#that most of the fandom seems to have sanded down everything we DO know about her

[sparky-is-spiders]

I want Jon and Sasha to both be the archivist and to drag each other down through a corruption arc.

[trippygalaxy]

UHM! HI this is just gonna be me rambling about some of my mutuals cause I cherish them all and everything they've done for me

no i will not be tagging them, the tumblr gods will decide if they find this or not

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.

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Cal, gods I have so much to say about them but they could honestly be their own post by themselves /pos. I -genuinely- wouldn't be here today if it wasnt for them, so many times have they unknowingly helped me out of horrible places in my life, and I could never put my love for them into words no matter how many poems i write in their honour. They are one of the best friends ive ever had in my life, they are the most genuine, selfless, precious people ive had the pleasure of knowing.

Maj- oh i miss talking to him so much you dont understand!!! I love love loved sending them silly stories in her askbox, their way of thinking and breaking down stories were the most delicious things! Not only that but the art??? Their ocs always enticed me and i would willing sit down and listen to them talk about them for hours if i could. They are FUCKING HALRIOUS TOO!!! They've -without even trying- have given me so many belly laughs when i needed that the most.

But i seem them in their new fandom with other moots and im so happy shes having fun /gen

GASP! MY SPOUSE!!! Fir! UGH i love them so much /p They are so encouraging, and they help me so much when it comes to stories and figuring stuff out- and they WROTE SO MUCH FOR ME???? IM SO GREATFUL FOR EVERYTHING THEY'VE MADE AND DONE FOR ME AND I WISH I COULD REPAY IT BACK 10 FOLDS! I feel so free when speaking with them, like im able to be a part of me where i cant with others and its- its so relieving.

Vaati- a genuine inspiration. I was a HUGE fan of his shifting sands series when I found it on instagram and when i say HE MOVED TO TUMBLR?! I WAS FUCKING ESTATIC!!!! Also very worried that his art got stolen but it was clear it wasnt- ANYWAYS! When I first found him, i was so ready to just give up on art -before my digital art era- because when i stared at my art all i saw was bland strokes of a pencil that could never be compared to what others had made, but when I found his comic that was FULLY TRADTIONAL I was stunned. I showed it to everyone I knew, whether they knew loz/lu or not, i needed them to see the talent and beauty I found. And he was the beginning of me starting to relearn to love traditional art again, and how much more beautiful it was to me compared to any digital piece

ARIA!!! I was in awe of her cute style- and i saw her make art for Sacred realm and i was HOOKED! Genuinely, I was like 'oop- have to be friends with her now' and though we dont talk that much, im constantly impressed with her growth even when she thinks its trash. That girl has SO much potential, and im estatic to see what she does with it. OH AND THE ART SHES MADE FOR FAROLA?! **MWAH!!!** Honestly she made me love Farola again-

Major, an unrated GEM, one of the most encouraging, heartfelt and creative person ive met on this site. She is, and will always be, someone I look to when I need a push or when im unsure about doing something (like this!) cause I know that she will never cease her amazing ability to encourage and inspire those around her.

Finky and Isa- some of the most iconic styles ive seen, its amazing to see them grow and keep their styles while still improving. AND THE AMOUNT OF ART AND IDEAS THEY MAKE??? Im stunned by how quick they are able to make their art and STILL HAVE IT BE AMAZING QUAILTY?! Witch craft I tell you!

Shade and Mossy, two people I sadly dont talk to much anymore, but were apart of one of the most important parts of my life so far. Both were such positive lights that kept pushing even when they got pulled back by others. Idk if its their stubbornness or determination that keeps them going, but whatever they have, I want it!

[clearlynotjanus]

[leans into the mic hesitatingly. a loud screech of feedback is heard as i try to speak]

uhhhh hello? anyone still......here? hard to see the audience past the stage lights, you know how it is.

i haven't thought about this fandom in over a year. while writing my last loceit fic, i got very overwhelmed with how bogged down with terminology & lore & my general wordy writing style that i burned out of finishing the last chapter. at the same time, my partner & i rediscovered another anime...& when our hyperfixation there ended, we got into ffxiv... then bg3... & now dragon age... i've always disliked that about myself. never able to stay in one place long enough to feel like i've left an impact or had done anything interesting.

but i got the kindest comment of my ao3 history the other day on that abandoned loceit fic & i've been ruminating on it since. the person talked about how, despite it not being finished, they still thought about it at least once a month & came back to read it with excitement from time to time. i thought of all the fics i do the same with & compared myself to them... ofc there's a lot to be said about not treating fanfic authors or "fandom famous" people differently than anyone else, because online numbers are fake & all that, but there's an undeniable admiration, i think, we all have for people with "large accounts" or high kudos counts or exceptional artistic talent that we feel we don't compare to. i thought of myself in that lens for a moment, as someone who wrote something impactful enough to leave that lasting of a mark & it made me so happy. i felt fulfilled by it.

writing has always been my one talent, i've always thought it was the only thing i was destined to be good at. my opinion of my writing has hit peaks & valleys in my life of course, we all go through self doubt & ego issues, but at the end of the day, writing has been the one constant about myself. the one thing i've always wanted to challenge myself with, the one thing i could go back to, if nothing else. home.

with the current state of my country (america, unfortunately) i've started to think that my fantasies of writing anything "worth" reading are futile. it seems insignificant in the grand scheme, to create art when the world is ending. i never dreamed about any aspiration in my own lifetime. i've always wanted to leave something behind worth analyzing. worth talking about. worth exploring. sitting in various liberal arts classes in my life, i always daydreamed about one of my stories being the subject matter someday. long after i was dead. it's dismal to think that it might not be my own inability to create something worthy that prevents that daydream from coming into fruition.

every other queer person is rallying. they're brave for it but i can't bring myself to join the movement. not that anything i say or do will be monumental of course, but no one knows how big of a thing is going to come out of this. the little people might be caught up in it too. someday soon, sites like ao3 & tumblr may be gone, or at least inaccessible for americans. & that's terrifying. so i think of the person who left that lovely, inspiring comment on a fic i hadn't thought about in over a year, instead. because even if i never accomplished any of my bigger goals with my writing, i did, at least, leave a little bit of an impact & that has to be enough.

i want to say that i'll finish that fic in honor of all this. it feels right to say that, but with everything going on, i don't know if it would be the truth. i have a commission currently, & i've buried my head in the dragon age sands for now. i want to. i reread the whole fic & my notes from it for the last part & it's good. it's better than i remember it being, & i want to finish it. but as most of you have realized by now, i'm very bad with promises lmao

i do miss this fandom though, everything else aside (asides lmao) i had some good friends here before i burnt out & burned my bridges about it. i'm sorry for that. i hope everyone here has been doing better than me at least

[thegloweringcastle]

On the Edge of Losing You

Thank you @azrielshadowssing​ for organizing this lovely event! It is so much fun to be creative and get to work with the lovely people in the fandom!

