#should i do something to celebrate??? should i draw something???? open in-character drawn asks as sniv maybe????? hm

[snively-mun]

[de-fanzine-cpr-pale]

We're at 86 participants! Let's try for 100!!

–SIGN UP HERE–

Please only apply once!

This not-for-profit zine aims to create a showcase of the Disco Elysium fandom's talents! Have something you love drawing? Have something you can't get enough of? Have an idea you've been meaning to get out? Share it here, with us!

You will be asked for a piece that reflects what you love most about the game / what is most personal to you. The piece should tie into a lyric or a set of lyrics from a song. These lyrics may be included in the piece itself or be used as the title. This can be any song that has ever existed.

The idea is that through celebrating this game, we keep its world and its characters and its story alive. With our love for Disco Elysium, we save it from dissolving into the Pale. We save it from being forgotten, from being erased from memory. We come together and through our love for the game, we preserve it.

This is why we will be known as the Counter-Pale Resistance. This is why the title of our zine will be Pale_, struck-through.

As the lines of an old song go, "All of this belongs to you. All of this belongs to me. All of this belongs to us. And it goes on endlessly."

OPEN (This form closes on JULY 19th, 2024, 11:59 PM EST.)

Think of this form as an RSVP! This will basically reserve your spot in the zine. You will sign up here, and when the sign up closes, I will open a form for submissions. IF YOU DO NOT FILL THIS SIGN UP SHEET, YOU WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO SUBMIT YOUR ART TO THE ZINE. Please only apply once! Only one medium will be allowed for submission.

Anyone is free to join. There will be no application process. Submissions are planned to be due the beginning of October.

Participants will be asked for ONE PIECE of art. It can be one type of medium or a mix of mediums.

Artists are asked for 1 piece of art that features a clean sketch, clean lineart, or no lineart that is fully colored or toned (includes grayscale / monotone). Comic artists are asked for five (5) pages maximum! Art must be polished and writing legible, and it must be at least toned includes grayscale / monotone). Writers are asked for one (1) piece of writing no longer than five thousand words (5k). The writing can be prose, a poem, a script, etc. It must be in English and preferably should be polished! Other mediums will be allowed on a case-by-case basis!

Collaborations (collabs) are allowed as well, but you will have to talk to me about who will be in it!

Mix of mediums are allowed as well as long as they are related to each other and form one piece.

–SIGN UP HERE–

Organized by @p0rchc0ll4ps3 (main, @theymakemedreamyourdreams) Please share this post with everyone in the fandom!!

Art used here drawn by @p0rchc0ll4ps3 .

Twitter version of this post HERE.

[nekoannie-chan]

Draw

Title: Draw.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Pre-serum!Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 464 words.

Square: D3 “Pre-serum.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve joined a drawing contest.

Major Tags: Fluff.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @sweetspicybingo, Sweetheart Bingo Card & square 2:

"Proud of u.”

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

This is my entry to @cabottombingo Captain Bottom Bingo round 2. CABB2024.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammitt @kmc1989 @somegirlfrom

1940

Steve watched you attentively while you read them the book you had in your hands. Bucky seemed to be falling asleep. After a long time, you decided to take a day off. Anyway, nobody was going to look for them.

“I'm going to participate in the drawing contest," Steve said, suddenly interrupting you.

“What contest?" You questioned.

“Really? You said you weren't going to do it." Bucky was puzzled.

“Yeah, well, I think I have a drawing that's perfect for the occasion." Steve was beginning to sound nervous.

You and Bucky looked at each other blankly but didn't think much of it; you needed Steve to be more confident.

“Do you have something to do on Saturday?" Steve asked as soon as you opened the door.

“Does Bucky have any ideas for a triple date?"

Whenever Steve asked you that question, it was always because Bucky already had plans and you two were probably going to be bored.

“No, it's the contest expo," Steve replied.

“I'm busy going to the contest expo," you confirmed.

The day of the contest, you were trying to find the drawing Steve had made for the occasion, but all the time he somehow or other prevented you from seeing it, you began to suspect he was hiding it, so you were more curious about what he had drawn.

In the end, he managed to distract you with the muffins that were in the place, so much so that you didn't even pay that much attention to the rest of the participating drawings anymore.

You almost threw the muffin away when they announced that Steve's drawing had won first place; it just meant that the drawing was very good.

“I'm so proud of you, Steve," you congratulated him as you left the place. The next day, you would make him some cookies to celebrate.

“You should show him what you drew, Stevie; you spent the whole exhibition avoiding Y/N to see what you did," Bucky commented. You could notice a slight malice in the tone of his voice.

"No, I don't think that's necessary."

You snatched the drawing from him when you noticed that Steve was pressing it against his thin chest and unrolled it. You were dumbfounded to see that it was a portrait of you.

“I don't look like that," you whispered. The drawing was too beautiful.

“That's how I see you," Steve mumbled.

“I have things to do," Bucky said as he left. He always knew how you two felt about each other, so he only helped them a little.

“You can draw me as many times as you want if it will win you all the contests in the world," you commented.

“I will; I will win as many times as it takes."

[gamebunny-advance]

My Compromise (Celebrating 1,000 Followers)

So, I finally hit 1,000 followers not too long ago~ I know the majority of that number isn't actually active, but it's still a cool milestone to have hit nonetheless. So thank you if you've stuck around or if you're new here. I do appreciate any and all support that I get from y'all~ Even though I make art almost solely to make myself happy, I can't deny that having an audience is a decent motivator, so I'm happy to have caught your attention for whatever reason~

Recently, I asked y'all if you'd want me to hold the usual "follower milestone celebration" to open art requests, but the reaction was kinda indifferent~ Still, even though they were in the minority, I do feel a little bad that the people that did want to do it got shut down. So, here's my compromise:

I'll do another Six Fanarts challenge~ If you've never seen this, all you have to do is suggest a character for me to draw in my ask box, and I'll draw it in one of these rectangles.

Please include the series the character is from. I live under a rock, so there's a good chance I'm just not gonna know who your character is if you don't tell me.

It's virtually the same as making a request, but maybe framing it this way will make it more fun for y'all and motivate more people to participate (plus I'll have an excuse to not do full body drawings. Those take a long time ya know~).

Even though this is a "six" fanarts challenge, I actually wanted to do at least 10 of these, I just don't feel like editing the graphic right now~ Maybe I'll even bump it up to 12 so I don't have to edit the graphic at all~

Here are my rules about it:

No OCs. Sorry, that's still gonna be a rule~ I know y'all have some cuties that I'd actually love to draw, but making rules about it is tiring since I'm not mutuals with everyone that I like, so it's easier to just ban all OCs U_U. (Maybe I should consider opening art trades?)

I will draw for fandoms I'm not familiar with unless I'm not comfortable with it for whatever reason. I'm not gonna make a list of banned subjects, but I'll let ya know if it's something I don't wanna do.

Anons will be allowed. I prefer to keep these kinds of celebrations to be follower only, but I realize that some people are just shy, so since this is a lower-stakes way of celebrating, I'll go ahead and allow anons. HOWEVER, people that I can verify as followers are gonna get priority over anons and non-followers. So, if you wanna increase the chance that your character gets drawn, try to come out of your shell a little~

I'll let y'all send requests for a day or 2, and then I'll pick the ones I wanna do from the requests I got. I'll generally try to abide by "first come, first served," but it's not a hard rule. Here's a rundown of my general priorities (assuming the request doesn't conflict with one of the rules and doesn't offend me):

Highest Priority: Follower requests

Middle Priority: Anon/Non-Follower requests from series I know/like

Low Priority: Anon/Non-Follower requests from series I don't know

[ren-c-leyn]

1,000 follower celebration event!

 Hello, hello! As promised, we’re finally going to celebrate my 1,000 follower milestone~!

 There’s going to be a lot going on in the event, so please read over everything carefully before you jump in. ^^

 This will be a three part event, in that I’m going to be basically running three events at the same time. The individual parts’ rules will be separated, so if you’re only interested in one or two of them you don’t have to wade through all of the rules, and at the end I’ll put the rules that apply to all three of them.

Part 1 - The Follower Celebration Story.

 I’ve run this one for three milestones in the past, I believe, and all three stories have ended up being wild different. The basics are, you folks send me words, and at the end of it, I have to use All of them to write a single short story at the end of the event.

 Rules for this one ~

* All words must be in english and have a dictionary reference I can look up.

* They can be as common or crazy as you’d like.

* All words must be safe for work, and I won’t be accepting names for the words.

* You may send up to 5 words, but they must all be in the same ask.

* Please only submit words into my ask box so I can keep everything organized and find them later. I’m going to have a lot to keep track of and this will help things go smoother.

* Submissions are open until the end of the event, words sent after the deadline will not be used.

Part 2 - The Personalized Short Stories/Poems.

 This is an old favorite of mine to run ^^ Here’s the rules for you ~

* Stop by my ask box with a mood/feeling and something that makes you feel it, for example wonder and stars.

* If you prefer a poem or a short story, please state so in the ask. If you don’t state a preference, it will be dealer’s choice.

* I will then write a short story or a poem inspired by it.

* One short story or poem per person.

* I will be fulfilling these as they come in. Submissions are open until the event ends.

Part 3 - The Art Lottery

 Okay, so this is the very first time I’m doing this part for a celebration. I’ll be holding a lottery. For what? Art of your OCs! I will be drawing the winners’ OCs. Yes, winners, plural. ^^ I will be drawing three people’s OCs. If you’d like to see examples of my work, I have done a few pieces of my own characters, plus one piece of fan art for @writeblrfantasy. They should be tagged under my art in the blog.

Rules for the art lottery ~

* Stop by my ask box and let me know that you’d like to enter the lottery.

* One entry per person.

* Any entries sent after the event’s end date will not count, so make sure to send them in by then.

* I will not be drawing gore, nsfw, ghosts, demons, body horror, or anything along those lines. Please keep that in mind while selecting a character for me to draw.

* Winners will be selected via random number generator.

* The character you ask to have drawn Must be your own original character.

* If you win, I’ll contact you and ask you which character you’d like to have drawn, for a reference to work with, and a little bit about their fashion sense and personality.

* I will only be drawing one character per person.

* I will be selecting the poses I draw them in, and the drawings will all be torso and up of the characters.

* Important Note - These may take me awhile depending on what’s going on irl and how complex the designs are, so patience with me will be a must. I also cannot promise they will perfectly fit your vision of them, only that I will do my best. The more details you give about them, the closer I can get to your mental image of them. though. The winners will be chosen after the event’s end date, and they will get their art pieces as I complete them after that.

Rules common for all of the above Please Read Before Participating!

* If you are participating in multiple parts of the event, send them in Separate Asks. If you send words for the celebration story in the same ask as your short story/poetry request, I will either lose your words or won’t be able to fulfill your request until after the event. So, let’s not do that :)

* You must be following to participate, new and old followers are all welcome to join in the fun.

* Please send all of the entries for everything to my asks so I can keep track of everything in one place.

* You are more than welcome to participate in all three parts of the event if you’d like. <3

* You are not obligated to participate in all three parts if you don’t wish to. Only want to send in words? Great ^^ Just want to join in the lottery? Best of luck to you! Want to join in two parts but the third isn’t your cup of tea? No problem! The point of the celebration is to have fun, after all.

* This event ends on February 20th, 2022. Make sure you have everything you wanted to participate in sent in by then! It is the absolute last day you can submit things for the event.

 And I just wanted to say it again: Thank you all for all of your support over the last few years. It has meant a lot to me. Honestly, I never expected this blog to grow to this point, or to have met so many lovely people, when I first joined tumblr. You all have been a huge help to me growing as a writer and a person. I’m so glad that I worked up the courage to start this blog and talk to the incredible members of the writing community. You’ve been amazing, and I look forward to sharing many more milestones with you all.

 May you always find the word you’re looking for, and have a lovely day/evening.

~ Ren

People who wished to be tagged ~ @hannahs-creations @hyba @catinthesun2 @writingonesdreams

[sneezefiction]

please don’t go

Ushijima x Reader - Scenario

@moonlightaangel‘s event request: “congrats on reaching 600 followers!! 🥰 can i request ‘please don’t go’ with ushijima, if it hasn’t been requested yet! i need some angsty feelings in my life”

a/n: mmmm angsty Ushijima is my aesthetic :,,)) i also messed around with some flashback formatting, so i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: angst, breakups

wc: 1640

---

“Please don’t go.” It’s a soft, tearful whisper.

“I thought you would understand, y/n. We had established this.” His reply was blunt. Like a dull knife to the chest, digging deeply only to pull right back out, leaving you gushing and writhing at his words.

“Please don’t.” Your cry reached his ears this time.

“I need to focus.” He sighs, twinging with guilt. 

Why didn’t you understand? Had you not known that his career would come first? Above everything else?

Or had he misspoken at some point, giving you the false assurance that this relationship would work forever? That he could always treat you as though it were possible to balance both you and his life’s work.

“Then I won’t distract you! Just don’t leave me. Please.” You begged, knees painfully falling to the cold floor, but your cries fell on deaf ears. 

He remains resistant to change. Without accommodations. Nothing left to give or take.

“Maybe someday, y/n. But this isn’t working out for me anymore. I have to leave for now.” Ushijima’s response is icy. 

He meant for those words to somehow be heartening. Promising, even. That maybe this was just the wrong time and place for a relationship. Where time could ebb and flow and someday he would be able to draw you back into his life.

Yes, there would be a day where you could take priority.

Because he wanted you… but not above his first love. Not above his skills and lifestyle. Not enough.

Volleyball comes first. Plain and simple.

And for that, he wouldn’t compromise.

---

White, crisp linens and fresh lemony scents.

Fluffed pillows fitted with new covers and soft patterns. Feather filled duvets. Curtains drawn to keep out the early morning light. 

Everything has stayed clean, clear, and Pristine. Even the dust particles, dancing around the room, have always seemed to find their own peace, settling mildly in gentle formations.

You sleepily blink open your eyes, rustling your arms over the bedspread to what should be a happier sight. Soft pillows hugging your sides, the gentle birdsong outside your window, a conceivably delicious cup of coffee to be made in the kitchen.

Yes, you should be filled with contentment. You were safe. Physically you were fine, and nothing was on your checklist for today.

In fact, things had appeared fine for months now...

Yet all you notice is who’s missing.

There’s no longer a delicate divet where his dozing head used to lay. The scent and shape of the pillow had only recently dissipated thanks to your citrusy laundry detergent and the slow passing of time.

You don’t awaken to a recently showered, olive-green eyed boyfriend. You could still picture the water droplets, hanging freshly on the tips of his tufts of hair. How the towel draped around his neck, over his shoulders, catching the drips and drops as they fell.

That warm smile he shared with you before placing a chaste kiss upon your forehead, caressing the side of your face. It was pure. You can almost feel the ghost of his lips. Still lingering. Mocking you.

You were liberated from his presence… but you never wanted to be.

Being absorbed in his chaotic life had kept you busy, but you had never minded it. There was never a doubt in your mind that volleyball would be his first priority. That he would follow his passions. His plans. His abilities.

You just wanted to tag along. To sincerely celebrate his victories and mourn his losses. Supporting him and holding onto him when he needed it. Yes, he got home late at night, left early in the morning, and only connected with you on his very few off days… but you cherished every second of it.

Because you loved him. You poured your soul into watching him flourish and thrive. It made you feel whole.

