#so hopefully that works for you! i did promise something light but i've a mind for something more emotional later

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 2

Part 1, Part 3

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Kissing, Angst, Asexual Angst, Allusions to Past Relationships

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: OMG, thank you to everyone who has read the first part. I was not expecting for it to blow up like it did. Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint. And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!! (Especially those I've tagged. I'd really like to know if you still like it.)

Word Count: 3.0K

How could ten feet of hallway feel like a death march?  It was a question you never thought to pose to yourself, until you faced the distance between your door and Astarion’s. 

What could you even say to him? An apology was always a good start, but for what? Neither of you made any formal declarations of intentions towards each other. That was the whole point of this game of yours, to keep the other guessing. It wasn’t like you outright lied to him or made promises you didn’t intend to keep. 

So why did you feel so guilty? 

Of course, you could be working yourself up over nothing. He could just as easily laugh in your face. 

With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you were almost surprised to see the light beneath his door reflecting on your boots.

A lump of panic tightened your throat. From the angle of the light, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were standing there. There was still time to turn around, put it off until morning–.

“The door is open, darling.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. Hell, he didn’t even sound smug. It was that rare gentleness he only took on when nobody else was looking. There were times it seemed to surprise even him. You didn’t stand a chance. 

With a breath, you opened the door. 

Warm candle light met your eyes, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. The room itself was nothing special. Similar to yours it really only held the bed, desk and chair. The only noticeable difference was the widow facing due east, its curtains open allowing a view of the rain pittering against the window. 

Astarion had insisted on this room. You understood why now. He always wanted to start the day facing the rising sun. 

For a brief moment, you allowed the stillness of the moment to calm you, before turning your gaze to the man himself. 

Oh thank the Gods, he was still dressed. 

Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, in his most comfortable white ruffled shirt and black pants. Despite his casual appearance he still came off as nothing short of a prince awaiting his court. His lips were posed in a knowing smile as he regarded you, tilting his head to the side. The light of the candles caught his scarlet eyes, making them burn.

“Are you going to keep that open all night?” he asked. 

Blinking, you turned to see your hand was still on the door handle. A little too quickly, you shut it behind you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say. 

“It’s quite alright,” he said, his tone only mildly teasing. 

You stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to put your hands. How in the hells were you meant to start a conversation after everything he saw? You were a bard for Gods’ sake. Talking was supposed to be something you were good at. Still the silence lingered, becoming worse with every second. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What are you still doing way over there?”

You shrugged, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck. “Is there somewhere else you want me?”

He gave you a playful smirk, offering his hand. “Come on. I’d promise not to bite, but…” He trailed off, widening his smile enough for his fangs to show. 

Of all things, it was that small flash of teeth which put you at ease. He was poking fun at you. Surely that was a good sign. 

Slowly, you walked toward him, taking his outstretched hand. He was cool to the touch. His fingers a mixture of manicured softness and well fought calluses, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. You centered in on sensation letting it the ground you back into the here and now. 

He guided you to sit next to him, never letting his touch slip from yours. 

“That was…quite a performance,” he said. 

You gave a half hearted smile. It was as good a place to start as any, but you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the way his hand intertwined with yours. It should have frightened you or at the very least made you suspicious, but it felt too good. You didn’t want to break the spell. 

“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said, honestly. 

He gave a hum of agreement. “I don’t think any of us were.”

His hand trailed further up your arm, allowing his thumb to brush against the scars on your wrist. 

A small shiver went through you. The scars on your neck had long since faded after the first night you let him feed on you. You’d made a point to only let him bite your wrist from that point onward. It was meant to hedge expectations. You’d thought a neck bite would make the act more charged than you intended. What a fool you were. Of course he’d find a way to make even the barest touch feel intimate.

“The melody alone…I’ve never heard its equal,” he continued. 

You nodded, unsure what to do with his praise. You couldn’t dismiss it as easily as before. He sounded too sincere. 

“Thank you,” you said, softly, “but I’m not sure how much credit I can take. It felt more like the song was playing me.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me. How else could you explain such radiance?”

You felt now was the time for you to say something clever, but any words that might have formed fell heavy on your tongue as he moved your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the raised marks of your skin. Your heart began to pound. No doubt he could feel every racing beat of it. 

“Are you hungry?” you said, the words blurting out before you could stop them. 

He laughed, the vibrations running down the length of your arm. 

“Certainly,” he purred, turning his gaze to you. “But not for blood. I was hoping you’d let me indulge in some other parts of you.” 

Panic struck you then, turning in your stomach as your eyes widened. “Astarion…”

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he said. He still held your wrist delicately in his hand allowing the other to brush lightly against your cheek. 

Your breath shook and damn you to the hells if you knew exactly the cause. 

“I saw you,” he whispered. “I saw what it is you truly desire. It was beautiful, passionate…starving, and all for me.” He leaned it close, the warmth of his breath dancing against your lips. “Am I wrong?”

Your mouth became dry as sand, forcing you to swallow. “Not entirely.”

“Would it surprise you then, to know I want the same thing?”

The sudden urge to laugh rose within you. Gods was this really happening? “I rather doubt that.”

“Then allow me to show you.” 

Before you could say another word, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

It was…nice; really nice, if you were being honest. His hand cupped your cheek, as if it were made of the finest porcelain. There was a care to his touch you hadn’t expected, leaving the door open for you to pull away. The assurance was enough to make you want to stay. 

You’d always liked this part. In truth, you craved physical affection; holding hands, hugging, kissing, they had a way of making you feel so much closer to those you cared for. The trouble always came when people expected more.  

He pressed further into you, teasing your mouth to spark a reaction. 

You needed to pull away. If there was a time for you to stop, this was it. But, it did feel so good. Maybe you could indulge a little longer. It was just kissing. 

Your own hand reached out, lacing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. 

He hummed in approval, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. 

You let yourself get lost in him. It was easy to forget when he held you so reverently. For a moment you could convince yourself this was all there was. 

A slight shift in his body. His hands grasping you just a little tighter and next thing you knew you were on your back with Astarion hovering over you. 

His low moan poured into your mouth as he slotted himself between your legs and pressed his weight against you. 

Fear spiked within you, forcing the air from your lungs. Shit, this was happening.  

His lips left yours trailing kisses across your cheek to the underside of your jaw. 

“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well for me.” 

His lips met your neck and it was taking everything in your power to breathe normally. 

This wasn’t what you wanted, but it didn’t feel bad. Astarion was being so tender with you. Maybe, if you went through with it, things wouldn’t have to change. You could still flirt and tease. Hell maybe you could convince him to simply hold you now and again. All you’d have to do is let him have something for himself. It was more than a fair trade. Besides, he was experienced in this, certainly more than others you’d been with. You could do this for him. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before. 

His hands moved further down your body, teasing the edge of your shirt. 

The memory of that twisted melody came into your heart filling you with dread. The way you had been so willing to morph yourself into what somebody else wanted for the sake of not being alone. Wasn’t this supposed to be different? 

“Wait, stop,” you said, before you had time to question yourself. 

To your relief, Astarion didn’t hesitate pulling his hands away as if they just caught fire. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?” 

You shook your head, that familiar guilt twisting inside you at his concern. “No. You didn’t do anything, I just…” You swallowed. You weren’t going to cry.  Not now. Gods, you were such an idiot. “Could you…could you move off me? Please.” 

His brow furrowed, but he did not question you as he pulled himself away. 

Cool air rushed over you, pulling a sigh of relief from your lips. For a long time you just laid there, calming the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood. It was over. It was all over.

With an effort, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Out of the corner of your eye Astarion watched you, his expression unreadable. You’d expect nothing less from him.  

“I’m sorry,” you managed. 

“I don’t need an apology,” he said, firmly, “but I would like an explanation.” 

Slowly, as if to keep from frightening an cornered animal, he turned his body to face yours, making a point to keep a respectable distance. He really wasn’t going to make this easier for you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. 

You shook your head fervently. “No. No, you were perfect. That’s rather the problem.”

His lips turned into a hard line, clearly unsure how to take your statement. His eyes then narrowed, leaning closer to more carefully examine your features. 

“You’re not cursed, are you?” he asked, suddenly. 

The question caught you off guard, forcing a laugh. “What?”

“You know, something something, any man who touches you below the belt is smited. That kind of thing.” 

You shook your head, baffled as to where this conversation was headed. “No.” 

He nodded, in consideration “Alright then, any diseases you neglected to inform me about?”

“No.”

“Hells, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“Gods no!” you snapped, feeling your whole body go flush. 

“Then what is it? One second you were there and the next…” he trailed off, before forcing a deep breath. “Look, I’m not angry, but if there is something wrong, I’d prefer to know.” 

“Nothing is wrong,” you insisted. 

“So why the hesitation?” he pressed. “You find me desirable. I’ve made clear I find you desirable. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and even have a proper mattress for the occasion. The only conclusion I can come to is there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

You opened your mouth only to close it again, wracking your brain on how to start this.

To your shock, Astarion remained silent. It wasn’t the quiet entitled anger you had received in the past or even idle confusion. He looked like he truly wanted to know. 

You let out a long sigh. There was no getting around it now. 

“I do find you desirable,” you said. “The trouble is, physically speaking…I don’t really.”

He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t think I’m pretty?”

You had to laugh, shaking your head. “Astarion, I promise, you are possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t factor into why I desire you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” you said plainly. “It never has. Not with anyone.”

He cocked his head, his eyes caught between his natural suspicion and genuine surprise. “Never?”

You shrugged. 

“Above such things are you?” he said, dryly. 

“It’s not as if I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” you snapped. “I’m not trying to achieve some arbitrary moral purity. I just never felt attracted to anyone in that way. I can look at someone and know objectively they’re beautiful or handsome or any number of other descriptors, but that need, that hunger so many people describe, it just never clicked.”

He continued to stare at you blankly before his mouth turned into a hard line. 

“So when I was kissing you, just now. You didn’t feel anything?”

“Not especially,” you said, a little guilty. “Don’t get me wrong, it was pleasant. I do like being close to you. It’s just the things kissing leads to I’m not a fan of.”

You didn’t know what to make of the look that shot across his face. He seemed lost, somewhere far away, before blinking back to the present. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked. 

“I meant to,” you assured. “I should have. I just…sometimes forget I don’t need a reason to say no.” 

You took a breath, willing yourself to calm. 

“I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking some part of me was broken. That if I waited long enough or tried hard enough, I’d feel the things I’m supposed to feel. I’ve come to terms with the fact I never will. I’m not upset about it. It just means that what I want, what I desire from another person, it’s different than most.” 

He took that in, his red eyes peering deep into yours as if truly looking at you for the first time. 

“So, if it’s not my body you desire, what else could you possibly want?” 

You stared at him as his expression suddenly hardened. His whole body turned on edge as if waiting for you to cast the ending blow. 

“What?” he prompted, sharply. 

You shook your head. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

He gave you an incredulous look. 

Keeping your movements slow and obvious, leaned closer to him. You reached out, moving towards his hand. 

He didn’t pull away, but the guarded expression never faded. 

You took that as a good sign, allowing your hand to rest on top of his as you looked him straight in the eyes. 

“Astarion, when I say I desire you, I mean all of you,” you said, keeping your tone as clear and open so there could be no doubt of the truth of your words. “I want your attentions. I want your adoration. I want your petty jealousies and loud annoyances. I want your teasing. I want your promises and your secrets. I want nights filled with your laughter and mornings in your arms. I want to feel your heart in my chest. I want to know it beats for me. And in return, I want to give you mine. So no, I’m not especially interested in your body. But for the rest? I’m insatiable.”

He only stared at you. You supposed you should take it as a triumph. You’d found an effective way to shut him up at least; declare your overwhelming love for him.

“I know,” you said, softly. “It’s a lot. I’m a lot. But, you don’t have to worry. I don’t expect anything.”

“You don’t?”

You gave a self deprecating smile.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know whatever…favor you gave me, it wasn’t real.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly.

You gave him a doubtful look. 

He grimaced. “Alright, maybe some of it was, but–.”

“It’s fine,” you cut off. “I know what game I was playing. I’m just not very good at it.” 

You pulled your hand away, letting your eyes fall from his. Despite the coolness of his touch, somehow your hand felt even colder at the loss of it. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unnaturally unsure of itself. 

You tried to smile. “Don’t be. I’ll get over it. I always do.”

Something in his eyes flicked in the firelight. His expression turned contemplative as he looked deeply into your eyes. 

“I rather doubt that,” he murmured.

A sharp pain buried its way into your chest at his words, not because they were cruel or came from a place of arrogance, but because they were undeniably true. 

You pushed yourself off the bed, forcing down the well of emotion threatening to burst from your eyes at any moment. 

“I should go,” you said. “Goodnight.” 

You made your way towards the door only to stop at the sound of your name. It was said so gently, like a desperate prayer. 

You didn’t reach for it, not this time.  It already burned too much. 

Without another word, you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you leaving nothing but dark and silence.

Tag List:

@yaimlight, @hallowedandhungry, @bluestuesday, @meggsssart, @murmoruno, @prophetszendo, @cabbit17, @sunset-sunrise-sunshine, @isharaneith, @thisisew, @easy-there-leftovers, @ohhnoimbisexual, @dolceaspidenera, @dork-of-the-universe, @righteous-scamp, @ambrolyer, @our-little-shared-infinity, @baldursgateslittlestar, @pkail, @nanaoise08squad, @becksynthetic, @deliriumcrow, @badgerstorms-art, @taraiel, @writingmysanity

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Author’s Note: Thank you all for your patience! I already started part 9 and will hopefully have it for you guys tomorrow <3

Summary: Forgiveness is a big part of healing but it is harder than it seems.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: angst, let me know if I need to add any others :)

As you went to find Azriel, you were stopped by Rhys. He asked if you could come with him to his office to talk and you agreed.