I had the absolute honor of continuing On the Edge of Losing You by the wonderfully talented @starfall-spirit​!! My dear, I hope you like this chapter and that it does justice for the beginning you created. I adore this story with every bit of my being and was so excited (and somewhat nervous) to be continuing it!!

If you haven’t read the first chapter, what are you doing?!? It’s amazing. You can find it (and more delightful fics) here on @azrielshadowssing​‘s masterlist for the summer writing circle.

Now, let’s pick up where we left off...

CW: None

Chapter 2: On the Edge of Losing you, We Tipped Over the Brink

“Feyre, what are you doing?” He knew what she was doing. Her hands cupped his face, and his heart leapt at the contact. He groaned, her name on his lips a benediction. “Feyre.”

Finally, she kissed him.

There had been dozens of instances where Rhys had nearly given into every last temptation. Dozens of instances where he had nearly met her halfway in the space between. Dozens of instances where he had fantasized about her lips on his, her hands tangling in his hair, her body covering his own.

One moment he remembered distinctly; a single memory that has ruined him over and over again with everything he wished he had done.

They had been strolling through the woods enjoying the cool of the night in quiet company. Of course they lingered at the back of their group, eventually staking out seats on old stumps to watch the night sky come to life. One by one, the stars winked into existence until they formed a river from sky to earth. Feyre would make up her own constellations, cackling as Rhys grew more and more distressed. Her smile was bold, her eyes sparked with mischief and life. The stars had never been so bright; Feyre had never looked so beautiful.

She paused her antics to face him while he did the same. They were so near, their noses brushed on accident. That was the closest Rhys had ever gotten to kissing Feyre, to simply letting go and discovering every hidden and forbidden bit of her. To finally letting himself have a chance at one joy he craved the most.

Until now.

He wasn’t sure how, or when, but she had made her way onto his lap, now straddling him in the sand. It was just as he had imagined - better.

But then reality snuck up and ruined everything, as it was prone to do.

“Feyre,” His voice was hushed between kisses. “Feyre darling, you’re still engaged. To someone else.”

She broke the kiss, gasping for air. They sat and breathed, fire draining from veins and stars fading from eyes. The weight of what she had done seemed to crush Feyre in an instant, even if Rhys wasn’t complaining.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Rhys. Gods,” She dropped her head to his chest, her weight on his lap a comfort to both. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Rhys spoke slowly, treading carefully on uneven terrain. “Feyre, you need to do what you want to do.” He leaned back on his palms, fingers slipping through sand he wished were her hair. “You need some time to think about what you want, no one influencing your thoughts. But Feyre…” The confession came out with hesitance. “I can’t walk you down the aisle to Tamlin.” I love you too much to let you go, was the hidden side of the coin.

The look in her eyes - it killed him. She was so infinitely sad, utterly alone in the secluded world Tamlin had constructed around her. Feyre broke their staring match, slipping back onto the cool damp sand. Rhys shivered at the loss of contact.

Time and time again, Feyre had asked him why he didn’t like Tamlin. How he could possibly know what type of man he was. What led him to believe Tamlin wasn’t good enough for. Every time Rhys brought it up, Feyre would, without fail, interrogate him to no avail.

The truth? He recognized Tamlin for who he was because of his own father. Rhys was under no illusions, he knew what type of situation his mother found herself in. And while she was fortunate - a safe marriage, even if it was loveless, and a calm ending that left her and her family well off - many women were not. He couldn’t live with himself if Feyre ended up like that and he had done nothing to stop it.

Her voice was thin, stretched taut between all that had transpired in mere hours. “I am very sorry, Rhys.” His chest tightened as he watched her stand, brushing sand from her clothes. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Feyre, wait a minute,” Her wrist. His panic. Their kiss. “Don’t-”

She slipped back into her flipflops. “I understand. Thank you for- thank you. I’ll see you when we get back.”