However, eventually, to Ushijima, you started to rival volleyball, becoming a distraction. He had made space for you in his already complicated life. And at first, it was a welcome change. A breath of fresh air to his methodical and planned out character. You were complex, bringing new perspective and sunshine into his typically boring apartment. Beautiful in a natural, yet eye-catching way. Furthermore, you somehow knew how to keep up with his hectic pace along with his gruff personality. 

In every aspect, you were perfect.

Expect one.

You were a diversion from the life he had in mind.

And even though you never pushed him to give you more… he longed to give you more of his attention. More time. To share his success with you. To love you deeper. To give you what you deserved. Because you are a profound being… and it burdened him to have to choose between his two greatest desires.

But, as most things do, these thoughts of love and devotion go unspoken, coming out all wrong. Mangled, unemotional, and misrepresented. Looking back, Ushijima wishes he’d been able to express it to you with empathy. To erase the tears that followed his brutal narrative. But softness isn’t his strong suit… and he needed you to know that, as powerful as he was, he wasn’t strong enough to balance you and volleyball.

---

“Ushijima, if you leave…” You take a deep breath, tears slipping down your face, “... you have to promise me you’ll never come back.” You choke out, your request came out in a sobering snarl.

For a moment, you question your own words- but your dignity was on the line.

“You can’t just break up with me and expect me to be there when you get back. I’m not disposable, you know?”

His body goes rigid. He hadn’t meant it that way.

You meant more to him than words could express… so why couldn’t he get it out clearly enough? How could he make you understand the gravity of his choices?

“...Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like that. I just need to concentrate right now.” The alarm, though subtle, shines in his eyes.

His usually composed, confident figure began to show cracks of uncertainty. He didn’t want you out of his life… Not at all.

He just needs you out of his mind for the time being. Just until he had things settled. You could come back at some point and he could love you so well. Just the way it was supposed to be.

But clearly he’d struck a deeper chord. He’d selfishly assumed you would wait for him. You weren’t some prized pony.

You’re a person. Someone with worth, plans, and dreams, just like him. He’d failed to acknowledge just how demeaning the truth of his actions were. But it’s too late.

You haven’t replied and the pain is etched intricately across your face.

“Okay, fine.” He breathes in deeply, letting out one final exhalation of defeat, “I... I’m sorry, y/n.” His brows furrow in deep, conflicted thought, but his mind is made.

He won’t be back.

---

Ushijima’s life hasn’t changed much.

It’s the same old routine. The standard, grueling workouts. Typical volleyball practice, group meetings, finances, paychecks, physicals, doctor’s appointments, fan meet-n-greets.

The usual.

But there’s a void settling like glacial frost in his soul. A snowy blue that seemed to melt into his bones, slowing him down.

He didn’t go a week… a day...  a minute without thinking of you.

Even now, lying in bed, the room cloaked in a tranquil darkness, you rest on his mind.

It’s not just the emptiness of the bed or the lack of physical touch. It’s the bitter, clawing memories of what he’d done to you and your gentle spirit. His body is frigid and forever frozen in the recurring visions of his foolish explanations, by how heartless and indifferent he’d seemed.

He’ll never get over the venomous tinge to your words.

You’d felt used.

He’d never meant to make you feel that way.

But since he moved out of your apartment, everything has felt glaringly hollow. The icy, barren tundra he crosses every time he realizes he won’t come home to your sunbeam smile and those thoughtfully lit candles, wears on him. How you would lavish him in comforting words, lulling him into a restful sleep.

Ushijima hardly remembers the last time he slept well.

Those dark circles under his eyes follow him everywhere. His whole team can see the exhaustion seeping into his execution of serves and spikes. He’s never struggled with his game performance before, but somehow the crashing reality of you leaving him has broken his patterns and systems.

He’s weary from searching for an answer to his emotions. Your warmth gave him life… and with that gone, what was the point of all of this?

And then it struck him, the realization sinking its needle-sharp claws into his soul, shredding it in seconds.

He’d found something far more valuable than any unique skill. More remarkable than the legacy he’d built as a world-class volleyball player. Someone who wanted to be with him just for the sake of… love.

And for the first time since he was young, he lets a tear slip into his white pillowcase.

Just one.

But it’s for you.

Because in chasing after what made him feel known and alive...

He’d lost the only person who had ever wanted to show him that he was important all along. The only person who was satisfied with his bizarre schedules. Someone who expected nothing more than gentle kisses and weekend dates.

But you were right.

You aren’t dispensable. Nor are you someone to drop for the purpose of picking up later, like loose change on a sidewalk. You deserved to be cherished. Held tightly. Given the love that you offered others.

He wishes he’d listened when you’d pleaded with him to stay. That he’d thought it through and functioned on more than just logic and reasoning. If only he’d known what it really meant to choose you.

Because if you were here now, he’d be the one begging,

“Please don’t go.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @miss-rin

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list) 

[shoujosekaii]

Futari de Koi wo Suru Riyuu

两个人相恋的理由

ふたりで恋をする理由

Chapter 36

The Christmas party gang has finally settled down to celebrate Christmas and are having a good time. Urara is sitting awkwardly between Misono and Obi.

Urara wonders about her awkward sitting position and also about what happened earlier, in the previous chapter. She glances over at Misono and wonders if Misono was referring to her, when he had said " I will never let her have that kind of experience ever again!"

She further recalls Misono's words: "No matter who it is, be it you or anyone else, I'm not going to hand over this role!" and wonders, what "this role" refers to, and what he meant by "I'm not going to hand over".

Misono notices her stare and asks her what's up. She gets startled by his question and falls over - onto Obi. Obi asks Urara what's wrong, and if she wanted to come near him (and says she could if she wanted to). Urara frantically denies it while apologizing profusely.

Suddenly, Urara is yanked away from Obi, back to Misono's side. He says with a glare,

"She just slipped. Don't get ahead of yourself."

Letting go of Urara, Misono nags Urara, saying that she hasn't eaten much, and asks her to hand him her plate. Urara says that she'd take the food herself, but Misono insists on helping her. Obi looks on and thinks to himself that Misono is the old granny type.

Meanwhile, Urara is thinking that the Misono now is as calm as he usually is, and wonders if she is the only one who is bothered by what happened earlier at the lift lobby. She feels ashamed for being so self-conscious.

While Misono hands Urara back her plate filled with food (she thanks him), Urara thinks that Misono and Obi are simply fighting over something that she's unaware about, so she should just resume being her usual self.

Next, Saito announces that it's time for the gift exchange. Everyone has prepared a gift each labelled with a number, and everyone draws a number to see which gift they get.

Misono has drawn the number 3 gift, which was prepared by Kumada. It's a pencil case with the character that Moe adores. Moe excitedly says that Misono obtained a wonderful gift. Meanwhile, Kumada is crying, telling Misono to cherish the gift (Kumada prepared the gift with only Moe in mind). Everyone else looks on with sweat drops on their heads.

Next, Saito brings out gifts number 5 and 8. Urara has drawn 5 and Obi 8 - and turns out that gift #5 was from Obi while gift #8 was from Urara - meaning that they picked each other's gifts. Everyone realizes the coincidence, and Saito teases that this feels like fate.

Obi whispers to Urara, "They said that we're a fated pair. I think so too."

Urara goes "Eh?" and stares back at Obi with a light blush on her face.

Obi opens the gift from Urara - it's bottles of honey. Urara suddenly becomes nervous and wonders aloud if it's a strange choice of gift. She says that this gift exchange included boys, but she has no idea what boys like, so she simply went with food. Obi reassures her that it's a fine gift. Urara continues to blabber on that the honey could be used in many ways - to spread on toast, to add to yogurt, and in particular, she has often been adding it to warm milk to drink. She adds that she really likes the third method and recommends it to Obi.

We see that the honey and what Urara is saying has caught Misono's attention and he understands the significance of Urara's choice of gift.

Later, Urara is doing the dishes while the others are chatting and laughing. She notices that Misono is rummaging through his cupboards looking for something, and asks him what he is doing. Misono replies that he is searching for candles. He says that they will be eating cake later on, so they would need candles to light and blow out, but the box that came with the cake didn't have candles. Hence, he is searching for his spare candles.

Urara says that candles are put on birthday cakes, and since they're having a Christmas cake, they don't really need candles. Misono realizes his ignorance and agrees awkwardly. Laughing lightly, Urara offers to help Misono pack up the things that he has placed all over the kitchen floor. Misono tries to say that he'll do it himself, but Urara insists on helping.

Giggling to herself, Urara says that Misono is cute for thinking that they need to blow out candles for Christmas cakes, while Misono sulks lightly at being called "cute".

Suddenly thinking about it, Urara asks when Misono's birthday is. Misono appears reluctant to answer, but he says quietly,

"It's, it's tomorrow..."

Urara is stunned and reacts strongly, saying that this is news that should be shared with the rest, so that they can celebrate together. However, Misono gets exasperated, whispering anxiously,

"Silly, you! Don't say it so loudly! It's fine if we don't tell them! It's fine even if they don't know!"

Huffing and pouting, Urara asks why, and Misono replies that he's not good at handling such situations, saying that it's unnecessary to celebrate. His back is towards Urara and we can't see his expression. Urara understands now, why Misono thought that candles were needed for the Christmas cake. She marvels at the fact that Misono's birthday falls on Christmas, but Misono says that it's not a big deal.

Urara asks about Misono's family, and whether his mother will be visiting him for his birthday. Still back-facing Urara, Misono answers that his mother sometimes comes, and sometimes doesn't, since she's always busy. He received a package this morning but hasn't opened it yet.

Urara is looking at Misono's back while he continues saying,

"It's not a big deal. I'm no longer a child."

Suddenly, Urara starts singing the birthday song for Misono, and he turns to look at her. Then, she holds up one finger towards Misono, and tells him to treat it as a lit candle to blow out.

Urara says, "Don't say that there's no need to celebrate. I am very thankful and happy that Misono-kun was born into this world. Even though it's a day early, Misono-kun, I wish you a happy birthday!"

Misono looks overwhelmed but doesn't react immediately. Urara starts getting embarrassed and tells Misono to quickly blow out the "candle". However, we see Misono suddenly move towards Urara.

Cutting over to the rest, Saito comments that they should be eating the cake soon. They realise that Urara and Misono are missing.

Back in the kitchen, we see that Misono has enveloped Urara in a hug.

[shreddedparchment]

A Playful Family

OTP Challenge 10/02/2020

Pairing: Thor x Reader          Word Count: 2,003

Warnings: Adult themes, language, LOTS of more fluff, sexy talk

A/N: This is for @thefanficfaerie​ ‘s OTP Challenge. I’m really enjoying these! Writing these out and just getting them out right away without worrying too much about plot. Just character stories with a family I already love. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“NO!” Thor shouts, nearly pushing your heart to stopping as he jumps towards you from the stairs.

You jump and gasp, pressing your hand against your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“Thor, what the fu-?”

“Ah-ah!” Thor chastises you, frowning. “Little ears abound, my sweetest, beautiful, loving, and most of all forgiving wife.”

He closes the distance between you, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you against his chest.

“What did you do?” You ask him, suspicious but he chuckles and kisses you, bring both hands up to hold your head still as he does.

His kiss is sweet and warm, a fluttering of his lips prompts yours open and he tastes you, guiding your head to the right as his own goes left and he wraps his arms around you to support your weight as he dips you to the side and very nearly sweeps you off your feet.

Your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline as your arms go limp and you drop your sewing bag. Without its weight, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck loosely as Thor kisses all of your senses away.

He draws his tongue out slowly, letting it trace the center part of your upper lip as he stands you upright again. When you’re straight he gives you one final peck.

You’re not unaware of the fact that you’re standing there with your arms around him, lips still puckered, and your eyes shut as your now foggy mind begins to clear.

Holy fuck, this man can kiss.

“Now I know you did something.” You mumble.

Thor laughs but reaches down to take your bag and hurries around to hang it in its spot by the door. Your little bungalow, gifted by Tony when Thor had left you pregnant—though in his defense he didn’t know you were pregnant when he left you—hasn’t changed much. There are new additions to your walls and tables. New pictures with Thor and Rosie and Ben looking bigger and happier with his sister and his daddy at his side.

Your little kitchen with it’s round table is more scuffed than before with Thor here to add his own rough touch to it every now and then. Ben’s booster seat is gone as he’s grown enough to sit without one, but Rosie’s highchair sits among the other three, pink and yellow and green. And all throughout an array of pumpkins, both plaster and plastic, Rosie’s color changing ones on the island counter by the jar of Splenda packets.

Ben’s spoopy mirrors are hung upstairs along the hallway, wrapped in pulled cotton spiderwebs.

“I have done nothing. That is to say, nothing worth you getting angry at me over.” Thor corrects himself when you look skeptical. “May I ask a favor?”

With your arms hanging at your side, your coat still on, Thor slides behind you and helps you take it off. “Depends on the favor.”

Thor nods, moving to stand before you as he folds your jacket neatly and works out the creases you’ve made throughout the day. “What if I told you it was more a favor for Ben, than for me? Would that make you more amenable?”

You glare at him, reaching down with his hands nice and busy, and slide it far back enough that you can reach his butt and give it a pinch.

He jumps, “Hey!”

“You using our son to get me to agree to play your sick games?” You accuse.

Thor smiles slowly, softly, and the look in his eyes drives all teasing from you and makes your stomach flip. How can he look at you like that? How can he mean it? After everything you two have been through to get to this happy place—this happy home—you still can’t believe that Thor picked you.

“Only if it works.” He admits.

“Fine.” You sigh.

Thor smiles more widely then moves around you to hang your coat.

His heat suddenly wraps around you from behind, his hands tracing all the way down to your wrists then the backs of your hands which he cups gently, taking hold of them as he presses himself against you.

You can feel his pelvis pressed against your bottom, the subtle rubbing he’s teasing you with probably to punish you for the pinch to his butt.

When he speaks, the heat of his breath wafts along your ear and neck, chills erupting along your skin as your heart begins to pound and your panties become suddenly soaked.

“Close your eyes.” He whispers, voice so deep you can feel it in your hoo-haw.

“Thor-” You plead, hating him every bit for torturing you.

He leans a little further forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Please?”

You sigh but do as he wishes, shutting your eyes tight.

He takes hold of your head again, tilting it back and sideways until your lips meet his and he gives you another world melting kiss that leaves you breathless and hungry for more.

“I’ll be right back.” He tells you, then abandons you and what sounds like sprinting up the stairs.

“You’re gonna break the house!” You call to him, but he doesn’t reply.

A few minutes pass and your patience grows thin. You open your eyes and look up at the second floor landing but find it empty.

“Thor? How much longer?!”

“Do you have your eyes shut?!” Thor booms down the stairs.

You sigh, shaking your head as you turn slowly and press your hands over your eyes. With a smile you wait, your mind racing with all the possible surprises Thor and Ben might have cooked up in your absence.

“Okay! They’re shut.”

You try not to turn instantly when you hear Thor’s footsteps coming down the stairs accompanied by the sound of much smaller feet at his side.

You can hear Ben’s quiet giggle, his voice a little hiss. “Mommy will wuv it, wight daddy?”

“She’ll love it.” Thor whispers back and your heart could explode with the love you have for your boys.

They stop walking and a moment passes before Thor clears his throat. “Okay, you can look now.”

You turn, much too eager to see what they’ve been doing to take it slow and you very nearly fall to your knees at the sight of them.

All three of them, Thor, Ben at his side, and Rosie kicking and slapping her hands against Thor’s chest in excitement are dressed in footie pajamas.

