#sincerely sorry if i forgot anyone :(( i'm new to this

[radiant-reid]

was reading some old writings and was wondering if you could do a fic/blurb based on this hc of spencer x reader?

"Practices saying your first name with his last name. Like when he thinks you're not awake and then one day he's introducing you and he totally slips up"

omg i forgot i wrote this

The BAU team had decided to gather for a casual get-together at Rossi's place for his birthday. It was a rare occasion for everyone to unwind and spend some quality time outside of work, and Rossi had invited lots of his friends around, as well as the BAU team and their dates. Which is how you scored an invite and why you're arriving hand in hand with him, dressed up, smiling, and excited for the evening.

As you entered the living room, you were greeted by familiar faces and the pleasant hum of conversations. Rossi approaches, a grin on his face as he welcomes you both.

"Hey, everyone! Glad you could make it." He says cheerfully. "Oh, and here comes our favorite couple."

You nudge Spencer's side as he blushes, and you can't help but feel a surge of warmth in your heart as you squeezed his hand.

You split off from Spencer to talk with the girls, chatting and catching up. But Spencer turns up to tug you away and introduce you to new people.

"This is Y/n Reid. My wi-" He unintentionally uses his own last name instead of yours before clearing his throat and trying to cover it. "L/n, actually. Y/n L/n, my girlfriend." He's stammering and flustered, blushing bright red.

You can't help but shyly grin, shaking hands with everyone as they introduce themselves, the slip-up barely phasing anyone.

Morgan clasps Spencer on the back, not resisting an opportunity to tease him. "Looks like you're already mentally prepared to take that leap, huh, Reid?"

Spencer's face reddens further, but he can't hide his bashful smile. He glanced at you, apologetic and sheepish, silently asking for forgiveness.

"It's alright, Spence." You reassure him, squeezing his hand again. "I'm not the only one of us that's thought about us getting married."

Later, when you find a moment alone in a quieter corner of the house, Spencer takes a deep breath before speaking. "I'm really sorry about the mix-up, Y/n." He apologizes sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or assume anything."

You gently place a hand on his arm, a soft smile on your lips. "Spencer, it's alright. It was just a slip of the tongue. No harm done."

He nods, his eyes searching yours. "But... I have to admit, it's something I've thought about... and I think it sounds nice. Your first name... my last name."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a rush of emotions. Spencer's vulnerability and honesty are endearing, making you realize just how deeply he cares for you.

"I like that idea too." You confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "Well just wait for you to propose, I guess."

[rawbin-hsr]

Hi!! Saw ur taking requests, do you mind making some hcs for how a queerplatonic relationship with aven would be like? Demiro/ace aven is so dear to me, and being on the grayromantic spectrum myself, I really wanna just like, have this super deep bond with him where we're both each other's most important person without a doubt and physically affectionate but not like, romantic if u know what I meann (plus, I think a platonic relationship that goes past friendship and full of care would help him so much)

but I understand a lot of ppl aren't aware of how qpps work, so it's ok if you ignore this!! <3

ANON. ANON I LOVE YOU. YOU GET IT.

As someone on the aroace spectrum (I’m like 90% sure I can’t romantically love people; I only experience infatuation for three months at most before realising that I actually only want a close friendship 💀) I love love love this take on Aventurine and I’m so happy you’re asking me to do hcs on this !!!

This turned out a LOT longer than I planned and became like a whole story not just headcanons HELP I’m sorry bro I hope you don’t mind 😭😭🙏🙏 At the start it’s not even about being qpps it’s just about him learning to tolerate you that was not on purpose I apologise deeply, I promise the hcs come in at the end 💀

Queerplatonic Aventurine x Reader Headcanons

CW: queer dynamics, cursing, Aventurine’s messed up perception of people around him, Aventurine in general tbh (he's toxic I'm gonna be so real 😭), brief mention of sex but nothing actually happens, very soft and sweet (mostly), a lil bit of hurt/comfort, small mention of his sexual trauma towards the end, gender-neutral reader

Lmk if I missed anything !

Also sorry anon I forgot you specified demiro/ace he ended up basically just purely aroace 😭 I hope that doesn't matter too much </3

You’re not like everyone else, Aventurine realises quickly when he meets you.

Most people he surrounds himself with are closed off and guarded, but you are, surprisingly, not. In fact, your honesty is a bit… disarming. So complete he finds himself at a bit of a loss.

He thinks he doesn’t like you at first. He can’t avoid you, as you’re integral to this new project he’s working on, but he wishes he could. Something about you is deeply off-putting. He knows it is the way you never lie.

You’d think total honesty would be a weakness. He knows it would be for him. If he laid out all his cards on the table, he wouldn’t last another day. But the way you always leave yourself open is a new kind of defence in itself that he has never seen anyone else utilise before. When he tries to pry information out of you, you flatly tell him you can’t tell him that, that you know what he’s doing. You’re blatantly putting up barriers with him, and it drives him mad because usually, he can do a push and pull but that doesn’t work with you. It’s hard to be sneaky when you see right through him and stop him.

One day you tell him you would like to grab a coffee with him. He is sure you are flirting, that you mean it as a date. He is sure you want him, and though he usually limits these kinds of interactions to only flirting, nothing more, he’s getting frustrated with the way you never give. Perhaps you’d give more easily if he pretended to leave himself vulnerable to you?

But it’s not a date. You don’t flirt with him, but you don’t talk about business either. What’s worse, you shut him down when he flirts with you. It’s upsetting. Are you toying with him? Is this a weird power play? You don’t seem like that kind of person, but Aventurine is familiarly acquainted with the knowledge most people are not what they seem.

Maybe his anger gets the better of him at one point, an hour into the not-date when you’ve dragged him to the park to feed the ducks. He asks you what the purpose of this is, if you aren’t intending to get into his pants.

You tell him you just wanted to hang out. That you think he needs a friend.

He’s infuriated, because he can tell you’re being sincere.

He leaves, snarking that he already has friends. (He does not. Not really.)

But he can’t stop thinking about it. And he can’t avoid you, because you’re still needed for the mission and now, he’s sure he hates you.

You continue to be nice to him for some reason, even after that fiasco ?? He’s never encountered someone who’s so willing to just be nice to others merely for the sake of being nice. What kind of fucked up ulterior motives are you hiding? What sort of closet freak are you?

Aventurine knows, logically, that some people are just nice. It’s unreasonable to think every single person is as selfish as he is. He grew up surrounded by people who were just nice. But last time he had the fortune of actually interacting with such people, he was shorter than the desk at his office.

He wants to pry into your head, learn everything about you, know what it would be like to be your friend like you had offered. He wants you to fuck off to the other end of the galaxy so he never has to see you ever again.

He accepts when you invite him to go to the arcade with you.

It’s… weirdly soothing.

You’re good company, as much as he hates you. You’re funny and witty and playful and kind. There is no hidden agenda behind anything you do. You insist upon paying for half the tickets you play with at the arcade, even though he’s sure he has at least thirty times the amount of disposable income you have.

He wins most of the games, of course. You win less than half. He excels at the luck-based games, and he’s not half bad at the more skill-based ones, whereas you’re best at the latter. You stay away from the luck-based ones, and the ones you do attempt you fail every time. He’s honestly impressed by how unlucky you are. But at one point you still insist upon winning something for him, even though you both know he’d win it quicker himself.

At the end of the outing, you hug him, tell him you enjoyed yourself. He finds his chest feels oddly warm as you say it. It takes a moment to register the feeling as that of happiness, the sensation of real joy something unfamiliar to him. He smiles and hugs you back.

Maybe he doesn’t hate you.

You’re the first person he truly thinks of as a friend. Though he claims he has many, he knows he doesn’t really. The closest he had before you was maybe Topaz, or Ratio, but Topaz seems to view him as more of an annoying younger brother sometimes and he clearly gets on Ratio’s nerves. You're the first person who makes him feel truly... liked. A weird concept.

It’s not for his status or his money or his reputation. You turn him down when he tries to spend money on you. He’s not sure if that annoys him or if it makes him weirdly giddy.

Even long after his mission has ended, and he no longer needs you, you stick around. He lets you. He starts coming around for you too.

It’s fun to be around you. Again, you’re very good company. Smarter and funnier than most dimwits at the IPC. He considers inviting you to work under him, he’s sure the pay he could offer you would be better than what you currently make, but he doesn’t want to drag you too far into the mess that is his life.

He starts sleeping over at your house uninvited. He makes himself at home in your apartment. Your place is so much nicer than his, even if it’s smaller, run down and objectively a worse place to live in. The pipes in your sink clog too easily and the lights in the bathroom always flicker, despite your best attempts to fix it. But the rooms are all reminiscent of you, of what kind of person you are. Photos of your loved ones line the walls, trinkets you’ve picked up from various places decorate your shelves, and even though it looks messy he knows it’s all very organised from your point of view. It’s so different from his cold, clean, impersonal penthouse.

You cuddle him sometimes. Hug him and pull him into your chest when you watch movies. You play with his hair. You trace patterns on the back of his hand. Surely, those are all things lovers do? But your eyes never linger on his lips, you never look at him with yearning — he can tell you already have everything you want. It makes him feel… relieved.

He likes it when you touch him. He never liked being touched before, but you’re warm and gentle without being too light with him. You don’t touch him like he’s fragile, but you don’t intend to test his limits. You never stray from the safe areas on his body. You never touch with intent to go any further.

He feels safe.

Whenever he’s not out on business, he comes home to you. Will you have grown tired of him by next time, he always wonders. And the answer is always no. You’re always happy to see him.

He frequently finds himself thinking about you. He frequently finds himself missing you when he’s away. He sees things that remind him of you everywhere, and often wishes you were with him. All symptoms of being in love, he’s heard, but he doesn’t think he’s in love? To be fair, he has never experienced true attraction, and what he feels for you is certainly deeper and more intimate than what he’s ever felt for anyone else, so maybe he is in love with you.

But does romance not entail wanting to kiss you? Does romance not entail wanting to see you naked? Does romance not entail wanting to have sex? He doesn’t particularly crave any of those things.

He’s heard of ‘butterflies’ in your belly when seeing the one you love. He never feels that when he sees you. He only feels a deep sense of comfort, of contentment.

But he doesn’t like the thought of you being with anyone else the way you are with him. Jealousy is a sign of romantic feelings, yes? So maybe he does love you that way after all.

But he never asks you to be his partner. Whenever he considers it, something oddly heavy settles in his gut, and he doesn’t understand why. Why would the thought of being your partner leave him with dread? You’d make a wonderful lover, he knows. You already make a wonderful…

… friend? Can he really call you just a friend?

You call him or text him every day to make sure he’s okay. You send him photos of things that reminds him of you. You cook him meals when he visits you and you buy him gifts even though he could very well buy things for himself. You cuddle him and hug him and you sometimes even, albeit playfully, kiss his knuckles or the top of his head and you let him sleep in your bed with you.

Calling you only a ‘friend’ diminishes your worth, does it not? He calls everyone he meets ‘friend’. He can’t reduce you to something so… insignificant.

So he asks you one day, when you’re both sat on opposite sides of your couch, your legs splayed out over his lap as you eat popcorn. He asks:

“What are we?”

You look at him. And you smile.

“I don’t know.”

He blinks. You sound so serene as you say it. Are you not worried about this? Why do you seem so unconcerned with what he is to you?

Sensing his discomfort, you set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table, and scoot closer to him. His arms automatically wrap around your waist as you shift yourself to lean against him, leaning down to place your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t need to label what we are. I’m happy with things as they are. Are you?”

He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling the by now familiar scent of your shampoo.

“I am.”

“You don’t sound entirely convinced.”

He huffs, pulling you closer.

“… Maybe I don’t want you to treat others the way you treat me.”

(He doubts you would. You have more integrity than he’s ever had: he’s aware there is some level of mutual understanding that whatever you are is something exclusive.)

You laugh.

“You think I treat others like you?”

“Can’t be sure,” he hums playfully, pinching your side. “Who knows, maybe you say that to all the guys.”

“I don’t like ‘all the guys’,” you point out. “I only like you this way.”

“What does ‘this way’ mean, then?”