The sight of Feyre walking away had never hurt so damn much.

~~~

Her steps on the stone pathway were the tick of a clock, the sound her flip flops made echoing through the night. Somewhere in the distance was music, cheers, and the sound of beer bottles shattering.

Her thoughts wandered back to Rhys. For the first time in six months, Feyre had truly seen her friend. She had looked into his violet eyes and found the maps of years gone by; the marks left by those he loved, the marks left by those he didn’t. Like glass: inevitably broken and worn, beautiful in every state.

She had nobody to blame but herself for the most jagged crack that now ran through him.

Around the bend in the path, the cottage Nesta and Elain shared came into view. Lights shone through the windows - a beacon in the night. She couldn’t reach the door fast enough, her fist raised to knock a few steps too soon.

Elain opened the door, her gaze snagging on Feyre’s tearstained face and bruising wrist before pulling her in without a single word.

Silence was a thick blanket over the three sisters. Elain puttered around in the kitchen, steeping tea and arranging sweet treats on a plate. Nesta kept busy with organizing the disarray of books that had taken over every horizontal surface in the few days since arrival. What they were really doing: dancing around the events leading to this moment.

Feyre sat on the couch, staring into space while the world carried on around her. Now that she was finally away from the frenzy with Rhys and the upheaval with Tamlin, she found the idea of going over it all again too dizzying. Her eyelids tugged downwards with exhaustion; maybe it wouldn’t have been the worst thing to just flop over and fall asleep. Sleep through the next two decades.

Elain foiled her plan with the clink of ceramics and a pointed look. Though Feyre’s sisters sat on either side, they were anything but her jailers.

Feyre sunk back into the cushions, tea in hand. Despite the humid heat, she wished desperately for long sleeves, if only to cover the bruise beginning to form on her wrist.

Nesta sighed, forging ahead through the tangled vines. “The way I see it is, you’re not happy.” She eyed Feyre’s wrist. “Perhaps not safe, either. Am I correct to assume that?”

Feyre opened her mouth to find the answer choking her.

Nesta remained unruffled. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. But I think it would benefit all of us to go through it. Step by step.” Clever Nesta. Logical, steadfast Nesta.

So Feyre told them. She began with Rhys’s aversion to Tamlin, listing some of the choice words he used to describe him - which both Elain and Nesta chuckled at - and carried on through asking Rhys to walk her down the aisle. This led to the most distasteful part, and Feyre’s voice sank when she brushed over Tamlin’s aggression mere hours ago, providing the minimum scraps of their altercation and quickly proceeding to meeting Rhys on the beach.

Now, she set her tea down and dropped her head to her hands. “And then I ruined it all. I kissed Rhys,” Her voice was muffled. “And now he won’t walk me down the aisle. And I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do, Feyre?” Though Elain’s voice was soft, she did not coddle her little sister. They had all been through too much to be so delicate.

“I don’t want to marry Tamlin,” Her lip quivered with the admission. “But I have to.”

Nesta’s quirked a brow, her expression discordant. “Um, I think the fuck not. You don’t have to do anything, Feyre.”

“Have you forgotten how he helped us? I am literally indebted to him.

My student loans, our inherited debt, my car, the wedding, our house… all of it he helped to pay for.” Her eyes welled with unshed tears, overwhelmed just mentioning it all. “It’s too late.”

Nesta’s glare spelled danger. “Is it really too late? Or are you too scared?” It came out an assault. Abrupt. Harsh. Feyre flinched as if struck.

The entire situation - a minefield. Nesta had just stepped through it ruthlessly. “Shit. Feyre, I- that’s not- I didn’t mean it like that.  It’s just… it’s easy to believe something that’s not true when the reality is so intimidating.”

“Is there something else, Feyre?” Elain set her mug down, placing a calloused hand on Feyre’s shaking shoulder. “If you…” She cleared her throat. Tried again. Even still, her voice was timid. “If you really do love Tamlin, Feyre, then we can’t stop you, but-”

“No.” Feyre wailed, quivering with the confession. “No, I don’t love Tamlin. I love Rhysand.”

Silence smothered the world, seeming to stretch out beyond their small cottage. Feyre could feel The Look her sisters passed over her shoulder, but still, they were patient while she caught her breath.

She straightened, wiping her face and gathering her control. “No. I don’t love Tamlin, and Tamlin clearly doesn’t love me. I’m in love with Rhys - have been for so long. But I don’t think that he loves me either.”

Feyre held her breath, and then -

Elain and Nesta burst into laughter. Not deep, full-bellied laughs, but laughs all the same. It just made Feyre more upset.

“I call bullshit,” Elain gasped out.

Nesta scoffed, a smirk playing on her lips. “I’m with Elain.” She slapped her hands to her thighs, standing from the couch and offering a hand to each of her sisters. “Feyre, I think we should sleep. We’ll hatch a plan over breakfast, we’ll do whatever you want. But you look dead on your feet, and I need to rest before kicking ass. Whaddya say?”

Eyes swollen and sticky with tears and exhaustion, Feyre was struggling to stay awake. She let her sisters guide her to bed, and the three of them huddled up in the dark just as they used to.

She was just drifting to sleep when Elain whispered, “You could always elope with Rhysand while you’re here. It could be so romantic, like in the movies.” That was Elain, always thinking with her heart.

“Or you could dump Tamlin, sue him, take his money, and buy a secluded island where you won’t have to worry about anyone bothering you - man or woman.”

…and that was Nesta. Using her head.

Feyre smiled in the dark, too tired to think too much about it but happy to have her sisters by her side. “I think those ideas both have potential; different aspects of charm. But… we’ll see, I guess.” She could find equilibrium again, maybe this time with the person she wanted the most with her head and her heart.

~~

Thanks again for reading! Hope you liked it <3

[thevikingwoman]

I had some post 3.4 thoughts and wanted to put them out there

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 691 | Read on Ao3

Meryta Khatin & Urianger Augurelt | post 3.4 Rating: G. Friendship, worrying for friends, dealing with everything

Wrong

Meryta sits on a box in the Rising Stones, her hands and her tail curled around her legs. It’s late, but she’s not quite ready to turn in. The last few days have been a whirlwind, too many things happening, too many questions and too few answers. She doesn’t want to be alone, but she’s not sure what to talk about either or with whom, so she’s stuck sitting with her thoughts in silence.

Urianger sits at the table next to the boxes, deep in his own thoughts. He said he’d return to the Waking Sands, but perhaps he’s not ready to be alone either. Her eyes wanders across the room. Most people have left, getting ready for their travels tomorrow. Papalymo is talking with – or at – Yda, though they both seem to be leaving. Meryta bites her lips.

“Meryta,” Urianger says, interrupting her thoughts, “prithee, art thou bothered?”

“I’m worried about Yda.”

Her happiness at seeing her friend again has faded, her gut telling her something is wrong. Yda almost sounded like her usual upbeat self, but only almost. She didn’t know the resistance meant that much to her, and she wonders what it means.

“Mayhaps thou should take thy inquiry to Yda herself.”

She shakes her head.

“I tried, but she didn’t say much.” Something changed in Yda, or maybe she herself changed and can no longer tell. Perhaps it’s just her own worries running ahead of her – after not knowing for so long that Yda – and Papalymo — was alive. Everyone has changed, she supposes.

