. But he truly loves Imladris. He helped Elrond build it. He feels a certain sense of stewardship and responsibility towards it. It is his home, and he does what he does to keep it running as smoothly as possible so that all its denizens can be happy and peaceful, sheltered and well-fed.

He helped build Himring too, but those were different, stressful times, and he did not truly enjoy the work he did then. (Additionally, despite being Seneschal of Himring, he still had to do what amounted to military service. He was good at it, but it is not his chosen profession.)

In between being an administrator and counsellor, Erestor is a scholar of lore. He occasionally teaches some of the students (as somewhat of a guest lecturer), and he has contributed to the library. This straddles the line between hobby and career path, admittedly.

[ 🏛 ] does your muse have any strange interests? do they keep these interests to themselves, or are they comfortable sharing them with others?

Not particularly strange. Erestor is a curious person and enjoys learning about the world. He likes learning about other peoples and cultures. He has a passing interest in natural history, or the study of the world around them, though his true passions are history and literature. He has written a few historical analyses and treatises, and sometimes teaches. He is happy to share all these interests.

He does take a special interest in Númenor, because of Elros. Most people assume he is just doing his job, but it is very personal.

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

Must know your Furina thoughts cause I’m forever a Furina defender. I see her as different from Focalor and like… I get why Focalor did what she did but god I’m so… I don’t like her

I have more thoughts but I’d like to know yours and then I’ll explode

Heyy hiya hi hey! Sorry for getting back to this a bit late, I have been in a hole. You know how shrimps are

But the short answer is, regretfully, MHY's writing made me really viscerally dislike her, at first. There was definitely resistance in my heart and that was frustrating in itself, because I do not hate Her exactly and I see why a lot of people liked her a lot (my friends liked her too. I was pretty solitary in my extreme disdain of her). I just hated the story that MHY is trying to tell with her, I hated what she represents (to me, at least), and I hate that I'm seeing people being a lot more forgiving with her (compared to Ei) because she's shown to be more emotionally vulnerable, which makes her more relatable (this isn't so much as like, a 'her fans are bad!' take from me, just to clarify. More so, it is an observation about how MHY is able to very easily use their storytelling to sway the audience and keep their attention on certain narratives, and I don't like the effect of their writing decisions).

Disclaimer, though, I hate, hate Marie Antoinette and that "sad, helpless, rich (white) woman" archetype, so when Furina/Focalors clearly has some inspiration (and when I see the audience immediately make some of that connection), it was immediately rigged against her in my head, lol. She had no chance.

In retrospect, though, the Marie Antoinette reference isn't that strong, but I don't know if that's because MHY really chickened out of the French Revolution inspiration, or because they just vaguely wanted the vibes of it without ever intending on committing to it, and I end up looking silly because I'm making connections where there are none. MHY writing is notorious for making people do that because it expects you to extrapolate from minimal and vague writing at times.

Anyway, then I started writing her. I wrote her into the family dynamic of the WRLT family, streamer modern/future AU thing I've got going on, and even for my canon rewrite/reinterpretation/filled-in-the-shit-I-didn't-like-and-made-it-work-for-me fic where she shows up very briefly at times, I couldn't exactly make her completely villainous either. That role I reserve solely for Focalors (who, arguably, isn't portrayed as a villain in canon, either. I just hated her more, and she's specifically written as a scapegoat for Furina Criticisms by MHY, anyway, so she's literally used, narratively, as an excuse for Furina's action as the ruler of Fontaine, so. It's functionally the same shit as Ei being like "erm that was the robot, not me..." just much, much better executed).

And she's really grown on me! Like, if I'm not so hung up on her whole "I may be the ruler of a police state, but I have feelings, too" thing, I think her personal story of having to perform a role, and having to meet an expectation that just gets further and further out of reach, and how she was shown to quite literally fall apart under that pressure was (through gritted teeth) well done. I Guess. I liked the way they unravelled her on a literal stage at the end of the MSQ. If anything, I will give it to MHY for their understanding of effective visual storytelling.