You pull back to look at him. Gaze as warm and kind as always, a smile on your lips.

“Well, I love you a lot. A lot more than I love others. I’m not sure what answer you want.”

You’ve never explicitly stated the word ‘love’ before. Something hot and giddy fills his chest, something awfully childish, but he ignores it.

“Do you want me to be your… boyfriend?” he asks hesitantly. He’s not sure what he feels about the idea himself.

“I mean, if that’s what you want,” you shrug, sounding so casual about the idea that he doubts you’re that enthusiastic about it. (Should he feel offended?) “I just don’t want anything to change between us. I really like what we’ve got going on.”

He leans back into you, burying his face into your hair again. His arms squeeze your waist.

“… I like what we’ve got going on, too,” he admits. The honesty feels a little less foreign on his tongue than it used to, before he met you.

“I guess it’d be easier to call you my boyfriend than my ‘very close friend who eats all my food and sleeps in my bed half the time’,” you add teasingly. He snorts, pulling back just enough to shoot you a playful glare.

“Food that I pay you back double for,” he points out. You snicker, but don’t respond.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” You ask instead after a moment, reaching up to play with his hair. He leans into the touch.

He’s quiet for a moment, considering the question.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess you’re right that it’d be easier to call each other that. Maybe we should go for it.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, and that’s that.

And nothing changes in your relationship. All that changes is the title.

You cuddle and you hug and you spend time together. Whenever you flirt, it’s more of an inside joke than anything else. You go on not-dates nearly once a week, whenever he’s home to do that.

He doesn’t tell people what you really are to him. He doesn’t even have the words to describe it himself. It doesn’t matter to him than anyone else knows either. Maybe he’s just a little bit happy, even, to get to keep the secret of what you are to himself. It somehow feels more special when only the two of you know.

He starts confiding in you. Telling you things he would not tell anyone else. Things he previously thought he would bring to his grave. About himself, about his past, his thoughts and his feelings. You always hold him, let him speak until it’s off his chest, and you murmur comforting words. He feels so much lighter after, every time.

You tell him your secrets too. Your doubts and your worries. He holds you in return, and tries to soothe your concerns. He knows he’s not as good at it as you, but you seem to appreciate it anyways.

He doesn’t trust anyone else. Only you. You’re the only one he knows he can always turn to, the only person he knows for sure doesn’t mean him any harm.

He brings you gifts and trinkets he finds when he’s away. He’s gotten pretty good at figuring out what sort of things you like. You always give him the sweetest smile when he does, thank him with a hug, and put the item to use right away. Whether that means displaying a decoration somewhere along your already overfilled shelves, putting on a bracelet or trying out a new kitchen appliance that night. He starts to think that the point of wealth is to give you all the things you could want.

For some reason, the intimate nature of your relationship doesn’t scare him. The fact that you’ve told him he’s ’more like the closest friend you could ever want to have than a lover’ puts him at ease. Your commitment to one another doesn’t feel as frightening that way.

You prioritise him over your other commitments. You tell him he’s your ‘favourite person’, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop feeling warm in his chest when he thinks about it. You’re his favourite, too.

Sorry I seriously ran out of steam for this format here, moving on to headcanons from another perspective because I am NOT DONE !!!! (next part won't have been proof-read at all sorry guys it will just be unhinged rambling)

I don't think Aventurine would necessarily know what queerplatonic means, (and the way I've written Reader here they probably wouldn't go out of their way to research it either lol I think they're just the type to be like "well I'm happy so why would I need to know every little detail about what this is ?? 😊") and he doesn't really understand the nature of your relationship himself HELP

He just knows it's not romantic, and that really puts him at ease

I think Aventurine is like. EXTREMELY toxic in a romantic relationship because the though of that sort of commitment scares him on a very deep and personal level and it FREAKS. HIM. OUT. but I think a platonic relationship, even if it's just as deep, freaks him out a little less. It just feels different yknow ?

Idk how to formulate myself but I think that, after being looked at for like basically his whole life as a commodity (and, even worse, a literal sex object), the thought of being looked at without ANY sexual desire or romantic interest just really kind of puts him at ease.

Especially in this read of him as demi/aroace, I think he'd appreciate being seen in a purely platonic light. I personally don't think he is aroace in the way I normally write him, but even in the way I usually write him I do think a queerplatonic relationship would be deeply comforting for him

Like, think reader being aroace and being in a queerplatonic relationship with him and he's like actually in love with them,,, I don't think he'd mind that too much. He'd think it was so nice that you love him enough to be in a relationship even if you don't romantically love him. Even if it would be nice too if you did desire him that way, he'd like it either way

Sorry got off track there mb

Queerplatonic relationships are tricky to write because there is no real "norm" for what they entail like,, fuck man I'M aroace and I barely know what it means to be in a qpps

Like,, from my understanding it can be essentially the same as a "normal" relationship where you kiss and get married and have kids and all that stuff but you do it without romantic intent

or it can be a friendship that just goes really really deep, and you're just like,,,, idk roomates PLS

But I think a qpps with Aventurine would be somewhere inbetween what others would think a "normal" romantic relationship would be and just a very close friendship

I already mentioned cuddles, and like chaste kisses to more "safe/platonic" areas (forehead, top of head, hands etc). You sleep in the same bed and you basically go on dates ("not-dates" lol). I think he'd be fine with like kisses to the lips and playful flirting, but he wouldn't want to make out or have sex. He would however love to cuddle naked lol (the intimacy without any sexual intent,,,, yeahyeah I hope you get me here I lovveee lovelove the idea of just touching him and it's just sweet and urghhghh)

Everyone else definitely thinks the two of you are in love and neither of you correct people because who cares

Esp Aventurine I don't think he WANTS others to know what you are to a point where he'll actively try to make it seem more like a romantic relationship in front of others

Because what you are is very precious to him, and he maybe feels just slightly maybe just a bit irrationally possessive over the concept of your relationship PLS

Like no he doesn't want anyone to understand your bond. That is SPECIAL. It is only for him and you to understand back off

I love my toxic unhealthy mentally deranged king

I think I've said everything I wanted to say now so I'm ending it off here. Worst case scenario I'll be back with a part 2 or a reblog to add more LMAO I just can't shut up bro

♡ ∩_∩ („• ֊ •„)♡ |￣U U￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣| | Thanks for reading! | ￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Thanks for reading I appreciate it !!! I hope this was at least somewhat comprehensible <3 Remember that my inbox is open and I lovelovelove to receive requests <3

[king-paimon]

Houseki no Kuni Chapter 105 Thoughts:

Hello everyone. I hope you have all been well, considering the hectic and honestly devastating month this has been for many people across the world. It's sad how awful real life can be. I'm so sorry to everyone who is affected directly and indirectly. Though words can only do so much, I sincerely hope things get better for you all.

Now then... regarding this chapter.

This was definitely a spectacle. So much happened and though we had an idea of where the chapter was going to go because of the last pages from the previous chapter, it still managed to catch me off guard. I don't think anyone saw a literal "deus ex machina" ship to appear, but at the same time... of course that would happen. Ms. Ichikawa loves pulling stunts like this. Whether it's good or not is up for debate. More on this later.

But the one thought that came to mind after reading this chapter was: "Finally." We are truly now in the final stretch of Phos's story, and I couldn't be more happier for them... BUT that feeling got muddied when I saw the bottom of the final page.

Another hiatus.

Sigh. I'll also touch on this in this post. But for now, I'll share my thoughts on this chapter with you. These posts always end up being longer than first intended so sorry in advance! As always, please feel free to share what you think on here too!

(Just so you know, I was extremely tired when I wrote this so it may be convoluted in some areas. I'll likely tidy it up later after I get some proper rest. Hope you enjoy it regardless!)

The Deus Ex Machina Ship: Why??

Was anyone else surprised that the object Brother Eyeball was carrying was a piece of Lunarian technology, that seems to only activate under the extreme heat of a sun that's about to consume the planet? I certainly didn't see it coming at all and I don't know how to feel about it at the moment.

Based on everything up until this point and Phos's comments here, it's evidently clear that Aechmea planted it there for this specific occasion. My question is why? Why did Aechmea bother in leaving this for Phos?

Perhaps Aechmea hoped Phos would take the new remnants of humanity and create a new society once again on a new planet, sort of like what Adamant did for the Lustrous. Maybe this was some twisted/backhanded way of thanking Phos and giving them another second chance of surviving? I don't know, but if it's the Lunarians' weird way of trying to save Phos, it's kind of pointless. Like Phos said, running to another planet would only be a temporary solution since everything was going to be consumed by the dying stars eventually. Even though the little rocks and Eyeball still take the ship in the end just to survive a little longer, I don't really see the point of it either.

(Edit: Made small change here and included the page that I forgot to add.)

The only reason I can come up with for this ship to being there is that Aechmea knew of another place in space that wouldn't be affected by the dying suns and he wanted Phos and their new remnants of humanity to go there. But I honestly I believe that theory fully, so I don't know.

What do you guys think? Is there a reason why the lotus flower ship was intentionally left behind, other than Ms. Haruko just wanting a reason for Phos to be along again? To me, the only thing that was clear was that this ship was left for Phos and whoever else was with them that would only activate when the planet was going to be destroyed.

But this leads me to my next questions and segment...

Burning the Bridge: Phos's Final Actions

Unlike the lotus ship, Phos's actions in this chapter did not come as a surprise to me. Phos had long accepted that they were ready to finally disappear. And before the ship, it looked like the other beings were fine with it as well.

It was only when the ship appeared that the others expressed their desire to exist just a little longer, which completely understandable and I don't fault them for feeling this way.

It's touching and sad how Phos made sure that all those beings, including the final pebble that was introduced in this chapter, made it onto the ship so they could escape while Phos choose to stay behind. More on that in the next segment.

But back to Phos and their final decision to stay behind. So, we know that the ship was intentionally left for Phos by Aechmea and the Lunarians. And though it was used in the end, Phos chose to stay. Now my question is... was Phos's final decision to stay on the planet still part of Aechmea's plan, or was it part of the Professor's plan?

I've hypothesized in an older post that I thought that while Aechmea was a frightfully powerful being who was able to predict Phos's actions and successfully manipulate them, he wasn't truly omnipresent nor omnipotent since he couldn't predict everything and there were individuals that were not totally under his control.

I want to believe that Phos's final actions fall into that category. Part of me really wants to believe that Phos not getting on the ship was a final middle finger from the Professor through Adamant to Aechmea and everything he stood for.

But then again... this could have been an outcome Aechmea expected, too. It's honestly hard to say how much of everything that had happened was still going according to Aechmea's grand plan since it wasn't made clear if Aechmea knew of this memory of the professor that Adamant held onto.

Sorry for the ramble. I'll just say that unless I'm told otherwise, I'll believe that Phos's final actions was their final act of defiance towards Aechmea, in the name of the Professor.

I can only hope that Phos will finally be at piece once that bridge is burnt to the ground.

So, now that it seems like Phos's story is going to end, albeit in several months... there are still some elements in this story that have not yet been resolved. But after re-reading this chapter, I have a theory for one of them.

The Identity of The Last Passenger of the Lotus Ship (my silly theory)

This is a silly theory I came up with to try to explain one of the last mysteries of this story. It's been proven untrue, but I still want to keep it here because I still like it and had fun coming up with it!

One plot point that many others have brought up before, that I've admittedly forgotten over and over again, are the Ice Floes. These mysterious creatures played a unique role in the beginning but had quickly lost their relevancy in the story.

Now that the planet is about to be destroyed, it seems the Ice Floes will forever lose their significance in this story, though they hadn't been relevant in a long while. Well... I have a theory and it relates to the last member of Phos's little pebble family.

In this chapter, Ms. Ichikawa made it a point to have Phos collect this one last pebble and put on the ship. Though all of the pebble beings are unique to one another, this one is the most different from all of them. For one, it's significantly smaller than the other pebbles, almost the size of a grain of rice. And unlike the others, it hasn't spoken once, though Phos could sense its very faint presence, so it is sentient to a degree.

With all of this in mind, I couldn't help but wonder why Ms. Ichikawa included this in the story now? Why did she make pages dedicated to Phos collecting this pebble right when the planet is about to die? She had to have done it for a reason, but why? Why is this teeny pebble important?