"You seem to be doing better?" Your high lord said, not sure if it was a statement or a question

"Yeah, I just had a talk with Elain and cleared everything up." You told him

"Cleared everything up? You say that as if it was a simple miscommunication. You had one talk and poof," he waved his hands, "you've forgiven her?" he asked

"Rhys, holding onto all of the pain in my heart has been one of the hardest things I've ever been through. Plus, she was never very close to me." you stated

"You don't have to be close with someone to be decent to them. She hurt you and that's not okay." he countered

"Well, you know Elain, she's been through so much-" you started but a sigh from your friend cut you off.

"So have you, stop making excuses for her. Listen, I'm telling you this because I care about you. You are entirely too nice, and you need to start putting yourself first for once. I'm not saying you have to hate her but you need to work through your feelings before letting everyone off the hook." he told you

You understood what he meant, you had been so eager to fix everything. So desperate to make everything normal again that you hadn't been thinking about yourself.

"I love how much you care about us but please stop worrying about our feelings more than your own. We want to be here for you, so let us." He added with a smile

With a new mindset, you got up to go. You had to find Azriel, even if you weren't ready to forgive him you needed answers. As you reached the door, Rhys spoke again.

"One last thing, Azriel has been punishing himself over this more than any of us could. I don't want you to just let him off the hook, but keep that in mind when you talk to him. He knows he messed up." he told you.

With a nod at your High Lord, you went to find Az.

You turned down a hallway and felt a shadow wrap around your wrist and tug you toward the library. It was as if it knew you were looking for it's master.

Azriel was sitting at one of the big chairs made to fit his wings. He looked up and stood as you entered.

"We need to talk. I have so many questions for you and things I need to say. I don't even know where to begin. " you told him

"I do. I owe you a million apologies. I am so sorry I stood you up. I promise I will make it up to you no matter how long it takes. Please tell me if there is anything I can do to make it better." Az pleaded

"All I need right now is answers. Why did you pull away from me? You were my best friend and all of the sudden one day, you weren't." the words you had been wanting to say finally coming out

"I...I don't know." he stuttered

"Bullshit," you said immediately, "I know you, and you wouldn't do that if there wasn't a reason. Did I do something to you?"

"What? No... I just..." Az could barely get any words out.

You stood there looking expectantly at him.

"I love you. No, I'm IN love with you. I'm infatuated with you. You are everything to me and that terrifies me. I let down everyone I love and now I let you down too." the spymaster confessed

Before you would even put a sentence together, he continued.

"I see you in everything that makes me happy, in everything that brings me life. You are in the wind as I fly, in the stars that I stay up and watch at night. You are in every breath that fills my lungs. I've said it before and I will say it again. You are all of the light in my dark life. There is no life worth living without you." His chest was heaving by the end of his words

Your eyes were wide. You wanted to run and embrace him but you were still confused and hurt.

"If all of what you just said is true, then why did you choose Elain over me time and time again?" Tears filled your eyes as you questioned the male.

"I was a fool. A terrified, madly in love fool. For some reason, I never got it right. I pushed all my feelings aside so I wouldn't lose you. I couldn't bare the thought of you not loving me back. Once Elain came along I knew it would be so much easier to keep myself occupied with her. It was stupid and I regret it, you have to believe me." Azriel told you

"I do. But that doesn't make it ok. And you used Elain, that was not fair to her," you sighed and paused, "I suppose I wasn't being fair by blaming you for everything either. Az, I'm upset that you stood me up but what happened to me was not your fault."

He needed to hear that last sentence but for some reason it broke him.

"If I had been there, maybe I could have stopped it" He choked out through tears and fell to his knees in front of you.

You went to him and put both your hands on his face and made him look at you.

"The only person responsible for my pain is the one who tortured me. You had no way of knowing what was going to happen and I am so sorry for making you feel like it was your fault. I was hurt and angry and took it out on you and that wasn't right," You told him, "I mean, don't get me wrong, you still have a lot of groveling to do for standing me up but stop beating yourself up for the rest of it."

"I can grovel, I love groveling. I'll grovel for the rest of my life if I have to." He spoke

"How about we start with being friends again? It'll take some time for me to forgive and trust you but I'm willing to try if you are." You offered

The spymaster was a little hurt at the word 'friends' but he knew he had to prove himself. Hopefully he could show you he would be better and eventually you two could be something more.

For now, he would accept your friendship.

You both hung out for the rest of the day, catching each other up on whatever was going on in your lives. It didn't immediately feel like how it was before but it was comfortable between you two at least. Eventually it was time for dinner and drinks.

Rhys, Cass, Az, Feyre, Nesta and you all ate a lovely dinner together and then the drinks started. Everyone was enjoying themselves.

Cass said we needed to let loose and began dancing, Feyre immediately joining him.

"They're awful dancers." Nesta spoke with a look of horror on her face watching her mate

You giggled and your body felt light. You felt a glimmer of hope as if everything would eventually be alright.

Cassian and Feyre made their way over to where you, Az, Nesta, and Rhys sat. They made a few awful attempts to get the other three to dance. Once they realized those three wouldn't budge, they put all their efforts to you.

"C'mon y/n, I know you want to dance!" Cass spoke, wiggling his body at odd angles toward you. You shook your head no and threw it back in laughter.

"Please! I'd love to dance with a pretty little thing like you!" Feyre shouted.

Rhys, Az, and Nesta all continued laughing at their High Lady's antics while you and Cass froze.

The two of you stared at each other, sobering up at those words. A look of pain took over Cassian's face as he watched you. You felt your throat start to close up as you tried to stop yourself from crying.

"What's going on?" Az asked, jumping up and assessing the room for a threat.

A few moments of silence passed.

"Tassarion called y/n a pretty little thing when he kidnapped us." Cass told the group, the room growing solemn.

"I'm sorry y/n..." Feyre told you

"You couldn't have known," you said, "I'm kind of tired anyways. I think I'm done for the night."

You began the walk up to your room and Cassian grabbed your arm as you walked past him. He was giving you a look and you just nodded and gave him a small smile in return. You didn't need words to know what he meant. He was there for you if you needed him.

Patting his hand that was holding your arm, you continued to your room and he let you go.

The next couple of days went the same. You would feel like it was a good day and then something would happen that would bring you right back to that dungeon. Azriel was always there helping you through it.

He made sure he was there for you every second you needed him and you were grateful. With his and the rest of the inner circle's help, you got through a couple weeks.

You felt your trust for Az growing everyday. He had started training you again and you were feeling stronger everyday.

You were sat in the library, surrounded by books. Working on a few things for Rhys when you realized you hadn't seen Elain since you spoke to her that day. You raised your head from the book to look at Az, who was reading his own book across from you.

"Where has Elain been?" You asked bluntly

"She's been with Lucien and Jurian" He told you

"Oh? What's she doing there?" You asked

Realizing you weren't going to stop until you got answers, he put his book down, "I talked with her and apologized for using her the way I did. She was still upset with me but I told her that I was also upset with her. Y/N, she knew what she was doing that night, trying to keep me from you. And the flowers? I don't care how embarrassed she was, she couldn't even take the time to see you in person? And couldn't bother to write the note herself? Then after all of that and seeing what happened to you, the only reason you both talked was because you went to her. You may be able to forgive her already but I am not." he said

"So you sent her away?" you couldn't believe him

"No, of course not. She decided to go with him. She said she was going to give the mating bond a chance and also give us some space at the same time." Az answered

"Oh" you responded dumbly, not knowing what to say

"I will work for the rest of my life to gain your full trust and forgiveness back. I know how much pain we both caused you, her having one conversation with you does not change anything. I understand and respect that you must forgive her in order to help yourself but I don't have to do any such thing. I hope you will respect my decision." he said

"I do" you told him

A few of his shadows reached out and slowly curled around you. They had been more hesitant since you shooed them away at the table that day. You smiled at them and more came over to you.

You went back to your work with the comfort of the shadows nuzzled into your hair.

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[talesofesther]

sweet calamity | ch 3

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.

A/N: I think I've rewritten this part about ten times, but I really hope it turned out somewhat good and hopefully doesn't feel rushed.

Masterlist | Read ch 2 here

The sunlight molded itself through the windows, casting shadows over Wednesday as she made her way to the quad. There was no need for her to be going there, none other than meeting up with you.

It's been a week and two days since classes started in Nevermore. Since Wednesday has involuntarily allowed you to be a part of her routine.

She discovered that you shared a handful of classes; sometimes meeting on the way to them, getting paired up in fencing, or finding each other between the greenhouse plants. So occasionally — only because your ability to get lost was unparalleled — Wednesday met up with you so you could walk together.

Enid was thrilled that her two friends had already sort of become friends with each other as well; the werewolf had been planning a girl's night, to which Wednesday was already planning her escape plan.

It's also been a little over a week since the persistent burn on Wednesday's skin has been following her incessantly, lurking around the corners and in the middle of crowded rooms, pulsing with a beat that she already knows the rhythm of.

There are times, late nights when she scars her fingers on the cords of her cello, where she recounts every time that she felt it over the day. You are present in most of them.

It's a coincidence, a foul move of this universe only to confuse her, Wednesday tells herself. It had to be, because she had already touched you, hadn't she?

You're sitting by one of the stone pillars when Wednesday reaches the quad, soft sunlight partly casting over you as you focus on something that's on your hands. There's a cold breeze in the air, getting colder as the days go by and winter quickly approaches. The trees barely hold any green anymore, it was pleasant, despite the sun.

Fewer students are hanging around, and Wednesday hates that she already anticipated the pain before it even happened. She inhales sharply, keeping her steps steady toward you as she pushes the feeling to the very back of her mind. A pattern was slowly starting to form, and despite her eagerness to put an end to things, Wednesday has been choosing to ignore it.

She stopped in front of you, her boots short of hitting your sneakers. "What are you doing?"

Always short and direct. It made you smile as you got up from your spot, your eyes capturing traces of golden light and the entirety of Wednesday's attention.

"Hello to you too, Addams," you smirked.

All Wednesday did was slowly start walking to class, knowing you'd be right beside her.

"These", you opened your palm to reveal a small bunch of seeds, "are lavender seeds. Eugene's bees are quite fond of them."

Wednesday's eyebrows scrunched adorably as she looked at your hand and she pursed her lips in concentration, you're not sure she even realizes she's doing it. You're also not sure if your heart has ever felt this way before — burning hot, valves working overtime each second more that you look at her, leaving scorch marks on your skin for the affection you already hold.

Why so easy? You wonder sometimes. Why does your heart change its rhythm for her?

You're stalling with the answers and you know it. And maybe you don't want answers at all, because this way you might just get to keep her.

Would it be too selfish? Too naive of you?

"He asked if I could grow a few for him." Gently, you picked up a single seed, holding it between your thumb and pointer finger.

Wednesday's gaze followed the movement. She watched as the flower bloomed in your hold, its petals growing until their color was a vivid shade of purple.

"For you," you said softly, looking at Wednesday even softer.

The Addams girl wasn't fond of this particular flower. She had this repulsive, sickening feeling in her chest — one she couldn't name, yet didn't have it in herself to chase away. She took the little thing from your hand, her fingertips almost brushing yours.

———

"You know you could just ask permission," Enid suggested, "I'm sure Principal Weems would let you."

Your attention automatically changed to the neglected flowerbed in the middle of the quad, the water from around it was drained and the dead tree that had been burned to a crisp was barely standing on its own.

The sight was saddening to you when you first saw it, and you'd been considering to offer to renovate it.

"You think so?"

"I do," Enid smiled in that bright way only she could manage, propping both elbows on the table so she could rest her head on her hands, "this place desperately needs some color anyway."

You chuckled, tapping your knee with your nails. You could already picture what flowers would go where, and maybe a new tree could be considered as well — it does take a lot of energy from you, but it would look so nice.

"I can go ask with you if you want," Enid offered, apparently sensing your hesitance, her ankle bumping yours under the table.

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at her, "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course." She tilted her head to the side as a puppy would, "if you let me pick out some of the flowers you'll use."

Your smile was instant, "deal."

———

Branches and dead leaves crushed beneath your feet, the small porcelain pot you had on your hands now housed a bunch of pretty lavender flowers. As you walked, you made a mental note of asking Eugene why the bee shed was so deep into the woods.

Maybe it was because of the calmness of the forest.

Or because of the several bee hives, that seemed more likely.

You bit onto your lip as their buzzing reached your ears, placing one foot in front of the other with care; your attentive eyes watching as the bees walked all over their hives, some even flying above you.

You could hear Eugene inside the shed, talking to someone. He had told you bees were gentle, yet walking between them whilst holding a pot full of lavender felt like walking between lions with a freshly hunted deer.

One bee came to you, landing on a petal of your flowers. She had black and bright yellow to her colors, the small legs moving one after the other as she inspected your gift. Gentle indeed.

And it was only because of your new little friend, that you managed to not drop the flower pot.

Your skin was suddenly burning angrily, making you hiss through your teeth. It didn't make sense; you were deep into the woods, isolated, far away from anyone else. Unless-

"Wednesday, you alright?"

Eugene's voice was muffled when it reached you, but it got your heartbeat skyrocketing all the same, to the point where you felt sick to your stomach.

You knew for a fact that he and Wednesday were the only members of this club, he had told you so time and time again and yet it hadn't even crossed your mind when you agreed to bring him these damn flowers.

There was a pull on your chest that was new, as if someone was trying to carve your heart out. You could feel it; the way her soul was desperately calling for yours. Like being so far apart was torture.

A tear came down your cheek before you were able to gulp it back, followed by another, and then one more. Deep down a part of you already knew it, maybe ever since the first time you landed eyes on her. And you had chosen to live in blissful ignorance, but it was impossible to ignore it now.

Wednesday Addams was your soulmate. And she was going to hate you for it.

—

"What's wrong?" Eugene asked with urgency when Wednesday hunched over, clutching her wrist against her chest.