“We can but wait and see what the fates bring us thenceforth.”

“Even if you did know, would you tell?”

Urianger tenses, his mouth drawn briefly, and then it’s gone.

“Sorry, that was unjust of me. I’m just very worried about my friend. I spend a long time worried about where she was and if she even was alive and now – now I worry more.”

“I see.” Urianger pauses, and looks down, fiddling with his ringbands. “Worrying about friends speaketh well of thy.”

Despite Alphinaud’s and everyone’s optimism at the meeting prior, she feels unsettled and she regrets her words. Thancred is nowhere to be found, even after his supportive words. Something has changed in him too. She can’t help him, not now but perhaps –

“Urianger. I spoke too rashly and – are you okay?”

“Your words were not without their reason. ‘Tis I who should inquire you the same, Meryta.”

She shrugs, then shakes her head. She doesn’t blame him for what he did. It seems to her he sees paths and possibilities others might not. She’d have asked someone if she’d had such a conundrum, but she’d have asked him. Or Alphinaud, perhaps, but she’s not sure he would have picked something sensible to do.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been sent to fight something, or someone.” She knows it’s not exactly what bothers him, or the scope of his unsanctioned bargain, but it’s part of it, and it’s the part she alone can forgive.

Urianger looks up, his gaze hidden behind those goggles of his.

“We oft have besieged thee to take arms against Primals and all manner of threat, but ne’er under deceptions shadow.”

“It would not have worked another way.” She curls her legs up under her. “Your expertise is welcome, Urianger. Don’t hide away completely in the Waking Sands, my friend.”

She doesn’t quite know if they’re friends, but it feels right to say it. They’re not not friends, and too many people, friends and almost friends, have died already. Urianger looked ready to bolt and never look back, and she knows that’s all wrong.

“I thank thee. My work taketh me thither, but I will not hide.”

She smiles, and she wishes she could see his eyes – she does not understand why he hides them beneath those goggles, his face inscrutable. Perhaps that’s the point. She’ll not soon forget those golden eyes of his, and some part of her wants to see them again, close and not across the battlefield.

“I will come visit, then.” She reaches out and pats his arm gently.

“That would please me.”

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

8, 11, 12, 13

Choose Violence Ask Game

8. Common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Alina is an extrovert! Fight me!! She’s typically snarky and kind of mean and mistrustful lmao about the people she’s around unless she’s formed closer connections and I think people interpret that as introversion. (And, I do think introversion for that era of like wallflower protagonist was just the default and people automatically sub that in.) But we see her gravitate towards going to dumb not!highschool parties and gatherings for fun. In S&B she feels alienated and sad that she can’t hang out with the other summoners by the lake bc she doesn’t know how to use her power. She seems to feel most at ease when she is around people she likes and trusts. Like I’m sorry modern AU Alina would be getting drunk at frat parties and doing keg stands 🤷‍♀️

11. Number of fandom-related words you’ve filtered

Ah, just one. I filtered out Zoyalai because people were getting real heated when season two dropped and bashing Alina in posts, and it was winding up on my dash.

12. The unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

Probably Baghra. She’s such a bitch, I love her. I don’t have any particular argument for it, I just love cantankerous crones. And also her life seems insane. She’s entertaining and interesting in a way that a lot of mean and morally questionable characters are! But I think people tend to not like her as much essentially because she isn’t young and hot during canon lol.

13. Worst blorboficiation

Obviously the Darkling! The majority of his fandom is soooo deeply unsatisfying to me because it’s usually focused on sanding down everything that makes him fun to me. I signed up for deranged cartoon villain content. My favorite scenes of his are usually when he’s being fucking insane. So when the fandom is like “here’s my fave character Sasha and all the disgustingly sweet sunshine pun nicknames he can come up with during pillow talk 💖” I’m like… why are you so boring sjfjfgd

[angelasscribbles]

American Girl Chapter 4: Shifting Sands

Series: American Girl

Fandom: The Royal Romance (Non-Royal AU)

Pairings: Riley x Drake

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: Mature themes

Word Count: 2,223

A/N: The kick off of Drake Appreciation Week seemed like a good of time as any to brush this one off!

My other stuff: Master List.

He walked back into the room bare-chested, towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets still clinging to his hair.

Riley had composed herself. She was sitting cross-legged on his bed tapping on her phone.

“Who you talking to?” He asked curiously.

“Hana,” she answered, “my roommate.”

“Tell her I said hi,” he grinned.

“Your phone kept going off while you were in the shower,” she told him, “someone is blowing you up.”

“Oh, yeah?” he glanced down at the screen, typed in his pin, and scrolled through the notifications before closing it again.

“Do you need to call someone back?”

“Nope.”

She watched as he pulled on clean clothes, her eyes tracing his movements. She had watched him change clothes before, but it was different now, somehow.

Everything was different now.

She had never cared who was calling him before. Now she desperately wanted to know who Sasha was.

Whoever she was, she had called him eight times and sent about a dozen text messages while he was in the shower.

She could only see the beginning of the most recent message on the scroll at the top of his screen.

Not that she’d been looking.

True to his word, he didn’t pressure her about their relationship status, he didn’t even bring it up again. He went right back to treating her exactly how he always had.

Only now she was interpreting everything differently.

Before she had much time to think about any of it, they were back in his truck on the way to eat.

“I’m thinking we go to Plano,” Drake said as he drove, “so we don’t run into anyone around here.”

Riley nodded in agreement, “That’s a great idea!”

Plano was the next town over, and it was bigger. It was less likely that they would run into anyone they knew there.

Less likely, but not impossible.

Drake pulled into a parking spot at Ruth’s Diner, “Remember this place?”

“Of course I do,” she laughed, “I haven’t been in California that long you dork!”

He had been so excited after getting his license, he’d insisted on taking her for a ride. They’d ended up at Ruth’s. After that, it became their go-to place anytime either of them needed cheering up or asked the other for relationship advice.

“Good!” He smiled at her, “because it’s kind of our place.”

She pushed the butterflies in her stomach away as she agreed with him.

He held the door open for her, something he’d always done, but now it felt different.

He slid into the booth next to her, instead of across from her. That was new.

Once they were seated, she asked him,“ Are you going to get your own fries this time?”

He lowered his menu to gape at her, “What’s with that tone?”

“You never order fries of your own,” she accused him, “then you always eat mine!”

“I was always in training, Riley! You think being an offensive lineman was easy?”

“What the hell does that have to do with eating my fries?”

“I had to stay in shape! I did not eat your fries!”

She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, maybe one or two…” he smirked. “What? They’re good!”

She rolled her eyes as she tried to suppress a smile.

“Hey, Riley, haven’t seen you in here in a while,” the middle-aged waitress with greying hair greeted them as she approached their booth.

“Hey, Gertie! I’ve been away at college, remember?”