Thor’s are black, the outline of bones along every inch of it making him look like a walking skeleton. Ben’s a little scarecrow with brown shoes, green pants with sewn in patches, a checkered red and yellow shirt with a patched up brown vest. Just above where the shoes end, where his pants end, and where his shirt meets his neck and wrists are tufts of soft stringy sun colored threads and fabric to make it look as if he is indeed fill with hay.

In Thor’s arms, Rosie’s own onesie is black on the top with what looks like the outline of what should be a corset that runs into the skirt of her pajamas stitched into the onesie, and then her legs are purple and green, made to look like a witch’s socks.

“Oh my goodness!” You gasp, genuinely pleased by the sight, downright tickled by how adorable your babies look but you play up the reaction for the benefit of your little ones.

Ben giggles, jumping once but remembers the rule about jumping in the house and stops immediately.

“You wike it, mommy?” Ben asks, clinging to Thor’s free hand tightly.

“I love it, sweet pea. Oh you all look so amazing! Come here, come give me a hug!” You drop to your knees and open your arms for him and he flies right for you, clinging tight when he’s in your arms.

“Surprise!” Thor exclaims, grabbing Rosie’s hand and shaking her little fist in celebration, then speaks for her. “Surprise, momma!”

“My Rosie, look at her, she looks so dang cute, Thor! Where did you find these?” You let Ben pull away from you as he runs into the living room, excited and eager to expend the extra energy that this little show has given him.

“At the shop, when we went to buy the decorations. I have yours upstairs. Yours is all white, with a shocked ghost face on it. Kinda looks like you did when I startled you.” He chuckles, teasing you heartlessly.

“Jerk.” You laugh, getting up and reaching for Rosie. She throws herself at you and you smother her cheek with kisses as Thor marches into the living room after Ben.

“Alright, son, we’ve shown your mother the pajamas. It’s time for bed.”

Ben gives a small defiant whine but then struts to the stairs and with lead in his feet and a pout on his lips, he walks up the stairs with Thor trailing behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you really trying it on?” Thor calls from the room, waiting for you to make your appearance in your Halloween themed PJs.

“Of course. I need you to see me in it.” You tell him, wicked and knowing as to what you’re about to do.

He deserves it. He really deserves it after what he pulled downstairs.

“You’re not looking right?” You check, waiting with your hand on the door to your bathroom.

You’d left him sitting on his side of the bed, facing the large glass sliding doors that lead to the tiny balcony attached to your room. He’d already drawn the curtains thankfully.

“No. I’m not looking. I won’t cheat.” He promises and you believe him.

“Okay, here I come!” You announce then pull the door open and step out into your room.

He’s really still sitting facing the doors.

“What do you think?” You ask him and watch him lift his left leg onto the bed to traverse and turn towards you as best he can.

He might have been expecting the ghost pajamas but what you give him instead is soft gray baby doll lingerie set, with lace that looks like twisting dead tree branches along the top of your bust. The V neck ends between your breasts where the clasp holds the skimpy nightie shut. The layers of thin sheer fabric flow out at uneven lengths but hide just enough of the matching gray panties to tempt and give tantalizing sneaky peeks.

Thor’s jaw drops. He freezes. His eyes devour you from head to toe, but he doesn’t speak as you give him one quick spin that gives him a generous amount of you to ogle, the stop and pretend to only just remember the finishing touch.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You move around the bed towards your small vanity by the sliding doors and reach for the headband with small black horns.

You slide them onto your head and turn back to Thor, smiling when you see that his gaze has followed you from one side of the room to the other.

“Well? What do you think?” You give him another spin then sigh. “Maybe I should just go put on the ghost?”

You pretend to think about it.

“Yeah, I think the ghost would be better. Right?” You nod and make to move back around the bed to the bathroom but Thor’s arm shoots out at you like a cobra and with an easy pull he’s got you falling onto the bed on your back, bouncing as you laugh.

“Woah,” You laugh again. “Okay, maybe I’ll keep this one on then.”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, reaching down between your knees to trace his hot calloused fingers along the soft flesh of your inner thighs. “No, I think you should take it off.”

His hands makes you breathless and as his fingers find the elastic edge of your underwear, you gasp, and he swallows hard.

“Here, let me help you.”

[clumsyclifford]

you said i should say less about new ace content in general and i immediately understood that as say more so please gimme some ace stuff and please make it fluffy. i don't particularly care about the pairing but i'm always down for lashton and/or malum but any atl ship works for me as well so like just do your thing i guess wow that was a useless sentence this messy ask is further proof that i should go to sleep so bye love you!! -fiancee

well i ran with ace lashton in an interesting way i hope you enjoy it this is not based on real life but maybe it could be. in a better world it is. that’s all i’ll say about that, i hope you like it

read here on ao3

-

Luke likes going to the movies. He likes staying home and having a home-cooked meal. He likes quiet, simple, intimate activities.

He does not like parades.

“But it’s Pride,” Ashton wheedles. “D.C. Pride! One of the biggest pride events in the country!”

“You made that up, and I don’t care,” says Luke. “I don’t want to go. I don’t like parades.”

“It’s not really a parade.”

“Also not true.”

“Okay, but it’s not about the parade, it’s about the gathering,” Ashton says, gently shaking Luke. “It’s about a bunch of queer people all coming together and uniting in one space. Celebrating our differences and our similarities. Celebrating community.”

“That’s beautiful,” Luke says. Ashton looks hopeful. “Still no.”

Ashton huffs. “I don’t wanna go alone.”

“Go with Michael and Calum,” Luke suggests. “I’m sure they’d love for you to tag along.”

“And third-wheel all day? No thanks.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Luke says, and carries on setting the table for dinner. If his mum comes home to a half-set table, the blame will fall on Luke, of course. Ashton takes the cue and begins laying out plates.

It’s quiet for a moment. Luke can tell Ashton is trying to come up with a way to convince him to go to Pride, but it won’t work. Luke’s avoided Pride for seventeen years. He doesn’t intend to start now. Staying at home with his boyfriend and watching Rent is about as much as Luke cares to celebrate Pride Month. Maybe they’ll make out a little. Standards are low.

“Okay, how about this,” Ashton says, and Luke sighs deeply. “No, hear me out. And keep an open mind, okay? Think about compromise.”

“I’m listening.”

“What if we go before the parade starts?”

Luke frowns. “Then what would be the point?”

“There will still be people there,” Ashton says. “But it won’t be nearly as many people, and the festivities won’t really be happening yet, so we can still say we went to Pride but we won’t get caught up in the whole big thing.”

“But I thought you wanted the whole big thing.”

“Ah, whatever,” Ashton says, waving him off. “I’d rather go with you than see the parade alone.”

Luke feels bad. It’s obviously important to Ashton, or else he’d have given up already on trying to make Luke go. And as much as Luke knows he shouldn’t feel obliged to prioritize Ashton’s wishes over his own comfort, this makes him want to.

Compromise. “Okay,” Luke says. “Fine.”

Ashton blinks. “Really?”

“Did you think that wouldn’t work?”

“I—” Ashton’s face breaks into a smile. “I don’t know, not really, to be honest. Really? You’ll come?”

“Yes,” Luke says, and the delight in Ashton’s face makes up for the dread pooling in Luke’s stomach. 

Ashton shuffles around the table and presses a warm kiss to Luke’s cheek. “Thank you,” he says, warmth also bleeding into his voice. “I’m excited. You’re gonna like it.”

Probably not, but Luke keeps that thought to himself. He doesn’t need to rain on any more of Ashton’s parades.

-

Luke and Ashton are excited about Dupont Circle for different reasons. Ashton is basically vibrating out of his seat on the Metro as they approach their stop, where the parade is slated to begin at half past noon. It’s only eleven now, but that doesn’t seem to matter to Ashton. He seems confident that there will be enough Pride to satisfy his excitement without overwhelming Luke.

Luke’s just looking forward to the Krispy Kreme at the station.

They take the escalator out, and sure enough, there’s Krispy Kreme to the left. Luke grabs Ashton’s hand and yanks him towards the shop.

“Seriously? We’re at D.C. Pride and your priority is donuts?” Ashton says, but he allows Luke to tug him along until they’re at the door.

Luke turns to him and very seriously says, “Ashton, my priority is always donuts.”

“Yeah, that’s fair, I walked into that one,” Ashton mutters as they enter the store.

Five minutes and two donuts later, both of them exit, Luke munching contentedly on a strawberry-frosted donut (with sprinkles, of course) and Ashton carefully biting into his jelly-filled one. 

“Okay, starting now, we’re at Pride, and you can’t be a Negative Nancy,” Ashton declares.

“I promise not to be a Negative Nancy,” Luke vows. “I swear on this donut.”

Ashton beams. “Yay! Okay let’s go explore.”

You’d think this was Ashton’s first Pride for how excited he gets over everything. He stops at almost every stand, even though they’re all selling different versions of the same thing, and somehow manages to spark up conversation with any passing person who looks queer and interesting. Luke loves this about Ashton, how charming and outgoing he is, how he could befriend a vaguely human-shaped plant. People are drawn to him; Luke’s no exception. Ashton is very much the main character, even more so because he doesn’t seem to know it. He's just Ashton, and Luke loves him for it. Even when it means the halo of Ashton’s spotlight draws attention to Luke by extension.

Luke is not a charming, outgoing person. Luke is quiet and reserved. He’s never cared for the spotlight. Sometimes it’s a good thing that he has Ashton to pull him out of his shell a little. Sometimes he wilts under the scrutiny. It's a toss-up, but Luke appreciates that Ashton never stops trying.

Most of the tables selling merch boast shirts, hats, flags — the kind of thing you’d wear or own if you wanted to be loud and proud about your identity. Luke’s not really that kind of person. Luke’s way of coming out is to subtly slip into the conversation the fact that he has a boyfriend. Before he had a boyfriend, it pretty much never came up. Big, colorful flags have never been his cup of tea. 

And anyway, that’s only half of his identity. The other half never comes up, and Luke’s okay with that. It’s not like being ace is the kind of thing you can casually mention. It has to be a whole thing, every time, and Luke doesn’t want to deal with the whole thing, so he just doesn’t bother. Most of the time it doesn’t really matter. As much as Luke is able to fly under the radar, that’s what he intends to do.

“Hey, pins!”

Ashton is not like that.

“Luke, you like pins, right?”

The table they’ve stopped at is covered end-to-end with pins. Enamel or plastic, every single pride flag Luke has ever seen in his life is represented here, in a variety of shapes and sizes. The kaleidoscopic display is fun to look at, at least. There’s nobody behind the table at the moment, which means in theory it would be pretty easy to steal one, but Luke’s not like that, and even if he was he wouldn’t feel good stealing a pride pin from a small-business owner.

“I don’t really have an opinion,” says Luke.

“Ha,” Ashton says. “O-pin-ion. Haha.”

“I’m leaving you,” Luke says, turning away with a wry grin.

“No, come back.” Ashton grabs his wrist and pulls him closer, so Luke wraps an arm around his waist and rests his head on Ashton’s shoulder instead. “I like pins. They’re a very understated way of coming out.”

“Having a boyfriend is an understated way of coming out,” Luke replies.

"I resent you calling me understated," Ashton says in faux-indignance. Luke giggles.

“I’m so sorry, I had to run and grab some water,” says a voice, as a person bustles around them to stand behind the table. Their pink fringe is pushed back by a bandana and they’re wearing a jean jacket with so many pins and patches that the fabric is practically invisible. A sticker on the front pocket of the jacket introduces them as Alex, he/they :). “Can I help you with anything?”

“Just admiring the collection,” Ashton says brightly. “I love your jacket.”

“Thank you very much,” says Alex. “It’s been accumulating pins for about five years now.”

“Damn,” Ashton says, wolf-whistling. “That’s a good collection. I don’t have a good jacket for pins.”

“Wish I could tell you where I got mine, but it was a gift from my boyfriend,” Alex says. “I’ve heard thrifting is a good way to go.”

“You wanna go thrifting, Luke?” Ashton says, nudging Luke, who shrugs.

“Sure,” he says. He reaches for one of the asexual flag pins, a small enamel rectangle, and smoothes his thumb over the surface. “These are pretty nice.”

“You should buy it,” Ashton says. “Start a cool jacket. Then we could be matching.”

“You don’t have a cool jacket yet.”

“I know, but we could.”

“But neither of us have a cool jacket. So it’s not even—”

“Fine, ruin my fun,” Ashton harrumphs. To Alex, who’s watching them with amusement, Ashton says, “So how long have you and your boyfriend been together?”

“Oh, uh…” Alex’s gaze diverts to the air like he’s counting invisible numbers. “Six years? Almost? I think it’s gonna be six years in July.”

“Six years,” Ashton repeats in mild awe. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, high school sweethearts, blah blah blah,” Alex says, smiling. They shrug. “Everyone thought we’d break up when we went to college, but when you know, you know. You know?”

Luke swallows. Ashton says, “Good for you. That’s impressive.”

“I like to think so,” Alex says. “What about you? Are you guys together?” He winces. “Should I not have asked that? I’m sorry, to be honest this is Jack’s business, I’m just running the stand because he wanted to go look around a little before the parade started. My boyfriend Jack, I mean. Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s all good,” Ashton says. He hip-checks Luke gently, which Luke takes to mean something like is it cool if I tell him? It’s nice that Ashton is asking, but Luke had kind of figured everyone would assume they were together because, you know, Pride, so he doesn’t really care.

“Yeah,” he says. “For, what, eight months?”

“Eight months,” Ashton confirms.

Alex grins. “That’s great, I love it. What are your names?”

“Ashton,” says Ashton. “He/him.”

“Luke. Also he/him.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” Alex says. “I’m Alex. He/they.”

“Yeah, your thing says,” Luke says, pointing.

Alex laughs. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t see it. Or they see it and think it’s just another decorative pin.”

“Do people wear pronoun pins as decorations?” Luke wonders. “That seems strange to me.”

“People are ineffable,” Alex says solemnly. Then he grins. Luke likes Alex. In fact, little though Luke’s actually spoken today, he likes most of the people whom Ashton has stopped to chat up. Queer people are so friendly, is what Luke is learning. It almost makes him happy to be here. 

Except now Alex’s words are ringing in Luke’s head, and he can’t stop hearing them. Everyone thought we’d break up when we went to college, but when you know, you know. 

Ashton’s going to college this fall. Luke’s managed to forget about that fact because it’s only June, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Ashton’s leaving and Luke’s going to finish his senior year alone and what if something happens to them? What if they’re fooling themselves thinking they can do the long-distance thing? What if they’re doomed already and this summer is just prolonging the inevitable?

“Well, personally I would love to buy a pin,” Ashton says. “Luke, choose one.”

“What?” Luke says, blinking himself out of his spiral. “Why?”

“I’m buying you one,” Ashton says.

“I don’t—” Luke bites his lip. He’s still fidgeting with the ace flag pin, and he kind of likes it. Maybe he can subtly come out in different ways. Maybe he can just wear it, and wait for someone to ask. Then it’s way less of a big deal because it’s not like Luke has brought it up. 

There’s enough shame in the world. Luke doesn’t need to add to it.

“Okay,” he says instead. He holds up the ace flag. “This one.”

“Great choice,” Ashton says, digging out a five to give to Alex. He hesitates, then pulls out a ten instead. “Actually, maybe I’ll also get one. Then we can actually match.”