Well, here's my theory: This teeny tiny pebble is what's left of the Ice Floes.

I came up with this theory based on a few things.

My first clue is the location where it was found. Judging from the details in these pages, this tiny pebble was in the middle of a dried up ocean.

The second is the type of rock I think it is. Ms. Ichikawa incorporated a lot of rock and mineral information in this story for her characters. I'm not sure if that's the case in this instance, but please allow me to indulge in my rock nerd side for a bit. I strongly believe it is a sedimentary rock. Sedimentary rocks are formed when bits of pre-existing rocks, inorganic material, and/or bits of once organic life forms accumulate and gradually get compacted and cemented together. This type of rock is found everywhere, but especially in the ocean.

The third and most supportive piece of evidence was Phos's comments on page 16.

Phos recognizes that this pebble is similar to the other rock life forms AND it's consciousness had been there since the beginning of the earth, meaning it's much older than nearly everything on this planet, including Phos and Eyeball. To me, this cemented my theory.

Of course, this is just me guessing. And I'll admit, when I went to look up the Ice Floes again, the HnK wiki states that Eyeball and the Ice Floes are connected, so I could very much be wrong. It was still fun to theorize haha

Please tell me what you think!

Edit: Well, it looks like that theory was incorrect. Oh well! I still had fun coming up with it. Thank you @laloyoungblood for letting me know.

The End Is Near and Yet So Far...

I've said it many times before and I'll say it again: I can't wait to see how this story ends. And if the story is going to end at 108 chapters, I'd be so happy, and the ending of this chapter had me excited for the final climax of the story...

Until I saw the excerpt at the bottom of the page.

Houseki no Kuni won't be returning until the spring of 2024... And we just barely came back from the other hiatus...

Now don't get me wrong, waiting through hiatuses is nothing new for me and I'm glad more mangaka are trying to prioritize their health and happiness than trying to rush their stories because of a deadline.

But these hiatuses are a bit annoying, I'm not going to lie. If there's one thing I know I won't miss with this series, it's the many, many hiatuses Ms. Ichikawa had done.

I know it'll be okay in the end. There are more important things going on in my life now, so I know I won't dwell on it for much longer. But at the same time, I just want this story to finally cross the finish line. We're so close to the end, and yet the goal post is moved again.

I just want to see this story end soon. And I hope it'll be worth it.

Okay! That's all for now. Thank you to everyone who reads and responds to my posts. I love all your responses. I don't know how many of you will stick around when I stop doing these posts, but I'm honestly really grateful to you.

Hope the rest of the month goes well for you all! Stay safe out there.

[hunterwritesstuff]

Could I request Roguefort x reader who's the son of Almond Cookie? Like, Roguefort keeps going to places the reader is stationed to commit thefts so that they get to see him?

Of course!

It was yet another late night of work. You were tired and just barely staying awake thanks to the coffee you picked up. You got stationed at a museum somewhere because of the new gem section.

It had Roguefort's name written all over it. Gems, jewels, it was all they loved and more. Little did you know, you were the 'more' part of that list.

They laid on their stomach on a rooftop nearby, kicking their feet, their cat on their shoulder. "What do you think, Lord Crumbles III? Isn't he gorgeous?" "Mow." "Oh, hush, you. You can't tell me YOU haven't found a queen or molly you like." "..." "That's what I thought.

Roguefort kept staring at you, enamored by your appearance. Your suit, your eyes, your...everything...it was far more valuable than any jewel or diamond they could ever find.

You were just...stunning to them. "ahhh....if anyone were to put me in handcuffs, I'd want it to be him...~" Roguefort yelped as Lord Crumbles III smacked the back of their head. "I was kidding!!...mostly."

Finally, Roguefort put on a disguise and headed down. They walked past you, struggling to hold back the urge to hold your hand as they passed. YOU WERE RIGHT THERE. HOW COULD THEY NOT-"Wait a second, sir?"

They froze. Shit. Was their disguise not convincing enough?

"Is that a cat? I'm afraid only service animals are allowed in." You apologized.

"Ah! Of course! Sincerely sorry! I forgot his, uhm...vest!" Roguefort said, snapping a finger and putting a vest on Lord Crumbles.

"Ah, understood." You nodded.

"Have a good night!" Roguefort smiled. You smiled back. "You too. Enjoy the new exhibit!"

They nodded, going inside and immediately hiding in the bathroom. "He smiled at me, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, he...HE SMILED AT ME!!" Roguefort's face was a bright red. "I'M the one who's supposed to steal hearts! Not HIM!"

Crumbles 'mrrp'd at Roguefort's seeming jealousy. "Oh, hush, you! He's never smiled at me before! This is AMAZING!!" They giggled.

After a while, they cooled off, heading back out. Making their way through the museum, they went to go do what they were known for.

Everything was a blur for them, they never paid attention to what happened on their heists typically. This time was different. Typically, the police stopped following them as soon as they got up to the roof.

Y/N Cookie, though...they followed Roguefort up. This got their face to heat up even more. They were already out of their disguise, so they didn't have to worry about this being a case of mistaken identity.

You saw them for who they were. Or...Who they appeared to be. That was one of the most romantic things Roguefort could possibly think of. They flinched a moment as you pulled out a spare pair of Almond Cookie's cuffs from behind your back. "Oh, come now...not even going to ask me out to dinner first, beautiful~?" They teased.

You flushed bright red. This, in, turn, caused Roguefort to go even brighter red, as it put unwanted images in their head. Not because they didn't want to have them, but rather now was an inopportune time for them to come up.

"While I would l-love to stay and chat~" They walked up to you, tilting your chin up with their cane, giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I must now bid you Au revoir~!" They laughed, jumping off the side of the building, drifting off into the night.

You groaned, reporting that, yes, you lost them. Again. "Don't sweat it, son. They're slippery. You can just come on home." Almond sighed over the radio. "I'm proud of you for trying." You smiled at that, finally shutting it off and starting the walk home.

You trudged back to your apartment, feeling nothing but disappointment that you couldn't catch them AGAIN. You didn't understand why they kept coming specifically to YOU either.

You swore you felt something when they kissed your cheek, YOU SWEAR YOU DID, but you shook your head. You couldn't have. You couldn't have made it work.

Then you noticed something. They left you something in your pocket. A letter. "Dearest Y/N Cookie, if you're reading this, chances are that I've taken an interest in you. What kind, you can probably figure out on your own. Next time you see me, don't be afraid to say hello~ Dangerously yours, Roguefort 'Phantom Bleu' Cookie. ~♡"

As Roguefort landed in a dark alleyway somewhere, you remained in their thoughts. They touched you. They...they KISSED YOU. It caused their brain to go wild.

They rolled into their apartment through a window, depositing the night's spoils in their typical spot. Walking past walls with photos upon photos of you, Roguefort finally laid down on their bed with one thought in their mind.

"Y/N Cookie...I will find some way to make you mine."

Hope ya enjoy! This was a lot of fun! :D

[hockybish]

"Duck, come on, stop it" Jamie asked his daughter when she "accidentally" smacked him the face again. It turning into one of those days were nothing was going right.

"No" Kinsley said her new favorite word as of late. She flopped in her father's arms pretended she didn't hear him.

"Can you please not do this right now?" Jamie's head was spinning with everything that has happened. The last 24hrs were crazy to say the least. He knew exactly why duck was acting out and he couldn'r help but blame himself.

He had just been dealt to Philly the day before and he had to pack enough things for the both of them to last until he could get someone to ship out the rest. In his hurry, he forgot Larry the Lobster back in California.

Of course this wouldn't have been a big deal, since out of her favorite stuffies Larry was the least loved, but today for some reason Ducky really wanted the stinking lobster. He didn't have it and she began to throw a fit.

On top of the lobster situation, they were running behind. The father and daughter arrived in Philadelphia later than expected and Jamie was supposed to be at practice with the new team right now but he didn't have anyone to watch his child. When he expressed this to management, they told him to bring her they would take care of it.

"Nooo!" Kinsley leaned backwards, trying to get out of her father's arms. The small child wasn't watching what she was doing and let go of her Wild Wing stuffy and it hit the lady passing by.

"Kinsley Jo, that wasn't very nice." Jamie lightly scolded his daughter. Duck gave him a face when he made the suggestion that she should apologize.

"It’s no problem.” The lady sincerely reassured Jamie, but it didn't stop him from feeling embarrassed and frustrated with his child.

“This must be yours. He's very adorable." She retrieved the toy from the ground, brushing the imaginary dirt off it. Holding it out for the little girl in the man's arms, she smirked when the child snatched it out of her hand.

"I'm so sorry about that. She's not normally like that. It's been a long day, and it's only 9:00 am" Jamie took the toy away from the child, if she wasn't to be nice with she couldn't have back yet. This made Duck even more frustrated and Duck became frustrated again when he wouldn't give it back.

"Oh no. It's really okay." Mia watched the father and daughter interacting. The father was not having any of the attitude his daughter was giving him.

He was handsome and looked awfully familiar. He must be the new guy. Mia knew they had acquired some player in a traded that had just happened, but she had no idea who it was since this was the first day she was returning from vacation.

She studied him a little longer when it hit her, literally because the little girl threw the stuffed animal at her again.

"That's it Kins. You can't have it back. I said no throwing it and you threw it again, so it's mine now." Jamie tucked Wild Wing in the bag he brought along. Duck stuck out her bottom lip, she was sorry now that she got the toy taken away.

"Jamie?"

"Yeah?" Jamie finally looked over at the speaking to him. It was his ex-girlfriend, former media girl for the Erie Otters way back when he was playing there. "Holy shit. Mia? Mia Lewis? What are you doing here?"

"Oh good Jamie you're here, we were starting to get a little worried, and I see you've met Mia. She's going to watch the kid today for you." Danny said plucking Kinsley out of Jamie's arms and into hers.

"Danny, I have actual work that needs to be done today. I can't watch the kid." Mia and Kinsley looked each other over sizing each other up. She readjusted the kid on her hip, and looked to the gm. This wasn't her job.

"Mia, we are a team here and we all need to help out when necessary. Okay?" Mia rolled her eyes accepting the change in plans for today.

"We'll talk later" Jamie handed over the bag of Ducks' things before he was escorted to the locker room to change for practice.

"What are you two doing for dinner? Want to come over?" She offered, Jamie shrugged agreeing, Cam probably wasn't going to be cooking up anything anyways.

[emerald-chan]

Hey Lynn! I hope you're doing well. I have finished the revised version if the message. As soon as you're done, I'll send it over to Dudley. And I was sure to add the people mentioned that are good members of the solars, and shouldn't be bashed.

✨✨✨✨

Hey guys, Rascal here. This particular message something's been coming for a long time now. I know that when it comes to the affairs of discourse with certain members or addressing behavior or contoversy, usually the co-leaders address and handle it then tell me the results. But this time its a matter that's gotten to a point where I was alerted to intervene myself.

My friend @LynnMagne has alerted me several times that the behavior of certain Solar members has gotten to a point where its no longer civil when it comes to disagreements, or are placing blame on other members for their actions. I've even gotten word that they refuse to listen to reason despite multiple attempts to defuse the situation or explain why their actions/words were wrong. I was also sent evidence of these actions through screenshots of conversations.

This tab only allows up to five images, but I can post the other evidences in the next post if necessary. Other rascals that have supported evidence are Davi Crossover, Dino/Mysticals and will post their responses/evidence and messages on their respective community tabs as well.

You're free to look at the below pictures that were sent as evidence of certain Solars actions. With that being said, we've come to a decided the only action that could fix this:

Banning Solar members who are also Rascals from the group and revoking their staff member status. Its not something I wanted to do, and I really hate losing people in the group, but I made the Rascals group so we could have fun together, not tear anyone apart.

There was an idea to monitor people, but this could require TONS of time and it would interfere with many regular members schedule. Not to mention that both sides would feel a lack of privacy as well. I don't mind when others want to have conversations or even disagreements, but when it escalates to a point they can't listen to reason, then we have to take action.