“I remember! How’s California treating you?”

After some small talk and catching up, Gertie took their order. She tapped her pencil on the table before walking away, “Glad to see you two are still together. I always thought you were such a cute couple!”

“Oh! We’re not-“ Riley started to correct her, but Gertie had already walked away.

Drake laughed, “Let her have it, Brooks.”

“Yeah, all right,” Riley murmured, “I guess it doesn’t hurt anything for her to think that.”

She suddenly felt awkward around him, something she had never felt before. Their relationship had shifted subtly, and she was still finding her footing.

She was relieved when the food came, so she could use eating as an excuse for not talking.

She was actually glad when he snatched a fry off her plate. It grounded her back in the familiar patterns of their lifelong friendship, “Seriously? You had your own fries this time!”

“Yeah, but they’re gone!” He protested, “and you never finish yours anyway!”

“That’s not the point!” She shook her head and gave him a chiding look, “You’re not supposed to-“

They were interrupted by a voice calling their names, “Hey, Drake! Riley! What are you doing here?”

She turned toward the voice, to find one of their former classmates striding over to them.

Blond hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders, Kyle Jacobson had played on the football team with Liam and Drake. “Oh! Hey, Kyle! Ah…just visiting…”

Kyle’s face lit up, “For how long? Maybe I could drop by tomorrow and-“

“Her parents don’t know she’s here,” Drake interrupted as he leaned across her, effectively blocking Kyle’s view of her, and grabbed another fry off her plate. He slid it through the ketchup and popped it into his mouth before turning back to Kyle, “and we’d like to keep it that way.”

“But…” Kyle looked back and forth between them in confusion, “Then where are you staying?”

“With me,” Drake said casually as he leaned back and draped an arm across her shoulder.

“Oh,” Kyle sounded disappointed, but he recovered quickly, “Well, if you’re going to be in town for a while, give me a call so we can hang out! I gotta go, I’m just picking up a to-go order, I’ll see you guys later!”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Riley told him, “but I’ll give you a call next time I’m in town.”

“Sounds good,” the blond waved at them over his shoulder as he walked away, “Nice running into you, Riley. See you around, Walker!”

“Yep,” Drake responded. He watched Kyle until the other man left the restaurant before turning back to Riley, “For a theater kid, you sure are a bad liar! I thought all those improv sessions made you quick on your feet!”

“You sure jumped to making him think we’re sleeping together pretty fast!” She responded.

He gave her a dumbfounded look, “We are sleeping together! Besides, did you want me to tell him the truth?”

“Well, no… it’s just that I’ve never seen you act territorial before, it’s weird.”

“That wasn’t territorial!” He protested.

“It was a little territorial…”

A piercing high-pitched voice echoed through the diner, “Drake!”

“Oh, no…” his eyes closed briefly as he tried to will away the inevitable.

Riley spun in her seat toward the sound of the voice, “Who’s that?”

“The biggest mistake I ever made, that’s who,” he groaned.

Riley saw the moment the other woman’s gaze fell on her. Her mouth twisted in anger and fire snapped in her eyes as she made it to the booth, “Who the fuck is this bitch?”

Riley’s body jerked back in surprise, “Oh…I…”

Drake was on his feet, placing his body between her and the interloper, “First of all, this is my friend and you don’t fucking talk to her like that, Sasha!”

“Oh, you’re Sasha!” Riley leaned around Drake to get a better look at her.

She was gorgeous, but of course, she was. All the girls Drake messed around with were.

Her hair cascaded down her back in dark brown waves, almost to her ass, which was on display in a pair of skin-tight yoga pants.

Sasha also leaned around Drake to glare at Riley, “Friend, huh?”

“Yes,” Drake replied moving his body again to keep himself positioned between them, “Riley and I have been friends since preschool.”

She turned her attention back to him, jabbing him in the chest with a perfectly manicured fingernail, “You expect me to believe that bullshit?”

“Frankly I don’t give a shit what you believe. We..” he gestured between himself and the crazy woman, “are not a couple!”

Sasha jolted back like she’d been hit, “I thought we were official!”

“Why would you think that?” he asked in genuine confusion.

“Your mom knows my name!” her voice rose.

His mouth fell open, “Of course she does! You showed up at my house and told it to her!”

“Why would she have let me wait for you in your room if we weren’t official?”

“Because you lied to her and told her we were! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me! You’re a liar and cheater!”

“We hooked up a couple of times, Sasha, that’s it! If we were official, I would have specifically said so! And I would have told other people! I don’t play stupid games,” He shook his head, he had met, and slept with her at a drunken party, and hadn’t been able to shake her since.

“I’m sure that’s what you told your little girlfriend here!”

“Oh, I know everything about him, and have since preschool,” Riley interjected, “everything important anyway. And he’s never mentioned you!”

“You know what? Fuck you both! It’s your loss!” She spun on her heel and stormed away.

“His mom, dad, and sisters all know my name!” Riley called after her.

Drake retook his seat, shaking with laughter.

“What?” Riley snapped irritably.

“Nothing,” he held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender, “just…who was being territorial tonight?”

“Shut up!” She shoved him as her pink swirled across her cheeks.

“Hey, It’s okay, you can admit it,” he dropped his arm across her shoulder again, and gave her a sidewise hug, “I liked it!”

“Whatever,” she studied her plate as she willed her face to return to its natural shade, “We should probably get back, I have a long drive tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, “You sure you don’t want dessert? We could get it to go.”

She glanced up to find him giving her the same cajoling grin he’d used in grade school to get her to go along with whatever caper he’d come up with that was against her better judgment.

It always worked.   

Thirty minutes later they sat on his bed, eating chocolate lava cake and watching Spongebob reruns.

“This is just like third grade when Ryder and I would spend the night over here and we would stay up all night watching cartoons and eating all the junk food in your kitchen!” Riley sighed. A full stomach and comforting childhood memories had her feeling almost normal again.

“Yeah, that was great,” he agreed, “What happened that made us stop doing that?”

“Puberty!” she snorted, “One day I grew boobs and suddenly our moms didn’t trust us alone together!”

“Huh.” He looked at her seriously for a moment then shrugged as he brought the last piece of cake to his mouth, “Turns out they were right!”

“Oh, my God! Stop!” She laughed as she slid out of the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“To brush my teeth and put on my pajamas!”

She closed the bathroom door and looked at herself in the mirror.

She had dark circles under her eyes. She looked fatigued, even to herself. The emotions of the last several days caught up with her and suddenly all she wanted to do was sleep.

She changed into a long sleep shirt with a pair of shorts under them. By the time she was done, Drake had changed into a plain white t-shirt and a pair of fleece pajama bottoms.

The bed had been cleaned off and the covers pulled back.

“Ah…I’m just going to brush my teeth now,” he told her, “Go ahead and try to get some sleep.”

She climbed into the bed, pulled the covers up, and found herself engulfed in his scent. She pressed her nose into the pillow and inhaled. How a simple smell could flood her with so many conflicting emotions she had no idea.

Drake clicked off the light on the way to bed. “Goodnight,” he told her as he slid under the covers.