In her defence, Neuvillette also had the whole "I may be the ruler of a police state, but I have feelings, too" thing going for him. In many ways, you can argue that he's Worse because he's the actual, functional facet of Fontaine's Justice System, while she was treated more as the theatrical side. But, I will Say, MHY tried to sneak it in there that she also does work behind the scenes to help vulnerable people, and they also tried to say that she takes her job very seriously behind the scenes as well. She just acts like she's all fun. But, once again, because of their writing, I think it's horribly executed. Because aside from those Few Specific Moments where they showed her doing these things, no actual impact of her leadership was ever shown within Fontaine aside from the way she represents the Theatre-Court thing, BUT EVEN THAT MEANS NOTHING ANYWAY.

(So once again, in the same way as my Neuvillette ramble, you have MHY being like "is she actually helpless? Is she not? Can she actually make changes, can she not???" and they end up playing Accountability Hot Potato between her and Neuvillette where they're like, No, Actually. You're the one In Power! No You! No You! I'm a clueless Sovereign, I don't know humans, you're the Archon! But you are the one people actually take seriously as the Iudex, you're the one with actual political influence, and I'm not the real Archon anyway! Then Focalors is like, Wah, Celestia! That's the actual party you should blame! I'm actually the martyr here! Feel bad for me! And if Celestia pops up with playable characters you know they're gonna be like erm, actually, we also have clones who's been acting as us who's the actual evil ones, but it's not us I prommie.)

Like how the fuck have they not figured out about the Primordial Waters shit, like, a hundred years ago. You're telling me they are so damn good at their jobs, but it took them this long? To realise??? The Primordial Waters can be a big ass problem in the future that they should have prepared for in the past? It's almost like a nod to how IRL governments will ignore global warming and line their pockets allowing big corpo to continue wrecking the environment at the cost of the common people— oh wait, MHY vaguely suggested that too in the world lore about pollution caused by Fontaine's rapidly growing technological landscape, but they didn't do anything with it, because the Government that would get narratively criticised in Fontaine is Entirely Made Up of the Two Characters Products they're trying to Sell?

Oh, you're telling me the way Oratrice Mechanique D'Analyse is feeding off the people's belief in Justice while it literally hoards all the energy of the nation in order to fulfil Focalor's plan can almost be seen as commentary on how Media like True Crime commodifies Justice while platforms like TikTok literally profit off your engagement— oh wait it falls apart the moment you try to say that Focalors did this out of necessity in order to give Neuvillette back his sovereignty because those vaguely evil, undefined Ceslestia people?

And I'm sure someone could pop up and say like That's The Point! They're trying to show that someone is always above someone else, pulling the strings, and that Everyone has to do a little evil sometimes! As if that's not the easiest excuse for MHY to wave off writing accountability into their character stories.

But you know what poisons all of their writing to me? Knowing that they make products first, stories after. Every writing decisions they make, I am sitting there like, "This is designed for an audience, this is specifically made this way to sell to the most people possible." I can't look at Furina and think "they're trying to make a sympathetic and relatable character" because I Know there is a board of Rich Guys somewhere who sits there and say "but she has to be redeemable, she has to be relatable, and she has to be just a little bit of everything to be palatable to the widest swath of people."

Like, all the "flaws" of Genshin's writing are barely "flaws" at this point, in terms of intention. There's no one sitting there being like "this is what we wanted to achieve, but we went about it wrong", it's more like "this is good enough to make us money. Some people might complain or look into it deeper, but most are still gonna buy and keep using our product." And they're right. Fuck, I might come back for Natlan just to see what the fuck they'd do. And I hate it lol

[bluiex]

i put it in google docs to check the word count it’s a bit over 1000 words so that’s fun, but without further ado, i present:

funny things i have read in smut:

“Then he hit the bundle of nerves that fanfic readers are all too familiar with.”

“Luckily he is also a slippery motherfucker.”

“inexperienced in the art of giving giant people hand jobs.”

“Getting cock blocked my a church!”