Last, but not least: I was also shown/told that The Solars often force Davi and Candler to not be friends with certain people due to these accusations. And many of them are incredibly serious, and shouldn't be taken lightly. Just because some rascals are friends with certain people, doesn't mean that they are the labels that have been put upon them.

It should be made clear that they shouldn't force others to end friendships. The accusations made also lead to them making their own reasons to ban people like Lynn, Davi, Dino, and Diego from the Solars. Its especially important to know that everyone-and I mean everyone-has a right to tell us problems regardless of age difference between members. We need to know about these problems and handle them together.

If we do introduce any new members from the Solars or otherwise, we suggest they work on themselves before inducting anymore members into the group. There are a few nice Solars which are Sean, Mandy, Nuke, Sonic Past Cool, Art Dragon, Clover, and Daniela. And I, nor anyone else has a problem with them. They're perfectly fine.

Sorry for the lengthy post, but this is something I've needed to address for a long time. I'm not personally mad at anyone, or holding a grudge. I'm just kind of disappointed in this coming to light. I can even understand if you're mad at me. I just want my friends to be safe as we work on what we love, either together or apart. We'll get back to the fun stuff (outside of new podcasts releasing and my Wish Rewrite videos) soon enough, we just need to get past this first.

Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry it took me a while to finally address this.

Sincerely, Rascal. 🐶

I think the draft looks good, but I realized I forgot to mention Candler as one of the nicer Solars. Overall, it looks good.

[purplesimme]

23 <3

23. "I didn't say kill him!"

TW: repetitive use of homophobic slurs

With time Wille has gotten better at gaming, all thanks to Simon, who kept pushing him to play TF2 with him even though Wille argued he fucking sucked. Simon didn't give a shit, he just wanted to play with Wille.

One afternoon at Simon's place, as they're sitting on the bed, they join a new lobby in TF2. Both Wille and Simon sporting a headset each, they say hi to the rest of their team as the round begins.

It's all professional gaming and strategy until one of their teammates yells, "Die faggot!" As they kill an opponent.

Simon flinches at the slur, and Wille is shocked into silence.

Wille mutes their mics and says to Simon, "This piece of shit did not just say that."

Simon has to pretend he's not affected by it. "It's fine," he says, though he doesn't believe it himself. "This game is full of assholes like him."

Wille frowns, that's not a valid argument. "He shouldn't be getting away with it."

Then they hear him talk again. "Fuckin' sissy, I'm gonna fucking kill him."

Wille reaches towards the keyboard to unmute their mics, ready to give this homophobic asshole a piece of his mind. But Simon is faster, grabbing Wille's hand before he can do it. "Don't bother," Simon tells him. "Really, it's not worth it. Lets just be done with this round and move on."

Wille isn't convinced at all, almost about to disobey Simon completely. "Fine," he says instead, not wanting to create unnecessary conflict. "But if he says something else--"

"No place for faggots in this game," the asshole says again.

And now even Simon gets fed up. "Okay, maybe someone needs to shut him up."

Wille takes that very literally, taking it as permission to act, going out of his way on the map to find this dude.

"What are you--" Simon begins to ask.

That's when Wille finds him, and immediately opens fire, shooting until his character dies.

Simon is speechless for half a second. "Why did you do that!?"

"You said someone needed to shut him up," is Wille's argument.

"I didn't say kill him!"

Wille gives no fucks. "Someone had to," he says, shrugging.

"Oh my god," one of their remaining alive teammates says. "WilleCP," he continues, refering to Wille's username. "Thanks for that, I was about to do it myself."

Wille quickly unmutes his mic only to say, "No prob." Then mutes it again. The teammate laughs.

Simon just stares at Wille, a big smile slowly appearing on his face. He's so in love, fuck, right now Wille is his knight in shinning armor. He has a feeling this is only the beginning.

Unable to hold back, Simon grabs Wille by the neck to kiss him deeply, game in the background completely forgotten.

"Thank you," Simon tells him sincerely as he pulls back.

Wille looks at him with a frown on his face. "Simon." His tone is so serious Simon is hypnotized. "You deserve better." Simon's heart skips a beat. "Don't let anyone make you think otherwise. I'll always be here if you need me, but know you have the right to stand up for yourself."

Simon kisses him again. "Thank you." Maybe he's getting repetitive.

Wille smiles against Simon's lips. "Do you want to keep playing?" Wille asks, though he's already sure what Simon will answer.

"Nope," he answers. "I wanna take your clothes off."

"Uh," the remaining teammate says. "I think you guys forgot to mute your mics."

They pull back instantly, Wille double checking and, surely, he didn't actually mute their mics when he thought he did.

"Oops," Wille says. Simon's stomach hurts with how hard he's laughing. "Sorry, man."

"Its cool," he says back, a soft giggle following. "Have fun, though. It was fun playing with you."

"Same here," Simon tells him. "Good luck on your next rounds."

Wille disconnects both their games, this time making sure he did so.

"What were we doing?" Simon asks, suggestive smile on his face.

"I was about to do you, actually," Wille answers him.

A shiver goes up Simon's spine. "Yes, please."

So Wille gets a hold of Simon to push him on his back on the bed, controllers falling to the floor, as Wille quickly moves to sit on Simon's hips. "Where should I start?"

"I need to lose the pants, like right now." Wille can feel Simon getting hard underneath him.

So that's where Wille begins.

[phantomoftheorpheum]

I wouldn’t call a black character’s dislike of a creepy racist white guy melodramatic??

Sorry, that was a poor choice of words on my part, I'll own that. I sincerely apologize for any offense I have caused you.

I certainly didn't mean to imply that Christian disliking Wes, knowing what he knows about Wes, is unwarranted. I'm sorry for being careless with how I expressed my speculation.

*this post continues, but I'm editing to add a cut because I forgot to put one initially, and I've been adding this to all my posts with spoiler information for the season.

To clarify, what I mean is that we have not seen Christian interact with Wes all that much, but in the past few episodes a lot of his screen time and dialogue has been devoted to speaking negatively about Wes, specifically to Tabby, which (within the context of a murder mystery/slasher where we know any character could be lying and have ulterior motives, where we also know that conversations and character opinions have points and are included for specific purposes, and new characters are often particularly suspicious) feels like it could be Christian playing into Tabby's established (though entirely justified) feelings towards Wes, in an attempt to divert her suspicion and attention where he wants it to go.

While I would completely understand incredibly negative opinions from any character who we know has interacted a lot with Wes (there's a reason I've brought him up as a terrible person in every analysis I've done, and why he is at the top of my suspect board), and while it is possible we are meant to believe Wes and Christian have had other possibly key interactions at work that helped inform Christian's feelings towards him that we did not get a chance to see, because we've only seen him and Christian in a couple of scenes together, Christian's strong verbal dislike of Wes feels like it might not be so much a result exclusively of his negative experiences with him, but rather that it could be intentionally leading and playing into what Tabby already feels (or even a combination of those things).

This, along with how little suspicion Christian has seemed to garner from the girls, the fact that he is knowledgable about horror special effects, the theory that someone is making a movie, and the fact that the show is drawing attention to Wes now (instead of trying to hide him until the final episode, so I question whether that might mean someone is setting his character up to take the fall for things), are all just factors in why I was speculating that Christian's comments about Wes could be more than just his character seeing Wes for who he is, which is what I intended to point out. And there are a million other things that might point to someone else entirely. I certainly did not mean to imply that I think anything about Wes is appropriate, or that Christian's negative opinion of him is unwarranted. I was attempting (but clearly poorly, so I do absolutely apologize for that) to analyze this dialogue and writing choice with this character behavior from the standpoint of "is it possible we will look back at this behavior and realize it was a clue to where things were going?"

Clarification aside, as I have clearly caused offense, I will go back and attempt to to re-word that post in a better way. Sorry to anyone I hurt with that phrasing.

edit: I forgot to say that I appreciate you bringing your concerns about my use of language to me. I know it can be hard to speak up, and I will always appreciate people who are willing to point stuff like this out.

[nickyroethemarinebiologist]

Hey...I bring offerings (looks at you with my big sad eyes). Of cowboys. I forgot about this for a hot minute BUT I'm back and they're back and we're so fucking back baby. I don't know what to write in these bits anyways let's GO

* * *

Chapter Four, "Bite The Bullet"

“I’m afraid I cannot help you, sir,” The old fellow said, scratching at his chin as he handed the poster back over to Amos, “Don’t think he’s ever passed through here, though I’m sure I would have noticed if he had. Sounds a fancy bloke.”

Amos frowned. This was the third town he had passed through, and so far he was yet to find anyone who recognised Edward Jensen, or could give him an answer other than unhelpfully vague directions. He was beginning to consider giving up on the man entirely, but he could not bear to return home empty-handed, and the man he had sat with on that first night was sure to have something to say about it, though likely not a meek complaint, or conversation of any sorts.

Amos felt his brow furrow at the thought, but caught himself in the moment and forced his face to relax, offering the old man as pleasant an expression as he could muster.

“Very helpful,” He said, and nodded afterwards in an attempt to make the sentiment feel more sincere, “But if you do see anything—”

“I’ll be sure to call it in, have no doubt about that,” The man said with a smile, showing off the gaps in his teeth. Amos held himself from stepping back, and shook the man’s hand politely.

“Yes. Thank you,” He said.

Once he was away, and the man had firmly shut his door, Amos issued a sigh that was closer to a groan, wiping his hands first on his shirt and then across his face, though he did not feel tired.

He thumbed the wanted poster in his hand, absently turning it over and folding the edges over his thumb. He had looked at it enough times now to read the words by heart, and could remember the face of Jensen himself well enough to hold it alongside the list of his crimes, though he did have to admit, the drawing itself looked more ghoulish than the real man ever had, at any moment.

The ink smudged under his thumb somewhat, making a number of the words wholly unreadable and pushing Jensen’s features into one another, though it did little to distract from the poster itself; the whole thing was looking rather worse for wear, having been in Amos’ pocket for a majority of it’s trip, and it felt as though it might rip apart in his hands. Amos was not worried — he might always find another; the rumour of McKinley’s murder was spreading fast — but he felt some inexplicable disappointment at the sorry look of Jensen’s poster. Amos frowned, and folded it back into the front pocket of his waistcoat.

He had found Edward Jensen first to be quite odd, then entirely puzzling, and then infuriatingly lucky, at the unfortunate expense of Amos himself. The man seemed entirely incapable of keeping himself alive for more than a day, yet still he had managed to slip from Amos’ reach, on a stolen horse, no less.

To be foiled in such a way was not a new experience, but an unpleasant one; Amos had hoped the job would be quick, but was now forced to turn to the local folk for help, and he could only admit he had little interest in people, at the best of times. More dreadful, though, was the moment directly after Jensen’s escape, when Amos was forced to deal with the man who owned the land. He had told Amos, very loudly, and many times over, that he would be expecting his compensation in the post, or his horse returned shortly. Amos had managed to calm him only by offering a short fund upfront, taken right out of his pay for Jensen’s reward, and was finally able to send him away, what must have been hours later.

He had stopped immediately afterwards in the same hotel that Jensen had apparently been staying in; he had a short conversation with the man at the desk, and offered him his thanks for the help in Jensen’s capture. The man made a polite comment in return, and was very sorry to hear that Jensen had escaped so easily, and Amos found himself with a room for the night, at nearly half what he would have usually paid.

The trip to the next town took several hours, and afforded him a little leisure, though he would have hoped for something to make the journey less tedious. He arrived at midday, and left shortly afterwards, once the townsfolk had proved themselves to be wholly unhelpful for him.

Now, he was beginning to think the whole thing rather hopeless; he had not begun the trip with good faith, and on more than one occasion he found himself considering a trip home, though he did not usually think himself so easily defeated. But he was not quite ready to give up, and knew that if he did he would never be able to let himself be free of it, so he turned for town square; he was more likely to spot Jensen there, and on the chance he didn’t he might at least be able to find  a moment of rest.

The square was more crowded than he would have liked, but he found his way to the nearest bar he could find. He was not at all hungry, for he had eaten on the journey into town, but thought it would at least be a good place to stop for the moment; he would be relatively out of the way, and might blend in much more than he did on the streets, so at the very least he would be able to observe the townsfolk for a small while, and if he was lucky, find some sort of clue to Jensen’s whereabouts.