“Hey, Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you again…for everything.” She couldn’t imagine going through this with some random guy from a Saturday night club hookup.

She realized with sudden clarity that if that had been the case; if she had gotten pregnant by some random guy, it would still have been Drake by her side, helping her hide it from her parents, supporting her, giving her a shoulder to cry on and making her laugh despite everything.

“Come over here,” he held his arms out.

“I’m too tired and emotionally drained for that.” She told him as she scooted closer.

“I wasn’t going to ask for that,” he assured her as he wrapped his arms around her, “Can’t a guy just want to cuddle?”

She laughed even though she was already on the edge of sleep, “Never pegged you for a cuddler.”

“Only for you,” he murmured as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“Happy to know I’m special.”

“You are.”

“Mmm,” She burrowed into his side as his fingers combed through her hair.

“Hey, Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“I…nothing, never mind,” he sighed as he pulled her closer, “just get some rest, okay?”

“Mm-hm,” she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep.

[praetorqueenreyna]

I disagree with your take on men not being able to experience SA (even if Ianthe is a stupid character and its alarming that SJM only seems to villianize her female characters committing SA) but there's something to say about a group of people coming after you for saying men don't experience SA in the most unserious way possible when that group of people also unseriously support and romanticise the SA scene with Fey/sand.

its ACOTAR, a fandom rife with horrible SA takes and depictions but they can somehow set that aside to stan the whole entire series and all of its demeaning themes and characterizations. Its also not lost on me that this went from "you're not putting wlw ships in a survey" to a whole research session on your opponent to discredit the fact that they did do the survey twice and it was for petty reasons.

Once again I wish you hadn't worded your take on men and SA like that, but hey it's your space and we do curate our online experiences. If that person knew beforehand that you posted things like that, why do the survey? If they had to search your blog after the survey argument to put a weight on your general character to take away from the original argument? Still backhanded, still not very "curating your online experience". We're all 30+ years old on a website that is very unserious and has supporters of incest of all things. I'd like to think half the things we are into or say here are unseriously said/or not said at all out in our regular everyday lives.

SO I will fully admit that that post was poorly worded. It was a casual post that was never supposed to get any traction, just something to throw my opinion into the ether. Not a serious analysis of how SJM expresses power dynamics and sexual assault. Part of why it's so confusing is that I literally got bored halfway through the tags and just stopped writing things.

Of course men can experience sexual assault from women, regardless of anybody's sexuality or attractiveness. My point was that women in power do not systemically abuse men in the way that men do women. I'm tired of lukewarm liberal feminists (such as SJM) trying to make some point about how the true victims of patriarchy are men. And that online warriors like the people throwing a fit about this do literally nothing to help sexual assault victims of ANY gender, and think that attacking some random person over a random post counts as social action.

But I totally agree with you! SJM seems perfectly happy to show over and over again these villainous powerful women who are somehow skeevy enough to offput the horniest men in world, but are conventionally attractive and don't really do much other than aggressively throw themselves at men. Which ALSO was a point of confusion: that post was not about Ianthe and Lucien. Obviously Lucien doesn't want to have sex with Ianthe bc he's gay. It was about how Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel are all written as these shallow horndogs who bang everything with tits, but are somehow genre savvy enough to know that Ianthe is a Bad Female Character and are disgusted by her. It's not cohesive, it's just a way for SJM to villainize a caricature of a person and make her male characters (who btw are WAY more sexually violent than Ianthe has ever been) seem like good characters.

But again, this kind of bad faith interpretation and virtue signalling has nothing to do with real victims of anything. Because if it did, they would have had an actual conversation with me, rather than putting words in my mouth over what I did and didn't say. Quite frankly, they're mad that I'm a Tamlin fan, and so they're trying to tear me down however they can. Like you said, first it was "well she's lesbophobic bc there are no wlw ships on the survey." Then when I made my point about how the people who complain about that do NOTHING to actually contribute wlw content to fandom, it shifts to me doing something else. If I kept up the conversation and tried to defend myself, I would be accused of some other crime.

ANYWAY this is exactly the kind of conversation I do enjoy having, so I do appreciate this ask! It is so important to cultivate your fandom experience and try not to take this stuff so seriously, especially for a series as poorly conceived as ACOTAR. Not all of my posts have been winners, but the actual content of those posts doesn't matter. Because I like Tamlin, I'm always going to be a criminal of SOME kind to these people.

I fully admit I should have just deleted the original ask because it was not sent to open a real dialogue. It's a lesson I have to keep learning over and over again, but maybe someday it'll stick!

[ciaossu-imagines]

I really like that post. Lots of good takes but I especially feel you on the non interacting with fandom.

Honestly, I place blame on that pretty strongly on capitalism. My spoons, even for fun activities like fandom and reading books/fics, have been severely drained since I started working and especially since I've been driven into survival mode because of capitalism.

Not to mention with how short-lived everything is now because of capitalism. Shows and movies and book series get cancelled left and right. They have fewer episodes in the few seasons we get of a TV show.

I’m so glad that the post seemed to have garnered good reception overall. And I completely understand where you’re coming from and think your points are so valid! It was a lot easier to exist in fandom before working 40 hours a week. I only achieve it because honestly, my mind is weird and my spoons fit best in that area. But being too drained even for the ‘fun’ things is definitely a mood I think almost all fans past their high school days completely understand. Also, you bring up such a good point – it’s super hard to find the mental capacity for too much of ANYTHING period when you’re forced into that survival mode. I don’t know what country you’re in, so I can only speak to my country and my particular area of it, but I know people with double income, no kids, people working 2, sometimes even three jobs, and still living hand to mouth, living in shared apartments or rental houses because wages aren’t anywhere close to keeping up with the huge increase in cost of living. Finding the mental capacity for just the bare basics of living when you’re in that mode of trying to ensure all the bills are paid and groceries on the table and a roof over your head and god forbid there’s any sort of emergency because there goes whatever you’ve put into the rainy day fund…it can sometimes feel completely impossible and I sympathize and feel for anyone in that situation, so I send so many well wishes your way and hope you’re doing as well as you possibly can, each and every day!