Her brown eyes took on a darker shade because of her anger, she huffed through her nose; "I'm considering chopping my arm off, that's what's wrong," she told him through gritted teeth.

Wednesday stomped to the shed's door, pushing it open with force and almost taking the old thing off its hinges.

She looked around frantically, searching for any signs of her other half. There was nothing but the rustling of leaves and the buzzing of bees.

"Why would you do that?" Eugene stood beside Wednesday, adjusting his glasses and following her gaze with confusion as to what she was looking for.

The bees were slowly but surely making their way to a pop of color that rested on a table beside one of the hives. Wednesday walked up to it, "so I can get rid of whatever link the universe thinks I must have with-"

Her words got somewhat tangled in her throat, because the pop of color was a shade of purple she knew already.

———

"… And Principal Weems loved the idea," Enid smiled, the food tray that held her dinner almost spilling its contents with the way she bounced, "it'll look fabulous, she's even letting me pick some of the flowers."

"Fascinating," Wednesday deadpanned, holding a tray of her own.

They reached their table, with Enid sitting on the opposite side of Eugene and leaving some room for Wednesday by her side.

The boy perked up as soon as his friends arrived; "Wednesday, have you felt it again?"

Enid's fork stopped short of reaching her mouth, "felt what?"

"Eugene, you have a mouth that's too big for your own good." Wednesday huffed, slowly setting her tray down.

Too late, because Enid's curiosity had already been poked. "What did she feel?" The werewolf's gaze changed between Wednesday and Eugene animatedly.

"Today in the bee shed," Eugene started, just as thrilled as Enid, "Wednesday felt the soulmate burn." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Enid's eyes were nearly glinting, her lips parted in a wolfish grin, "OMG, no way. Wednesday, you have to tell me absolutely everything about it," she squealed.

Wednesday eye's almost rolled to the back of her head, "I don't, actually. Because it's insignificant."

The look Enid gave her friend made it seem like Wednesday had personally offended her; "How could you say that? It's the most exciting thing. The person that's meant for you, it's right here in Nevermore. Do you have any suspicions? Oh, I could help you look."

Enid's excitement overwhelmed Wednesday. "Stop it, Enid," she said with finality, "this is no reason to be happy about. If anything I'd prefer them on the other side of the world. It's doing nothing besides being in my way."

With that, Wednesday finally sat down, eyes glued to the food she no longer desired to eat. "So drop it," she ended.

—

Your plan was simple enough.

All you had to do was touch Wednesday, without her knowing. Simple.

You had been pondering over it the entire day. You could still feel your eyes stinging and puffy, no matter how much water you threw on your face.

But it felt like the most sensible thing to do, right? This way you get to at least keep being friends with her, and she won't have to deal with the inconvenience of having her soul tied to yours.

Yes, this is the right thing. You kept replaying the words in your head like a mantra as you pushed open the huge wooden doors of the cafeteria.

As per usual, it was filled with outcasts. Your eyes skimmed over the crowd, looking for the one who tugged at the strings of your poor heart. You found her walking beside Enid, they were talking — well, Enid was talking — and making their way to Eugene's table apparently.

You breathed in deeply. It was now or never. You tugged your hoodie over your head; just in case she saw you, there was a lesser chance of her recognizing you.

Your hands were shaking.

Maybe it was meant to be this way.

Your boots were thudding the stone floor with each slow step.

Maybe that's why destiny hasn't allowed you to ever be alone with her.

You felt like a rope was tied around your throat, tightening by the second. Your vision slightly blurring.

Will your bond with her go away once you do this?

Just before reaching Wednesday, you caught sight of Andrew — a cool guy, usually your partner in Anatomy class — and he was getting up from his seat, empty tray in hand.

You figured you could make it up to him later for using him as a means to an end.

You hurried beside him, linking your arm around his free one with a smile, "Andrew, hey."

The boy looked down at you in surprise, but smiled when he saw who it was. "Hey, what's up?"

"Will you walk with me? I was just uh-" you narrowed your eyes, raking your mind for some excuse to tell him, "just heading over to the kitchen to grab some dessert." Good one.

A faint blush came to his cheeks and you cursed yourself for it. It's alright, he'll get over it.

"Of course, yeah, let's go."

You nodded excitedly, which caused a single tear to escape and slide down your cheek, but you were quick to brush it away before he noticed.

Tugging the boy a little closer to you, you started walking between the tables, each step bringing you closer to Wednesday.

You quickened your steps when she placed her tray down. And even from afar, you could tell she looked unhappy.

"If anything I'd prefer them on the other side of the world. It's doing nothing besides being in my way."

Wednesday's words resembled a sharp knife being steadily plugged into your chest. You didn't need context to know what she was talking about, and it just gave you more reason to believe this was the right thing to do.

You took a breath and held it in for a moment.

It happened both too fast and too slow. Mere seconds that felt like an eternity and a blink.

The tip of your pinkie brushed her own, just before Wednesday sat down. Your skin tingled as it grazed hers. You didn't dare look back, didn't change the rhythm of your steps or the pace of your breathing. All you did is keep walking, with your hand clutching Andrew's arm.

But there was a sudden quietness, the loud chattering of the cafeteria being muffled to your ears. The skin of your hand burned, almost to the point of unbearable and going all the way to the mark on your wrist — with it, you could feel the pace of a heartbeat that wasn't your own, but it was slowly fading, slipping away from your grasp and then…

Nothing. There was nothing. It felt like the stillness of the deep sea waters, calm and steady after a storm.

You pursed your lips to keep the sobs in, feeling the salty taste of your tears.

You read once that the red string of fate that connects two people can never be broken, it may tangle or stretch but never break. So why did you feel like you could hear the snap of it when you walked away from her?

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 4 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @gayestfeels26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @witchyhs-blog @tobylikesfire @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @ladey @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm

[onelocket]

Hello Krei! How are you? So I was wondering if I could request Fyodor with a fem s/o who does ballet? And like, her teacher is super hard on her, so she keeps practicing at home and he is always cheering for her and maybe even helping her (like holding her waist for support, and all). Not a NSFW but like this closure of touches and kisses? uwu

hello fyodor’s beloved cello!! i love this idea so much and incase this is more than just an idea, i do hope you’re alright! always prioritize yourself and your health,, i’m so sorry this one took a while, but thank you for requesting ♡

pas de deux Fyodor D. x fem!ballet dancer reader

involves -- domestic relationship, possible inaccuracies but i tried to limit them! ;_;

headcanons

Initially would he only keep a quiet eye on you.

Because personally I find that Fyodor wouldn't be direct with expressing his worries to you at first, even if you have a strict teacher. He trusts you knew what you're signing up for, but sometimes it gets a bit concerning. On certain days you'd see him on a seat nearby where you practicing so he can 'look', or rather — watch over you. Because be as your talent may, if concern for you was a topic, Fyodor has a lot in his head.

"Oh- Fedya, hi." You mutter with a tiny smile, sweat cradling your cheek. He didn't like seeing it. He'd rather have his hand there.

"Milaya," He smiled back, stepping closer to you. "Was that a sauté you just did?"

"...Yeah!" You eventually reply out after a minute of surprise, smile growing. When did he learn that name?

Indirect as his words were, he deep down meant each sentence to check if you were still actually thinking in that head of yours. But he only really asks when you practiced overtime, checking if you still actually had control of your head and wasn't just practicing like a bot with scripts she couldn't comprehend in her head for world forbid what her teacher said.

As time goes, he'd be there for your small break sessions

For you did one day promise you'd take breaks in between the hours you almost comically stretch to unnaturally long sets. At first he wouldn't be there, definitely busy with his own work — but eventually did he appear more often, like he knew when you'd take your breaks. He wanted to just be there for your comfort and his assurance that you're fine, but he speaks sometimes.

"(Name)," He calls out your name in his voice you'd always relax your head to, "Would you like more water? I'll get some for you."

"Ahaha, you're a bit more caring today Fyodor." You joke out quietly, a laugh to hopefully let him take the word as something light. "But yes please, thank you."

A laugh to momentarily break the pressure you put for yourself and the concern you put for him was enough to make him smile in that same moment.

Your loyal fan

If you didn't mind it; Fyodor is always delighted to watch your practices at home, especially because he's one of the firsts to see all of your dedication before the crowd gets to see your angelic play of ballet. May it be as long as practicing a section of a dance you were going to preform soon, or even just as warming up with positions — he loved watching you, soothing his mind away from his continuous thinking.

"I must say, milaya, I don't believe I've seen that position before." Fyodor's chin rests on his intertwined fingers as his elbows meet the desk he was sitting at.

"Mm? Ah- emboîté is more of a set of steps though." You reply back, staying in your position to let the talk settle. "I still find myself a bit stiff with it, so I'm practicing it right now."

"Is that so?" He puts his hands down. "I'm intrigued then. Do continue."

Usually those points get you to explain the steps you're doing if you're still energized for talk, your voice able to make your lovely viewer also a listener. Sometimes he lies about having no knowledge to it, sometimes he just wants you to explain it to him. For you would he listen to your talk and ramble about ballet, even if he didn't do ballet himself.

Your own, visible worry breaks Fyodor's barrier of hiding his

He wouldn't want to overwhelm you with his constant check-ups like "are you okay?" or "want me to do anything?", because he'd rather have you ask for it or allow his eyes to see your physical body speak for its status. Plus, he knows you're an independent beauty who can handle herself. But when you start involuntarily stressing out however.. it's not so pretty to him.

"Shh, shh shh. Milaya, I'm here." He coos to you as he leans on the mirror behind him, holding you close in his arms with your sobbing face on his shoulder.

"You did that step so well," Fyodor whispers, one hand stroking your hair. "Be proud of yourself."

Deep down it wasn't so easy for him to know what words he should say to you, finding your fear and anxiousness unnecessary for such talent you hold in something not everyone can just do. But of course was it understandable, so he tries. Be it speaking words when he thinks you need it, grabbing you something or just holding you — do expect a lot of care to try and soothe you.

Taking care of your body gently like you're a rosebud

It doesn't happen so often, Fyodor knowing you were still able to tend to yourself. But to say something doesn't happen often doesn't mean it never does — Fyodor always there for you when you ask for it.

"Milaya, perhaps its time for another break, wouldn't you say?" He quietly suggests like a lullaby, not wanting to interrupt whatever may be in your head right now.

"I'm okay." You try to assure, "My teacher requires me to perfect this in a week... I'll perfect it, and rest if I can."

"'If I can' won't do.." He replied with a more audible voice, hands meeting your feet as he gently rubs them, "While a flower like you gets watered daily, she needs her sunlight as well."

The most he can usually do for you is to massage you or rub your sore feet from all the practice, set aside the other things he can do that mostly treat your mental being than such physical. But every time he caresses your aching body is it always so careful and much more delicate, also attentive to your own saying about your comfort.

scenario

It'd been a few hours since your practice for today. You ended up promising to Fyodor that today would be shorter than the ones you took these past consecutive days, but you deep down feel guilty for doing so.

The days to attending practice in an actual dance studio again were nigh. You were going to see your teacher in two days, and you still had to compose yourself for whatever word they'll tell you.

Of course, their criticism also helped you and your progress to the world of ballet. You were treated as if a unique flower each time you hear something you can learn from — a bit overwhelming to the ears, however important to know for being the one seen with improvement.

It still made you nervous though.

As your foot finally feels the hard pressure of the floor after having your toes balance you the whole session, you pause with your hands holding onto the barre you swore was cold this morning, now all matching your body temperature.

"Milaya, are you taking a break?" You suddenly hear a familiar voice welcome itself in your ear, a smile reaching your tired face as you see your boyfriend walking inside your small studio.

He didn't visit as much today, which honestly made you a bit upset. But at least it also aided you into giving your all earlier, even if that such was for him anyway.

"Hi, Fedya." You greet, your feminine and angelic voice equally meeting a smile on your lovers. "I'm done for today. Like I promised you."

"I'm glad to hear that." Fyodor steps closer to you with a hand gesturing its desire to touch you, to which you allow.

His slightly cold hand meets your forehead as he wipes a small bead of sweat off, head tilted a little as if concerned for you. "Would you like me to get you anything?" Was his first set of words, his other hand meeting your waist as if to give you some sort of closure.

"No, I'm fine." You deny, although as you spoke you did feel your throat a bit dry.

I do need water.. but I don't want him to leave yet.

Until a thought sparks in you.

"Mm, there is something I kind of want right now." You imply with a rather smug, yet still an adorable little smile. This wouldn't slip away from Fyodor's eyes, replying to it with his own chuckle. "And what would that be? I'm here to give what I can."

"I still feel guilty for finishing practice early." You start to explain, one of your own hand meeting to press on the hand which held your waist. "I feel like I should be giving more time, since I'll be seeing my teacher soon."

You see a temporary look on Fyodor's face. A look that indicated his own dislike for you finding the need to have your own time be controlled by another person, even if you weren't in the studio of which they have right to parry through.

But he doesn't discuss it. Instead he softens his gaze, unwilling to argue with you. "I am not forcing you on this matter, milaya. I am simply suggesting you breaks in between your hard work."

"I know," You reply, an expression of what deemed to be curiosity on your now tilted head. He knew this was just to get his ears in lead, but regardless was your face cute. "But I'll finish todays practice.. after we do something first."

"(Name), I'm not experienced in ballet." He immediately recalls to you, a genuine look of his own curiosity written on his face. You nod to the note, "I know. But you're good in blending in, right?"

Silence temporarily controls the room, although Fyodor reassuring you no anger was present in the moment with his gaze on you — hands carefully holding you.

"Oh, I see." He eventually speaks up, letting go of your waist. "You'd like us to have a duet?"

His grasp of understanding your point makes you eagerly nod, "Yeah. A pas de deux is what we call it." explaining its term to your clueless looking boyfriend.

A smile meets his lips to the answer you have thoughtlessly given, enjoying your disregard to hide vulnerability with your sleepiness. "Pas de deux is French. A step of two?"