“I’m not a food (name)”

“unsure why (name) was treating him like he was at the dentist”

“Also when they arrived (name) threw a plushie at them, hitting (name) square in the face.”

“I-uh I wh-uhm I”

“Breed! Breed! Breed! Mate! Mate! Mate!”

“(name) smiled “sure just don’t kill me””

“(name) would probably just scold them and then offer some advice and (name) would probably just laugh and offer to punch (name)’s stomach or some bullshit. “

“She then sauntered her way back to the over-eager man laying in an idiotic position on the bed, probably trying to be mock-seductive.”

“"What? Don't you like what you see?"”

“he let out a shaky breath and stood up straight(gay)”

“(name) finds out where all the missing orphans went, and no, it’s not Technoblade.”

“(very unimaginative for a nonhuman, what were his parents thinking?)”

“it was at that moment that (name) had internally asked himself three questions: am I really considering sex with a dragon? Is this really what my life has come to? Dragon fucking?”

“" Sorry gang I have to take the fattest piss in the whole year."”

“"I just don't think you are gonna be screaming pickles in the middle of fucking-"”

“Angry at (name) for even having the audacity to be alive and breathing.”

““Look, I’m your chambermaid not your chambertherapist,””

““I saw a man purchasing cocaine from another man.” He mentioned offhandedly.”

“"Fuck you" he responded, lowering himself to lay on the monsters chest and stomach.

'That's what your doing'”

“Author: Am eating cucumber”

“(name” smirked with delight, reaching down to poke at his cloaca”

“he got so many new experiences (yes, even beans on toast)”

“”did you just.. call me dude in a romantic way?”

““Were you expecting me to say ‘it’s dishonourable to attack when not ready!’?””

“(names) hands are shaking so much that he might actually shoot one of them in the foot. Which would seriously kill the mood.”

“Is he not also deserving of being a sexy pirate with huge tits?”

“He doesn’t know what he’ll do if (name) pulls away and starts talking again. Cry, probably.”

“sorry i was possessed by an evil spirit called homosexuality writing this”

“im normal *paces around my cage*”

“i need to fuck this himbo.”

“am I saying that gay sex is the solution to relationship problems? Absolutel- *dies*”

“and precisely nothing changes between Pearl and Scott.”

“the real fantasy here is having a shower that's big enough for more than one person lmao”

“not like he was thinking of boneing (name) or (name) anytime soon.”

“(name) has eaten (name) out (wow that's really a sentence I just typed)”

“Tea anon *shakes you like a maraca*”

“because holy hell (name) has got to have some absolutely incredible thighs”

“I know that we all universally agree that (name) has the biggest dick on the server”

“I just think they should fuck and it would solve all their problems. Or make them worse, but at least they’d have fucked <3”

““tiddies plz? May I have a face full of them?””

“(especially after he's been fucked into the next century by her-)”

“When he is satisfyied and (name) is a right mess and a little hard- (name) just leaves lmao”

“You have my utmost respect and love person who suggested it I will give you a handshake”

“Hi I have a headache the size of Texas but that doesn’t stop the Headcanons from plaguing me like visions.”

“(name) just walkin around butt ass naked, dick out :sobs: /pos”

“getting the fucked and bred into the next century-“

“"he's a fucking dumbass jesus christ i want to bear his children"”

“(name) lingered, because he was a simple man, and couldn’t turn down a chance to look at (name)’s ass. In his defence, it was not a bad choice. Man.”

“Not that burying his face in (name)’s tits was a bad time,”

“(name) slurred out a grumbling complaint, so far from any word that (name) was almost impressed.”

“(name), I am going to set you on fire, please.”

“(name) raised his eyebrows at (name)’ choice to not wear underwear. The man was truly feral sometimes.”

“This goes even harder (hehe)”

“Why do school work when imaginary men can fuck in our heads *gets run over*”

“Unfortunately, it covered all of (name)’s actual ass,”

“his eyes relaxing and focusing in on the much nicer view of (name)’s chest.”

““Are you saying that to me, or my boobs?””

“little panting sounds as he tried to remember how to breathe.”