You also make such a good point regarding media in general. A lot of the older anime had good seasons, easily at least 20 episodes, if not more. You had lots to sink your teeth into and it was rare for you to have to worry about it not getting another season. Today’s world, it’s hella difficult to find seasons above 12 episodes and a lot of the time, there’s no follow-up seasons. Manga’s seem to have followed the same trend – you look at things like KHR, One Piece, Naruto, Bleach and they’re lengthy (in One Piece’s case, that’s a fucking brick of a manga, said in the most respectful but slightly intimidated way). But the ones nowadays just seem…shorter, harder to really immerse yourself in, and you are probably very right in that it all comes down to capitalism and the need to make a buck. To say nothing about the worry about shows you enjoy getting canceled to save money…still crying over series that will never be finished in this corner, haha. Man, capitalism really does ruin everything…time to bury my head in the metaphorical sand for a bit and escape that sad reality 😅

[fanatic-domain-fanfiction]

Kiss of Life - Chapter 1

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: M/M Fandom: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023) Relationship: Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood Characters: Meryl Stryfe, Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood Additional Tags: vash gets shot, Meryl and Nicholas have to deal with these, Getting Together, Nicholas has some unusual ways of dealing with this, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, bad language, Nicholas is responsible for all the bad language Language: English

Summary: The price for Vash's pacifism can be high. Trying to avoid hurting those who would do you harm can lead to more problems. When Meryl finds Vash face down in the sand, she doesn't know what to do, leaving Wolfwood to try his best to save the Humaniod Typhoon. Unorthodox methods and unspoken feelings become entangled.

Chapter 1: As Red As A Crimson Geranium

“Vash!?” Meryl shouted, running over to the crumbled body of her friend. His red coat turning darker, the ground beneath him being stained a deep crimson. She stared at him, breath catching in her throat. “Come on! Please! Please be okay!” “Where's blondie?” A dark figure loomed over her, the shadow of a cross falling over the pair. “What happened?” “I don't know!” She didn't know how to deal with this. She was a reporter, not a doctor! The cross landed behind her with a thud, Nicholas kneeling at her side. He hauled their friend over with ease, moving the red coat aside and pulling up the black shirt.

Red. It was all red. The colour their friend seemed to love so much.

Meryl's breath hitched again. She swore Vash was getting paler by the second, “Idiot,” muttered Nicholas, ripping off the lower half of his shirt. “This wouldn't happen if he shot back.” He balled up the rag in his hand, pressing it down onto Vash's abdomen. Hard. Their friend twitched under his hands. “You're hurting him!” “I better be! I'm trying to keep his blood in his body. It better hurt. Now, be useful and get the car.” As Meryl rushed off, Nicholas pressed down harder “Don't go dying on me, dipshit. You hear me, needle?” Vash lay there, head lolled to one side, the picture of a dead man. “Maybe this'll teach you to shoot back for once.”

Meryl came back and jumped out, kneeling over their friend again. “How is he?” “How do you think?” Nicholas grumbled looking over Vash. “Shit!” “What?” “No exit wounds. DAMMIT!” He glanced around before sighing and rolling his eyes. “Great. This couldn’t get any better?” Meryl looked even more concerned. “What can we do? Take him to a hospital?” “You got the money for that? Cos I sure as hell ain’t.” Taking a deep breath, Nicholas lifted the cloth a little, moving his other hand beneath it. “How many?” “Pardon?” “Bullets!” “3… I think.” “I’ll take it.” Looking up at the sky, like a praying atheist, he slipped his fingers into the wound. “What are you doing?” Meryl cried, face as pale as a ghost and filled dread. “What does it look like?” He couldn’t think too hard about this. He didn’t want to think too hard about this. “But… b-but… this… it… it isn’t sanitary!” “Look around you! This place is covered in sand and he’s already full of it. No such thing as sanitary out here. You fight or you die. Simple as.”

Nicholas was often lucky. Most bullets shot his way simply tore right through everything… but he’d pulled his fair share of bullets from his own broken body. The blood and torn muscle were wet and moving beneath his fingers. Twitches of pain and shock. Sensations he had grown numb to on himself but never felt coming from another... because he doesn't save.

He doesn't remove bullets. The Punisher puts them there. As many as needed and more if he desired. Corpses riddled with enough bullets to fell an army.

But not this time.

His fingers brushed against the first bullet imbedded in Vash’s side. As quickly as he could, he pulled the soaked and sticky hunk of metal out, casting it aside before sliding his blood-soaked hand back in, searching for the other two. Meryl simply couldn’t watch. She felt sick to her stomach. All the oozing blood and dripping gore had her gagging on air. Wanting to assist but simply feeling too nauseous to even offer.

His crimson-stained hand slid out for a final time and pressed on the rag again, the bloody bullets lay strewn beside them, sand red beneath them. For once, Nicholas had bloodied his hands for a different reason. This blood, as red as a crimson geranium, might haunt him far longer than that from any being he had killed.

“Let’s get him moved.” “What do you need me to do?” “Just hold the rag,” he grumbled, letting her take over as he threw his cross on the roof before yanking the door open. “You keep holding that. Don't let up are bit.” Meryl nodded, her hands already wet and slick with the warm blood, seeping its way through the cloth. Nicholas slipped his arms under Vash, hoisting him up as Meryl stayed close by, pressing as hard as she could. It was challenging getting Vash inside; holding his steady, trying to keep the pressure on, fighting to get into the car.

At last, Meryl shut the door. Nicholas was nearly lay across the backseats, one leg bent up and the other resting on the floor. Leant back against him, head on his shoulder, still out cold was Vash. In any other circumstance, this might have been a sweet scene, enough for Meryl to grab her camera with a smile.

But not this time.

Nicholas kept Vash's shirt out of the way with one hand as he held on to the rag tightly with the other. Meryl climbed into the driver's seat looking back at the pair. “What now?” “Drive like you mean it! Don't stop for nothing. No worms. No undertakers you crash into. Just get us out of here!” “Okay, just hold on.” Meryl set off at a far more rapid pace than usual, like she was trying to chase down another sand steamer. Nicholas sat with gritted teeth in the back, trying to hold Vash as still as he could. The journalist might not have been a great driver... but no one is out here. There was no smooth way to travel across the rolling dunes.

Vash made no noise, his breathing slow and shallow. His limp body was a dead weight against Nicholas. Beads of sweat appeared across his brow. “Shit!” “What's wrong?” “Blondie's burning up!” Nichols grumbled, trying to remove Vash's coat with one hand. “How does he wear this stupid thing out here!?” “Should I stop?” Meryl looked over her shoulder. “NO! Just keep moving! I'll deal with him.” Nicholas pulled Vash's metal arm from his coat, starting to work on the other. “And keep your eyes forward! Don't go staring.” He fought with the coat until he finally pulled it out, throwing it to the floor. Nothing much changed. Vash still bled and sweat; still propped up against Nicholas. The undertaker could almost feel the life slipping through his fingers. “Can't you go any faster!?” “I'm trying! Can't you do anything else?” “What do you think I'm trying to do!?” “Well, think harder! We can't lose Vash!” “I know! I know!” He didn't have any idea. What did people need? The Punisher only needed those vials.

...the vials... It worked for him so maybe...