"Yes!" You exclaim rather excitedly, both of your hands finding its fingers to interlock into fists as your right palm leans back, earning you this.. almost pleading pose. "But don't worry- I won't make you do work.. I just want us to have an adagio."

"As long as I've seen you do such pose, I could give you the possibility of me doing it." He puts a side comment to before replying properly; "But of course. An adagio is where the danseur supports the ballerina's movements, am I right?"

"How do you know that..?" You furrow your eyebrows to, a small yet blithe pout on your face. "My, you suddenly rambled about that before." Fyodor hums out, a hand on his chin. "But nevermind that, milaya. We can do that if such is your wish," He stops to escape a little laugh, "however I'm not a danseur exactly."

"No but you're certainly my partner." You fight back, taking a swift glance at Fyodor's appearance. He was simply wearing a turtleneck and pants, which would do. Because really, you just wanted to feel him while you did what you loved.

Your remark makes Fyodor laugh before you two knew your place — him behind you with arms supporting your waist, toes returning into balancing yourself. You wanted to impress your lover, but with how tired you actually were you internally doubted what balance you had left in you.

So you chose one you could do right now. Little less of what you wanted, but you hoped it could impress him somehow.

One of your leg was supporting your body, the other is extended into an arabesque. You felt Fyodor's grip on you tighten a little bit, the corner of your eye catching his head turned to you.

Your arm which was adjacent to your lifted leg stays where it is as your left makes its attempt to draw its move... till you find yourself yawning.

Immediately did you bashfully cover your mouth as pink meets your cheeks, Fyodor holding onto you tightly in case you trip due to the sudden surprise. As you yawn he carefully adjusts you, enough for you to get the hint and let your feet meet the floor again.

You didn't want to see his face right now out of pure embarrassment, but his move tells you to as he turns you around, hands locking on your waist to support you.

As expected, not a look of mockery or humorous find was in his face, rather.. concern, but also still soft.

"You're too sleepy." He whispers, one hand letting go of the latch to meet your face, brushing away those strands of hair. "This lovely ballerina should sleep now."

"But the..." Your voice trails, a tiny frown painting on your face as he wipes it away with a kiss on each side of your lip, turning that into a better look. "There now, there's no need to frown." He spoke quietly, "If you want it that badly, we can try it tomorrow."

"...Okay," Defeat mourns your words in, trying to conceal the topic of your embarrassing yawn with a lean in, asking for a proper kiss by Fyodor. And it didn't even take a minute for him to allow the need, pressing his lips with yours.

Gentle and delicate circles rub your back as you melt at both the kiss and at the sudden but welcoming massage, hands holding onto his shoulders for support.

His kiss felt warm, tranquilly and clement. While his earlier, very rare visits to your practice room were gifted with kisses, they were all tiny and lacking.

And you could tell he enjoyed this as well, his fingers making subtle movements that felt like little shivers down your waist. A comforting one, at least.

The kiss takes shorter as you desired, however he makes up for it by peppering sweet kisses on your knuckles to the hand he picked up with his free one, eyes closed.

"я тебя люблю, my milaya." He mutters in between those kisses. "You're such a strong girl. Be mindful of that."

Your mousy pink cheeks meet the peachy hue he knew it'd blend to, a smile meeting your lips again as you let your fingers rest on his, your thumb catching his own to rub the skin. "I love you too."

His hand lets go of yours as he stops. His hand on your back would glide down to your waist to touch again as he pulls you in closer, you taking that as a hug. Both of your hands wrap around him, whilst his free hand continued the relieving massage.

"It's alright. Let's get yourself changed then head to bed, okay?" He whispers in your ear, to which you hum a sleepy sound to.

You didn't want to sleep right now, as much as how warm and serene he was to lean onto. But knowing he probably was also too tired to be carrying a girl even if such was his girlfriend, you had to stay awake till the envelope of sheets surround you two.

Yet staying awake till then wouldn't be as bad either. You'd get to hear and see your lover take care of you.. to rub all those sore spots away, and importantly be here for you.

"Besides, if a pas de deux means a step for two — you can technically count this in... wouldn't you think?" He suddenly adds, finding his unexpected thought carry through vocalized words.

His own surprise for himself makes him let out a tiny chuckle from it, muffling the noise with a soft peck on your shoulder.

"Because you being so strong with everything you're dealing with is already a step for us two."

⚘

[reasonsmandy]

It's just me, you and the sea.

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Hey there love! I got this idea: The reader is a director, especially music videoclips, she is Billy and Graham's sister (or not, your choice). When she's working, she is very professional, very confident too, but outside of work, she's a little more insecure, shy, and quiet, and Warren just loses his mind for her. He loves to make her nervous, especially because when he tries to flirt with her on sets, she just doesn't play along, you know. BUT, she thinks he's only messing with her. I also got this "vision" in mind of them talking at a party while she writes (because of course she kind of wants to be a movie director one day too). You can use it if you like😊 You can choose how it ends (hopefully a happy ending...? 😂)

✧.* summary — Your work has always been something that made you proud and happy and when you joined to serve the most famous band of the moment it was no different. The difference was the look he made you have over everything in just one rainy afternoon.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 3.3k

✧.* 🥁 — warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I promised I'd come back and here I am, how are you? So, I know you suggested a party but I wanted to change the scene a bit, I hope you like it. Good reading 🫶🏾

The red lights adorned you along with the heat, you would hang the still-soaked revealed images on the strings while you thought about the next projects to come and how you would do them. The bedroom door opens catching your attention, you turn to see the figure of a brunette woman with her own series of images to reveal, you greet her with a smile and she takes a stand by your side.

Despite being an implicit rule in those environments where the art of photography should be admired, and that's what she did by looking at your photos hanging there.

“They are really beautiful.” You can hear the sincerity in her voice and it brings you comfort that pushes away your shyness.

“Thanks…” You release the last clip, and look at all the pictures with pride. “I'm more into filming but…for the first time with photos it wasn't bad, was it?”

“Not bad at all, they are amazing.” She points out. “You said you work with filming?” She asks the question expecting you to craft a conversation with her.

“Yeah, yes I've been working with filming for a while now. I started with some short films but now I'm making video clips. But I want something bigger, maybe to be a movie director someday.” You explain and she looks genuinely interested, you deduce this is a gift from her just from the minutes you spend together.

“Oh that sounds amazing.” She says now putting her pictures next to yours. “My husband is in a band, you know?”

“Really? Is it him in this picture?”

Camila nods, you tap your forehead turning to her.

“I'm sorry for being rude, my name is Y/N and yours?”

“I'm Camila.” She says, opening a majestic smile. “You should stop by the house sometime, I'd love to see your work. I'm sure my husband's band would love to have you record something for them.”

…

Warren was the last to sit down at the table, which automatically made him take everyone's subject in half. He bites the chicken wing while watching each of his friends trying to understand, effortlessly he lets himself be carried away in the observation.

“Cami, you can’t make compromises for us like that.” Billy says through a sigh, leaning his body back against the chair. “And it's even more complicated now that Daisy has to agree to everything before we do anything as a band.”

Camila tries not to show how the comment had upset her.

“Look, I know it can be tricky, but I understand that. Her work is really cool, it suits you. And who better to know that than me?” She jokes, eliciting a genuine smile from Eddie and Karen.

“I think it's worth a try” Karen says.

“It won't hurt anyone if we give it a chance." Eddie shrugs, with a smile. “And I trust your gut.”

“Sorry if I'm too high, but what the fuck are we talking about?” Warren interrupts, capturing everyone's attention.

Camila explains to him how he met you and her idea to make a music video for the band with her ideas and her direction, he instantly gets excited with the thought and volunteers to help Camila with whatever she needed and to help Billy convince Daisy too.

It wasn't difficult to get Jones to agree with the idea, the label also thought it was wonderful and soon the idea of the clip being released along with the tour dates was their great marketing strategy. The chosen song was 'Let Me Down Easy' by everyone's vote and the final touch was to look for you again to adjust the creative ideas and the budget of the project.

You knock three times on the door of Billy and Camila's house and wait for someone to answer you. The things in your bag were hanging while you felt the cool breeze against your body. The door is opened and your gaze lifts to see Rojas' curls and his eyes that smile at you, you straighten your body looking professional waiting for him to say something.

“You must be Y/N” His warm voice says, opening the door for you to enter. “Make yourself at home, if you want a beer or a cigarette we have everything outside.” He approaches you, as if to tell you a secret. “We don't keep any of that around Jules.”

You laugh at how excited he was, following him out of the house where everyone was gathered. Everyone's eyes on you make you a little uncomfortable but the drummer's hand on your shoulder brings you minimal comfort.

“The little star has arrived.” Warren makes sure to announce you, You frown at the nickname but smile small at the same time.

“It's so good to see you.” Camila comes to hug you tight. “Guys, this is Y/N… Y/N, This is Graham, Karen, Daisy, Billy and of course Warren that you met already. I'll let you guys talk about the clip and stay with Jules inside, if you need me just call.”

She approaches Billy and kisses him before walking through the doors of the house.

“So, do you have requirements for this project?” You say opening your notepad, ready to write whatever they were going to suggest.

They look at each other, you can see out of the corner of their eyes that they're waiting for someone to say something.

“Would you rather it be a clip of you performing with a story told through the music?” You drop another question, seeing that no one has said anything.

“Us playing is a pretty cool idea.” Billy seemed inclined to this suggestion but at the same time as his agreement was said Daisy's expression is one of denial.

“You know this is a song full of history, it would be perfect for us to show a story to our audience in it. After all, to see us playing they go to the show. We should do something new.”

“I kinda agree.” Eddie says, leaning his body back. “We can innovate with some storytelling.”

Billy frowned, you could see he didn't like to be crossed.

“Maybe we can mix the two ideas?” Graham suggests, you write it down.

“Don't worry Cariño, you'll get used to it eventually.”

You turn to him smiling a little embarrassed by the nickname, you close your notebook, leaning in to observe the band better.

“Well, I think we could mix the two ideas but... If my opinion as a professional is relevant, Daisy has a point.” You looked more at Warren while he spoke, for some reason he gave you confidence. “Nobody watches a clip with just the band playing, not the whole clip at least, you know?”

“So what do you suggest?” Billy says grumpy.

“I think we can use you as characters, telling the story of the song, so the audience gets to know the band members and focus on the lyrics through that story.”

“You're awesome.” Warren whispers in your ear, you open a small smile.

“You want us to act?” Graham asks.

“If it's not difficult for you, we can leave it enigmatic too. Obviously there will be no lines, what do you think of us doing a script?”

“Mi Alma, Maybe I'm being a little dumb but why script it if we don't have lines?” Warren asks.

“It would be a script for us to align what we are going to do, who will be the role, what story we will tell. This kind of thing.”

“Got It, keep going hermosa.”

“I like you!" Daisy utters, giving you a captivating smile. “I think we can start working on that, everyone agrees?”

Everyone agrees, even Billy, which is surprising.

“I can start working then, amazing, call me in two days.” You pack your things in your bag, looking at them one more time as a second check. “Any other requirements?”

Nobody answers you, so you take your work there for granted. Getting up to leave.

“Wait, I'll walk you to the door.” Warren is quick to follow you.

Upon entering the house again, her body warms up more because it is abandoned by the breeze outside, Camila, who was in the living room playing with Julia, is quick to get up with the toddler in her arms to say goodbye.

“How was it? Everything worked out?” She asks, Julia playing with her hair.

“Yeah, I'm full of ideas.” You answer excitedly, unconsciously sticking your purse to your body.

“She is a genius, Cami.” Warren says.

“You haven’t even seen my ideas yet.” You laugh, watching him with a smirk on your face.

“Tell me then.” You are taken aback by his answer, you didn't expect his interest to be so lasting. “I really want to know.”

You don't know how to respond, you look at Camila as a question, a request for help perhaps. She opens a smirk, you regret your choice instantly.

“There's a quiet beach nearby, I think you might like it.” Camila suggests, you arch your eyebrows. The corner of your eye going to Warren. “Maybe Warren is free to…”

“I am, I'm totally free.” He responds so fast that you can't help but laugh a little. “Are you up for it, tesoro?”

Camila nods, as if asking you to trust her.

“Okay, take me there.”

…

Warren's van stops a little away from the sand, on a cloudy day you knew the beach would be empty or at least with few people. You open the passenger seat window on the way in, aiming to feel the breeze on your face as a way to let go of the anxiety of the moment. Warren drove there, watching your movements in detail, just amazed by you.

The engine cuts off and then he turns to you, waiting for what you were going to do next. You after a while turn from the window to observe the curly haired man.

“So, tell me more about yourself, nena.” He says, you lean closer to him but not too much.

“Well, it's been a while since I moved here.I'm passionate about filming and directing, I've been producing my own thing but.” You give up talking, ashamed, few were the people who saw that potential in you.

“Really?” His eyes sparkle with excitement, you feel your heart race. “Damn it mami, is there anything you don’t do?”

“Lots of things actually Rojas, what's up with the nicknames, uh?” Your body leaning back against the bench was what he admired.

“They suit you.” He shrugs, adjusting his curls. “Now come on, let's go for a swim.”

He expected you to deny the suggestion, but you just open the van door and run across the sand. He flashes a gigantic smile and is quick to chase after you.

The closer you got to the sand, the more adrenaline was the essential boost to give you the courage to enter the icy waters. But that didn't seem to bother you at the time, you take your shirt off and leave it on the nearest rock before letting the water wet your skin.

“Come on, did you give up?” You yell at him, and he hurries to meet you there.

“Never, princesa.”

After a while in the water, you return to the sand, walking together to the most comfortable rocks to sit together. He helps you up, and you sit watching the clouds darken as the wind picks up, you hug your body trying to avoid the cold but the idea is without purpose and conclusion.

“That was so fun.” He says a little breathless.