“Right, with our matching jackets that don’t exist yet.”

“You know what, fine, we don’t have to match.” Ashton makes a face at Luke. “You can put your pin on whatever you want. It’ll go great with your all-black closet.”

“Shut up,” Luke grumbles. Ashton laughs.

“Hey, don’t knock the all-black,” Alex says. “Black is the new black. It’s fashion forward.”

“Not in eighty-degree June it’s not,” Ashton says.

“It’s seventy-five,” Luke protests. “And Alex is wearing a jacket!”

“Yes, but Alex is not my boyfriend, and we only just met,” Ashton says, grinning. “Also, their jacket is sick as fuck.”

“It is sick as fuck,” Alex agrees. “But I’m still siding with Luke here. You can’t go wrong with all-black.” For the first time, he seems to register Luke’s shirt, and his eyes light up. “Hey, Green Day! I fucking love Green Day!”

“You should be my best friend,” Luke says seriously, and Alex nods equally seriously.

“Hey,” Ashton complains. “I like Green Day.”

“Thank you for the pin,” Luke tells Alex. “Good luck with the, uh, you know, selling more of them.”

“Of course, anytime,” Alex says. “I’m pretty sure there’s a website on these business cards if you ever want to, I don’t know, browse?” They shrug one shoulder. “This is why I’m not a small business owner.”

“Cool,” Luke says, taking the card. He probably won’t use it, but you never know. 

“Nice to meet you, Alex,” Ashton says, as he and Luke start to walk away, fingers interlaced between them. “Good luck! Happy Pride!”

“You too! Enjoy the parade!” Alex says, waving.

Luke doesn't bother to inform him they're not staying that long; he and Ashton turn away and continue walking, Luke with his new pin clutched in his fist.

“They were cool,” Ashton says enthusiastically. “There are so many fucking interesting people here. God, I love Pride.”

Luke grips the pin tighter. The pointy back starts to hurt where it’s pressing into his palm. “Yeah.”

“Thanks for letting me get you something,” Ashton says. “I know it’s not really your thing, but I don’t know. I felt like we should buy something after we stood there for so long.”

“No, yeah, I agree.”

“On the bright side, they’re pretty cool pins.” Ashton holds his out like he’s assessing what he’ll do with it. “Maybe Michael has an extra jean jacket he never wears. I could ask him.”

Luke hums. Ashton glances over at him, eyebrows drawn together. “Are you okay?”

Luke's not supposed to say anything like this. He’s supposed to be positive because he promised he wouldn’t be a “Negative Nancy” and the sky is so blue that Luke would hate to be the reason for rain, but if he doesn’t say it then it’ll just keep ringing around his head until he can’t think about anything else.

“You’re not scared we’re gonna break up when you go to college?” he blurts out.

Ashton stops short and their hands break apart so Luke’s falls to his side. “Where’d that come from?”

“You heard Alex,” Luke says. “Everyone thought he and his boyfriend would break up when they went to college.”

“But they didn’t,” Ashton says.

“But that’s obviously unusual,” Luke counters. He swallows hard. “I’m just saying…aren’t you worried?”

Ashton tilts his head. “Do you want me to be worried?”

And yeah, a little part of Luke does. Only because if Ashton’s worried, it means he values their relationship enough that it would hurt him to lose it. But Luke knows that’s not really fair, and he knows Ashton loves him, even if he doesn’t seem worried at all.

“No, I don’t know. I just— I don’t know.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says again. “I had pretty successfully managed to avoid thinking about it, but now…I don’t know.”

Ashton gently pries open Luke’s fist and runs his thumb over the red imprint the pin has left. Sheepish, Luke puts the pin in his pocket. As soon as his hand is free again, Ashton takes it, holding both of Luke’s hands in both of his own.

“I’m not worried,” he says quietly. His eyes are so sincere and his hands are so soft and Luke loves him and likes him and knows that to lose him would be a fate worse than death. “You must have missed the other half of Alex’s sentence. Remember? When you know, you know.”

Luke’s breath catches a little. “Yeah, but…”

“But what?” Ashton lifts a shoulder. “I already know, Luke. I’m in it for the long haul. So unless you meet some other guy who’s even awesomer than me and makes better puns, you have nothing to worry about. I’m not letting you get away that easy.”

Luke gazes at Ashton until the rest of the world falls away. “Oh,” he breathes.

“Okay?” Ashton quirks a smile.

Luke surges forward and kisses Ashton for as long as he can manage without passing out. It’s clumsy and sweet and Ashton’s hands tighten around Luke’s waist and Luke wraps his arms around Ashton’s shoulders and nothing else in the known universe matters except this.

When they finally break apart, Luke cracks a smile. “Okay.”

Ashton beams. He offers his hand to Luke again, and this time Luke takes it and doesn’t let go.

[de-fanzine-cpr-pale]

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This not-for-profit zine aims to create a showcase of the Disco Elysium fandom's talents! Have something you love drawing? Have something you can't get enough of? Have an idea you've been meaning to get out? Share it here, with us!

You will be asked for a piece that reflects what you love most about the game / what is most personal to you. The piece should tie into a lyric or a set of lyrics from a song. These lyrics may be included in the piece itself or be used as the title. This can be any song that has ever existed.

The idea is that through celebrating this game, we keep its world and its characters and its story alive. With our love for Disco Elysium, we save it from dissolving into the Pale. We save it from being forgotten, from being erased from memory. We come together and through our love for the game, we preserve it.

This is why we will be known as the Counter-Pale Resistance. This is why the title of our zine will be Pale_, struck-through.

As the lines of an old song go, "All of this belongs to you. All of this belongs to me. All of this belongs to us. And it goes on endlessly."

OPEN (This form closes on JULY 19th, 2024, 11:59 PM EST.) (tonight!!)

Think of this form as an RSVP! This will basically reserve your spot in the zine. You will sign up here, and when the sign up closes, I will open a form for submissions. IF YOU DO NOT FILL THIS SIGN UP SHEET, YOU WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO SUBMIT YOUR ART TO THE ZINE. Please only apply once! Only one medium will be allowed for submission.

Anyone is free to join. There will be no application process. Submissions are planned to be due the beginning of October.

Participants will be asked for ONE PIECE of art. It can be one type of medium or a mix of mediums.

Artists are asked for 1 piece of art that features a clean sketch, clean lineart, or no lineart that is fully colored or toned (includes grayscale / monotone). Comic artists are asked for five (5) pages maximum! Art must be polished and writing legible, and it must be at least toned includes grayscale / monotone). Writers are asked for one (1) piece of writing no longer than five thousand words (5k). The writing can be prose, a poem, a script, etc. It must be in English and preferably should be polished! Other mediums will be allowed on a case-by-case basis!

Collaborations (collabs) are allowed as well, but you will have to talk to me about who will be in it!

Mix of mediums are allowed as well as long as they are related to each other and form one piece.

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Organized by @p0rchc0ll4ps3 (main, @theymakemedreamyourdreams) Please share this post with everyone in the fandom!!

Art used here drawn by @p0rchc0ll4ps3 .

Twitter version of this post HERE.

[karls-writing-space]

『 Backstory 』

➵ Any TWs? :

➵ Subtle Mentions of Transphobia.

➵ Beau Romano - his deadname being Bianca - was born a year after his older sister, Faye. He lived with his semi-wealthy parents, Camilia and Dylan Romano in Manitoba.

When he was in second grade, Beau began to have a big sprout of creativity. He had drawn pictures of people and anthropomorphic animals, and create small little tales about these people/animals he has drawn. He Drew more and more of these as time slowly passed, and he enjoyed telling stories about these drawings. This had grown into a hobby, and something he enjoyed thoroughly.

His older sister came out when she was nine that she felt like a girl and that she was attracted to girls. Now, their parents are very accepting people and proceeded to assist and support Faye - who was formerly known as Lovino - get what she needed to transition.

Beau happily cheered on his big sister on, supporting her and showering her with love. He celebrated her transitions and her relationships happily, happy that he had such a prideful older sister.

By the time Beau was ten, he had begun to experiment with his sexuality by feeling some weird way towards a guy in music class. He talked with this guy more and more, and these feelings continued to grow.

After a couple of weeks, he felt the same way towards a girl in music class too. The feeling for the boy stayed, but now he had feelings for a boy and a girl.

One day, while walking to school with his mom, he heard two girls behind him talking about the people they liked. One of the girls had said that she was Bisexual, to which little Beau tugged on his mother's sleeve and asked what "Bisexual" meant. The woman explained that it was when someone liked two or more genders.

Beau put that into thought, and not even a minute later, he exclaimed "I'm Bisexual!"

His mom smiles and ruffled her son's - then daughter's - head. While Beau was still a kid, and she thought that Beau didn't know what he was talking about, the boy knew exactly what he was talking about.

Those feelings of the boy and girl faded over time. When Beau was twelve, he had fallen for another person. There had been this really cute girl in class who enjoyed drawing, and boy, what a talented artist she is.

Slowly, but surely, Beau began to fall in love with this girl, and spent time with her. Months went by, and the two had fallen in love.

The girl had confessed to Beau, which he accepted.

These two were a great, healthy Lesbian couple at the time. They were both very happy and loving. Beau had welcomed his girlfriend into the family, to which they welcomed with open arms.

The relationship lasted for two years until they fell out of love. The spark was gone. Their breakup wasn't nasty - they awkwardly stated that they lost that romantic spark on both sides. Beau had turned thirteen at the time. Beau and his ex-lover are on good terms to this day.

Once puberty hit, Beau looked at the body he had at the moment. He didn't quite fit with how it was. It made him feel like he didn't fit in a girl's body. He wanted to cut off his developing melons. So, he decided to talk to Faye later that evening, whom had fully transitioned. She was a beautiful woman. As he talked to her about what had been up, Faye stated that Beau could be Transgender, and even gave him a few articles on Gender Dysphoria.

Weeks of looking into gender identities later, Beau took the label "Trans Male" and used it to describe himself. With encouragement from Faye, he came out to his parents, who accepted him. He didn't want to transition as quickly as Faye, and wanted to take it slow. Testosterone and binding first.

As he grew older, Beau got bullied for being a Transgender Bisexual man. He was experiencing Transphobia from a few of his fellow peers. He knew that not everyone would accept him for being who he was, but this hurt quite a bit. Being bullied for this wasn't fair - he had every right to express himself! - but nooo, people were idiots.

His love for writing had grown more and more over the years. He began to write little stories that he presented in school and posted online. People loved his little stories. Whether they were fanfiction or characters and universes he had created in his head, they received a lot of positive feedback. Sure, there were haters, bullies, trolls, and rude people in general, but Beau didn't pay attention to them too much.

Beau had gotten top surgery when he was fifteen. He had been on testosterone for a year, and he had been binding for that time being. He loved his new, flat chest. Sure, he would have a scar on his chest from the surgery, but it didn't really bother him. He was happy that his tibbies were deleted. Now he could feel like a guy somewhat.

During the time passed from fourteen and fifteen years old, Beau had been watching a show known as "Total Drama" with Faye. The show was appealing to the young teen. The risky challenges were entertaining, most of the cast was likable, and it was really entertaining for the young boy. He'd talk about joining the show every now and then and would think about what his label or cliche would be on the show.

Timeskip to now, Beau and Faye are sixteen and seventeen respectively. After watching an ad to audition for the next season of Total Drama, Faye looked over at her little brother.

"Hey... You should audition to be on there!"

Beau, liking the idea, auditioned for the show. Once his audition was seen, Beau was invited to be on a season of Total Drama.

『 Voice Claim 』

『 Miscellaneous Facts』

➵ Theme Song

➵ Quotes

"O-Oh, hello...!"

"I'm Beau. It's nice to meet you!"

"It's too people-y in there. I-I'd like to stay right here."

"He's... Kinda pretty."

"Are you lonely? I could hang out with you if you'd like."

"I-It's not a diary! It's just a journal that I put my writing and ideas in."

"Sorry, I'd rather be by myself. I-It's nothing personal -- I j-just don't like large groups of people."

"Sorry... I'm rambling again, aren't I? Sorry about that..."

"He's a... He's a man. And I'm just a boy."

"Ciao, bello..!" (Hello, handsome..!)

"Aren't you guys a little too old for a bedtime story?"

"Fine, fine. Once upon a time, there were a few guys on an island who needed to go the fuck to sleep. G'night, guys."

"What do you mean that 'isn't a good bedtime story? I think it's a brilliant story."

"Fine... There was once this God named Fóllame de lado-"

"Hey - do you wanna fuck around with the others?"

"H-Hey! I apologize for interrupting what you were doing, but... I'd like to confess something if that's o-okay? Look, I'll cut to the chase. I... love you, dude. And not in some bromance way. Like... I have romantic feelings for you. I love you so much I could scream it to the world..! I hope you f-feel the same way. And if you don't? That's p-perfectly fine."

"Good morning, mio amore."

"Sorry, but could you like, shut up for five seconds? Thanks..."

➵ Ship Names (OC X Crush or OC X OC)

Duncan x Beau = BeauDun/ BeauCan

DJ x Beau = BJ / BeauJ

Alejandro x Beau = AleBeau

Mike x Beau = Meau/Bike

Lightning x Beau = Blightning/BeauLight

Topher x Beau = Beaupher / Beaupher

Shawn x Beau = Sheau / Bawn

➵ Random Facts

• If they're comfortable, Beau calls his male friends "Bello" (Handsome), and his female friends "Bella" (Beautiful).

For Nonbinary folk, it depends on what they prefer.

•Beau has learned how to play the ukelele from Faye.

•He would actually like to go windsurfing sometime!

• Speaking of his sister, she's a well-known acrobat/performer for her age. He admires her for being so talented in such a thing..

• His sister is an extrovert, and more outgoing than Beau. The two are opposites,,but yknow, opposites attract!

•Beau prefers to write stories that are/include horror, action, and supernatural/fantasy. He can write romantic stories, but he doesn't prefer writing things like that.

•He has written some shitty fanfictions when he was younger. He will share them among his friends and laugh at what he wrote.

•The languages he speaks are:

• English

•Italian

• (Some) Spanish. [Italian and Spanish are similar language-wise in a few ways. That, and Beau just wanted to learn Spanish.]

• Respectful boi when it comes to Pronouns, Names, People's likes and dislikes, etc.

•Beau has some family members that live in Italy. He has gone to Italy to visit them numerous times.

• Beau doesn't believe in soulmates. He thinks that it's just some fairytale thing that people believe in. He wants to love someone on his own accord - not someone who the universe was like "Oh, let's put these people together.".

♫♪.ılılıll|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|llılılı.♫♪

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

[pixie88]

Rory Bear

A/N: Those who play Lovelink know Rory O’Brien. He recently when grey on me, I miss him so decided to do a FF especially for him! He is one hot dad, who looks like Chris Evans. This might be a one shot piece or I might continue I’m not sure yet.  Let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged!

Find my other Rory O’Brien FF HERE on my masterlist under Lovelink - One shots.

Comments always welcome!

Word count: 2317

WARNINGS: ⚠️ NSFW & Fluffy fluff

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Lovelink.

Pairings: Rory x MC - Laila

Enjoy!

It's been two days since I've heard from Rory while he was washing his car. I don't want to bother him, I know he's busy with work and Amy. So, I get dressed and take Winnie for a walk. It's a sunny winter's day, we spend an hour in the park playing fetch before I grab a hot chocolate from the food van in the park.