“He needed to scream into a pillow, like, now. And then do other things with that pillow”

“She could talk to him however the fuck she wanted after riding him like that.”

“And my god if anyone saw his back they'd think he got attacked by a bear or something “

“(name)’s sense of time is a little – hah! – fucked right now.”

“resisted that dang mouth”

“(name) has two tits!”

“a worker is giving him a weird look for clearly having boner while staring at some bell peppers.”

“He really was a friend shaped nugget”

““If it's not a booty call I'm not interested,” “

“(name) bussy canonically has the power to unlock peoples closeted inner fruit”

“the glass was so fragile that gay sex was enough to shatter it”

“just waiting for (name) to calm down. (name) also waits for (name) to calm down.”

“and enjoy the ride””

“nor does (name) actually get off on being commanded to fuck. (well, he might. i've never asked.)”

““I’m at a vulnerable time in my species transition and you’re making sex slave jokes?””

““Well, stop being horny for five seconds and let me finish explaining.””

“Gotta have a weird gay thing going with at least one of your friends at all times.””

““Oh no, your dick is broken! I’m prescribing you blow jobs~””

“trying to look calm and collected. like a cucumber.”

“giving it the sloppiest toppy he could in his state.”

-🍞

“Breed! Breed! Breed! Mate! Mate! Mate!” I felt that. LOL

““Are you saying that to me, or my boobs?”” FAVE FAVE FAVE

[rileyslibrary]

I got you, don’t worry. I cropped everything out and covered the character’s name and other details in case anyone pins it back to you. I wanted to reply publicly since this might help someone in the same position as you. Also, please know that I deleted the ask so there’s no trace of you in my ask box, in case you feel uncomfortable. I hope you see this.

FYI, I’m returning after I wrote this just to let you know that this is probably one of the longest replies I’ve given. I think refraining from writing is making me compose chapter-length responses. Also, I had a beer while writing this, so please accept my sincere apologies if it’s too “chattery.”

You’re not asking for my assistance, although your message feels like a desperate plea for help. I think I can do that for you. You don’t want to? Too bad.

So, let's start with the writing part and then move on to the hate (eek!)

If you read/watched/studied the material and generally did your homework, as you say, then maybe you can go back to studying and see if you missed something. I, personally, won’t critique your work since I’m nothing but an apprentice myself. I won’t act as a know-it-all.

Something I personally like to do as I write, though, is to keep the campaign or cutscenes from Ghost playing in the background. Or, I try to be conscious, and ask myself questions like “Why am I making him do that thing? Is it something he would naturally do, based on what I studied? Or is it something I would do, and I’m projecting it on him instead? Am I making him do/say that just to progress the story, and I’m not thinking clearly?”

Also, don’t study only what the characters say. Observe their facial expressions. Their posture. Even if they are somewhere in the background, just standing. And, he doesn’t have to be perfect, mind you. I mean, what are you gonna do? Plagiarise the freaking canon?! No; Close enough is good enough.

I already replied to a request regarding writing, by the way. You can find it under the writing tag in this blog.

Now, if we’re talking about anons/readers who act as self-proclaimed undisputed authorities with biases and strong opinions, I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do here. I mean it’s not the game developers who creep into your inbox/comments. Or the character himself.

It’s just… a hater. *dun, dun, duuuuun*

Like, it’s one thing not to like a person’s writing/story/content and another to criticise and spew hate while forcing your own personal opinions as if they are the bible.

The first one is normal, reasonable and reversible, believe it or not since you can move on and forget that that fic ever existed.

The second is *shivers* tacky.

Listen, though: if you have already made up your mind (stopping writing altogether), I 100% support you. You shouldn’t feel pressured to do so just because there’s a new game coming up. (I think that’s what you meant?)

But if you want to start writing again and decide to revisit the source material and apply the things suggested above, it’d be better to reform your relationship with this kind of feedback because me telling you that these people don’t matter won’t do you any good. It’s not a reasonable explanation. Sometimes, we want other people’s feedback; that’s why we share what we do.