“Yeah it was.” You agree, smiling at him. “But it's getting so cold…” Her voice came out shaky from the weather.

“Let's go to the van.” He helps you get up and guides you to the vehicle, and as the weather is waiting for you to leave, the rain starts to fall.

When you get into the van the adrenaline is still in you, Warren closes the windows so he can make the environment warmer for you, while the silence was comfort for both of you. He turns to you.

“I can drop you home now if you want.” he says, wishing your response was the opposite.

“I actually don't.” You say, taking your notebook off your bag. “I had so many ideas for your clip.”

“Meaning?” He asks, feeling happy to witness your explosion of creativity.

“Meaning I'll stay in your car until I finish my script.” You say poking the tip of his nose with the pencil. “I'm sorry… I don't want to take up your whole night.”

“Are you kidding me?” He speaks excitedly, turning completely towards you to see you better. “I'm so ready for this!”

“You want to participate?” Surprised, you question, unable to contain your smile.

“Of course I want, tell me, what do you need?” He says, ready to start the van engine.

“I mean, I could eat” You shrug, very happy to have more time with him.

“So that's it cariño, We're getting food and then spending the rest of the necessary time in this van working together!”

He drives for as long as he can on the road near the waterfront, a request from you, that you keep your creativity. The rain was still falling, making a steady pattern against the window, which strangely helped you to concentrate which he quickly notes, finding it adorable. After getting your food he brings you back to the same beach, you can't stop thinking about how much gas he was wasting, which made you laugh.

“You know, now I can say with absolute certainty that you are amazing.” Warren says after a long silence, the water droplets are now falling unevenly. You turn to him, closing the notebook.

“Again Rojas, you haven't seen anything yet.” You sigh, laying your head on his shoulder. “I don't know if I'm doing a good job anyway.”

“Can I see what you have ready?” He asks gently, reaching out to take his notebook.

Every second he read it was more torturous for you, so you focus on the water for a bit hoping his calmness will help your heart to do the same.

“This is amazing, really, you are a volcano of creativity.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “No need to exaggerate, but that was the funniest compliment I've ever received.”

“I'm not exaggerating, I'm great with it. They will love it, trust me.” He strokes her hair, kissing the top of her head. “I've known them forever, and I know this is going to turn out spectacular.

“I don't know why I'm being insecure about this job…” You whisper, still lying on his shoulder.

“I don't want to screw this up or let Cami down

...”

You don't finish the sentence, you leave what you were thinking in the air

“Look mi cielo, the sun is rising... How about we walk along the shore together? While we think about the end of this script?”

You break into a huge smile “Did you by any chance come out of a romantic comedy?”

“That's where you go wrong, I'm a mix of all kinds of movies.” He takes turns when he notices that the rain was now just more water in the distant sea. He opens the door going to the beach again, you notice that this time he leaves his shoes in the van, his vest still wet was there too.

You shake your head at the person he is, how he made everything seem simple and light, you see him waiting for you on the sand and open the door without hesitation. Going towards him little by little, for Rojas it was like watching a work in motion, beauty and calm was what you meant to him every minute more together with you.

He brings his hands to your waist, and you automatically tuck yours around his neck, closely watching his every expression.He smiles, pulling you close in a hug, you feel welcomed like you haven't felt in a long time, he pulls away to guide you along the shore as promised.

“Hermosa…” He calls you, and you notice only now that you got so used to all the nicknames he gave you. “I would like to know more about that project of yours that you mentioned earlier.”

Your body freezes, you turn to him looking for any hint of irony or joke, there is none. He just smiled, happy and curious about everything that his person was involved in.

“I don't have a lot ready, but I wanted something more thought out before starting any recordings.” You talk by walking with your feet dragging instead of lifting them when you step. “But basically it's the story of an incomplete romance, which never worked out in the past, but due to a certain event they meet again.But there's a reason why this romance didn't work out, and I want to show that as my story goes on, making my audience figure it out at the climax and ultimately resolve the conflict. Of course it's not just about the romance, there are supporting characters and other characters I want to elaborate on, but this is what I have ready.”

“I would watch this for sure.” You knew that Golden retriever impersonation wasn't lying to you. “I would love to see everything you're doing, like, see the things you have ready and maybe inspire you to put a beautiful drummer character in it.”

“Do you want to be my muse Rojas?” You speak with a smirk on your face, he licks his lips and then smiles at you, the tension between you two growing.

“Maybe I want to cariño.” He whisper, getting closer to you, the light was still weak because the sun was rising slowly, your clothes were still relatively cold due to the adventure they had in diving the waters earlier, when his hands slowly go to your waist over the shorts you were wearing, your body shivers visibly.

Warren notices, and pulls away a little afraid he's crossed a line with you. You take his hands as he pulls away, placing them back on your waist. Slowly you lift your hands from his neck to the nape of his neck, stroking the wet curls tenderly.

“I want you to be, but not only that…” You say shyly, your gaze momentarily going to waves. “Whatever this is here, this connection, I want us to continue. Like, seeing each other even after the clip is done.”

“You can be sure this will happen.” He reassures you, kissing your forehead.

You pull back after the cuddle to look him in the eyes, and stare at the drummer's lips. You take a deep breath and pull him close to you, kissing his lips gently and slowly. Feeling the fireworks in his stomach explode with each touch, he pulls you closer to feel his body more, caressing your waist as he feels your fingers play with his locks. You've never had such an incredible work experience.

He wraps his arms around your waist tighter and lifts you up, you start laughing as you ask him over and over again what he was doing, he guides you once again to the waters where you watch together as the sun takes over the sun and gradually warms your skin, you play and have fun for a time that you don't see go by and you didn't want to.

“Won’t the others be worried about your disappearance?” You ask, hugging him like the waters hugged you. The crystal clear water showed you how beautiful your bodies were together.

“I don't care, I want to stay with you a little longer." He confesses, making you roll your eyes with a smile. He kisses you one more time, not caring about anything around her. “Don't worry about anything else, it's just me, you and the sea.”

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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[sophaeros]

julian casablancas for mojo magazine, november 2024 / issue 372 (x x)

Rock'n'roll Confidential: Julian Casablancas

The Strokes/Voidz mainman talks entitlement, respect and Arctic Monkeys

3AM (Pacific Coast Time) is an atypical hour to schedule an interview. But here's Julian Casablancas, zooming from Los Angeles, where the singer, for so long synonymous with the grit and glamour of New York City, has lived since 2020. He's a busy man: as well as fronting long-running garage rock classicists The Strokes - whose sixth album The New Abnormal won a Grammy in 2020 - he's found a refuge of sorts in his experimental, '80s synths-enabled group The Voidz, whose new LP Like All Before You is imminent. Talking to MOJO, Casablancas remains in shadow, his eyes occasionally reflecting dim light. "I can be a vampire," he promises. "You want a real rock star, bro? But I can be flexible and go into family mode too…"

What are you doing up at 3am, talking to MOJO? It's about the only time I have free. The rest of the time, it's videos and working with managers, going to concerts, social things… so l go all the way around, to crazy night hours.

The new album starts with Overture and ends with Walk Off - is there a concept lurking within? I guess a little. Maybe subconsciously. It hopefully hits if you have taken mushrooms. I had just watched Gone With The Wind, and they used to have overtures at the beginning of movies, and then we end the album with a synthesizer version. But it is not a rock opera story. If anything, the concept was going to be a one-word album title. At first, it was Zeal, then Perseverance.

How do you switch mindsets between Voidz and Strokes songwriting? Voidz songs are where my mind has been pushing me, and where I want to go, and where I am. But the ability or capability or muscle memory of writing Strokes-sequel stuff is just always going to be there. When those songs appear, it makes more sense to put them in each category, but it's not always that clear. But there's more 'no-limits' with The Voidz.

You recently said, "My current solution is to tour with The Strokes and then use the money to record with The Voidz." How did that happen? Years of drama and betrayals and horseshit (laughs). Honestly, l am cool with most of the dudes, and now we're more mature. It's not what I set out to do, but it's a fun, cool day job that I feel blessed to have. But let's just say I was only in a band called Zog, and whatever I worked on 10 years ago in Zog, I would not be interested in any more, I'm only interested in what I'm working on now. It's just the nature of music and creativity, you know?

What did you set out to do with The Strokes? I just wanted to challenge boundaries, and to have an ambitious collective of respectful teammates. Is that The Voidz? For me, yes.

The cliché about Strokes issues is that you were rich kids who weren't hungry enough. Any truth in that? Success affects people in different ways. I'd say there are some elements, probably from me as well, where you can be entitled… all kinds of bands have fallings outs and drama. It wasn't like, Oh, we don't need the money. I think it did take a lot of hunger to get there, but then after you've achieved something, when everyone is kissing each individual member's ass… OK, let's get back to work and do it again. It was like, Uh, no thanks. That's my assessment.

The Arctic Monkeys song Star Treatment starts out, "I just wanted to be one of The Strokes." What was your reaction? I thought, Be careful what you wish for. It was funny, and flattering. I have a lot of respect for Alex and those boys.

Tell us something you've never told an interviewer before. I've been trying to communicate with crows lately. I heard they have an intricate sonic language, but I haven't had any luck. It occurred to me that food would help, so I was trying to feed one M&M's earlier, but he wasn't having it. People can catch me making weird noises, trying to mimic the crow. I think the crows are more startled than the humans.

As told to Martin Aston

JULIAN, DOPE Five of Casablancas's crackers.

Brian Eno Burning Airlines Give You So Much More (ISLAND, 1974)

Benny Goodman Good-Bye (VICTOR, 1936)

Kate Bush Why Should I Love You? (EMI, 1993)

Max Richter Path 5 (Delta) (DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON, 2015)

BEAK> Secrets (INVADA, 2024)

[rageofthemuffin]

Valentine's Day Sneak Peek

I've actually made really decent progress on the werewolf au the past few days, and while I'm not going to make any promises about when the next chapter is coming, hopefully it's pretty soon!

Anyway, here's a snippet of the chapter as a reward for your patience:

---

As the full moon neared, Cody grew more and more agitated.  He was quieter, but Obi-Wan could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes darted back and forth in search of threats, the way his hands had to be touching Obi-Wan or his breath would catch in his throat, panic lighting up his face.

Sex was one of the only things that could get him to relax for more than a minute or two, and his sex drive had started to rival Obi-Wan’s earlier in his pregnancy.  Not that Obi-Wan minded, he’d never been more sexually gratified in his life.  He just wished it didn’t have to be attached to something that brought Cody so much anxiety.  

Despite Obi-Wan’s assurances that the wolf didn’t scare him, assurances which he wholeheartedly meant, he was worried about how the full moon would be for Cody.  The man was barely eating, constantly on edge, and though he didn’t say anything, Obi-Wan knew he was in some amount of physical discomfort.  Waking up seemed harder, and Obi-Wan had caught Cody wincing one too many times to brush it off.

If he didn’t know any better, Obi-Wan would have thought Cody was teething, and maybe he was, in a way.  In addition to his need to constantly touch Obi-Wan, his teeth were almost constantly nibbling on some part of him.

Currently, it was his shoulder as they came down from their most recent bout of lovemaking.  Obi-Wan brushed his fingers through Cody’s short hair, his other hand gently rubbing Cody’s neck and shoulders in an attempt to ease some of his discomfort.

“Cody?”

Cody grunted, his mouth still intently working at the skin above his collarbone.

“Will you tell me what will happen on the full moon?”

Cody stilled, unmoving.  “You already know what’s going to happen.”

“Generally, yes,” Obi-Wan agreed.  “But what do you do while you’re out there?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it, Obi-Wan, maybe after-”

“I know,” Obi-Wan interrupted.  And truly, he didn’t want to push Cody about the topic when he was already so on edge.  “But I think if I don’t know, I’ll be up all night worrying.”

“You’ve seen it before,” Cody grumbled petulantly, rolling onto his side and pulling Obi-Wan closer.

“Yes, but I was exhausted and convinced I was having some sort of hallucination to ease me into my death,” Obi-Wan said wryly.  “I didn’t know you then.”

Cody sighed heavily.  “I won’t be in any danger.  We just hunt.”

Obi-Wan blinked, mildly surprised.  “Really?”

“You expected worse, didn’t you?” Cody asked, amusement coloring the weariness in his voice.

“Only because you hate talking about it so much.”

“That’s not the part that I don’t like,” Cody said.  “I hate the feeling of not being in control.  Kote just does whatever he wants to, and I can’t stop him.”

“Seems like all he wants to do is hunt,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

“Most of the time,” Cody nodded.  “Did I tell you he tried to find you?”

“I think he did find me.”

“No, before that.  Right after the first time we met.”

Obi-Wan leaned back slightly so he could see Cody’s face.  “Really?”

Cody nodded.  “He tried to track you down.  I tried so hard to pull him back, to convince him he didn’t need to do that, but he didn’t listen.  He never listens when he’s the one in control.  My brothers had to spend the whole night herding him back into our territory.”

Obi-Wan tucked his face back against Cody’s bare chest, relieved he had brothers who cared about him to help him through the night.  “Well, now I’m here.  You have no reason to leave the territory.”

“Yeah.”

“That seems scary, though, not being able to control your own body,” Obi-Wan sympathized.  

“It was.  It is.”

“Do you think Kote feels the same way during the rest of the month?” Obi-Wan couldn’t help asking.

Cody stiffened.  “Not a good time for this, Obi-Wan,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan accepted with a flash of guilt.  “I’m sorry.”

Cody just sighed again, pressing a long kiss to Obi-Wan’s hair.  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said after a while.  

“So am I.”

[starry-bi-sky]

Hello! I think you probably don't remember me, but I'm the anonymous that loves giant women and is, like, half way through planning the fic inspired by your Fem Danny that will one day, hopefully, exist in something other than daydreams.