We are nearly home when I hear my phone, I pull it out of my bag and the screen lights up.

*Lovelink - Rory has sent you a message*

[Hi Laila, How are you? I was thinking about our last conversation and I have my answer, but I want to tell you in person.]

I reply once I get inside.

[Hey Rory, I'm fab thanks you? How is Amy? Oh ok, I'm glad you've have come to a conclusion.]

[I'm not great tbh. Amy is fine, she has an art show at school tomorrow night.]

[Oh no, what's wrong? Aww, bless her! Has she made an art piece?]

[I've missed you! I was thinking would you be up for coming? My mom and dad will be there too. So, I understand if it's too much too soon. Yeah, she's done a drawing of you.]

[I can't say I haven't missed you. Oh, are you sure you want me to be there if your parents are? Is this your way of getting me to the art show? Because it's working.]

[Yes, I want you there and so does Amy after you helped her at her dance recital she wanted to do something to say thank you. If it means you'll come then yes haha.]

[Fine, I'll come, but only because I'm curious about this drawing. Plus, I want to see you and Amy! What time does it start?]

[Thank you so much Amy will be so pleased about you coming! It starts at 6 pm but I can come and pick you up at about 5.30 pm?]

[Just Amy? Ok, 5.30 is great. Can't wait to see you both]

[I'm super excited to see you too! Great, I'll see you then.]

(He wants me to meet his parents? Does that mean he's ready to move on? I guess I'll find out tomorrow)

~*~*~*~

The next day I drop Winnie round to my neighbours house. I'm just finishing up. I decided on a blue blouse undone slightly and black jeans with knee-high boots.

Ding Dong!

He's here! I open the door, Rory smiles "Laila, you look beautiful!"

"Thank you! You look handsome yourself. Ready to go?" I ask.

"Aww, thanks. Yeah, Amy is in the car"

"Great, let's go!" We walk over to the car and Amy smiles brightly at me as we approached the car.

Rory opens the door for me "Such a gentleman"

He smiles "Only the best for you" 

He seems different from the past two dates lighter and more confident. He closes the door.

"Hey, Amy how are you?"

"I'm ok thanks. Are you?"

Rory gets into the car.

"I'm great thanks Amy" Rory starts the engine. It's not long before we arrive at the school.

When we get inside, Rory waves at an elderly couple I'm guessing are his parents. They make their way over to us "Rory, Amy and who might this be" the elderly lady says.

"Mom, Dad this is Laila. She's my date, Laila and Laila this is my mother Philippa and my father, Albert"

"Hi, nice to meet you both!"

"Rory you didn't tell us you were dating again! I'm so happy for you" Philippa says.

"She's beautiful too," Albert says.

"She is," Rory gives me a look that sends butterfly's through my body.

I smile.

"Laila, come on I want to show you my drawing!"

Amy grabs my hand and leads me to her drawing "Amy, this is beautiful!"

"I added Dad on to it. The love heart is you two falling in love"

"Oh wow! What's the rainbow for?"

She smiles "Nothing, I just wanted to add a rainbow"

"Oh ok! Well, it's better than any rainbow I have ever drawn!" We laugh as Rory and his parents appear behind us.

"Do you like it, Daddy?"

"Amy it's amazing, but I thought you said it was a drawing of Laila?"

"It is! There is Laila and there is you and that is you falling in love!" Rory blushes.

We look round at all the other art pieces Rory comes up behind me as I'm looking at a paper mache volcano. I feel his breath on the back of my neck "Are you ok?"

I turn "Hey, Yeah I'm fine you?"

"Laila, I'm sorry about Amy's picture"

"It's cute," I smile at him.

"Well, we have 5 minutes to ourselves can we talk?" he asks.

"Sure"

"On our last date you said you didn't think I was ready to move on," he says.

"I did and I also said you needed to think about what you wanted"

"Yes, you did," he says.

"So, Rory have you figured it out?"

"I did...Laila, I've had a long hard think about it and I'm ready! My walls are coming down for you!" He gives me a cheeky grin.

"Are you sure? I don't want to push you into something you aren't ready for!"

"Laila, I'm one hundred percent positive" His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me in tight.

I giggle "Rory!" I wrap my arms around him "You're like a bear! Rory bear!"

He laughs "Is that my new pet name?"

"It will be!" I laugh.

We de-tangle ourselves from each other Amy runs over excited "Laila, Daddy come on they're announcing the winners" she drags us over to where her teacher is on stage.

"Evening, parents and students I am proud to announce the winners from Falcon class. Third place goes to Isla Johnson. Well done Isla!"

We clap little Isla as she steps on stage to accept her award.

"Second place goes to Amy O'Brien, Well done Amy!"

Amy's face lights up as she turns to us "Yes! I got second place!!"

"Well done Amy!" Rory beams at her.

"Go claim your award! Amy!" Albert tells her.

She runs on stage and accepts her award. She comes back off stage, and we don't even hear who wins first place.

"This calls for a celebration! Why don't Grandad and I take you out for dinner sweetpea?" Philippa asks.

"Yes, please!" she turns to Rory.

"Daddy, can I go? Please?" Amy asks.

"Aren't Laila and I invited?"

She laughs "Daddy, you and Laila should have some time together!"

"Yeah, we'll watch Amy for a few hours. You two go and enjoy yourselves" Albert offers.

Rory looks at me with a look I have never seen from him before "Are you sure?" he asks.

"Of course! We love any chance to spoil our grandchild" Philippa says.

"Ok, but make sure you behave for Nanna and Grandad. OK?"

Amy smiles "Deal! Bye, Daddy!"

"Bye, sweetheart!"

Amy takes her grandparents' hands and leads them toward the exit.

Rory turns to me "Do you want to come back to mine? I could cook us dinner?"

"Ok, sounds perfect!"

We make our way to his car, and he opens the door for me "Thank you!"

He winks, closes the door, and gets into the driver's seat "Amy likes you"

I smile at him "She's a lovely kid! You did a brilliant job!"

He blushes "Thank you, Laila. You know when her Mom died, I thought how am I going to do this by myself and get it right?"

I take his hand "Well, you smashed it!"

He lifts my hand to his lips and places a small kiss against my knuckles.

10 minutes later we pull up to his house, he comes round to my side of the car and opens the door "You know I will expect you to open every door I go to walk through now" I laugh.

"It would be my pleasure!" He winks. He takes my hand and entwines his fingers through mine as he leads me to the house.

He unlocks the door and I step inside with Rory close behind as soon as the door shuts, he presses me against the wall his lips claim mine.

His kiss is full of passion, want, and desire. I'm pressed against the hard wall and his muscular body. I wrap my arms around him, his hands come under my thighs, and he lifts me up.

He starts grinding against my core "Rory" I feel he's stiff against me.

He moves us away from the wall, his lips never leaving mine. He guides us upstairs, kicks open a door and we fall onto his bed. He pulls away a little "Laila, I want you! I'm ready"

I giggle, "I kinda figured that"

His eyes are alight with desire "If you don't want this..."

I cut him off, he gets the hint. He moves from my lips and down to my neck and back up to my ear, his lips brush against it "You're so beautiful!" his hands start to unbutton my blouse his lips feather kisses against my chest.

I push off his suit jacket, pull his sweater vest up over his head and I grab his tie and pull him down towards my lips. He groans as his hand dips into my jeans, he brushes against me and I can't help arch off the bed. I yank his tie off and begin to unbutton his shirt.

I become breathless at the sight of his toned body. I flip us, crash my lips to his and work my way down his breathing shudders as I pepper kiss over his chest down to his abs "Laila!" I unbuckle his belt and he shifts helping me get him out of them.

I trail kisses up his inner thigh I pull him free of his boxers. He's hard I take him in my hand and circle around the tip he bucks up "Ah, ah, ah! Rory bear!"

He hisses in frustration "Christ...Laila!"

I work my mouth against him. His hand tangles into my hair moving me to his rhythm.

"Laila, you have to stop," he pulls me up onto the bed next to him, he moves to hover over me. He pulls off my boots and jeans in one swift manner.

His tongue invades my mouth, his taste still lingering there. His lips kiss along my purse line, my collarbone to my breast he unclips my bra and tosses it to the floor.

His lips cover my nipple "Crap Rory!" He moves to my tummy nipping as he goes definitely hard enough to leave bite marks. His hands pull at the waistband of my underwear until they are gone. He pulls a silver packet out of the bedside cabinet draw.

"Laila, it's been a while so I might be a little rusty" he lifts my legs his mouth finds my centre.

He moves my folds apart with his tongue I cry out unable to hold back a moan "Rory bear, you definitely have......not forgot how to do that!" I clutch his hair and move my hips wanting more.

He works against my clit "Nice to know I haven't lost my touch!" He doubles his efforts I'm barely holding on!

I pull him up to my lips he pulls away enough our lips aren't touching, but his forehead is against mine "Laila, are you sure this is what you want? Me? Everything that comes with me?"

"Yes! I want all of you!" This is all he needs to hear.

He rips the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on. He brushes his stiffened member against me and pushes past my entrance filling me. His lips forcefully captures mine, he groans. Each thrust he draws out slowly then thrust back fast and hard, I can't get enough of him!

My nails dig into his back, he hisses "God Laila!" His lips move to my pulse line every nerve ending feels electrified with each thrust, touch, kiss I can barely hold back a moan. I flip us both to his surprise "Whoa!" He screams.

"I need a bit of control too!" I start to move my hips riding him.

"By all....means I'm.....willing to....let....you take ohh god....the reins!" He struggles to get his words out.

His hands grasp my hips, and he bucks to match my rhythm "Ooooh Rory bear!"

He smirks "You know I love....this neeew pet name!" He groans.

He sits up placing his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me to his lips. He catches my lip between his teeth as he pulls me tight against his bare chest, "I can't..."

His lips brush against my ear "Let go, Laila! I'm barely holding on myself!" This is all it takes to send me falling over the edge. Rory shudders as he finds his own climax.

We are both panting barely catching our breath. He smiles up at me "Laila, that was...wow just wow!"

I smile "It was amazing!"

He pulls me into a soft kiss we are interrupted by the sound of his phone.

I collapse onto the bed next to him while he reaches for it. He reads the message "Everything OK?" I ask.

He turns to me with a cheeky smile "Just my Mom, she's going to have Amy for the night!"

"Oh?"

He lay next to me "You know what that means?" He smirks.

I try to hide a smile (I know exactly what it means by the smile on his face) "What does it mean?"

"Round 2" he pulls me onto him.

"HEY! You promised to cook me dinner!"

He smirks "We'll order in...After!"

He starts laying kisses along my pulse line, and we get lost in each other embrace again.

I’m tagging you because I know your a Lovelink fan lovely @khoicesbyk​

[celosiaa]

Submission by @entitynumber5: Hi Connor, I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL birthday and that you get to take a break from studying to do the things you enjoy and just have the lovely day you deserve!!! For this morning’s “write what I like” sprint (trying a new method of getting it all out before I have to put the brain into study mode), I wrote a lil something about 🎃 spooky season birthdays 🎃set in the Emmaverse… which turned out kind of long and a bit sappy. So there is no pressure to read it! I just love these characters :’) the working title is “Martin and Jon get proven wrong by an adorable five year old”.

Content warnings: brief mentions of blood, alcohol and minor injury (in relation to Martin working a Halloween paramedic shift); food.

Emma is obsessed with birthdays. Just not her own.

She turned five in May, and no matter how special they tried to make the day—with rainbow layer cake and carefully-selected presents and a visit to the roller-skating rink with her best friends—she didn’t seem half as excited as when it was someone else’s birthday. She would hardly sleep the night before friends’ parties. She spent hours wrapping the presents she picked for them with ribbons and bows and even confetti stuffed inside the paper. The only time they could encourage her to practice the piano for her weekly lessons was when she played the Happy Birthday song over FaceTime for her friends’ birthdays that were during school holidays.

The only thing Emma seems to have held onto from her own birthday is the notebook given to her Georgie and Melanie. Martin seems to remember there being two: one with little cartoon ghost drawn in the front by Georgie and the other with a scribble of the Admiral by Melanie. But Emma only carries the one around with her everywhere, and Martin is starting to doubt his own memory about there being a duplicate.

She has it with her now, as they sit outside the lecture theatre where Jon is currently teaching. In the too-big chair beside the door, her legs swing as she holds the notebook very close, staring intently at its pages while she wriggles her fluffy purple pen in thought.

“Daddy,” Emma says, in that voice that means she has a Very Serious Question, “When is your birthday?”

Martin is still a little dazed from nearly a week of night shifts. It’s the first time in six days that he hasn’t been working or sleeping at this time in the afternoon, and while walking with Emma to Jon’s work to surprise him at the end of the day seemed like a nice idea in practice, he really wishes he was lying on the sofa. They could be watching Peppa Pig for the thousandth time. Or getting started on dinner, which he isn’t going to let Jon make after a long day of teaching. He’s been mentally calculating how many hours it is until he can go to bed, how many tasks he has to do before then.

This feels like a selfish thought, though, and he pushes it aside quickly in favour of smiling at Emma. “My birthday?”

“Yes,” Emma replies, still very grave, “That’s what I said. At school today, Miss Jones made us all put stickers on the big calendar on the wall for our birthdays. I wrote down all of my friends’ birthdays.”

“That’s nice.”

“And now I want to write down yours.”

“Okay, well, my birthday is next month.”

Emma frowns. “Next month. That’s…” she counts on her fingers until she seems to reach the answer she’s looking for. “October?”

“It is!” Martin grins. “Well done.”

Emma’s little frown doesn’t ease. “What day?”

“Well, do you know how many days are in October?”

Emma thinks. Shakes her head.

“There are thirty-one days in October,” Martin tells Emma, “And my birthday is on the very last day.”

Emma nods and returns to her notebook, slowly enunciating the words as she writes them down: “Oc-to-ber three-one.”

Martin wonders if Emma realises his birthday coincides with Halloween. Besides birthdays, she still doesn’t seem too interested in dates, no matter how many times her teacher makes her write them at the top of every page in her workbook. And during previous years, they celebrated Martin’s birthday the day before or after Halloween itself, so they can separate the two events, although perhaps she doesn’t remember.

Before Martin can ask, the door of the lecture theatre opens and students start filing out. Emma puts away her notebook and pen, her frown of concentration replaced by a glowing smile as she waits, bouncing excitedly in the chair, for her Baba to notice them waiting just outside.

*

“Jon,” Martin whisper-shouts as he tiptoes into the house after his shift, hoping he doesn’t wake Emma—but that his husband knows it’s urgent. “Jon, Jon, Jon.”

Jon emerges from the kitchen, wearing a pair of yellow washing up gloves dripping soap suds and a look of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Martin ushers him back into the kitchen and shuts the door as quietly as possible, hoping it won’t wake Emma—or, worse yet, the cats, who will sit outside any closed door and cry to be let inside no matter what activity they were engaged in before.

“Martin,” Jon says, “What’s going on?”

“They just released the shifts for the next few weeks,” Martin replies, “And I’m working.”

“Well, good. I should hope so.”

“On my birthday.”

Jon’s expression merges into one of comprehension: Emma. And her newfound obsession with birthdays. “Ah.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could swap shifts with someone?” Jon asks.

Martin sits down at the table, lowering his head into his hands. He wants to shower, change out of his paramedic uniform, but he knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else until they’ve had this conversation. “No one’s going to willingly take a Halloween shift. For a start, Andrew is terrified of clowns. And people are usually drunk, and it’s actually really hard to tell the difference between real and fake blood.”