The bar went quiet when he entered, and a large part of those at tables paused to look to the door; he took no notice of it, and said nothing, making immediately for an open seat, in the farthest corner from the door. The townsfolk, apparently having decided he was of no interest, dropped their heads and resumed their conversations, and the noise started up again immediately.

Though there was one man in particular, who had not moved at all, except to make anxious glances over his shoulder. He would not have stood out so much if he had followed the rest of the crowd, and Amos might never have noticed him, but now he paused at his seat, and narrowed his eyes.

Edward Jensen was wholly unaware of his surroundings, or so it seemed; Amos crossed the bar and slipped into the seat across from him, and though he did not make much of a fuss, he was far from silent, and he was somewhat surprised to that the man paid him no attention. His surprise passed quickly when the moment dragged on, and impatience quickly followed; Amos frowned, and coughed pointedly, tapping one finger twice on the table to catch the man’s attention.

Jensen paused over his food, looking as though he was scared even to look up. He dropped his spoon — Amos felt his mouth twitch at the unpleasant sound — and then swallowed nervously, and looked up from his plate.

“Ah.” He said, though he sounded disappointed rather than surprised. Amos gave him an odd look. “Um.”

“Um?” Amos said in return, and raised his brow. He would not like to admit it, but he had expected somewhat more of a reaction. But Jensen looked only uncomfortable, and quite unhappy, rather than the shock or defiance he was accustomed to.

“…Good morning?”

It was here that Amos found himself wholly at a loss for words; the man had been infuriatingly polite when he had met him, and then even during his escape he had not dared utter a word against him, but even Amos would never expect such a greeting from any man with an ounce of self-preservation, much less a wanted criminal.

Still, he would not let it distract him, and made a point not to return Jensen’s odd attempt at a polite smile. “It’s well past midday,” He said, and then made a grab for him across the table. He caught Jensen on the collar of his shirt; Jensen made a frightened sound, and tried to pull himself away, without much success. Amos had him held quite surely, but now he found himself with another problem: he could not apprehend Jensen from across the table without letting him go entirely. Jensen seemed to have noticed this also; he stopped struggling for a brief moment and looked at Amos with obvious worry in his expression , as though he was waiting for him to make a move. Amos cursed his own impatience, and let Jensen go, roughly shoving him against his chair.

He was after him immediately, but now Jensen had been offered a chance, and as Amos came towards him he stepped out and skirted around the other side of the table, leaving them at much the same position again. Amos scowled, Jensen gave him a helpless expression in return, but when Amos tried to make another grab for him he only stepped sideways, hastily throwing his hands up at his sides to keep them away from his reach.

Amos frowned. He found himself becoming suddenly angry; the morning had left him already quite irritated, and his frustration now only mounted upon his rising outrage.

“You witless pest,” He spat, at which Jensen made a face that was amusingly offended.

“I beg your pardon?” Jensen said, and then turned and fled across the bar when Amos made another grab for him.

The townsfolk had begun to notice their tussle at the table, in a somewhat delayed reaction, by Amos’ own standards, considering Jensen had been hopping around the table for much longer than they seemed to have realised. He could only dread to think what they had grown accustomed to, though put the thought aside, and ignored the many shouts of protest when he dove between the tables.

Jensen had, foolishly, backed himself into a corner, and was looking helplessly between the men at the nearest tables, who could only offer up a look of confusion. Amos saw his chance; he made another grab for him, but met instead with a stranger’s shoulder — the man pulled his chair in without so much as a glance in Amos’ direction, looking wholly sheepish, and doing an awful job at hiding his intents. Jensen fled for the cover of another table, Amos could not stop to voice his frustrations, likely through threats rather than his words, and was again forced to follow, though he was beginning to feel much like a cat after a mouse, if the cat had very little sleep, and the mouse was a creature with a maddening amount of dumb luck.

Jensen skipped out from his reach, pausing across the table, and they found themselves in much the same position as they had begun with.

Amos felt his jaw clench, in an attempt to compose himself. Jensen only watched, and waited.

“Edward Jensen,” Amos said, finally, forcing himself to relax. He had dealt with men such as Jensen before — though not usually in a situation such as this ­— and though he knew it would only build upon his outrage, he knew Jensen would not be able to resist a well-mannered greeting, and consoled himself with the thought that he might turn the tables in his favour.

Jensen watched him, curiously. “Amos?”

“Frank,” He said in return, though felt his throat itch uncomfortably. “Frank. Amos. Listen. We might find a way to talk this out.”

Giving up his name so easily to a man close to a stranger felt almost foolish enough to surrender immediately, and return to the game of cat-and-mouse across the bar. But his efforts were quickly rewarded: Jensen visibly relaxed, and levelled him with a look just short of kind. Amos could only wonder if he really was as foolish as he seemed, or if he was hiding his own intentions — perhaps they both had much the same idea.

Still he sighed, and gave a pleasant smile.

“There’s a wagon outside. Down the road, waiting for me. Us,” He said, very seriously. Jensen watched him closely. “Your bags, and their contents—I took them from your room. They’re there for you. If you…might come with me,” He felt his mouth twitch, but held his smile, as genuine as he could manage. “I’m sure I could find you someone to talk to. Get you your stuff back, sort this all out.”

“Oh, really?” Jensen said, with great relief. He was somewhat surprised at the man’s apparent kindness; he had left a lot of his clothes in that bag, and a good deal of his money also, and found himself largely considering Amos’ offer.

“No, you idiot.”

Amos could not hide his frustration any longer; he abandoned his plan, if it could be called that, and went immediately for another grab at Jensen’s coat. Jensen gaped at him and skirted away, fleeing through the door, and Amos could only curse his own impatience, for what must have been the hundredth time that day.

He was after him at once, and caught up easily, taking hold of his stupidly long coat. A moment of wild grappling, and then they went to the ground in a heap, Jensen with his face in the dirt and Amos struggling in the fall to keep a hold on him.

Jensen shrieked in horror and flailed blindly in an attempt to defend himself, which would not usually have proved at all helpful, if Amos was not entirely unprepared. He failed to dodge a flailing arm, which earned him a slap to the face, and though he tried to keep Jensen from fleeing, the man seemed wholly impossible to restrain — he wriggled out from Amos’ hold, apparently with only his rising panic to his advantage, and Amos could only hope to shield himself until he was away.

Jensen had hardly made three steps before Amos pulled his gun from his belt, and stood, pointing it surely at Jensen’s head.

“Stop!”

Jensen paused. Amos took the moment to catch his breath, and Jensen seemed to follow; his chest heaved with his every breath, and slowly, he raised his arms.

Neither dared make the first move. Amos watched the man closely, every nervous twitch of his hand, mirrored in his own finger, settled quite comfortably on the trigger of his gun. Jensen stared in open fear, at the gun as much as Amos himself, and Amos could not help but feel a quiet bloom of triumph settle in his chest.

Finally Jensen spoke, infuriatingly slow in his words;

“If I am to go with you, would you still kill me?”

Amos paused, lowered his arm. He was itching to use his gun; he rubbed his thumb against it, and tapped it loosely against his leg, as though agitated. He weighed the options in his mind, frowning at Jensen in open frustration, and finally said, in a voice that suggested he did not fully believe his own words; “...I won’t kill you.”

“Ah,” Jensen said, pleasantly. “Well, that’s perfectly splendid then.”

He offered a hand; Amos shook it, with measurable reluctance, though if Jensen noticed he did not say a word. Amos frowned, and was wholly unprepared when Jensen took his hand in a fist and struck him across the face.

Amos stumbled and groaned about the pain, while Jensen made no other move, looking as surprised as Amos felt. He cradled his face, already growing sore, and fixed the man with a look of confusion as much as shock, for a moment wholly at a loss for words.

“You punched me!”

“Right! Yes, sorry!” Jensen said, and then struck him again.

There was not such force to knock him to the floor, still Amos stumbled in his bewilderment, blotting blood from his nose. Coughing, he caught only a glimpse of motion, and then Jensen was away. He had taken the little chance he had and fled.

Dazed, Amos could only groan, taking a moment to gather himself; only as much as he would allow, and then he took up his gun and set after Jensen immediately, stumbling briefly but keeping his footing.

Jensen ran for the edge of town, feeling very much like he might collapse at any moment. By some strike of luck Amos was able to keep him in his sights, though was nearly tripping in the dirt and narrowly avoided falling over himself entirely. Jensen should not have been so hard to catch, which was ever clearer now that Amos could see him running; he looked as though he might stumble at any moment, and he spent much of his time looking over his shoulder. But Amos was not far behind now, Jensen must have noticed; he flung himself around a corner, into a back street, which led nowhere, but the farthest edge of town.

Amos recognised the turn of the street, and realised he meant to make for the train station. The prospect served to spur him on — if Jensen reached his train, there would be little hope of catching up before he managed to disappear entirely, and less still of ever finding him again. But his fears were quickly realised; he turned the corner, and caught the station in his sights, with the train sitting idle, ready to gather itself and set out over the tracks.

A whistle sounded; the train moved off. Jensen reached the platform and nearly tripped up the stairs in panic, leaving Amos to follow while the train seemed about to leave at any moment. His legs were aching, as was his injury, but he had the man in his sights; Jensen called for the train to hold, reaching for the carriages, and abruptly Amos was there, pulling him to the floor.

They thumped heavily to the platform, and rolled about on the ground, battering at each other awkwardly. Amos had a hold on Jensen’s arm, though Jensen scrambled and made himself infuriatingly hard to keep a hold of. The train had long passed the platform, there was no hope of catching it, still Jensen fought until he was free and ran to the edge, clutching one of the wooden posts that held the roof, as though he might collapse at any moment.

Amos paused in chasing him, now suddenly offered the moment to rest. He lay flat on his back and panted, not caring for Jensen more than the ache in his limbs, and the pain at his face. He groaned, and sat up, preparing to set off in pursuit again, though caught himself only stopped to watch Jensen, still and leaning at the post, watching the train retreat over the horizon.

Amos watched him for the moment; he felt an odd sort of pity at the man’s sorry frame, hunched over himself, looking as though he were as tired as Amos felt himself, and perhaps more. He frowned, and went to stand, but the motion only served to free Jensen from his own thoughts; he turned to Amos with a helpless expression.

“Oh, lord, you’re bleeding,” He said, sounding a little uncertain.

Amos blinked and looked down at himself; he had not even noticed that his shirt was spattered with flecks of his blood. He ran a hand over his face, which did nothing much but wipe blood onto his fingers. He looked up at Jensen; the man was watching him carefully, as though he might pounce on him at any moment. “Yes,” He said, “You punched me.”

Jensen nodded; he looked suddenly guilty. “Yes. I did,” He said. “I’m terribly sorry,” He added.

Amos fixed him with a narrow-eyed look, but found he could not in the moment bring himself to insult the man. Now that it had been brought to mind, the sensation of dust and blood was unpleasant upon his skin; he turned from Jensen and set instead to wiping at his face with his sleeves, though kept a sharp eye in case he tried to make a move.

But Jensen did nothing but watch, very quietly, apparently having given up on the idea of escape entirely.

“I suppose that’ll be it, for me?” He said at last, “End of the line.”

Amos looked over at him. Jensen made an odd sort of motion, as though startled; Amos was suddenly aware that he must have been presenting a rather horrible picture to the world — he was not wholly sure his face had entirely been cleaned of blood, and the ends of his sleeves were beginning to look similarly unpleasant. But Jensen did not seem afraid as much as sad; Amos gave him a curious look.

“You killed a man.”

Jensen blinked, looking suddenly pitiful. “No, I promise you. I didn’t,”

Here Amos paused. “You did,” He said slowly, brow furrowing. To be told such a thing was not strange, many men before had tried the same trick, and though Jensen looked truly miserable, and far from smart enough to try such a foolish trick, Amos would not let himself be swayed. “You shot him.”

“No, no, I would never!” Jensen said, sounding truly upset. “He was a good fellow. A very good man, a wonderful man. I would never,” He added.

For a brief moment, there was an odd expression in his face; Amos noted the shine in his eyes, and the strain on his lips, as though he was holding himself carefully, else he might collapse.