I just have to take something out of my chest but I don't have anyone to talk about this, so I'm sorry for just showing up — I just wanted to say that I started paying attention to DC after devouring my first DPxDC crossover, because I love crossovers and I love DP, but like, the more I know about that thing (searching details to write the fic), the more I would like to just bleach my mind

I'm not saying that everything is bad, it's just that the bad things are so, so bad that it destroys the good stuff for me to the point where I would never see the character in the same light — because everything that happens in one comic is cannon in a universe, so yes, someone really did that — and I'm not going to say what I found out recently because it's bad and I don't want to pollute your ask with that information

Superhero writers are crazy, both Marvel and DC, and I have no idea how their editors allowed them to post some of their works thinking that everything was going to be ok, because, like— *inhuman screech* I don't even have words!!!!

(this is just my rant because I'm vanilla -extract- and even if I like my characters with so many flaws their flags are painted red by the blood of their enemies, I still have lines, so I'm sorry for just putting this here, you can just ignore if you want)

I DO REMEMBER YOU, I'VE BEEN WONDERING ABOUT YOU BROSKI! GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, SERIOUSLY! <3 GL ON THE FIC PLANNING FOR FEM DANNY I FEEL YOU ON THAT. Me with my half-finished godling dp fic in my google docs. I've been wanting to get back on that for a month now,,,,

And honestly you're super valid here! I was tentative to post this because, like you mentioned, it's a vent. But I wanted to let you know that it's okay! Don't be sorry about just randomly showing up, it's really good to hear from you even if it's just to get something off your chest <3. I don't know all the terrible stuff in comics that have happened, but I do know some basics in DC -- like Bruce's abusive parenting -- that i've heard about. And you're right, it's totally crazy what happens in these universes, and it can be really hard to overlook them even if they're from different worlds.

I'll admit, I'm none too good at giving advice for stuff like this but the best thing I can say -- and I'm assuming and seeing from your ask that you probably already are -- is that you eventually learn when to pick and choose what to take and what to leave. And whenever you see something unpleasant a character did, it's one big resigned sigh and an "of course" before deciding to ignore it. Which can be hard! It's a lot of practice. Take your time processing and coming to terms with it, and moving on!

No shame in being vanilla extract either! It takes time and exposure to slowly become okay with things -- and that's only if you want to, ofc. Some stuff that I'm interested in now are things I wouldn't have touched a year or two ago. Everyone has their lines, I can't stand dissection/lab experimentation fics and I doubt I'll ever actively write them, I can imply and write the after effects of it happening. No shame in it :)

And!! Feel free to drop by whenever if you wanna talk more fem! danny or smth or other. I'd be delighted! I can't promise I'll get to the ask right away (I have a handful of stillborn danyal au asks still sitting here in my ask box that I need to respond to but haven't had the time or energy to) but I promise that I will see it and appreciate it.

[vulpeskorsak]

Day 10 of Whumptober 2024: Rain

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | “I can’t think straight.”

AO3 got banned in my country and VPNs have not been working well on my PC lately, so I am not going to post these there for now. But hopefully I can do that at some point.

This is taking place in my own DnD/fantasy world.

Elias is a young magistrate cursed to turn into a blue half-reptile half-man doing his best to hide and temporarily reverse it.

Continuing directly from Day 1 (a couple days later).

--------------

Rain

Elias does not know how long he has spent under that tree. He woke up a couple of times and tried to get out but his limbs ache horribly and his half-burnt tail is in utter agony still. He thought lizard tail were supposed to heal quickly. His does not.

At last, he is able to stay conscious enough to listen. And after lying awake for a record time, trying to gather enough strength to get up, he can hear someone approaching. Soft steps on crunchy leaves and branches. They do not appear to be hurried or threatening on their own but he can't help but freeze in fear, almost forgetting his pain. What if they attack him on sight? He does look like a monster. He is hulking reptilian creature with blue scales and a feathery head. He has large claws on large and powerful hands and sharp teeth in a mouth that opens too wide and too far.

He hopes they will not try their luck with a scary beast den… Yet somehow, they do.

He hears the steps approaching. He has no strength left to get out of the way, so he just prays that he is left alone. He is not.

A slender figure blocks the light from above, leaning down to look at him. It has long hair in a braid over their shoulder that hangs quite deep down into the den and a cloak, though Elias can't focus enough to distinguish any more details.

"Ah! There you are, my friend!" A relieved male voice exclaims, as its owner straightens his back slamming his skull into the tree root above. "FUCK! Ah! Gods-"

He covers his head with both of his hands, cursing in what sounds like orcish. Elias tilts his head in confusion. The man does not appear as threatening now but he should still be weary.

"Sssss... As I was saying..." The man finally manages to pick up where he left off. "I was afraid I miscast something… Hah! No need to doubt my own genius! Let- fuck- let me help you out."

Elias does not dare to move yet. He seems friendly enough. But how does he know him? He finds it hard to focus on trying to deduce that.

The man lets go of his aching head, carefully crouches and jumps down into the den, stumbling a little at the landing as his foot hits a loose bone.

"Fuck!" He curses again but looks up apologetically right away. "Forgive me, Lord Magistrate… You are him, right? Baron Elias Veritas Mercer? … Right? … I go by Rain, in case you do not recognize me... No? You know, I told you in my letters how long it takes to braid my hair, I was hoping you would- Never mind... We have agreed to meet three days ago, if you recall?"

Elias nods slowly, finally breathing out a sigh of relief, and forces himself to sit up. Right. The alchemist. His pen pal. Rain, who promised to take a look at his condition and try developing a better, if not permanent, solution for it.

"I- Yes… That is me…" He confirms, thought the words refuse to form right away. "My apologies. Sir Rain. I… can't think straight… You've found me in… quite a sorry state."

Rain shakes his head as he observes his scaly pen pal closer and frowns at the state of his tail and the bolt still stuck in his back.

"I can tell, my friend. I have heard of the hunt going on in town, but I did not put it together until you failed to sho- arrive. But not to worry! I am here to help! I've brought some potions with me, as always. Just tell me where it hurts."

Elias considers his words, trying to find a specific answer but fails.

"Everywhere," he admits.

Suddenly, the alchemist crouches down and picks up his tail trying to get a better look. Elias lets out a deafening roar in pain kicking at Rain instinctively and almost hitting his accidental target.

"Oh! Fuck! You might have gutted me with these claws if that landed..." Rain says with a mixture of caution and awe in his voice. "My bad! No worries, I'll patch you right up and then we can go to my house. It is not in the town itself, so you do not need to worry about those people again."

"Thank you…" Elias manages before passing out once again, this time with hope on his mind.

[babybulls15]

I have to be honest, I've been STRUGGLING for the past week, both life-wise and to get something on paper I don't despise. On top of that it's already pretty late, but I promised myself I'd keep doing this and it's actually really motivating to just share this stuff with you. So I'm hoping I'll get back into the flow by putting stuff out there. Keep pushing or smth idk lol

Anyways, we're moving on to my prompt-fill for day 2 of the Ship Week, which is hopefully gonna be a short and sweet Lestappen piece! I'm capping it at 500 words (which I've never done, making it very interesting to see how that affects my writing process), so I'll hopefully get it done on time!

It's a pretty drastic tonal shift from the others, bc it's just supposed to be something light-hearted and fluffy, which hasn't been easy to write, what with me stressed and shit, but it's starting to take shape somewhat. So yeah, I'm very excited to share these sentences with you!!

-

Yes, Max is usually very good at staying calm under stress. At going with the flow and reacting appropriately to sudden - sometimes pretty drastic - changes in high-pressure situations. Usually. But these skills are normally restricted to work. To race weekends. To circumstances where he is prepared to expect the unexpected. And, if anyone even cares (Charles doesn’t really) at least to Max, a sunny Saturday afternoon during summer break, sitting in his mother’s garden, drinking coffee, does not immediately spring to mind as a similar setting. But maybe that’s on him.

✨Stats✨

working title: (almost) everything is better with glitter

currently standing at 255 (out of 500) words

prompt-fill for day 2 of the All-Ships-Ship-Week (“Who did this to you?”)

it started it's life as a Maxiel piece, but I decided I liked the idea better for Lestappen

As always, if you read any of this I want you to know that I’m very grateful for you!! Thank you for giving me the time of day, I’m so glad you exist!! 💗💗💗

[blackjackkent]

Aight, time for some Thanksgiving Baldur's Gate bc all I am doing is hanging about the house. :D

We left off having finally made it to relative safety in the Last Light Inn and there are a number of things we need to do here (particularly having a drink with Jaheira), but the first priority before everything else is:

I think we can finally get Karlach's quest moving. The tiefling refugees (what's left of them) are definitely here, so before we do anything else, I want to go find the mechanic and see if he can do something for her engine. Because Hector is, let's be honest, definitely kinda falling for her and we need to open her dialogue tree up. XD

And there he is!

Hanging out in the stables with a forge and several oxen.

This guy, Dammon, is such a good dude tbh - and apparently Karlach knows him!

"The weaponsmith, right? Drafted into the Blood War when your city was swallowed by Avernus. Not too different from my own story. Well done making it out alive!"

Dammon recognizes immediately that she had an infernal engine and that it's busted; he has a listen and already has some ideas. He mentions needing infernal iron, and Karlach gets all excited at once.

"Hey, Soldier - we've got some infernal iron already! Let's give it to him, hey?"

Hector, of course, gives it to him eagerly - he's as invested in this as Karlach is, almost.

A bit of a letdown on the animation here to be honest. Dammon hammered on the iron for a bit and then told her she'd have to install it, and there was a shot of Karlach, from behind, fiddling with something in her chest area, and then she was done. Feels a bit handwavy tbh.

On the bright side...she's thrilled with the progress and gets all smiley!

"That feels...good! I'm still burning hot as Hell's hole, but I feel less...changeable. Cheers, mate!"

"Pleasure. As for the heat, I haven't got any solutions now, but I"m not giving up. Could be if the combustion chamber had its own insulation, or if we had some kind of enchanted coolant... Let me sleep on it. I just might be able to work something out. Hopefully the next time I see you, I'll have something promising to report. I'll need more infernal iron either way, though, so keep your eyes open."

Perfect. We'll do the other stuff in Last Light and then take a long rest and come back and talk to him again and decide where to go from there. (I might cheat and find out where more infernal iron is because I am a weak woman ultimately. :P )

Obviously we talk to Karlach again after...

"Dammon's upgrade didn't cool me down, but it did juice me up! I don't think I've ever felt more powerful."

It's obvious, just from looking at her, how much better she feels. He can see the energy coursing through her, a brighter light in her eyes. She's ready to fight, ready to move, ready to do anything.

He is happy for her. Of course he is. This is safety; she's no longer in danger of the thing spiraling out of control.

And yet...without realizing it, he had built this moment up in his mind; they would find the infernal mechanic, and then Karlach would be healed. The heat would fade, and perhaps he could...put a hand on hers in a difficult moment, touch her shoulder for encouragement...hold her...be held by her...

The thoughts have been percolating for some time, unacknowledged, and suddenly are surging to the forefront, unable to be ignored any longer. She has been his comfort in these awful frontiers. For a man who has spent his life in secluded study, these are feelings he does not quite know yet how to process...but they are inescapable.

And the words slip from him, longing, bewildered, before he knows he is going to say them.

"I still can't touch you, though..."

Her head draws back, surprised - and then a slight smile tugs the corners of her mouth. "Do you want to?" she asks.

He feels his own all-too-human heart start to thump with a power to rival the engine's. His throat suddenly feels slightly too tight. "Of course I do..." he says softly.

He wishes he wasn't so acutely aware of Gale and Shadowheart standing nearby. Gale has turned and begun studying the wall of the stable with academic interest, but Shadowheart is watching this play out with an unreadable expression.

He isn't sure what he expects. Some dramatic declaration of feelings he doesn't have words for, perhaps. But Karlach's smile just deepens, and she tips her head to one side. "I'd like that," she says. Her eyes flick across him from feet to head, then lock back on his gaze, burning like infernal embers. "Now...let's find that infernal iron, before I overheat."