“We could celebrate the day after,” Jon says, taking off the washing up gloves and sitting opposite Martin. He reaches across the table to take Martin’s hand. “I mean, you were born five minutes before midnight. It wouldn’t be a lie so much as a… slight shifting of the truth.”

“Jonathan Sims.” Martin gapes across the table at him. “Are you suggesting we lie to our daughter?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, Martin,” Jon says again, “I’m simply suggesting we separate your birthday from Halloween, as we have done every year, and not draw attention to the fact because our daughter is currently obsessed with other peoples’ birthdays.”

“And it might upset her if she knew we were actually celebrating on the wrong day.”

“Exactly.”

Martin sighs. “I don’t know. It feels… sort of wrong.”

“Apparently, children under the age of seven have no concept of the passing of time and—”

“Did Tim tell you that?”

“No.”

“Oh, god. It wasn’t Helen, was it? Please tell me you haven’t been having philosophical discussions about parenting with Helen again.”

“Martin,” Jon interrupts, “It was in the parenting book you gave me.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that chapter. Oh, god, maybe I should re-read it. The whole thing. Beginning to end. I—”

“Martin.” Jon squeezes his hand. “You deserve a day of your own. Tim and Sasha already agreed to take Emma trick-or-treating on Halloween. She will be focused on that for most of the day; she’s already talking about how excited she is. Let us spend the day after that treating you to all the wonderful things you deserve on your birthday—and every day.”

Martin manages a small smile, although every instinct inside of him is telling him not to accept Jon’s proposal. Not because he is worried about the ethics of manipulating their daughter’s concept of time—although this is a concern, too—but because he doesn’t want Jon to feel like he has to do any of this. To make a whole day about him, even if he takes great pleasure and care in doing the same for Jon on his birthday.

“Thanks, Jon,” Martin murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, why don’t you go and have a warm shower? I’ve put the hot water on so it shouldn’t run out while you’re in there this time.”

Martin smirks. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Martin presses, teasing now. “Because I did have to treat a farmer who’d been kicked by one of his cows this evening.”

“Okay, alright, yes. Yes, you smell. Please go and have a shower.”

Martin laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“That really is disgusting, Martin.”

“It’s actually a pretty funny story. About the farmer, I mean. He’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell you about it when I’m out of the shower.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why today, of all days, have you abandoned the notion of showering before you sit down at the dinner table?”

“I had something important to tell you!”

“Fine. Alright.” Jon shakes his head again. “Now please have a shower. For your sake as much as mine.”

“Love you,” Martin sing-songs as he exits the kitchen. He hears Jon’s gentle laugh chase him into the warmth of the bathroom, where Jon has put on the radiator and left him a fresh towel. He smiles, feeling his love for Jon balloon in his chest, and settles into the sensation being home.

*

Martin’s Halloween—and birthday—shift is so busy that he barely has time to check his phone. Tim has sent an album of photos of him, Sasha and Emma out trick-or-treating, dressed as Mike, Sulley and Boo from Monsters, Inc. Jon has been updating him on the number of trick-or-treaters who have visited their house (fifty-four, as of ten thirty p.m.), and how Iris and the cats are holding up with the constant ringing of the doorbell.

On his break, Martin quickly texts Tim to watch his glucose levels and not to forget his insulin (to which Tim replies yes, sir with a number of yellow heart emojis). He also texts Sasha to say she can take home any of the Skittles they get on their expedition, since they’re her favourite but Emma hates them. He tells Jon he loves him and to give Iris a pet on his behalf and that there’s some spare sweets under the sink, if they’re running low. Then it’s back to work.

The shift passes quickly, in the end. There is so much to do and no time to think about anything other than their patients. He does get given a toffee apple by someone dressed as a Minion at a student house party, and he narrowly avoids getting his face painted by twins who are the same age as Emma while his team are checking their mother’s twisted ankle after a fall trying to get to the door in time for a last-minute delivery of sweets. It’s not an awful shift, but it is, like always, exhausting and difficult in the same measure as it’s rewarding and hopeful.

By the time he gets home, all he wants to do is sleep. Emma is tucked into bed, fast asleep, while her nightlight projects solar systems onto the ceiling. Jon, too, is sleeping soundly with the cats for company. Iris barely looks up from her bed when he comes inside, but she gives a little wag of her tail each time he passes down the hallway to shower or get a drink of water. There’s a plastic pumpkin full of Emma’s sweets on the table, next to the empty bowl that had once been full of treats to hand out to their visitors.

Martin’s smiles—it looks like a night well-spent for his family—and this thought carries him through an exhausted shower before he crawls into bed next to Jon. Jon must be tired, too, because he doesn’t stir. Martin makes a mental note to check his joints aren’t playing up from all the getting up and down from the sofa during the trick-or-treat visits.

Sometime later, Martin wakes to the soft click of the door as it opens. He squints against the light bursting around the edges of the still-shut curtains, expecting to see Jon tiptoeing to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Instead, Emma is creeping inside, holding a tray of pancakes while Jon follows behind, balancing two cups of tea.

“Happy birthday!” Emma says, as she places the tray down on the bed next to Martin. “We made spooky pancakes!”

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up fully. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed: 11:42 a.m. He’s been asleep for just over six hours, but it somehow feels longer and yet not enough. “It’s not—”

Jon clears his throat.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Emma! These are wonderful.”

The pancakes are, indeed, spooky. Emma has used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape them and then drawn on funny faces with fruit and syrup. No longer responsible for balancing the tray, Emma looks at Jon, a little uncertain, and Jon nods in encouragement as he places their cups of tea down on the bedside table.

“I made you a present,” Emma says almost shyly.

Martin smiles gently at her. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma pulls something off the tray. It’s the second notebook, the one Martin thought he’d imagined, wrapped in a glittery silver ribbon and some confetti streamers. She offers it to Martin, and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might fall apart in his hands.

“You can open it,” Emma tells him seriously.

Martin unwraps the ribbon. Emma takes it from him, along with the confetti, perhaps to reuse for another present. Slowly, Martin cracks open the notebook to the first page. There is Georgie’s ghoulish sketch, alongside a new inscription in Emma’s handwriting: Sorted Poems By Emma K. Blackwood-Sims. For Daddy’s Birthday. October 31.

Martin feels something tender and soft unfurl in his chest, until he’s certain he is going to cry. He begins to flick through the pages, but Emma says: “Wait!”

Martin stops. “What is it?”

“Look.” Emma climbs on to the bed, elbowing her way into the space next to him, and reaches across Martin to open the notebook on the first page again, where her inscription is. She points at her name.

“It’s meant to say assorted poems,” Jon says, “But neither of us were sure how to spell it.”

Martin laughs, the sound a little wet and shaky with the tears he can feel building. Jon hates spelling. It’s his least favourite type of homework to help Emma with.

“Look,” Emma says again, “I wrote my name like yours!”

Martin smiles. “Blackwood-Sims? But that’s your name, too.”

“No,” Emma insists, “Emma K Blackwood-Sims. Like you! Like a proper poet.”

“Oh,” Martin murmurs, “Oh.”

He’s sure he and Jon will laugh about this later. Martin doesn’t actually have a middle name. Emma does, but it certainly doesn’t begin with K. But right now, he feels tears on his cheeks as he takes in his daughter’s hard work.

Emma reaches for his face, patting away his tears with the palms of her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Martin replies, sniffling in an attempt to draw back the tears, “I’m happy. And I love you so, so much.”

Emma frowns. “Will pancakes make you feel better?”

“I’m alright, Emma. I promise. These are happy tears.”

“Pancakes always make me feel better,” Jon announces, climbing onto the other side of the bed and sliding back underneath the covers. He settles Emma down in the middle of them, handing her a mug full of juice. She doesn’t drink tea yet, but she doesn’t like to be left out when they do, so she has her own mug.

“These look wonderful,” Martin tells them, arranging the tray so they can all reach. Emma takes a plate and hands it to Jon, then does the same for Martin, before grabbing the final one for herself. “You’re getting very good at pancakes.”

“Baba said we can learn French toast next,” Emma says.

“Wow. That’s big.”

Emma nods. “It’s more difficult than normal toast.”

Martin chuckles. “It certainly is.”

They distribute the pumpkin-shaped pancakes between them. While they eat in bed, they tell each other stories about their Halloween night. Jon talks about the costumes of the people who visited their house, how many compliments they got on their pumpkin carving skills. Emma narrates her trick-or-treating adventure with Tim and Sasha. Martin shares the safest tales of his nightshift, the funny costumes he saw and the extravagant decorations at the parties they visited.

Martin is exhausted again by the time they’ve finished the pancakes. Jon insists on taking their empty plates back to the kitchen and making them another cup of tea, while Emma snuggles against Martin’s side. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not your birthday, Daddy,” Emma whispers.

Half-asleep until now, Martin grunts himself awake. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I know it’s not really your birthday,” Emma tells him, not moving from where she’s clinging to his arm, “Your birthday was yesterday. On Halloween.”

“Oh, Emma, we—”

“It’s okay,” Emma says, “It’s like when we had a party on Saturday even though my birthday was on Wednesday because I had school.”

“Yeah.” Martin stokes his hand through Emma’s hair. “It is a bit like that.”

“I still get to say happy birthday.”

“You do.”

“But can we have a party on the right day next year?” Emma asks.

“For your birthday?”

“No, for your birthday.”

“Oh.” Martin laughs. “Yes. It might not be a party, if I have to work again, but we can do this. This is lovely. Thank you for being so thoughtful. And I’m excited to read your poems.”

“Baba said they were good.”

“Well, that’s high praise indeed.”

“It was fun.”

“That’s good. That’s what matters most when you make things.“

Emma wriggles around until she’s grinning up at him. “Can I read your poems now?”

Martin sighs, barely supressing a laugh. This isn’t the first time she’s asked. “Emma.”

She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting in a way that breaks Martin’s heart to the point where he can never turn her down when she’s looking at him like this. “Please.”

“Alright,” Martin gives in, “I’ll read you one tonight. Before bed.”

“Yay!” Emma’s grin grows even wider. "Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And I love you very, very much.”

“Love you, too.”

They settle back down. Martin dozes a little again, a smile on his face, as he thinks about telling Jon later that their daughter very much does understand the concept of time. There really are some things parenting books don’t prepare you for—like the way his love seems to grow with each day he gets with Emma and Jon, even when he thinks it’s impossible, that he already loves them more than any person can.

Some things are gifts even when they are not given as such, and Martin is beginning to allow himself to think of his life with his daughter and his husband as one. He didn’t ask for it with words or lists. He doesn’t know, even now, if he deserves it. But it’s his. And he will treasure it always.

Not featured: Martin realising what he’s agreed to and frantically trying to find a non-angsty poem he can read to his five-year-old daughter. Jon thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

<3

[littlebitoffanfic]

Celebration

Fandom: The Collector/The Collection Character: Asa Emory – the collector Relationship: Asa Emory/reader Request: Since I have seen you do some slashers, can I request Asa from The Collector? Something sweet where the reader works with him and is an alibi and then saves him when Arkin comes for him in the collection?

  You knew him from your work although you didn’t know him well. Asa was a private man, reserved to his office and displays for the museum. You were tour guide with a hand in some of the office work. After all, the museum didn’t get an awful amount of funding to be able to employee more office workers. Today, you were happy. It was a sunny day, which meant people were less likely to come to the museum for an indoor activity. Your tours still ran ever 2 hours, but a smaller group had less questions and you could normally be done within an hour, leaving an hour free. You all but skipped down the halls like a school girl, your project held tightly in your arms as you stopped outside Dr Emory office. knocking three time, you waited for him. He towered over you, and had such a demanding presences that made you weak at the knees. Your crush on his was not unnoticed by your co-workers. 

“Good morning.” You smile, trying your best to work through the flutters in your chest. “Its 1.30.” he stated, his eyes unreadable. “Oh, well, good afternoon. Could I steal a few minutes of your time?” You ask, nearly slapping yourself in the face for your mistake. His eyes darted to the folder in your arms and he stepped aside, allowing you to enter. This was a privilege in itself. Barely anyone was allowed within his office. But Asa seemed to tolerate you more than the others. Perhaps because you were his neighbour. Now that had truly been a happy accident. His previous neighbour was selling and you were looking for somewhere when you moved here. It just so happened that your neighbour to your left was also a co-worker. Entering his office was like entering a new world. The walls were decorated with various bugs throughout different ages in their lives. Butterfly’s, beetles and roaches but the most prominent member of his displays were spiders. Your attention was drawn to a particular specimen. Pinned in a shadow box was a blue spider. The sign under called it a Cobalt Blue Tarantula. “Wow, those markings are fascinating.” You mumble aloud, more to yourself that to the mans whos office you were in. “Truly. The Cyriopagopus lividum.. native to the borders of Thailand.” Asa speaks so fondly of the dead creature that it makes you smile slightly. There was no denying his love for his work. “Are they venomous?” You ask, purely out of curiosity. “Yes, but the venom not strong enough to kill an adult human. Although its not pleasant.” Asa walks past you to his desk and drawing you from your thoughts. “Now, you wanted something?” “Yes, I was wondering if you might help me with an exhibition.” You hold out the folder to him as you sit at the other side of his desk. He takes it and opens it, showing a sort of mood board you had put together ranging from other exhibitions to enclosures to photo life-spans of certain creatures. “an exhibition?” His eyes flick up to meet your own with curiosity. In truth, you hated how under appreciated he was at the museum and his knowledge should be put to good use. “Yes, for insects. Of course, I’d do most of the work, but I’d really apricate someone who I can fact check with and can offer some insight.” You smile sweetly, and the small smile that pulled at Asa’s lips told you that he was in.