But there was little time to dwell on it; in that moment, the tracks sounded with a low, steady rumble, and another train came fast approaching, with seemingly no apparent intent to stop. Amos turned, and marked the hopeful look of Jensen’s expression.

“Don’t,” He said, low and sharp. He was only half the way up from the floor, and held himself in a crouch, though his legs ached the moment he made a move. “Not a move, not at all.”

But Jensen had found his chance; the train pulled to the station and pressed on, and he was away before Amos could take hold of him, chasing for the train as though his very life depended on it.

First / Previous / Next

[hoonvrs]

Dear Saint, June 1st, 2023

Hello, it's 🧸

I almost forgot I sent an ask. I don't remember who I sent asks to 😭 to be honest. It has been quite a long time since I sent an ask.. How have you been? I have been doing okay.

A lot happened in the past few days. Like one after another. Especially last Thursday. I heard bad news from my relatives. It was a huge unexpected event. This relative is doing okay now. I don't know if I should say it. (a warning, mentioning disease) So I just say they have the disease.

Other than that, I had to move accounts because I felt uncomfortable and unsafe in my old account. The reason is that this one person made me feel that way. It's kind of a dumb reason, but my anxiety was horrible, and I couldn't go on Tumblr without being scared. Honestly, I thought I was doing better, but every time, they appeared and talked to me. I started to shake a bit. Also, they remind me of my ex-friend...

So I moved to a new account and blocked them. I think they somehow found my new account and found out I blocked them. So they blocked my old account... it's kind of scary, to be honest.

I apologize if these events trigger you and apologize for rambling/ranting... Besides those events, my birthday is coming soon. I will be one year older 😭. You're an 04 liner, right? If so, I'm the same year as you. I hope you have/had a great day! Take care!

Sincerely,

🧸

hi teddy! glad ur back 🫶🏼

sorry to hear about ur relative☹️ hopefully they get better soon

no one should feel uncomfortable on their own acc so i’m glad ur moving someplace you’ll be more comfortable and if it’s someone online that’s making you feel that way you can always block them you don’t owe anyone an explanation

don’t worry about ranting here idm !

but yes i’m an 04 liner! happy early birthday hope you have a good day🤍

[littledogpoo]

Now... where do I begin? It's an entry that I've dragged so long to even start writing because: A. procrastination, B. I've just been trying hard to cheer myself up and survive in this uncomfortable environment and C. sort out my feelings & thoughts. Even as I write now, I might be still struggling to piece them together... so, all the best to me later haha! (Going for dinner in a bit, will come back to finish this up!)

So it took a little longer than expected, I'm actually just back from a family trip to Malaysia. My soul felt recharged after the trip and I literally forgot about this problem for a while, until now when I'm forced to face it again. I'm feeling like there's a chore in my mind that's undone and everything else was held back because this chore is weighing so heavily on me that I don't have the motivation for anything else. Just been constantly seeking for stimulation to distract me.

(I'm just gonna skip everything, about what has happened, to how I'm feeling after that.)

I don't feel the cocktail of feelings as strongly now. It's still mixed feelings but more diluted, but I can still feel them there.

I'm feeling sad – because I felt unwanted now I guess. I told her to stop asking me if I'm coming home for dinner, if I'm coming back home, etc and that's exactly what she did. Of course it was said out of spite, but how do I tell her that I wish she did the opposite? I wish she's acting like a caring mother? My ego is telling me I don't need her but at the same time I wanna tell her how is she hurting me.

I'm feeling angry – this one is easy to explain because I'm basically unappreciated and scoffed for helping her. I've done so much and under so much stress and what do I get? I don't expect much – basic gratitude sure just bcos that's manners – I just need her to stay out of trouble and cooperate so she can keep this up long term. But she's making this difficult for me and worst of all, giving me shit for my sincere effort to help her.

I then feel disappointed – like after all the talks and explanation, do you really understand you need help? Do you really think what you're doing is affecting all of us? Are you really sorry for doing all that shit? Or are you just a psychopathic, selfish person who is not capable of feeling sorry for anyone except for yourself? Do you hate us for being happier than you? Do you feel better that we are suffering with you?

I feel helpless – I don't know how to communicate with her so that she can get it, that whatever I'm doing, as uncomfortable to her as it is, is an effort to help her. I don't know how else to do it except to ask my bro, who recently has a new daughter to take over my responsibility to manage her lifestyle. I don't know if our relationship can still be repaired, or if she's okay with the status quo and so nothing else has to be done? I wanna ask her if she finds our relationship good or if she thinks anything's wrong? How do I get her to understand that her actions are driving me crazy?? I'm pretty sure she's going to say that she's upset because my temper is bad and I can't talk to her nicely. How do I get her to understand that I've tried so hard to talk to her nicely but her avoidant attitude is driving people nuts? Who the fk can stand someone who ignores you when you are telling them how upset you are?

I'm afraid I'll be re-triggered again if I were to start this talk. After such a long time, I would've expected that she's put in some thought and reflected but what if her mind is stuck in that day? Could she still be thinking that I was overreacting and it was stupid for me to control her finance? (SIDE THOUGHT: perhaps the more patient one can do the ground work and the stricter one can step in when shit might be hitting the fan soon?)

I have to be prepared for disappointment. I have to be prepared to let go if she wants me to keep this distance. No matter what, please keep my cool and know that no matter what, you can see J at the end of the day if you want to. Bali trip is coming okay just stay positive!!

[sketchguk]

Hi, friends! I can honestly say that I’ve been on Tumblr for about 9 years, but only 7 of those months have been spent on this account. Being a part of this fandom means so much to me, and as cheesy as it may be, I’ve never felt so much love from a community like this. I think that I should spread a little love back to everyone through this festive follow forever post in the spirit of the holidays (there’s also a message for my beautiful followers at the very end, so bear with me). Although I may have not spoken to you all personally, you’ve made my experience here amazing!! Whether it’s seeing you on my dash or in my inbox, you’ve all made me smile one way or another!! I’ll admit right now that I’ve sent so many anonymous messages to you all because I’m really shy, haha. Not to mention, I follow so many amazing content creators, gif/gfx makers and fic writers alike, and I want to make you smile as much as you have made me!! Y’all are so lovely, and I’m not totally sure why anyone chooses to interact with me or to follow me nonetheless. Maybe you’ve read a fic of mine, or none at all, I appreciate you all the same 💕 I know some of you may be in and out of hiatus, but just know that I’m thinking of you!! And if this is the first time you’re coming across my blog, I guess this is a good time to introduce myself. Hi, I’m Teresa. It’s nice to meet you 😄

If you’re reading this, hopefully we can chat a little more. I would love to get to know such lovely people 😊  To my beautiful mutuals, I love you all sooo much 💓 I’m not the best at expressing my feelings, but I hope that this is a start! @190713 @95swifi ✩ @alwayschoosechocolate ✩ @aureumjeon ✩ @beebopboobop ✩ @boobearcupcake ✩ @btsaremyfaves ✩ @btssmutheaven ✩ @bwiq ✩ @engeljimin ✩ @ddaengwrld ✩ @emiyooa ✩ @geniuslab 💌 ✩ @gimmeyoon (@gimmeyoon-main) ✩ @girlwiththespecs ✩ @gukgalore ✩ @gukkheaven ✩ @guktwt ✩ @hobimygs​ ✩ @hoseoknysus ✩ @idiotscalledfriends ✩ @joonary ✩ @kitsutaes (@geniusguk) 💌 ✩ @littlemisskookie ✩ @llsanjoonie ✩ @lovehrs ✩ @magicshop-myg ✩ @map-of-yoongi ✩ @maptoyoongi ✩ @mercurygguk ✩ @minflix ✩ @minlexia ✩ @minyoongsueit ✩ @mygsii ✩ @outroguks ✩ @pjmskosmos ✩ @sdmnluv ✩ @softaellie ✩ @spookitokki (@spookitokkimain) ✩ @starrytete 💌 ✩ @syugasshi ✩ @taesseok 💌 ✩ @tokyoscript ✩ @ve1vetyoongi ✩ @vminary 💌 ✩ @vtbts ✩ @vxngguk ✩ @wthkook ✩ @yourdelights 💌 If your url is bolded, scroll down for some words of affirmation. ✨ If you have an emoji (💌) next to your url, scroll down for a special message. 😇🌟  And here’s a shoutout to some of my favorite fic writers, because you all allow me escape to my happy place !! Thank you so much for contributing to the writing community !! This online space is pretty hectic, especially as of late, but you all make it worth it. Even if you’re taking a break from writing, I am here cheering you on !! And to let you know that I’ll support you no matter what. I hope you never lose your spark for passion and creativity !! Sometimes life gets the best of us, and other times, things are not in our control, but I want to send my love and appreciation to you nevertheless. Your fics have inspired me to try my own hand at writing, and I’m forever grateful ✨ You’re spectacular, every single one of you, so never forget that! Kpop isn’t that serious, but I’ll probably think about your fics until the day I die. @bymoonchild ✩ @floralseokjin ✩ @foreverpark ✩ @geniuslab ✩ @gimmeyoon ✩ @gukgalore ✩ @gukkheaven ✩ @guktwt ✩ @jamaisjoons ✩ @gukyi ✩ @kookswife ✩ @kinktae ✩ @kpopfanfictrash ✩ @minflix ✩ @mygsii ✩ @personasintro​ ✩ @prolixitae ✩ @readyplayerhobi ✩ @spookitokki ​ ✩ @ubemango ✩ @ve1vetyoongi (yee, you might see some repeats because my moots are super talented) 💖  A love letter from me to you: 💌 @geniuslab Megan !! This might sound soo sappy, but you’re the very first person I followed when I made this blog !! It’s because I’ve read all of your fics (perhaps more than once on my old account), and you inspired me to start writing as well. You have no idea how happy I was when you said you would get back into writing fics. I guess I’ll expose myself right now, but I’ve sent a few anons to you on the matter haha (yes, I am a 7 Chances enthusiast, one of many). You’re so talented, and I admire you so much 🥺 A gif maker and fic writer ?? Nothing you can’t do !! Among other things, you’re such a kind-hearted individual. I’ve read plenty of your text posts, and there’s just something so warm about the way you carry yourself. You deserve the world, and I wish for nothing but the best for you !! I hope you have an amazing new year and that you have space for peace, love, and healing. Please know that I support you through and through, and that you are well-loved ❣️

💌 @kitsutaes (@geniusguk) Yas !! I know we just started chatting, but I love getting to know you !! It’s hard for me to reach out to people because I’m shy, but I’m really grateful that you hit me up 😊 It’s been so nice getting to know you, and I hope we can get closer 💕 I’m already learning so much about you because our chats just flow from one topic to another !! You said you wanna visit new york one day, so I’ll hold you to that 😉 I’ll be your tour guide, and the only exchange I’ll ever need is your friendship !! Some dried mangoes would be nice too 😚 haha jk … unless 😳 I hope you have an amazing year filled with lots and lots of love. May you receive everything you’re wishing for !! 

💌 @starrytete Mirelle !! I’m still getting used to your new url LOL. But how could I ever forget you?? You are quite literally the human embodiment of an angel. You’re always spreading positivity, and I adore you with all my heart. I wish that I could be as radiant as you !! All the emojis that I’m using in this post?? An homage to you 🌼☀️ I don’t think I can ever look at emojis the same way thanks to you haha. Sending you lots of love!! I hope we can speak more in the future!! May the new year bring you happiness and good fortune!! Please take care of yourself, ok?! Message me whenever because my inbox is always open 🥰 

💌 @taesseok Mia !! I just love seeing you on my dash. I’ll give you a quick run down: Teresa: :[ Mia: *posts* Teresa: :] It’s like the universe knows. You’re a light in this world, and I hope you never lose your spark !! May you smile as often as I do (all thanks to you) 💗 I wish for nothing but your happiness since you deserve it and more. In fact, it’s the world that doesn’t deserve you and your sparkle !! I hope this year was rewarding for you, but I already know that 2020 will be better and better. I’ll be sending you lots of positive energy for the new year hehe 💞 Hopefully we can talk more soon !! I’d love to be friends !!