The reality is that there are people out there who are deeply troubled. They have issues with their families, their jobs, themselves, and god knows what else. They are in pain, and they don’t know how (or don’t have the means) to help themselves. Sometimes, this pain is beyond them, so instead of doing something to solve their problems actively, they displace it onto others.

Seriously, babe, it’s a thing. Here, look:

Displacement is a defence mechanism that involves an individual transferring negative feelings from one person or thing to another.

Example: “My father screams at me, but i can’t scream back at him because he is an ‘authority’. I’m in pain, so, as a result, I choose to scream at this less-threatening person who happens to be a stranger online.”

Mind you, this is beyond their comprehension, NOT because they are stupid, but because they never learned that this is an unhealthy way to cope.

So next time this happens, don’t get angry or upset. Empathise with them.

Hurt people, hurt people.

And if all else fails, just do what I do and block them; that’s what I do 🤷🏻‍♀️. Just don’t attack back and don’t reply; let it end there.

[inthedarkshadows000]

SneakPeak#103.......

From the story I might never write.

Thud.

"That's it, were taking a break. I need some time to gather my self respect back." I begged from the floor where toji had dumped me like a sack of potato, rather just a potato. Anything more would give me too much credit.

Toji and I had been going at it for ages. I had convinced him to teach me how to fight and he had reluctantly agreed.

I could roll my eyes just thinking about the conversation.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Pretty please....."

"No."

"Pretty please with a cherry on top." I am sure it's easy to know who is begging whom. With whatever happened recently, I decided to get my head out of my ass and finally learn some cool moves and who better to teach than the god himself.

"Why dont you go bother one of the other brats."

"You know why."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do."

"I don't think so, why don't you remind me." His obnoxiously sexy smirk made me want to kick him to the moon and back. However, in order to do exactly that, I needed him to train me so I played nice.

"Because you sir, are a god amongst men and I only want the best to teach me."  I said lathering up as much sugar as I could to my tone.

His satisfied expression made me wanna kiss the shit out of him. So cute.

So here we were, him wiping the floor with my ass without even moving more than his left arm, let alone him breaking a sweat.

"You are pitiful." He said with a bored expression but lemme me remain lying on the floor to take a breather.

"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't already know that." I didn't bother opening my eyes as I grumbled.

"Tch. That's it." That made me snap my eyes open and sit up straight.

"Wait!! No!! I didn't mean to be snappy. Don't give up on me." I begged. He cannot seriously be done because I want a break!!!

"Stop crying woman. I meant for today." He seemed even more annoyed now. This made slump back in relief as I leaned my weight on my hands, behind me.

I mean my eyes did start watering a teeny Meeny bit. In my defence I don't like people giving up me.

He had taken a seat on my left and I tilted my face to look at him. I couldn't help but glance at his scar every few seconds.

I mostly blame this for distracting me during practices but let's be fair, I wouldn't be any better still.

Now, done with practice, I didnt bother hiding my fascination. In a trance, I turned to my left so I faced him. My right hand moved towards his face and I shifted my gaze to his eyes when I saw his eyebrows furrow.

"What do you think you are doing?" His rough voice grumbled as he thumbed his scar.

"May I?" I motioned towards it and replaced his thumb with mine slowly, in case he wanted to move away, without waiting for his response.

" It's beautiful. I can't believe the injustice that show did, I mean don't get me wrong they did make seem sexy but... in reality it's so... beautiful." I couldn't help but murmur. The contrast between his smooth skin and the rought texture of the scar evident.

"You fucking right?? Beautiful?!" He swatted my hand away and rolled his eyes. I leaned back on my hands, realising I might be in his space uninvited.

Once I took notice of the disbelief in his tone, I couldn't help but lean forward and shake his shoulders -Not that I could move him an inch- and looked him dead in the eyes as I said, "OH no I am so serious!! You know I was anyway always obsessed with those eyebrow scars that people have. Always found it so attractive but never had the guts to purposely do it myself because frankly my parents would have my head but then there was this one time where I was just normally walking and like totally tripped on air and banged my entire face against the corner of my dining chair. It was made of solid wood and my face went SPLAT on it." I made a sound as I moved my palm towards my face.