-------------time skip ------------------

Your time spend with the entomologist was one of the most pleasant and interesting interactions you had had in a while. Walking to his office, you held your papers in your hands. You were about to knock when you heard voices inside. Pressing your ear against the door, you listened. “Dr Emory, unless you can provide an alibi for your whereabouts on Saturday evening, we will have enough to arrest you under suspicious of connection with the collector killings.” A voice spoke with authority. Your heart stopped. The collector killings had fascinated you ever since they had come to light. And Asa, well, he was a private man. If they were threatening such a thing, there must be something behind it. And you wanted to know. The two men that seemed to cloud your thoughts could be one. Your mind thought quickly as you came up with a plan. Knocking on the door, you walked in without waiting – something you never really did. Once inside, you acted like a deer in headlights. Two men sat opposite Asa’s desk  in suits. “oh, sorry. Are you from the board?” You asked sincerely but you didn’t let them answer before quickly adding. “Look, Dr Emory and I are neighbours. Its perfectly reasonable for us to spend our evenings and weekends in each others company. Besides, if Tiffany told you about us, she has been having an affair with the janitor.” You could tell Asa was just as stunned as you were. One of the men smiled and stood. “You don’t need to be alarmed, miss. We are from the investigations team.” He then presented his ID badge to you. “Oh, gosh. I am so sorry.” You looked stunned, despite already knowing. “Its okay. But I am interested in what you said. Do you know where Dr Emory was on Saturday evening between 5pm and 11pm?” The man leaned back on Asa’s desk while the other twisted to fully look at you. “He was with me.” You said, talking to the two detectives. “At my house.” “with you? He said he was home alone.” The one with the strong jaw line narrowed his eyes at you. “Yes, well, its not against any policies, our director has been known to fire people for having… interpersonal relationships with colleagues. We’d agreed to keep it a secret. He would have been trying to protect me, in case this got out to the others.” You explain to them, not daring to look at Asa. You knew you were playing with fire here. But what you said wasn’t a stretch. The director had fired a member of the geology department… for sleeping with his wife in astrology. He really cared what staff did as long as they did their job. And didn’t fuck his wife.   “Is this true?” He asked Asa, who gave a single nod. “And is there anyone who can corroborate this?” The detective asked you, more kindly than the others. “Not really. As I said, it was a secret so I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us. Although, you can ask half the staff in this building and they’ll tell you that ive had a crush on the man since I moved here, and they know we have been spending more time together. They are so fond of teasing me for it anyway.” You manage to draw a chuckle from one as he jabbed the other detective in the shoulder which earned a smile. Apparently, there was a similar situation going on where they were. “Right, well, we’d better be on our way. We’ll be back in touch soon.” The one sitting rose to his feet, nodding to both you and Asa before he and his partner left. They left and the door had closed for a brief moment before you felt someone grab your arm and you were twisted to meet Asa. He didn’t say anything and his cheeks were slightly red, but his ears were bright red. “So, you are the collector?” You breathe, looking up at him with a small smile tugging on your lips. “What do you want?” He growled, his voice low and menacing. Oh, he wasn’t happy. “I want to know.” You breath, stepping closer to him. “You take parts, right? What do you do with them? Keep mementos? Are you making something?” His nostrils flares out, obviously angry. You understood. You had let yourself into his world, and he couldn’t do a thing about it. He couldn’t kill you because it would point the fingers back to him. No, it was smart to keep you close. He let out an exasperated sigh, reaching up and pinching his brow. “look, once this has blown over for you, I wont say a word. I don’t expect anything for it. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.” You reassured him. “Why?” His eyes narrow at you, but you shrug. “honestly, you fascinate me.” You confess to the man, even more intrigued than before. You saw the smirk that twitched at the side of his mouth.

----------------- time skip ------------

The world of the collector was one you never dreamed you would see inside, and you loved it. It took trust to get him to let you see. First you saw the inside of the hotels lobby, then some traps, then some of the beautiful creations he made, then his prize possession. you never participated, but you provided a bit more support for him, offering help from the side lines in exchange for information and his time. If he was suspicious of you, he couldn’t deny the genuine interest in your eyes as he spoke, or how you hung on every word of his. He seemed to love how you marvelled at everything with a child-like innocents. Wide eyes and a curious mind. He kept you very close, at work and in your personal lives. It took 5 months in total for the cops to ease up off of Asa, but they still occasionally found their way to his house, watching it. He would come to yours in those situations, still keeping the façade up that you were in some kind of relationship.   Not that you cared. You found that the two of you had a lot in common which made the time easily spent. Of course, his dogs loved you. When you came round to his, they were pawing at the floor to get to you but waited for their master to give them the signal to move. They really were puppies at heart. Also, sometimes you thought Asa just said they were there to spend time with you. Either way, you didn’t mind. Tonight, you were buried in a book when a harsh knock at your door made you jump but you hurried to answer it, finding a slightly wet Asa. You smiled, stepping aside and allowing him to step in. “You’d think the police budget within the millions by how much they come around.” You giggle, helping his jacket off his shoulders to hang up to dry. He hummed in response, wiping his face with a hand to try get the stray rain droplet off. “So, how was your recent game?” you asked as he followed you into the living room, where you had been reading. You collapsed back into the couch and held your book on your lap. “Uneventful. No one worthy to take.” He mused as he walked over to your book shelf and pulled out the book he had been reading last time. As he returned to your sofa to sit beside you – a show for the police outside – the book fell open to the page he had been reading. But instead of the paperclip he had been using to keep his place, it was a book mark. A novelty bookmark that you had swiped from the gift shop. It was one of those fake 3D ones, with spiders moving on green leaf’s. You raised your book over your mouth to hide your grin. “very amusing.” He soft chuckle left his lips as he placed it to the side. You giggled, moving to reposition yourself. Your sofa faced the TV which was to the right of the window. Meaning anyone who walked by outside could see in. but it was a quiet neighbourhood. Apart from the undercover police. You lay on the sofa, your legs draped over Asa’ lap which you rested your head on some pillows propped up against the arm rest. Asa rose the book without tearing his eyes away from it to allow your legs to move before lowering to rest his forearms on your knee and thighs. Despite being a bit of a play for the police, it began to feel a little more real. You would engage him in conversation through out the evening, and he would tear his attention away from the book to ask you about your day. In fact, you had started to think that Asa had missed this. With the police’s interest dwindling, so had his trips. Even your encounters in work were now limited as you had finished your exhibition. Or many it was just the part of you that had fallen so madly in love with the man that wished he wanted your company. Your eyes left the page to glance at his face. mature features with intelligent eyes. You hated how he could make your heart stop. Maybe this was fake to him, but it was so real to you. Turning your attention back to your book, you didn’t look up until the sun had fully set. Glancing at the clock, you were surprised to see it was nearly 10pm. “Gosh, I swear I’ll never get use to these changing sunsets. Every year it takes me by surprise.” You sit up, stretching as Asa chuckles. Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his cheek before lifting your legs off his lap to stand up. Asa followed, and you smiled when he marked his page with the bookmark you had gotten him. “You’re nearly finished. I told you it’s a page turner.” You nodded to the book, which he was nearly finished save for 50 pages. “Yes, all the more reason to come back.” He shot a look over his shoulder that made you smirk. Playful teasing had become something you adored in the man. It was another reason that made you doubt this was fake. They couldn’t hear what was happening, so why play around. Sliding the book back into the slot, he picked up the remote which had been forgotten on the sofa to go to the window and place it on the stand. A ploy for him to see if they were still watching the house. “I think you’re right. They get far too much funding. It could be going to the museum.” He mused as he turned back to you. Maybe they needed to see more. Or maybe you wanted more. Just to test the waters. Walking up to him, you reach up and placed your hands on his shoulders. “Kiss me?” You whisper to him, pressing your body against his own. Wide eyes met your own and you couldn’t help but giggle. “They can see through the window.” That was enough to encourage the man to duck down, pressing a kiss to your lips. he could have lightly kissed your lips and pulled away after a few moment, but he didn’t. In fact, you were sure he had forgotten all about the car outside. His arms wrapped around your waist and you were pulled tight against his strong chest as his lips fought your own for dominance which you quickly surrendered. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, making you moan as reach up and place your hand on the back of his head near his neck to keep his mouth to your own. Not like he was pulling away any time soon. you felt him push you backwards and you allowed him to push you till your back hit the wall and he pinned you to it. they couldn’t see you anymore, but you didn’t care. Raising your right leg, you hooked it around his hip as his hand trailed down your side and followed the curve to your thigh, holding you in that position. He was driving you crazy, his touch was like fire as you cling to him. When he does pull back, you are left a panting mess with rosy cheek. But his tell was his red ears despite the smirk on his lips. “So, tell me, where does the line between fake and real stop?” he asks, keeping his face close to your own. “With a kiss like that.” You bite your lower lip, completely aware of how his hand had kept your leg hooked on his hip. “The police aren’t outside. They left over an hour ago.” Asa’s voice was low, barely about a whisper. “They did?” You raise your eye brows at him. A nod answers your question and you were left pondering your next move. “Good.” As leans down, sealing his lips over your own.

 -----time skip ------

 You were sitting in your living room, half heartedly flicking through the channel when you notice Asa’ car drive past your window. Smiling, you turn off the TV and grab your small bag. It was a Friday, which meant that Asa worked late. But it also meant you would be staying over with him. A few weeks ago, shit had really hit the fan. You really didn’t know what happened, expect that the hotel was burned to the ground, and Asa only just escaped with his life. He was badly hurt, and you were thankful that he had taken a week off for holidays. It had been holidays he was going to spend with you in his cabin up north, but plans changed. You stayed by his side during his recovery. Asa had lost nearly everything that night. His creations, his sanctuary, his dogs, his prizes. But he had been thankful to come home to you. He had extended his own holiday but you returned to work the next week. He said he had fallen while on a hike so no one questioned his cuts and bruising when he did go back. You took your bag and left your home for the evening, locking it up as you set to go to Asa. He had regained most of his energy and health back, which you were hoping he might be up for something a little more… activity related tonight. The lingerie in your bag certainly hoped so. he was already out the car and into the house as you walked up. But something caught your eye. In his living room, there was someone hiding in the corner. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognised the man. His name was Arkin. He had been the one who had escaped Asa, the one who caused his injuries. You only recognised him because Asa had pointed him out when the new came on one evening. And you highly doubted that he was here to say a friendly hello. Running around the back, you ducked under the window so as not to be seen. You ditched your bag in a bush as you made your way to the back door just as you heard heavy metal music blare through the house. You wanted to scream to Asa, but the glint you had seen in Arkins hands wasn’t enough to tell you if it was a gun or a knife. Slipping into his kitchen, you heard the music being turned off and then silence. You took a large knife from the knife block on the counter and held it as if to stab. And you were willing to. Then you slowly opened the bottom draw, which had some duct tape in it. You round the edge, only slightly pulling it off. If you were going to hurt someone, they cant make a lot of sound. You moved into the hallway which connected to the living room and dinning room. “All those insects. You’re quite the collector.” A voice, Arkins voice spoke, making you pause as you made sure no one knew you were here. “In a 200 mile radios from where we last saw each other, there are 14 licensed entomologists. You were number 12.” As Arkin spoke, you moved slowly down the hallway, looking behind you ever second in case someone else was here. “Your daddy ran a museum, didn’t he? Fucked you up real good.” His words made you feel sick. Asa never spoke of his father. His mother was held with high regard, and he said he wanted you to meet her when she was next in town. But he had shut off when you asked about his father. Arkin was right. “Turn around.” You pressed your back against the wall as you inched closer to the doorway. Tape in your left hand, the edge taped to your finger, and the knife in the other. You could see from the glass display cabinet that Asa and Arkin were standing face to face near the entrance to the dinning room. Arking had his back to you. And a gun raised at Asa’ face. Fear rushed through you as the analogy of ‘don’t bring a knife to a gun fight’ flooded your mind. “Are you here to kill me?” Asa spoke with a calmness you couldn’t fathom. “No. that would be too nice. First im gonna make sure feel everything that I felt. Then im gonna kill you.” You could hear the smugness in his voice. “So that you can never hurt anyone-“ He was cut off as Asa lunged at him. But Arkin gave a swift jab to the face, causing him to tumble back. Into a red box. Your gasp was covered as Arkin flipped the box and started slamming the lid shut again and again, growling “fuck you.”  Before the lack closed. he stepped back, gasping for air. He thought he was alone. Darting into the room, you raise the knie and bought it down into his right shoulder and an angle. He instantly dropped the gun. Letting go of the knife for a moment, you grabbed the roll of tape and started wrapping it round and round his mouth. He had only just managed to let out a cry of pain as his legs gave way under him. He reached up, struggling so you grabbed the knife and pulled it from the flesh. Using the sharp, bloodstained blade, you cut the tape and he collapsed to the ground moaning. You gave him a quick kick in the face before kicked the gun that had fallen out of reach. The last thing you needed was neighbours calling the police for gunfire at the house. You raced over to the box. “Asa, its me.” You reassured him through the small walls in case he tried to attack whoever opened the box. When you pulled the lid open, he scrambled to his feet, the anger in his eyes blazing as he found his attacker on the floor. Arkin was groaning, unable to move just yet but you were sure he’d be up and about soon enough. “Your hands.” You whispered, reaching out and taking his right hand which was covered in blood from Arkin slamming the box down. Your heart broke. He had not long healed. Arkin began to come around, his eyes darting between the two of you as he realized what had happened. He looked at you with an unimaginable about of rage and anger in his eyes as he tried to scream. Asa darted forward, twisting him around and pinning him to the ground, a knee in his back and his hand pressing on the new wound. “The tape.” He commanded of you, and you immediately grabbed the duct tape which had rolled away slightly. Finding the end, you saw Asa grabbing Arkins left hand and you mirrored with his right. Bringing them forcefully behind his back, you taped them in place, then went to tape his ankles together. Once satisfied, Asa hauled the man off the ground and threw him into the box, the lid closing over with the force. Asa flipped the latch. Looking him inside. You didn’t realise you were panting and shaking until Asa was looking at you. Racing forward, you wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face in his chest. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He ask, holding him as tightly as you could. A bloody hand stroked your cheek as another rubbed your back to sooth you. “No, you got here right on time.” There was a softness to his voice that made you melt as you looked up at him and smiled. “I’m too late to be a guard dog. Ludwig or Vivaldi wouldn’t have let him get close enough to hurt you.” You shake your head as you pull back, taking his hands in your own once again to inspect the damage. But he turned his hands over and took your own. “How about we go up to the cabin this weekend?” Asa askes, his question not very well fitted for the currant moment. “huh?” Your eyes glanced to the box which was moving slightly as Arkin struggled. “Oh, we’ll take him. And, since I am out of commission right now, perhaps I can show you some tricks.” Asa smirked as your eyes light up at his words. “Yes!” You bounce on the balls of your feet. You went up on your tiptoes to kiss him, resisting every urge not to pull him upstairs to his bedroom right now. Pulling back, you dart down and pick up the gun, offering it to Asa. “I’ll go get some stuff to see to your hands. And I’ll run back and pack a quick bag and then come and pack your things. I think I should drive, though. You’ll have to give me instructions.” You rattle off, the excitement obvious in your voice. “Oh, you’ll get use to taking instruction this weekend.” Asa whispered in your ear, making you blush and bite your lip with a smirk. Arkin seemed to get a burst of energy and started flaying around in the box, which only moved slightly. “He truly is annoying, isn’t he?” you huffed, hating the moment was ruined by him. Asa simply chuckled and walked up to the box, sitting on it and stopping it from shifting. As you flitted around, gathering supplies and seeing to his hands and then packing his things, Asa watched with a soft eyes. He would be lying if he said he trusted you from the start. And even more so if he admitted there had still been a small part of him that thought you were with the police. but that doubt was well gone. And this weekend, he wanted to celebrate this strange relationship. And oh, what a celebration it would be.

[uncloseted]

Hey, I’m a big fan of your blog! When I saw the post about stupid questions, I thought I’d ask for some help. This isn’t necessarily stupid, but I don’t know.

How can I seem more confident?

I am confident within myself, but people are always telling me how insecure I am. Everyone is saying that I should be more confident. I don’t feel insecure, so why do I seem that way? I can be kind of quiet, so maybe that’s why.

Thanks!  This isn’t a stupid question at all!  The thing I get asked the most is actually how to build self-confidence or to care less about what other people think.  For you, it seems like the issue isn’t actually in having self confidence, but in projecting self confidence.  Some of that is in body language- having good, open posture (no crossed arms or legs), making eye contact, standing firmly, and not fidgeting will help to convey confidence.  Some of it is in language- instead of hedging what you’re going to say will, “I think” or “maybe” or minimizing your feelings with “just”, try making clear, concise, and strong statements that end declaratively rather than questioningly.  And some of it is in actions- do you ask everyone around you what they think before you make a decision?  Do you defer to other people when a decision has to be made?  Do you do things that you’re interested in, wear things you want to wear, watch what you want to watch, etc., regardless of what your friends are doing?  You might appear more confident if you start asserting yourself or focusing less on what other people think of you.