💌 @vminary Kiara !! I’m so happy that you reached out to me all those months ago because you’ve become one of my closest online friends !! I can’t tell you how much you mean to me because the limit does not exist. It’s so easy to talk to you, and sometimes our conversations are big sis/lil sis -esque (I’ve always wanted a sister lol 🐣). I feel as if we’ve taught one another so much, especially because of our cultural differences and the tiny age gap that we share. I find myself missing you because of the time zones LOL. In the middle of the day, I’m wondering whether or not you’re sleeping well :’) Why do you have to live across the world?? 😔 I would totally send you a package if I wasn’t broke haha. I’m sending you all my love here though, and I hope that’s enough !! 💛

💌 @yourdelights Destinee !! You are SUCH a sweetheart. The messages that you send me are so kind, and I don’t know what I did to deserve you. Do let me know how you stumbled across my blog because I feel like you’re way too cool for me LOL. Your posts are always so hilarious, and the tags have me dying. Your sense of humor >> !! My love for you is immeasurable, and I hope you know that, ahh. I think it was truly solidified when I found out you’re a fan of day6 and the rose :’) I’m not really a multi-stan, but from that moment on, I was sold. That was the only time my instincts did not let me down 🌹💝 I swear I’m getting introduced to new fandoms because of you haha. And when you went on a lil hiatus, I really missed seeing you on my dash !! I hope that you’ll be with us for a long time though !! I really can’t wait for what’s in store for next year, because no pressure or anything, but I’m sincerely excited for your WIPs hehe. I’m rooting for ya, so make sure you make the new year your b*tch !!  Lastly, thank you so much to my followers !! I see y’all in my activity, and I wanna let you know that I love you from the bottom of my heart !! At this point, I’m more of an update blog than a fanfic blog LOL :’) And if you follow me because you’ve stumbled through my fics, I just want to say 🤯 what?! It blows my mind that anyone reads my work, let alone enjoys it. I never would have though that I’d find solace in reading and writing considering I’m a full on STEM nerd. In conjunction with that, I literally started writing fiction 7 months ago to this day. I didn’t even realize that it would lead me to such amazing connections. With so many lovely people, popping in and out of my dashboard, inbox/DMs, and activity page, my heart b u r s t s with love!! Your interactions mean the world to me, even the most minute things like reblogs make my heart flutter. I really do check the reblogs to see if anyone has left a tag. Single words and keyboard smashes mean the world to me too !! Before I was a fic writer, I was just a silent reader. I always admired writers for the worlds they craft, the characters they develop, and the plots they devise, all for it to come together in one cohesive work of literature. Now that I have a vague understanding of what that’s like, I know that it’s nothing short of strenuous. Words are so powerful, and although I’m a really sensitive sap, I’ve read so many things that hit me to the core, and now I’m sure to tell the authors how much I enjoy their fics. If they went through hours (perhaps days/weeks/months) of drafting, writing, editing, and formatting, a quick comment from the reader really doesn’t hurt !! It’s the most rewarding thing a writer could ever ask for. As an amateur author myself, being on the receiving end is the thing that keeps me going !! I promise you, I don’t take any of it for granted. Your words seriously resonate with me, and it’s a huge motivator for me !! I hope that in the new year, I can work on new pieces for you all (as much as I don’t want to make up excuses, juggling life is not easy as a student!!) I always say that I write for myself, and as true as that is, I want to share my stories with you lovely people !! I pour my heart and soul into my work, and the build up of excitement is nothing if it means I can’t share it with someone else. So, old supporters, new supporters, look out for new content in the future. I hope you’re as excited as I am for the new year!! Please take care, y’all, and remember that I love you. My inbox is always open 💌 So let’s be friends 😇

[lxvebun]

heart-shaped kisses, genshin pt IV

buns notes:specially made for @pyroxeene<3 ily

Content : Dottore/Pantalone x gender neutral reader. Fluff. They are both a little lovesick. Kissing of course. Mentions of human test subjects. Little mention of implied violence in the end (not towards reader) english is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes. I have no idea how to write for these men but I hope you like it anyway. Not completely proofread

Dark blogs and consumers, touch this and I will actually knock your teeth in. Do not interact.

All heart-shaped kisses fics (multifandom)

Dottore

Oh, archons he can't get enough of you. You're doomed (affectionately) after your first kiss. Before you came along, he truly despised love. It's one of the strongest destroyers of someone's cognitive abilities. A disease that slowly consumes every part of your mind and soul. A disease without a cure. Even so, people still desperately seek it out and want to be infected with it. He's done some research on it, studied people up close who were lovesick, and performed multiple experiments to see if there was a cure. And while some subjects completely forgot about a loved one, the moment they saw their face again the love persisted, and not long after the memories would return.

Oh well, with the knowledge he has about love, surely it would never become a problem for him?

I thought you asked me here to come to help you? You breathed after breaking the kiss. Much to Dottore's dismay may I add.

"You are helping my dear" He whispered against your lips, Grabbing your hand and pulling to his chest "can you feel that? The way my heart is beating? It only beats like this with you. More so after I've indulged in your kisses. I'm just trying to find out why" He doesn't wait for a response before his lips find yours again.

You're making his heart flutter like it's never done before. It's fascinating how one kiss from you can make him feel completely euphoric and lovesick....You did it, He's become lovesick and he sincerely hopes that there will never be a cure for it

Pantalone:

He's nothing short of protective of what is his. After all his hard work, all the blood sweat, and tears he's lost trying and succeeding in building his fortune, he's not going to let someone steal it away. Any that tried gave themselves a one-way ticket to becoming one of II Dottore's new test subjects, a terrible destination truly but alas he doesn't do well with thieves.

And still, here you are, stealing his affections and his heart and he's letting you, encouraging you even. And somehow you're still unaware of how much power you hold over him.

He sees it as the highest form of privilege to just be in your presence, to look at you, to hold you and archons to kiss you. Your kisses make him a little bit foggy in his head, all the stress leaves his body and all he can think of is you. It's a miracle his pupils haven't turned into little hearts already. Your kisses are sweeter than the most expensive sunsettias and even softer than the finest silk.

You're the most precious person in the world to him. The only way he'll let you go is when you decide to leave. If anyone tries to take you away from him, well they won't only have Dottore to deal with

Thank you for reading bunnies!

[hughiecampbelle]

Imagine Marcus distracting you so your friends can set up your surprise party: 🎂

"What is this really about?"

"Can't two friends hang out and explore the city?" Marcus was stalling. It shouldn't have lasted this long. Saya should have called him by now, insisting they be there soon, that everything was all ready. But he didn't get that call. He had no idea that while you and him sat outside the coffee shop, people witching, trying to get you to talk about anything else other than the homework that waited for you, all hell was breaking lose Billy was in charge of the balloons, Maria had the cake, Willie had your giant card and gift from all of them. But, the cake wasn't ready, Billy had let go of half the balloons, the Legacies had taken over the roof where they'd planned to celebrate. Nothing was going how anyone planned. Things were going wrong before they even began.

"Not when I know you're hiding something. Can I at least go back to my room?" He always got that look when he was lying. Marcus didn't realize it, but you knew. You just wanted to go back, finish your work, and pretend this day never happened. You weren't expecting anything big, a cars maybe, at least someone to remember. It was your birthday after all, and yet it seemed like none of your friends remembered. You even thought they were avoiding you, Lex hiding in the dining hall when you thought you saw him. They couldn't even sit with you. Then, out of nowhere, Marcus insisted you go out, explore the city you knew like the back of your hand. You thought he might've remembered, but you weren't going to bring it up yourself. If he forgot, he forgot.

"And ruin our fun? No way." He tried to smile, act natural, but underneath he was panicking. The surprise party had been his idea. He'd be to blame if something went wrong, if things were ruined. All he wanted was to see look on your face, the joy and shock when everyone popped out with all the decorations and lit candles. He'd been planning this forever, from the second he heard when your birthday was. It wouldn't be right to skip a surprise party. Next year he'd do whatever you wanted, but it was tradition to scare the victim on their birthday, leave them speechless. He could still remember the way Saya swore at all them on her birthday. He wanted that same reaction from you on your day.

@cactiem ~ Em!!!! I am so, so, so sorry this is late my love!!! I sincerely hope you can forgive me!!!! I hope you had the best birthday yet my dude, and that it started a wonderful new year that is so full of happiness and joy. Every time I see your icon pop up I know I'm going to be blown away by your writing. You're always spreading as much love as possible to everyone you care about, I hope the universe can repay you in that thoughtfulness 💌 You 1000% deserve it!!! Xoxoxo💜💖🎂💜💖🎂💜💖🎂

[celsidebottom]

11 in the h/c prompts part 2 for zoscar?

11: “I need you to breathe for me. Slowly – in and out.”

I'm so sorry that this took me twelve years to do. I wrote it right away, then forgot to post it, and then my computer stopped working SO here we are

Set during the 18 month time skip

How did they find them? Their hideout was secure for so long, and they took every precaution to keep themselves hidden from the forces of the blue veins. Had their enemies managed to infiltrate the local Harlequins despite their efforts?

At the moment, though, it didn’t matter. They were under attack, and Zolf was busy dispatching their enemies, glaive spinning in dizzying patterns to dissuade anyone from invading their base or harming his friends. The attack came on so suddenly that didn’t have time to put on their armor and only barely had the chance to grab the weapons that so rarely left their sides.

He gave a finishing stab to one downed attacker, then noticed that Wilde was swarmed. Despite Zolf’s best attempts at teaching him, the man was useless with martial weapons. It was a decent effort, but Wilde had a gash on his arm where a blade had slashed into him, and his strength was clearly fading.

Zolf charged toward him, wading into the fray and skewering an enemy just as they threatened to bring down their sword on Wilde’s head.

“Not a chance, mate,” Zolf muttered through gritted teeth.

With his aid, the mass around Wilde was dispersed, and the pair was allowed a brief moment to breathe.

“Doing alright?” Wilde asked.

“Yeah. You?”

Wilde shrugged, even with sweat dripping from his brow. “Do you know where Barnes got off to?”

Just as he finished the sentence, Zolf spotted an arrow flying toward them from behind Wilde. There was a split second before it would lodge itself in his spine.

Zolf shoved him to the side so that it wouldn’t hit him, and the arrow instead found a new target, thudding into Zolf’s chest. Without his chainmail, it easily found purchase.

“Zolf!” Wilde screamed, but Zolf didn’t hear him.

Instead, he thudded to his knees as his vision began to swim, and then went black.

***

“Zolf, come on, please. I need you to breathe for me. Slowly – in and out. Please.”

The light was blinding as Zolf opened his eyes. His chest ached.

In an instant, he remembered the battle, and he reached for his glaive and tried to sit up, but Wilde gently pushed him back down.

“It’s over. There weren’t many left,” Wilde explained. “You were only out for a few minutes, but you weren’t breathing, and I thought…”

Zolf grimaced. “It’ll take more than an arrow to do me in, you know that.”

With a sincere smile, Wilde replied, “You say that, but I think it came pretty close. Got you a potion in time, but you’ll need to take it easy.”

“Does that mean I get out of cleaning up the battle damage?” He teased, smirking.

“Not that easy.” The jokes faded away, and Wilde’s face grew serious, his eyes narrowed with concern. “Thank you, for saving me from the arrow. But… please be careful. I know you’re strong, but you can’t survive everything.”

“It’s not like I wanted to get shot. There was half a second before it would hit you; I figured it was better for it to hit me.”

“That’s part of the problem. Why should you be hurt instead of me?”

“Because I’m a beefy boy,” Zolf insisted with a reassuring smile. He sat up to face Wilde, who still knelt beside him. “We both have our strengths. Yours is not direct, martial combat. I don’t know, I just… I want to keep you safe.”

“And I want you to be safe.” Wilde put a hand on Zolf’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“We are in the wrong business,” he chuckled, and Wilde smiled. “But I’ll try to be more careful, okay?”

“That’s all I can ask.”

Zolf reached deep into himself, channeling something akin to hope, and finished the healing process that the potion had begun. The wound in his chest stitched shut until the only evidence of it was the tear in his shirt and the blood that stained the fabric. Once that was done, he looked over Wilde.