[waterfallofspace]

Could you do 72 for r/anpo and p/oe with p/oe as the sick one

Thank you for the ask~~ I can indeed!! First time attempting them, so hopefully it's enjoyable~! (also gotta give credit to onetrickponi for her incredible idea of Karl's tail inducing sneezes from a wav she did that I've absolutely used here, hope that's alright~) 1.9k words, prompt 72, story under cut! 72. Person A hasn’t been sleeping due to work, and they of course get sick. Despite Person B’s wishes, Person A continues to sneak out of bed and stay up late to get more work done, and Person B is not happy. (Slight warning for anxiety and high fevers, just in case anyone doesn't like those!)

~~~~~~~

The faint light coming in through the window is more than enough for Poe to work with. Pen scratching against paper. Bathing in the moonlight. This has always been his favourite way to compose a novel. Something about the way the light feels soft, and the motions of your hand as you form words, it just feels right.

A drop of sweat makes its journey across his forehead, lunging for the paper until he catches it in his sleeve. ‘The fever is probably getting worse…’ His thoughts are cloudy, but somehow it’s making the words even easier to grasp. As if they’re practically begging to flow onto the page, climbing from his mind down into his pen. 

“Poe.”

The noise drags Poe out of the daze, tearing the paper as he manages to drag his eyes up to greet the source. The source in question is wearing a scowl and leaning against the doorframe, eyes shadowed by the hat drooping over his face.

“R- Ranpo… I was- eh’kschh’ieew-! Sorry- I was just, uh- hh’ekzzziew-tezzshh’iew-! Sorry- just w- working on… something…” 

“What you should be doing is coming back to bed. I don’t even need to use deduction to see that you’re sick.”

“No, no, I’m quite alright. I’m simpl- simply… heH’keDZZshh’iew-! Sorr-”

“On top of that, I’m pretty sure I remember you promising to sleep tonight. Something about how you  haven’t slept in three days, if I’m not mistaken. Which I never am.” 

“I’m absolutely fine, I just need to- uhh’dEZZhhh’ieew-! finish a few more chapters and my latest masterpiece will be completed! It will astound you, you won- won’t… notagain- uh’gzzsshh’iew-! eh’kNGzsshhieew-! Sorry…” 

Ranpo tilts his head, emerald green eyes revealing themselves. It’s all Poe can do to keep himself from blushing. ‘It seems no matter how many times I see them, I’m never prepared… I wonder if he… feels the same about mi- no. Focus, gotta convince him I can still wri-’ The thought is cut off by Ranpo’s boot tapping against the hardwood floor. 

“What I will or won’t do is irrelevant. You aren’t able to complete a full sentence without sneezing.”

“That’s nohuHh-! not true. See? I executed that sentence to perfection without int- interuHH-! huH’KnGT’shiew-!”

“Without interruption?”

“eNGt-! ih’dknzzt-! Sorry… Correct, Ranpo. As usual.” 

The words are laced with jealousy, but they can both hear the admiration simmering just before the surface, waiting for a chance to be expressed. Ranpo seems content to accept the praise without acknowledgment, focusing on the task at hand. ‘Just like a true detective. Not sidetracked by mere personal matters. I was never able to match that determination…’ 

“You’ve been falling into the same pattern for weeks, staying up until you pass out, sleeping for a full day, then repeating. We’re both smart enough to know schedules like that lead to illness.” 

“I’m.. smart enough..?” 

Ranpo lets the hat dip back over his eyes, his face returning to neutral. His hand extends, Karl chittering from atop his shoulders.

“Back to bed now and I’ll let you off with a warning.”

“But-”

“Besides, I’m tired, and Karl won’t let me sleep unless you come too.”

Said raccoon chitters again, crawling from Ranpo’s arm to Poe’s shoulders. ‘Two against one, this is hardly fair…’ Poe protests, oblivious to the lack of noise from his mouth as the thought stalls itself in his head. Despite this, as Ranpo’s hand brushes his own, he can feel every ounce of resolve draining from his body.

“Bed.” 

“Okay, Ranpo, you win. Again.”  

Confirmation of success seems to be all Ranpo was looking for, as he turns and walks down the hall. As if there was a string tying them together, Poe finds himself unable to resist the urge to follow. It’s not until he’s laying in bed next to Ranpo does the fever finally bring out the sleep hiding behind his eyes. Muffling a sneeze with his pillow, Poe starts to pull himself from the sheets.

“heh’mmMDZShh’oo-! Sorry… I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No way. It’s your house after all, I’m just staying over. Besides, Karl will leave too, and I want my cuddle time with him.” 

Poe lets a whimper break free as Ranpo’s arms seem to crush the life out of his dear friend, ‘Though strangely, Karl seems to have no problems with this arrangement.’ Instead of fighting, Karl’s snuggling deeper into Ranpo’s chest, breathy snores starting to pour out of both of them. Feeling sleep start dragging his eyelids shut, Poe’s own breath soon evens out, joining the ensemble with a congested tone of his own. 

~~~

The air seems to burn as it infiltrates his lungs with each inhale. Poe leans against the wall, legs growing heavier with each step, but determination pulls him through. ‘That dream… it was perfect… I know what the novel needs… I know what will- will finally impress Ranpo…’ It hadn’t been more than a handful of hours later that sleep had relinquished its grasp of him, being replaced by a feverish mania as plotlines and characters seem to beat against his skull from the inside. This is why he sits at his desk again, even the moonlight dulled as the clouds gather outside his window. 

Pen glides across the paper once more, each word leaving a deeper taste in Poe’s mouth. Ink mixes with sweat as his hands begin to shake. Only half aware of the world, Poe finds himself unable to process the sweat lining his brow being anything other than a hindrance to the plotlines swimming through his mind. Each word on the page seems to dip further into illegibility, moving away from writing and closer to drawings, mindless scribbles as his vision fades along with them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

“I have… I have to write this… it’s- hh’deZZshhh’iuh-! my best work… my best work ever… it’ll be unsolvable!” 

Ranpo’s breath is warm against his neck as the detective leans over to catch a glance of the paper. Poe finds his hands stalling at the sensation, even one extra stimuli sending his brain careening into overdrive, deeper into the fevered abyss, unable to stop thinking, but equally unable to start writing again.

“More like unreadable. Poe, even I can barely decipher what words you’ve written here.”

“It’s messy, but it’s some of the best writing I’ve ever done. I s- see… hH’gndjsshh’aa-! Sorry- I see the world so clearly, it’s almost as if I’m the one transported into it. eh’dnTZShh’oo-! Sorry. No one will be able to crack the mystery, not even you!” 

A cool wave washes across Poe’s face, a moan pulling free from his lips as Ranpo’s hand finds what it was looking for on his forehead.

“That’s the fever talking. You need to sleep.”

“hH’INkgt-! djZnnGt-! ehhA’knDt’uhh-! huH’AnGXt-!”

“Bless you, don’t do that. You’re only gonna-” 

“hehHh-! dnjSZHh’oo-! S- Sorry… haiHH-! eHSHh’aa-! hH’InkGtzz’iuh-!” 

“Bless you again, Poe.”

“Th- hh’knzshhh’oo-! kezzshh-tezsshhh’oo-! Thank you. S- sorry…” 

The apology melts into a cough, whistling notes sounding out between each breath, only broken up by the sound of pen against paper as he attempts to continue this chapter. Each word is violent, looking as if the person forming them had never written before, lines uneven and frantic as the cough brings tremors through his fingers.

“You don’t sound good.”

“I’m f- fine… I need to finish… need to finish this chapter…” 

“I apologize for the methods I must resort to.”

The words fall on deaf ears, Poe’s brain being submerged into feverish concentration once more. He doesn’t notice Ranpo turning away and whispering something to the raccoon perching atop his shoulders. Nor does he notice Karl climbing up his back until a soft paw steps against his hand, pen cracking on the paper.

“Karl? What are yo- GuuHhH-!” 

A single swish of fluff against his face is enough to break Poe out of his trance, buzzing starting to spread up to his ears as the tickle surges. Ranpo’s arm intertwines with his, Karl climbing back onto his shoulder as he pulls the writer up. Poe attempts to aim away from either of them with the fit he cannot seem to subdue.

“hh’DjZshh’oo-! aiYZShh’aa-! hH’KEZzshh’oo-!”

“Bless you.”

“C- can’t- dnGt’Zzshh’oo-! hehHh-! hH’INZSHhoo-!”

“I know. Bless you.” 

Poe feels something soft being pressed against his face, his body sinking into the bed as he’s sat down. ‘What’s pr- pressing on my fa- face… I need to… I’m- I can’t..’ 

“Blow.” 

“Wh- hAH-! What? hH’iNgT-! kndZnt-!”

“Blow your nose, Poe. It won’t end until you do. I’ve got you, just blow.”

Doing as he’s told, Poe feels the fever swell against his cheeks, moving up into his ears. ‘Or maybe that’s not the fever… am I blushing..? I can’t… I can’t tell…’ His voice is drowned out, even in his own head, a deep fog overtaking his conscious thought. 

“I’m s- sorry Ranpo…” 

A soft hand brushes against his face, Poe practically melting into the touch as his hair is swept away. His vision clears, for more reason than one, as Ranpo’s eyes stare back into his. This exchange only lasts for a minute, but it starts to play on repeat in Poe’s mind as Ranpo rests his forehead against Poe’s, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll read the book the instant you finish it. I promise. But only if you’re not sick while writing it.” 

“B- but…” 

“You want to be able to give me your best, right? Don’t I deserve that?”

“Of course y- hH’dzzshh’oo-! you do-”

“Being sick is not your best. Let me take care of you, once you’re better, you can write it.”

Waves of emotion seem inclined to suck Poe into their current, he’s barely able to keep his head above their waters. Guilt and anxiety claw at his legs, pulling him into the ground. And yet, something softer frees him, a wave of pride and love bringing air back to his battered lungs. ‘He thinks I have a best… something he wants to see… and… he wants to take care of me.’ 

“Besides, no one will be able to read it if you keep writing like that. It looks like you were driving consistently through potholes while attempting to transcribe a conversation from a language you don’t speak.”

“W- well that’s not very kind… but it was quite visual.”

Ranpo laughs, giving Karl’s head some scratches as he drapes himself across the bed next to Poe, raising an eyebrow as he tosses out- 

“Maybe I should write the book instead.” 

Poe freezes, eyes peeking out from the curtain of hair as they widen. Terror infiltrates his dazed mind, fighting against the urge to give Ranpo whatever he desires, a war neither side can win. The battle, however, is quickly cut short as Ranpo places his hand on Poe’s arm, a gentle touch that quiets all voices but his.

“It was a joke, Poe. Now, let’s get you back to sleep. I need my rest, and you’re keeping me up.”

“Alright, Ranpo. Th- thank you.”

“No need for thanks! But~ there is need for rewards. You owe me at least some chocolates. And some lollies. Oh- and more of those gummy sushi things you ordered internationally, those were good… Oh! And-” 

A smile spreads across Poe’s face as Ranpo goes on, the haze in his mind starting to gently overtake the last piece of his consciousness as the sheets beneath him start to encase him in their soft embrace, matched only by Ranpo’s softer touch against his arm. Poe manages to get out one last sentence before sleep wins out. 

“Whatever you want…” 

“I’m holding you to that!” 

[outeremissary]

14, 25, 26?

Thanks for the ask!! I'm sorry if these aren't going to be super thrilling answers, but some stuff I just don't hear much or don't remember well. ^^;;

[prompt]

14. Any favorite motifs

Haha. Have you noticed. That I like angels. And birds. And wings. And radiant light. And feathers. Do you think that's noticeable in what I draw. Kingmaker has really spoiled me for these- there are so many legitimate reasons to draw them, and I still feel like I'm not doing enough here. At the least, I feel like there's a lot more that I could be doing thematically that I'm not. But I think it's telling that as soon as I started regularly drawing Not Kingmaker stuff I just kept going with the wings- sometimes for Real Reasons, and sometimes... not really. It's my natural state. And I will draw More Wings in the future. This is a promise. I will continue to think about them and hopefully do more interesting and thoughtful things with them, haha.

And I also of course love flowers... I'm not a flower language knower, but I looooove drawing flowers and floral motifs.

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by

Last summer while recovering from surgery I took an actual real figure drawing class, like in a real studio downtown with real people and real models. I had a lot of trouble adapting to the materials, the scale of the drawings (big...), and the idea of shading as one of the earliest parts of a sketch. I remember speaking to the instructor after class once about having trouble, and he was pretty nice about stuff even if it didn't help me all that much except to reduce the stress a little. But in that conversation I remember him saying my art (of which he had only seen the model drawings) had a comic book quality. That really surprised me, especially considering the context! I was trying very hard to do realism the best I could there, and besides that I have just never spent a lot of time with American comic books. Even the artists in that sphere who have styles I find really compelling and want to learn from are just not in my mind when I draw almost ever, and they certainly weren't when I was trying to sketch the model! It was interesting to hear though- one way or another, the graphic background I do have comes through that strongly both in how I interpret things into work that's not meant to be stylized and in how I work. I guess it stood out for better or worse that I leaned so heavily on lines ^^;;

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended

I remember back in 2021 I did this sketch of Nyrissa and Tristian (I swear it is in fact from 2021 despite the post date. my art was slightly better and definitely more accurate to the game in 2022.) where Nyrissa had a hand under Tristian's chin, forcing Tristian to look her in the eyes. I don't really remember what was on my mind drawing that. I think consciously I was just looking for a typical domineering villain pose that seemed fun to draw- I like the idea of the power dynamic between them and I was interested in how that relationship had shaped the Tristian we see in game. Just doing a little thing to put that master/servant dynamic on paper was satisfying for me. Of course, the second I showed it to other people all the responses were like "this is so horny. you can't show me an image this horny." or "this is so horny, I don't know who I want to be." And at the start I think I was always like "noooooo it's super normal!! it's not horny at all!!!" But I think deep down it probably was a horny drawing, whether I did that consciously or not... And I've definitely leaned into that Vibe since then when I draw them together, haha.

That's not a very good story, but honestly I think I just have not seen a lot of interpretations of what I draw that were so different from what was on my mind that they were memorable. ^^;; I don't have a super great memory for this kind of thing though

[alrightrandy]

new year, new plans

what's this? a geniune alrightrandy blog post that isn't just random slop? …finally.

all jokes aside, i'm well aware that i haven't necessarily been ultilizing this site – as well as other platforms im on, as much as i wanted to. however, considering the new year has just begun i believe it's time to make some form of change around here.

i just want to preface this by saying that, all through out last year, i've ran myself into some personal turmoil that led me to essentially lack any sort of focus to work on any hobbies. it's hard to explain, i feel like i have done a lot but at the same time i clearly didn't have much creative output as much as i wanted to. and again, it didn't help that i was also juggling with stuff in my personal life too.

i guess the point i'm trying to make across here is that, i haven't properly found a right balance for myself, both creatively and irl-wise. and i certainly didn't have a proper sense of direction either… but i'm hoping to change that this year!

through out the end of 2023 up until the mid january, i've went through a pretty prolific event that kind of sparked a slew of motivation and plans to really get myself back.

in summary, around the holidays a phone of mine completely bricked itself for some random reason, making it practically inaccessible for me to use. and keep in mind, i'm still saving up to get myself a laptop, so i really had no other personal devices besides that phone.

thankfully, i did manage to get a new one – however, the point is that me being phone-less for a brief moment was very "humbling" for me. not only it was the only device for communication and having a creative outlet, but it just goes to show nothing should be taken for granted. ANYTHING can be lost in a matter of seconds, a simple reminder that i really needed to get myself together.

and with that, everything brings me to here. i've somewhat finally came up with a plan to hopefully boost some motivation within me, and also have a better commitment to my creative output.

to get the obvious stuff out of the way, in reguards of my youtube channel – as well as anything reguarding about dj'ing and music. i am going to try my best to put a heavier focus on these since its something i'm still a complete beginner at. it's a new hobby i've recently picked up, and it only makes sense for me to try to lean onto it a bit more. matter in fact...

i just recently put out something onto my channel!

i'm going try to put out at least one mini mix on a monthly (or bi-monthly) basis. hopefully it will not only expand my portfolio as a dj, but i geniunely think this could help with my issues with commiting to something. plus, i think it would definitely bring in some life to my channel since i still have no clue what direction i want to take it in.

don't get it twisted, i still want to experiment with all sorts of different types of videos. however, i can't make any promises if any of it will reach the light of day. at least with these mini mixes, they will hopefully still appear consistently even if i have nothing else to upload. idk, i think its a decent enough idea to sink time into.

now, reguarding everything about creating artwork and ultilizing my platforms. it's still somewhat uncertain, however if you checked my pinned post i have recently updated it with new sites you can check me out on!

but in short, i will also try to branch out more and maybe even network myself to finding ppl / communities. and along the way, i will also try to get back into creating art since i really have been putting that on the back burner. again, no promises but i have been putting some thought into it! (i'm looking at you Newgrounds and Bluesky…)

i'm reaching my text limit, so this is all i have for now. i'll catch you guys on the flipside, i really do hope i do better this year. knock me out if this post ages horribly lol

happy 2024!