Here are some other tips and tricks I’ve amassed for building self-confidence and not caring what other people think.  Some of it might be relevant for you and some of it might not, but hopefully someone who needs it will see it.

The first thing to remember about confidence is that people aren’t drawn to people because they’re beautiful, or smart, or kind, or fun, or interesting.  People are drawn to people who are confident (or appear to be confident).  If you’re confident and weird, you’re not weird, you’re a visionary.  If you’re confident and ugly, you’re not ugly, you’re “unconventionally beautiful” or a trendsetter.  If you’re confident and overly serious, you’re not boring, you’re a leader.  A lot of people think it’s the other way around- that only beautiful, smart, charming people who are well-liked can be confident- but it’s not true.  To use a Skins example, Tony’s not a good person.  He’s manipulative and cruel.  But people like him (at least in the beginning) and go along with what he says because he’s confident.  The same goes for Katie.  You can argue about whether she’s objectively the most attractive girl in the group, but she acts confident in herself and in her appearance, and it works. Lots of guys are attracted to her.  So that’s the first thing- don’t focus on changing yourself (physically or emotionally) in the hopes that you’ll be more confident.  Instead, focus on changing your mindset to that of a confident person.  It will make a huge difference.

Of course, that’s all easier said than done, and the process of building self confidence can take a while.  In the meantime, while you’re on the journey of actually becoming confident, one thing that can help is “faking it until you make it”.  When you’re going about your day, ask yourself, “how would a confident person who’s never experienced insecurity or anxiety handle this situation”?  Then do what a confident person would do.  If you have a really confident friend, it can help to imagine what they would do in a given situation and then do that.  Pretend everyone you meet already loves you and thinks you’re great.  Pretend like you think you’re great.  It will feel uncomfortable at first, but you’ll start getting used to it and the “confident” responses to things will start feeling normal.  One thing that can make this a little bit easier is to talk to yourself in the second person.  By saying things like “you’ve got this”, your brain will (sort of) feel like you’re receiving advice from somebody else, which is more motivating than getting advice from ourselves.

There are also some exercises you can use to build your self confidence on your own. Some of you have heard this one before, so bare with me, but the first thing I suggest is:  every morning, look at yourself in the mirror and say some things you like about yourself.  I know you probably feel like you can’t find any, but try.  Focus on those things that you like and try to only focus on those things.  Write them down, either physically (on a sticky note on your mirror, maybe) or in your phone.  Each day, try to add a new thing to the list.  When you’re out and about, remember those things that you like about yourself, focus on them, and try to draw attention to them.  When other people compliment you, add those to your list as well.  I think eventually by recognizing all of the things that you like about yourself, you’ll be able to feel like there are things about you that you can be confident in, and you won’t focus so much on the things that you feel are negative.  These don’t have to just be things that are physical.  You should include things you like about your personality as well.

A lot of people who are insecure use deprecating humor to cope and as a bid to get other people to like them.  But I think that can be really emotionally damaging.  Like Hannah Gadsby said in Nanette, “I have built a career out of self-deprecating humor, and I don’t want to do that anymore..do you understand what self-deprecation means when it comes from somebody who already exists in the margins? It’s not humility. It’s humiliation. I put myself down in order to speak, in order to seek permission to speak, and I simply will not do that anymore, not to myself or anybody who identifies with me.”  Self-deprecation impacts our self-esteem, and it impacts the way people around us view us.  The more times we say something, even as a joke, the more we start to believe it, and the more the people around us start to believe it.  So instead, make fun of yourself by pretending you’re really, really cocky.  If you trip and fall, instead of saying, “I’m such a disaster”, replace it with “I’m the epitome of grace and beauty”.  If you make a piece of art and you think it sucks, say, “Obviously I’m the next Di Vinci/Michelangelo/whatever.”  If you say something dumb, instead of saying, “I’m so stupid,” say, “I’m clearly the next Einstein.”  You still get to make a joke and diffuse any awkwardness the situation has, but you also get practice saying nice things about yourself.  And eventually, you’ll get so used to saying nice things about yourself as a joke that it won’t feel so weird to say those things about yourself in a serious way, too.

For those people who feel insecure about things they did in their past, try and think of something embarrassing one of your friends has done.  Can you think of anything?  The vast majority of people remember their own embarrassing moments really vividly, but don’t remember things other people have done at all.  Reminding yourself that you’re probably the only one who remembers or cares about the mistake you made can help you let go.  The mistakes you’ve made in the past are learning experiences that you’ve grown from and changed from, and the fact that you’re embarrassed by them is a good thing.  It means that you’re not that person anymore- that you’ve become someone better.  I think that’s something to celebrate instead of something to cringe at.  It can also help to talk to yourself as if you were a friend who’s remembering an embarrassing moment. Would you tell them how embarrassing that moment was and how much they suck?  Probably not.  You’d be nice to them and tell them things will be okay.  Talk to yourself like you would a friend.

The fact that people aren’t paying attention to what you’re doing doesn’t just apply to cringey things you did in your past.  People are unlikely to remember that one time you tried a new hairstyle or wore an unusual piece of clothing.  They’re unlikely to remember that one time you asked someone out and they rejected you.  So many of the social pressures we feel can be remedied by remembering that most people are way too worried about what they’re doing and how they appear to the world to care about what you’re doing.

One more piece of advice- stop comparing yourself to other people.  The old adage, “comparison is the thief of joy” is totally, scientifically proven to be true.  Comparing ourselves to other people (or to TV shows, movies, characters in books, etc) makes us much less happy because we’re comparing everything we know about ourselves, good and bad, with a curated version of this person.  We don’t see them when they wake up in the morning with crusty eyes and frizzy hair, or when they have the flu, or when they’re overwhelmed and anxious and lashing out at the people around them.  But the truth is that everyone, even the people you think have perfect lives that you see on social media, are just people.  They have bad habits and negative traits and days where they’re not at their best, just like the rest of us.  If you really want to start being confident, one of the best things you can do for yourself is to mute or unfollow the people who make you feel insecure online, and replace them with people who inspire you- artists or activists or cute videos of animals, whatever works.  You’ll never be able to feel good about yourself if you’re constantly tracking all the ways in which you feel you don’t measure up.  But you will if you’re constantly seeing all the ways in which you do.

Last thing. Basic life care stuff, like good posture, exercising, eating well, sleeping well, meditating, and just generally practicing self-care and taking care of yourself can improve your confidence as well.  If you’re not starting on a strong foundation, it’s hard to build anything that will last.  But if your foundation is solid, all of the things you do to build your self-confidence on top of that will be, too.

[dear-yandere]

—ask collection!

a collection of mostly very old chats and sweet asks that i never got around to answering! thanks for the patience and love!! 

beware, fairly long post... woops....

chat asks.

darling: Eu-jin is best boy. Change my mind.

vanya: i am physically incapable of fulfilling that request, how dare you do that to me... i’m biased since he’s my own oc, but i would die for my (very best) boy eu-jin... who can resist such a gentle yandere that loves you so whole-heartedly?

that reminds me! he’s actually based off of kuroyuki and gekkamaru from the otome nightshade, so if you want similar characters by any chance, do check them and the game out ♡

darling: I was watching the dub for Part 5 of JoJo's Bizarre adventure yesterday...Mista called himself Daddy and I like- sdfghjfgsdhnhnmj!! My heart can't take this--

vanya: WAIT HE DID???? i’m not even big on daddy kink and reading that made me go 😳 this is vital information to know... what episode was this??? for research purposes, of course. gotta perfect my yan! mista, after all~...

darling: for yandere songs, have you heard of the major to minor covers by chase holfelder :O? the way he delivers the lyrics in some songs (betty, all i want for christmas), added with the key changes to minor, is really fantastic, and gives a stalker-ish vibe imo! and he's a really good singer in general

vanya: i have!! a good chunk of them are actually on my personal yandere playlist, so i end up hearing them frequently when i’m writing!! i haven’t been keeping up with his uploads recently, so ‘betty’ is completely new to me and just, wow???????????? this man is an absolute god send for us “romantic” horror fans... ♡

this ask gave me such a lovely idea, though, darling: assigning yandere types/mbti based off each of chase’s minor key covers. i think i’ll do that just for you. ♡

darling @blossomiich​: I reread some of your old character interaction asks and saw the one with Jotaro hugging his Darling after a panic attack and the elephant seal plush reminded me of the iconic C H O N K Y ringed seal plushie that was kinda trending and I can totally imagine Jotaro having one of those >w< that's so adorable!

vanya: i honestly don’t remember that interaction, but then again i don’t remember most things hmghng so i looked it up and

j...just imagine star plat hogging it and not letting joot cuddle with it 🥺 the duality of man...thank you for this cute image...

darling: Umm, sorry for asking this. I'm just curious because of your bio language in your header. Are you Chinese too, perhaps?

vanya: no worries!! i’m mixed guyanese (indian, chinese, & possibly black and/or portuguese), but my family only celebrates (or rather, acknowledges?) our indian descent, since the majority of our family is predominantly east indian. 

my header is actually a quote from a danmei novel (and one of my all-time favorite fandoms), tiān guān cì fú (heaven’s official blessing)!

darling genki stan anon: Omg you're writing for free now, i didn't expect that one lol. It's a cute show innit? Not a nagi stan but I feel like nagisa has that kinda unsnapped personality that would make him peak delusional yandere material lolol like oikawa but less threatening and without his head being up his own ass 😂. Hope you're doing well!! -gsa

Gdjsjs im such a fool, i think my last ask said something about not thinking you'd write for free when i literally just pointed out kisumi on your sideblog LMAO my bad 😅 😂 also ill hold back on the gen chan requests because ive already asked so many in the past! Thank you though 🥺. Also feel free not to post this, it can just dip into my onesided chats with my lil flower 💐 so long as you receive them im fine 😌 -genki stan anon

vanya: nagisa isn’t my favorite (kisumi is), but gods if he wouldn’t make a great yandere. honestly, out of the iwatobi boys, nagi is probably the most unhinged. i wouldn’t peg him as delusional, at least not at first; i think he’s very lucid and knows exactly what he wants and how to manipulate people in order to get it!!! kisumi is fairly similar now that i think about it... i might... have a type...

please feel free to send in gen-chan requests whenever you want!!!! i’m kinda super asocial, so it’ll take me a while to answer, but i love getting asks from you since you’re so sweet and excitable!!! your little flower reads and cherishes them all!! 🥺

also darling genki stan anon: Sorry for spamming you with asks hdjkdks, u dont even need to reply im just kinda brain empty venting here whether you recieve them or not 😂 i just needed to confess that while yes i am #1 gen simp, and he is undoubtedly my fave oc of yours but that Ilya tentacle smut had me very much so highkey kinda 👀, had to re read the genki oral style drabble to bring my head back. He dont even need to worry about luca bc that man a thot. I think therin is a thot too but like lowkey, a classy thót -gsa

vanya: omg i’ve kept this one for forever mnmghngh i might’ve even answered at some other point, now that i think about it... but i just 🥺 gosh i hope i find my muse soon, because i really wanna write you a genki fic 🥺 hhhh

the ilya tentacle smut was so in character for that boy... i have no clue how to write monsters, much less tentacles, but i’d honestly do anything for him 🙏 kinky russian boy...

therin is definitely a classy thot, the kind that only bangs the finest concubines then turns around and slut shames you for banging the very same prostitutes gbfmngnfg rules don’t apply to him, in his kingdom...wish that were me tbh ✊😔

sweet asks.

darling one: i've read almost all of your dazai and chuuya fics and i love them so much!! your formatting is also super aesthetic just a question, i saw on your kofi that you also draw so i was wondering if you drew all the header arts?? bc they're all super pretty :) have a great day!

darling two: Just wanted to say love the writing and the way your format your posts is so aesthetically pleasing. One day I hope my posts looks half as good as yours because I legit can't get over how pretty and organized it looks.

vanya: omg thank you so much!!!! one of my bffs, yue, is to thank for the formatting and aesthetic choices, really! if you wanna see more of her aesthetic formats and posts, she actually runs a few blogs! you may know her as @milkscafe​, formally @milkaaton! i adore her and her aes choices so much 🥺

as for the headers, i don’t draw 99.98% of them! i have drawn a couple, but they’re so few and far in between since i almost never finish my art wips haha... my older posts are lacking proper credits because i’m an absolute idiot, but i’m slowly working my way backwards to credit them all where possible! they’re all indeed super pretty!!!

have a great day yourself, my love!!

darling: THEY’RE NOT BAD CONTENT, I LOVE THEM ALL

vanya: this was in response to a now-deleted lil blurb but i kept it in my inbox because i wanted to say i love u very much and seeing this ask each time i open my inbox makes my heart skip a beat ♡

darling: Listen I love your writing, you inspired me to start it myself! I've always loved to write, and read of course but your style and concepts just stick with me. If you where to write something besides Yandere content/fandom content and started your own series? I would read the shit, out of it. I'm always nervous to interact with my favorite writers because you know, I'm afraid of the impression I'd leave but I just wanted to say this anyway! 💞💞💞🔫😳

vanya: wowowow fgfnmgnfmngfg that’s such a high compliment my brain just gmfnbgmnf go boom fogjfngnfg and thank you for the interaction, us writers truly appreciate it no matter how awkward or nervous you think you may be / come off!!!

darling one: As a writer, your post struck a nerve with me. I don’t send feedback to writers I like nearly as much as I should (and certainly not as much as I’d like in return as a writer). So, as such, I’m going to start doing that when I can, starting with you.

You are an incredible writer. You were one of the first yandere writing blogs I found and you’re still one I check in on regularly to see what you have been working on. You can portray a sense of suspense and intrigue in a natural way that many other writers - published ones included - struggle with. You delve into the darkness without it feeling forced, and you have an amazing grasp on the psyches of the characters you write for (which is a quality I adore in writing and strive toward myself).

I’m not great at ending these things so I guess.. you keep doing you? Because the you is great and I appreciate it.

darling two:  hey. i'm here to tell you that from the bottom of my heart i love you and your writings. i really admire your writing skills. you inspire me. one of your posts once saved me from a nervous breakdown. thank you for everything you do. you're a wonderful person. good luck!

darling three: I wanted to tell you that thank you for writing such wonderful beautiful writings and that you take time to edit and write I hope you are taking care of yourself 💖❤

darling four: Thanks. I was having a hard time and deleted all my apps, but as soon as i opened my phone my first instinct was to look at your blog and i got my motivation back. Thanks (:

darling five: Hi ! I just wanted to say I really enjoy the stories you write and how they are detailed so well ! Stay safe and I hope you have a good day/night ! ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

vanya: ahhhh, these are very old asks mostly dating back to my “tumblr writing community is dying” post, and i’ve kept them this entire time because i’m just so starstruck. i have no clue how to reply to compliments, so i’m not sure what else to say besides that these asks made me very happy and got me through a few insecure moments!!! i’ve actually been feeling a little down about my writing recently, mostly because of lack of motivation / inspiration, so revisiting these really warmed my heart, so thank you truly ♡ i’m certainly keeping the originals in my inbox until the end of time!!

darling @monstrously-obsessed: psst, this local cryptic mom thing send all of their love for you 💕

vanya: your local herbo says she loves you very much momster 🥺 mwah

also, to the anon worried about my safety:

thank you so much for pointing that out!!! it hadn’t even crossed my mind when i made those ocs, so i appreciate your concern! i was contemplating revamping those two as is, so this is a great place to start! thank you again!!