“What about you? Did you get hurt? How’s your arm?”

“Oh.” Wilde looked down at the gash in his arm and noticed a few other cuts and bruises as he did so. “I forgot about that.”

“Wilde.”

“I was more focused on you not dying,” he cried. “I can handle a scratch.”

“I know you can.”

Zolf didn’t have to take Wilde’s hand from his shoulder and hold it between his own hands in order to heal him, but that didn’t stop him from doing so. He gently ran his thumb across Wilde’s skin as he sent healing into him. It always seemed easier to channel his magic, his hope, when Wilde was there.

“We should probably check on the others,” Zolf said, still holding onto Wilde’s hand long after the spell was cast.

“We should.”

Despite that, neither gave any indication of moving.

“Maybe we just sit for a second?” Wilde suggested. “Everything will be hectic enough soon enough, what with needing to find a new center of operations. Let’s just… breathe for a minute.”

Zolf smiled. “I’d like that.”

[txemrn]

The Picture Show

Book: TNA

Rating: fluffy; smidge of sensuality, smidge of angst

Word count: exactly 2000

A/N: Oof! I wanted to participate in wacky drabbles #102 this week, but long story short, the week got away from me, and I am painfully late in posting! That's okay, though! It's going up anyway, and I'm sure they won't mind me using their prompt (prompt will be in bold)! Huge thanks to @kat-tia801 for brainstorming this fic with me, and thank you to @chemist-ana for pre-reading (and convincing me it wasn't dumb lol). As always, these characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry (also, Caroline is the name I've given Sam's first wife; even though we know her real name now, old habits die hard... wow, pun not intended!).

***

A crisp, cool breeze manifests a gentle oasis for the gathered movie-goer crowd on the humid city street. Waiting in line to purchase tickets for their impromptu date night, Brynn casually ties a knot in the front of her knit band tee, exposing a thin strip of her Tuscany-sun-kissed skin. Finger-combing her almond waves, she tosses her careless strands into a perfectly teased bun to enjoy the reprieve from the stifling August heat.

“You’re making this too easy for me.” The familiar, smoky whisper sends a pleasure-filled jolt down Brynn’s spine as his breathy chuckles tickle her ear. His fingertips pad across her midriff, tucking his sizable hand into the front of her jeans. His other hand cups around her head as he presses his plump pout to the sensitive spots of her neck. “So, what’ll it be tonight: Melissa McCarthy telling jokes for two hours or scary paranormal demons?”

“The difference being?” Brynn jokes, pulling Sam’s hand out of her pants, lacing her fingers with his.

“Touché,” he chuckles, hiding a wide grin. Their lips meet together for a simple kiss just as the ticket booth attendant motions for them to approach. After collecting their tickets for the latest horror flick, the young couple approach the concession counter. “Wanna share a popcorn?”

Brynn’s eyes light up as she eagerly nods her head. “And gummy worms, please!”

“You are just as bad as the boys--”

“What does that mean?” Brynn jovially pinches Sam, aiming for his chest.

“Let’s just say that gummy worms were never on the weekly grocery list until you came around,” he smirks, raising an eyebrow while guarding his nipples.

“See? I improved your life in more ways than one,” Brynn quips.

Sam lets out a hearty laugh, pulling Brynn’s body closer to his. “Mmmm--” he kisses one side of her neck, “--so many--” he kisses the other side of her neck, his hand grazing the curve of her ass, “--different--” he suddenly squeezes hard, making Brynn yelp, “--ways--” he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

A clearing of a throat abruptly interrupts the moment. “‘Scuse me, but did you want butter on your popcorn, sir?” Sam’s cheeks burn red as Brynn chuckles through a nod. “That’ll be twenty-eight eighty-one.”

Sam quickly double-takes as he pulls out his wallet. “I’m sorry,” he grins politely, “did you say almost thirty dollars? For popcorn and gummy worms?”

“And your wife wanted a large Coke Zero.”

Brynn smiles brightly as she dramatically slurps on a straw. “Yes, husband, your wife wanted a large Coke Zero,” she sardonically mimics the concession worker, batting her eyes innocently.

Sam lowers his voice. “For thirty dollars?”

“Actually for twenty-eight eighty-one,” the teenage attendant corrects.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Brynn pats Sam’s chest, winking at him endearingly before turning her attention to the cashier. “He hasn’t been to the movies since de Blasio took office.”

The attendant gives a confused look. “Who?”

Brynn stifles a laugh. “Exactly.” She looks warmly up at Sam as he boops her on the nose, grinning smugly at her. She puts her hand in his hand that is holding his wallet. “I’ve got this, old man.”

“Absolutely not.” Sam pulls his hand away from hers. “What kind of gentleman do you take me for?”

“Sam, it’s not a big deal,” she reaches for his wallet. “You are always paying. Let me do this tonight. My treat.” He quickly snatches his wallet, lifting it above her head while shaking his head. “Samuel!” she titters, stretching to grab his wallet. “Why are you being so difficult? Put that away.”

“Brynn, c’mon, there are people waiting--”

“Exactly. Let me pay.” She pushes her petite body in front of Sam’s as she reaches for her own wallet. “Here, sir,” she motions to the cashier as she begins to pull out two twenty-dollar bills.

“No. Brynn!” Sam loops his arm in front of Brynn’s body, shielding her from pulling her money out. “Stop that!” He turns to the concession attendant. “Here, take my card--”

Brynn swats at Sam's hand, accidentally knocking his wallet out of his grasp, the contents of the billfold dumping out onto the counter. Brynn cups her mouth, laughing at an irritated Sam who is taking a large deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. She quickly hands her money to the attendant before turning her attention to Sam. “C’mon, let’s get this cleaned up--”

And suddenly, there it was, splayed out for both Sam and Brynn to see together: a picture of Sam’s late wife. In the nude.

Sam quickly snatches the picture up as well as his cards and cash, hoping Brynn didn't notice. When he looks back up, Brynn is already giving their tickets to the attendant to be admitted into the theater.

She noticed.

“Brynn--”

“I--I think I’m gonna need some more napkins,” she nervously interrupts, an out-of-breath pant to her voice.

“Ma’am? There are napkins inside," helpfully offered a worker.

“Oh,” Brynn appears defeated, refusing to look at Sam. “I’ll go grab our seats then,” she offers, power-walking away from her boyfriend.

“Brynn? Brynn?” His voice carries over the bustling hallway, but she doesn’t slow down. Once in the theater, Brynn anxiously stumbles in the low-lighting, picking out seats. Catching up to her, Sam’s hands kindly grip her shoulders. “Brynn. Please. Talk to me.”

She cordially smiles at him. “Talk about what?” She sits down, nervously pawing to open her bag of gummy worms.

Sam steals the bag of candy from Brynn. “Are you seriously going to pretend that didn’t just happen?”

“Pretend that what didn’t just happen--”

Putting his hands on his hips, he raises his voice. “You seeing my wife’s tits.” With the sudden cascade of snickers and gasps from fellow patrons turning to stare, Brynn grabs Sam’s arm, yanking him down into his seat.

Sam leans over, whispering into Brynn’s ear. “Please, let’s just talk about this--”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Sam,” her eyes stare intently at the large white screen.

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” Brynn begins wringing her hands as her foot nervously bounces. “I just,” she sighs before becoming quiet, her voice audibly shaking, “I--I didn’t know. I mean--damnit, Sam, you keep a photo of her in your wallet?”

“Of my wife?" He enunciates, making Brynn feel foolish. "Is that wrong of me?”

“No,” Brynn’s lower lip begins to tremble, “yes? I--I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think right now. I figured you'd have a picture of her. Just with, uh, I mean. She would be, um--"

"Clothed?" Sam smirks.

Brynn gradually looks into Sam's eyes, but finds herself abruptly avoiding his gaze as questions flood her mind. Why would he be keeping a nude photo of his late wife? How often does he look at it? Is that even her business to know? To care?

The house lights turn down as the roar of advertisements brightly flood the screen. Brynn rests her chin in her hand, fighting tears. Even though the excitement of the music and vivid colors enthralls the audience, Brynn is a million miles away. She feels completely confused as to how to feel about this situation. Was she even allowed to be upset about this? Why couldn’t things just be simple for once in their relationship?

“Brynn?” Sam beckons for her from the clouds, bringing her back to reality. He lifts up the armrest between them. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulls her into his chest, peppering her hair with kisses.

As the movie ends, Sam and Brynn remain silent, making their exit to the streets of New York. After a few blocks, Sam stops, sensing Brynn’s heightened emotions. He can tell she’s still bothered by what happened before the movie.

He sighs heavily. “Let’s talk about it.”

Brynn lets go of his hand, scoffing, spinning around to see if anyone was watching. After a few moments of silence, she can feel the heat budding in her cheeks. She crosses her arms, and while staring at Sam, she lets out an inaudible ‘okay’.

With sincerity in his voice, Sam locks eyes with Brynn. "I honestly haven't looked at that picture in months. I completely forgot that I even had it. But--” he hesitates for a second, choosing his words wisely, “--throwing it away seems like the wrong thing to do."

"Caroline* and I didn't have sex until our wedding night." Brynn's eyebrows furrow before her eyes widen in shock. Sam continues. "She wanted to wait until marriage, especially given," he takes a deep breath, "my past--which you know about." Brynn nods. "But then the night before our wedding,” a smile blossoms across his face in remembrance, “she gifted me this wallet. With this picture. She said it was her promise to me--her all to me. I know you see a nude picture. But,” he sighs nervously as his eyes glaze with tears, “it’s always been so much more than that.”

Brynn considers his words, a warm smile growing on her face. She finally holds out her hand, for Sam to take. “Let’s go home.”

The next night, Brynn did bedtime alone with the boys. The penthouse had been fairly quiet throughout the day, even after Sam came home late from work. There is still an awkwardness in the air, and even though Brynn and Sam weren’t angry with each other, they also didn’t know what to say.

Closing the twin’s bedroom door, Brynn quietly tiptoes to the home office in her robe, knowing Sam is lost in his paperwork. She cautiously knocks on the door. After a few moments, the door whips open, Sam grabbing Brynn and jerking her inside.

“Since when do we knock on doors, babe?” Sam sits back into his leather tufted chair, pulling Brynn onto his lap, endearingly rubbing circles on her lower back.

“I--I wasn’t sure if you were busy, or--or if you--”

Sam holds his hand over her mouth, a smile growing across his face. “You know better.” He grabs her hand, kissing the back of it. “Now, what’s going on?”

Brynn coyly looks up at Sam, clearly nervous to ask her next question. “Can I see your wallet?”

Sam’s face falls, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Why?”

“I want to see it.”

Sam can’t bring his attention to Brynn. He never removed that photo of his first wife, nor did he know how Brynn was currently feeling about the nude picture. All he does know is he better pull out his wallet. And start praying for mercy.

Brynn stands up, circling around Sam’s office chair. Sam reaches in his back pocket, pulling out the wallet. Brynn wraps her arms around his shoulders, brushing her nose against his ear. “Open it,” she commands with a sensual, husky tone.

Sam dutifully opens his wallet to the plastic picture holder. His cheeks begin to swelter with pink growing down his neck. He can feel a queasiness growing in his gut as he lays it out for Brynn to see.

“Aren’t you going to look?”

“Brynn?” He throws off her arms, becoming irritated. “What kind of game--?”

And that’s when he sees it: a picture of his stunning girlfriend, carefully photographed in the nude with her hands posing perfectly across her assets.

Sam’s eyes quickly dart around the room, finding Brynn locking the door and uncinching her robe. Letting the fabric pool on the floor, she straddles her naked body across his lap, his hands unable to resist.

Brynn grabs the wallet, pulling out the nude photos of herself and Sam’s first wife. “This may have been her promise to you, and you can keep it for as long as you want,” Brynn pulls out her photo, handing it to Sam. "But, this. This is my promise to you, Sam Dalton." She leans over, stealing his breath with a fervent kiss. “I love you.”

Cupping her cheek, Sam’s eyes gather tears as he looks admirably at his new forever. “I love you, too.”

***

Tags: @ao719 @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @taniasethi @thefrenchiemama