~🐇

[imnotfunnysblog]

I've never hear of the WIP game before but I'm happy to play. This is an old wip, I have this one all planned out and hopefully will get to finished it soon lol.

Snippet:

Hermione was never one to sleep in, though her parents had tried for many years to encourage their daughter to rest it never seemed to work. Though Hermione had made them a promise, if she woke up before 8 on a weekend she couldn’t make any noise. Though today she would blatantly ignore that rule in about five minutes. It was early June, only a couple of weeks into summer break and Hermione Granger had already finished all of her schoolwork. She was already contemplating re-writing one of her potions essays out of complete boredom.

She had heard very little from her boys over the summer. Harry continued to stay quiet while Ron’s letters became more and more cryptic as the weeks continued to pass on. Ron’s calls were a lot better, they would talk about random things. Hermione would nag him to do his homework and Ron would make sure that she was taking some kind of break. The one thing he wouldn’t talk about is what he was doing this summer, whatever it was it was under lock and key.

Harry’s letters were short and usually very blunt. The things he did say concerned her, as even the slightest insight into his mind showed just how much the graveyard had affected him. All the questions he asked were about Voldemort's continued rise in the wizarding world, a topic she could unfortunately not help him with.

The sun had barely risen by the time Hermione was dressed and ready for the day. She was happily wearing a long pair of jeans and a light blue T-shirt. The only thing was her hair, which was currently being ignored as it was its third day in a bun. Hermione decided to forgo fixing it till later on in the day, though she still needed to go to the bathroom.

Hermione walked slowly outside slipping quietly into the bathroom. She caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror from the corner of her eye, there was a flash of white that she knew didn’t belong to her. She quickly turned tarror spreading through her entire body as she thought an intruder was in her house. A scream left her lips as only her reflection stared back at her, but it wasn’t hers. Her hair was now a platinum blond (though still as curly as ever) and her eyes once a hazelnut brown were now a bluish grey. Hermione jumped back, falling to the floor. Her hand reached into her hair, pulling out the bun slowly, hoping that it had just been a trick of the light. Her hair fell into her face, still as blond as it had been a second ago.

“HONEY WHAT'S WRONG DID SOMETHING HAPPEN!?!?” Mrs. Granger shouted rushing into the bathroom with a baseball bat in toe. Her straight hair was frizzy and dishevelled and her rumpled pyjamas added to the crazed look in her eye. Her mother stopped in her tracks as she realized it was only Hermione cowering on the bathroom floor.

“HERMIONE ARE YOU OK????” her father screamed rushing into the bathroom a few seconds later. Mrs. Granger dropped the bat as she crouched down to comfort her panicking daughter,

“Hermione, what happened? What did you do to your hair? Are you alright sweetheart? How did this happen? Did you fall?” her mother jabbered asking each question before Hermione had even the slightest chance to answer the first. Mr. Granger knelt down to his wife patting her shoulder in an effort to stop her frantic questions. Her parents' presents calmed her down as her heavy breathing calmed to a pained but slower one.

“Do you think it’s magical or something?” he asked looking directly at Hermione. She took a deep breath before nodding. Her hands were gripping her hair pulling the blond strands into her face to look at the new colour.

“I think so,” she sputtered, her face frozen in both complete confusion and fear. Mrs. Grangered pulled her daughter's hands from her head, and inspected the suddenly platinum blond hair herself, the colour continued throughout her head and seemed to grow directly from her scalp. Mr. Granger sat beside his despondent daughter, her eyes were filled with tears and a sudden air of panic set in like a thick fog.

“Hey, let's see if it washed out before we start to panic sweetheart,” Mrs. Granger said shaking his head. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to his wife or daughter as both seemed to be freaking out equally.

“What if it doesn’t?” Hermione whispered almost soundlessly.

“Then we call the only people we know that can deal with magical problems,” Mrs. Granger comforted a soft frown on her face. The Weasleys Hermione thought they would help. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were good at magic, and if they didn’t know they would know someone who does.

“Ok,” she sighed rubbing her eyes of the tears. Her parents quickly left the room leaving Hermione to scrub the new colour out of her head. For some moment she thought that this was some karmic punishment for putting off washing her hair for so long. Like her body’s magic was punishing her for her laziness. It didn’t take long for her to through that idea out the window, even if she did wash this colour out of her hair her eyes were still grey. Was she cursed, no I couldn’t be. She had read about curses and Ron had told her some second-hand stories. Curses were serious and usually involved some kind of harm or inconvenience. This was just weird. The thought calmed her as she realized she was in no harm, it was just a weird situation.

The shower and wash made her hair look great, but it did nothing to make her less blond. It just made the new platinum blond curls shiny and defined. She dried off, getting dressed for the second time today before heading down to the kitchen. Her parents were sitting at the counter their eyes lit with disappointment.

“Do you want to call the Weasleys or should I?” Mr. Granger said his hand hovering over the phone. Hermione shook her head, she knew that it would likely be Ron that answered the phone. He was always good at calming her down. Even if her heart rate was going back to a normal level.

“I’ll call them,” Hermione asserted before picking up the phone herself. She punched in the Weasley's phone number just as she had done the summer before and the summer before that. She could still remember the way Ron yelled into the phone and the laughter that filled the kitchen when her parents realized exactly what her best friend was doing. The phone rang for a minute before it was answered. Ron's voice filled her ears.

“Hermione it's 6:30 in the morning,” the groggy Ron yawned as he answered the phone. Is voice was slow and pained, if she were to guess he had woken up to the sound of the phone.

“How did you know it was me, I haven’t even said anything yet,” she snipped it to freaked out for their usual arguments.

“One, no one calls us except you. Two, no one except you would be crazy enough to wake the entity of our household at six in the morning,” Ron sighed. She couldn’t help but laugh as a new calm fell onto her.

“Six thirty,” she corrected with a smile. The pressing situation sat at the back of her mind for a moment. She earned a chuckle come from Ron.

“Hermione there better be a good reason for this because everyone in the house is surrounding me in curiosity and they all need a good reason to be woken up at this hour,” he informed her, she could practically hear the eye roll in his voice. She could faintly hear the twins and Ginny mutter groggily in the background as he spoke. Hermione took a breath before explaining.

“My hair turned blond.”

“Pardon?”

“I woke up this morning and my hair was blond, I also think my eyes turned gray.”

“Wait you eyes are grey! I thought it was just your hair,” Mrs. Granger questioned looking her daughter in the eyes. Her own dark brown ones peering into the newly grey eyes of her daughter.

“What do you think happened?”

“Ummmmm, I’m going to get my Dad.”

“Good idea."

I suppose since @merlinsleftit was added with me I'll give it over to them 😉

[non-rationalist]

Called my (double) ex for no reason and was politely but strongly rejected: it hurts.

Full background of our so far two piece (1.5yrs + .75yrs) relationship is a long story for another day, but the immediate background is as follows. Late last year she reaches out to me out of the blue: felt amazing, given my persistent feeling through our relationship was (along with being unsatisfied/wanting to break up for most of the time, with some regularity) that of being unloved/not good enough/her continuing with it more out of costs of switching than because she wanted to be with me. Yeah, I know, I have issues: this one, feeling unloved and unlovable, actually lands pretty perfectly into the expectations of how a person neglected in their childhood should turn out. So, she reaches out, I enthusiastically respond: of course, I'm not asking whether it's good for me or whether it's something I want, but immediately fall into the pattern of her being somewhat unloving and me seeking that love and validation.. with such a promising start (it was mind-blowing to me she would reach out/appear to want me), I was an easy prey. Was even talking to a therapist through all that: understood even at the time I didn't particularly want that relationship back, but didn't have the love-seeking angle, was just explaining me going (to a couple multi-day visits involving multi-hour out of state drive by me) by me being a curious cat seeking emotional adventures.. well, that was probably part of it, this was around the beginning of me embracing feelings instead of running away from them, so throwing myself into an environment that was bound to be dramatic and full of feelings, and also promising to shed light on my past while observing the present by hopefully my somewhat more emotionally mature eyes. I did get what I wanted from the visits, the emotions and light shed on the past, being able to look at some of the old issues together with a bit of a wise smile, while also refreshing on some of the issues that made the relationship not work for me, and reaffirming I don't want this back (this is my only long-term relationship so far, and given neglected kid story/currently being largely estranged from my parents, and my otherwise troubled socialization, sad reality is the ex, however miserable the relationship was, was still the strongest human connection I had, so you bet I had more than my fair share of hang-ups and trouble moving on).

So, after two few day visits around Christmas, refreshing on how trying on having the relationship back would feel and reaffirming we don't really want it, that episode ends. She doesn't reach out on her own anymore. I send a few "shiny rocks" emails, fun memes or interesting links I think she'd particularly appreciate, to a muted response (this is similar to how I behaved during our first interregnum, except then she eventually gotten engaged enough to be again charmed by our beautifully intoxicating conversation to want to go for another round of relationship). After a few rounds I recognize this is some kinda toxic pattern that is not making me happy: me devaluing myself, offering something valuable and authentic for free, to an audience which clearly doesn't appreciate it much. So I stop.

Fast-forward a few months, I've gone even more touchy-feely, being social, valuing humans and human connections for non-instrumental reasons. Realize I feel a bit hurt/used she seems to have reached out to me simply out of convenience/coz she was lonely in her somewhat isolated small town wanted to see if I can be a quick fix to her dating needs/coz she didn't want to spend the christmas alone. Thinking I don't want to stick to bad old habits of viewing humans as instrumental, not valuing connections, that I appreciate her and want to say in touch. So I reach out: it was clear in my heart that I wanted to, but also had to overcome considerable anxiety/procrastinated for a few days over making the call. Happy I got over my fears and called.

She was suspicious of me calling without a reason: didn't seem so much about me as about her overall stance on human connection instrumentality, "nobody would call just to check up on you". When asked said she did a few sessions of therapy but is now fine and doesn't need it anymore, blamed feeling down around the time we were meeting on me causing her to revert to an old self/roles that made her unhappy but that really aren't who she is anymore, made clear she thinks I'm not good for her and that she doesn't want to be in touch on any sort of deep level. This hurt. I still feel she's an amazing person and would've loved to stay connected.

It's a bit unclear in terms of the family/relationship history above re whether this makes sense. I really should read up on what "neglected kids" issues typically are now that I am aware of that aspect of myself. Never felt I had abandonment issues, if anything something of the opposite, I usually fail to feel the connection to anybody/build much of a bond (long recurrent history from changing schools many times in teen years to changing countries or otherwise completely abandoning old friends and communities without much of a regret or remaining bond, and ditto re specific deeper friends), and don't feel loved/respected/wanted by anybody. But guess ex is a bit of a special case, where I managed to build something of a bond from my end: against all odds in a sense, as it was kinda dubious relationship from a few months onward but through my people pleasing/being unaware of my own needs/risk aversion and other such bad reasons I forced myself to stick around for quite some while (well, and the brainfuck/convo were beyond amazing). So while I stuck to it for what seems like mostly bad reasons, "putting in time" did work and I developed quite a bond. So, maybe with her, being an exception, I am needy. Now that I mentioned this I did remember that part of the relationship, me getting insecure easily, craving some kinda high effort "proof of love" from her with some regularity - it's interesting I completely forgot about that.

Well, guess this is the end of a relationship even on the basic human level, as now she's categorized solidly into the "people who don't appreciate me and so aren't worth spending my time on" bucket. Not something very natural for me as I tend to be in some kinda touch with many of the people I dated at anything beyond very surface level. A bit conflicted as guess feel she has issues and could benefit from therapy (if only due to my high prior on "people in serious relationships are generally well-matched on emotional maturity levels"). Picking up "projects" and trying to guide troubled people towards healing is something I love doing in general, and guess feel it could've been super rewarding to manage to do that for her. But guess I was never in a good position to do that, with all the mutual history and conflict of interest and such, and trying to fight the current lost war for no good reason seems stupid. Plus, not that confident I'm right re her issues: it's not like some more obvious cases or cases that can be cross-checked with multiple people within the shared community. Maybe she is who she is, knows better if she needs therapy, and knows what's right for her re not wanting me in her life. I should leave her be and focus on plenty of issues in my own life.

I might just be full of hubris re being able to notice other people's issues, given I myself is still so full of issues and emotionally immature. Sure, I feel I'm on the right track and happy with the new things I'm learning and therapy insights. But, like, obviously I'm still very broken, maybe should focus on that first.