I pouted as I remebered the cut I got and pointed at it. " I got a cut here on my forehead and after I recover from the concussion I was so annoyed that I didn't plan the fall so I could get that eyebrow scar. I hadn't watched the show till then though and when I watched it later my new obsession was a lip scar. Just so when I met you we could be twinsies. I mean it was a wishful thinking and I knew it was impossible. Now I so wish I had gotten that scar because obviously this" I motioned between us, "wasn't as impossible as it seemed." I chucked.

"You normally blabber so much?" He raised an eyebrow but didn't actually seem annoyed. I fact he seemed slightly softer.

"I have my moments. This was so you would believe that you really are pretty." I grinned at him.

He scoffed the moment I had finished. "You don't think I already know that I am handsome and a killer. You'll be best to remember that." The softness that had entered his features was gone. His look now a warning.

I wasn't scared though and looked at him head on. There are things he deserved to hear, I was gonna damn well tell him it, "I do remember it, actually admire you for that."

"Are you mocking me?!" His face had become harsher, lips pulled back and I got glimpse of his canine.

Wonder how those would feel on my neck. Aaaannnddd you are getting side tracked again.

"Why would you say that? I really do admire your strength." I couldn't help but frown, as I questioned him.

" I am a horrible person and you admire me for it?! don't bullshit me." He snorted.

In a voice, i hoped was soothing yet sure, I explained to him, "I admire you because you stood on your own and fought for yourself even though the entire world was against you. You were dealt with bad cards toji, you did the best you could with them. It's called being resourceful. I believe people define other bad or good according to their personal gains from a person. If your work would be favouring an individual you probably would be the best else the worst. So don't define yourself based on other's opinion. If you had been given the right kind of love and respect, you would definitely be better but you weren't. You had to fight for the things that others received as basics. You had the option to die or fight and you fought. It makes you fighter, a damn good one at that, and it scares people. When people are scared they try to tear you down and make you insecure."

I refused to break eye contact with him even though his heavy gaze made me want to melt. He needed to hear that but suddenly I felt like I may have over stepped a lot of boundaries. The look on his face shifted, no longer angry. If I didn't know I would call it broken.

"But I have killed people and that is wrong." He pressed.

I slowly moved my hands to take one of his in mine and pressed lightly as a comforting gesture, waiting for him to pull back, surprised when he didn't.

"And there are people who paid you to do it. To make you do their dirty work. You know I read somewhere IF YOU CANNOT LOVE YOUR CURRENT SELF THEN BECOME THE VERSION YOU CAN. Don't you think if you've realised that it was wrong then there is still hope, for you to change and be someone you can accept. I don't know if it'll help but I just wanna let you know that you can consider this house your safe place. You don't have to fight to be accepted now, I promise to fight for you. You can kill someone or start giving births, it'll all be the same for me, if you agree of course." There was pin drop silence as my monologue finished. I was ready to tell him this as many times as he needed to hear it but I also realised how serious everything had turned.

"Also please don't actually start giving births, you pigs cannot take everything, we girls are literally working with crumbs here." I couldn't help but add at the end. All the tension made me want to run.

He took the bait as he finally smirked "YOU fight for ME!? Might as well plan my funeral now."

"Yeah... Well... right after you teach me how to." I rolled my eyes as if it was obvious making him bursts out laughing. He ruffled my hair as he moved to get up and I quickly got up too.

Taking quick steps towards the door I threw over my shoulder, "Also m'gonna call you pickachu from now."

"Like hell you are." I didn't turn around to tell he wanted to shoot me. It made me laugh.

Still laughing I shrugged my shoulder, "You do have an uncanny resemblance to pickachu. Especially with the whole annoy-me-and-i'll-electrocute-you vibe." I tried to imitate his gruff baritone.

"Woman stop talking, you will not call me that yellow rat." He sounded so offended as he followed.

"Exactly!!! Picka it is."