Nicholas pulled a vial from his jacket, observing the blue glow. A curse and a cure. The luminescence of a plant... Maybe it could save him.

Nicholas held the vial and broke it open with his teeth. Vash would either die from this or from blood loss if he didn't try. “Hope you’re ready to fight, blondie,” he muttered. “Because this will be a fight.” He pressed the rag with painful pressure against Vash’s side, vial in one hand and using his shoulder to try and tilt the typhoon’s head the right way. Car bouncing. Not enough hands. He’d spill the vial before he got the chance to give Vash any.

God damn it all. This was ridiculous… but a lot of things were when running with Vash the Stampede. This was just something else to add to the list.

“Keep your eyes forward, lady, and move that mirror too.” “W-what?” “Just do it! Don’t even think about looking back until I say so!” Meryl rolled her eyes, pushing the mirror up. “Fine! Have it your way.” “No looking!” “And no looking.” She had to wonder what on earth he was trying… but then realised that she didn’t want to know.

Nicholas held the vial to his lips, letting the liquid fall into his mouth, holding it there rather than swallowing. He brought his free hand to Vash’s face, moving his head over and opening his mouth just enough.

You better be damn grateful for this, blondie, thought Nicholas. And you better survive.

He leant over, holding Vash steady and pressed his lips against his friend’s. Slowly, he let the liquid from the vial drip into Vash’s mouth, just hoping that he could swallow it. Nicholas held their lips together, fighting the jostling of the car until he’d transferred every last drop.

Pulling back, he stared at Vash, hand covering the typhoon’s mouth. “Come on…” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Swallow, dammit. You want to live right? Then swallow.” Vash’s neck pulsed slightly, bright blue markings appearing over his skin as the liquid slipped down his throat. The marks looked angry, gripping his cheeks and neck. They tracked down his neck, slipping beneath his shirt and all the way down to under the bloody rag. As a faint glow shone beneath the rag, Nicholas felt like he could breathe again, watching the marking vanish as the glow dissipated.

“Good job, needle-noggin. You might just live yet.” He dropped the rag and held Vash tightly, safe and secure in his arms. “Alright. You can look.” “Finally.” Meryl titled the mirror and looked at Nicholas through it. “What did you do?” “Gave him something. Seems to have worked but he’s still not awake.” “Give him some time. I’ll find somewhere we can stay… or at least recharge the battery.” “You haven’t charged it!?” “It was charged! Until you sent me racing across the wasteland.”

Nicholas sat back as the car trundled along. Vash seemed to be a little better, he wasn’t sweating but had seemed to grow a little colder. He leant down and grabbed the red coat, laying it over Vash, hoping it might help. Plants sure were weird. Maybe they just ran cooler than humans. Vash twitched and rolled into Nicholas’ shoulder, curling up. “Tch. Don’t get too comfortable, blondie.” Not that he actually minded. He was going soft… “How’s he doing?” Meryl asked as the car bleeped at her again. “He moved. Still away with the fairies.” “That’s a good sign at least. Oh!” She started to slow down. “Charging site… and with any luck, maybe somewhere to stay. I can check it out if you stay with him.” “Whatever. Anything to get out of here.”

Meryl pulled up and turned to look at them. “Don’t go anywhere. Leave everything to me and I’ll leave him to you. Got that, Undertaker?” “I got it.” Nicholas rolled his eyes. “And you better have not buried him by the time I get back!” “Fine! He’s going to be fine,” he shouted as Meryl slammed the door shut. Nicholas looked down at Vash, curled up so sweetly against him.

A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. Damn. He really had gone soft.

[justahopelessaromantic]

The Blue Smudge (Scene 1: "But I must not think about that. This paper looks to me as if it KNEW what a vicious influence it had!")

Fandom: South Park and The Yellow Wallpaper Ships: K2 (Kenny/Kyle) AU: The Yellow Wallpaper AU Links to Cast of Characters Page and Scenes 2, 3, and 4 Accompanying Playlist for this Fic on Spotify and Youtube Disclaimer: The author of this work does not condone/endorse the messages, themes, and concepts presented by South Park. Considering how said work is melodramatic gay fanfiction written in theatrical script format of all things, I'm sure this seems reasonable to assume. However, it’s astonishing how many times I've stumbled upon people in this fandom who are wholehearted believers of almost everything the show says, and, quite frankly, I would rather evaporate from this plane of existence than potentially be presumed as a bigot or, god forbid, a centrist. Summary: "I get positivity angry with the impertinence of it and the everlastingness. Up and down and sideways they crawl, and those absurd, unblinking eyes are everywhere." (Or:) According to most food safety experts, margarine, when exposed to the elements, lasts for roughly one month before going bad.

SETTING:

A Victorian-style nursery during the daytime with a twin bed. It’s plain and barren, yet livable, though certainly not considered suitable for a baby by modern-day standards. The furniture looks like it's been hastily rearranged and sanded down recently in a vain attempt at accident-proofing the room. Optionally, the room has a single tiny window covered by metal bars. A crib sits right at the edge of stage left, the smaller side facing the audience. Having a working physical door or even a door frame is preferred; however, it can also be portrayed by actors exiting and entering offstage. The room is covered in slowly peeling wallpaper that’s possibly molding, preferably with a swirly, repeating pattern all over it. It’s a gross, faded shade of yellow.

MARGARINE hunches over in the crib. KENNY sits cross-legged while staring towards upstage, chin resting on top of his hands while swaying almost undetectably. KYLE is neatly folding clothes Kenny haphazardly shoved into his suitcase. The only other packed item is a bottle of prescription pills the audience can clearly see. It's quiet for a bit until Kenny pipes up in a soft voice, almost sounding shy.

KENNY

…You don’t…have to, like…stay, you know. I won’t make you-

KYLE

Kenny, for the fifth time, you are not weaseling your way out of this one, bud.

KENNY

(Slightly offended and flustered)

Oh my god, why do you always think I’m gonna-

(Pausing for a beat before giving up)

…some butler, you are. Badmouthing me and not folding my stuff until…uh…how long have we been here?

KYLE

Well, you’ve been here a week, and I’ve got here…I wanna say…Wednesday?

KENNY

(Unreadable)

A…You said a week?

KYLE

Think so.

KENNY

…That doesn’t sound right.

(Slapping his thighs before getting up to stand over Kyle, hands now on his hips)

Whelp! Point is, your customer service is super and there’s still no mint on my pillow! I have half a mind to call corporate and have your license revoked.

(Leaning over to shove his face in front of Kyle’s)

What do you say to that, smart guy?

KYLE

I’d…

(Shoves Kenny’s face away with the palm of his hand playfully)

Say…that that’s not how butlers work, and that I’m the farthest thing from one.

KENNY

Oh, my deepest apologies, good sir. How would you prefer we address you?

KYLE

I hesitate to say indentured servant, honestly…I guess you see me as a…

(Quietly and fondly)

…Caretaker, of sorts.

Kyle looks over at a visibly uncomfortable Kenny who immediately turns away from him and starts fidgeting with his hands, occasionally glancing at the wall. Kyle jumps right into lightening the atmosphere, poking at the fully unzipped parka Kenny is wearing.

One whose only folding today, because someone wouldn’t let me do laundry yesterday, ‘cause he won’t take off this damn jacket-

KENNY

(Flinching and tugging his sleeve away)

…that just sounds like a butler with extra steps.

(Nervously laughs, carefully zipping his parka up once Kyle starts speaking again)

KYLE

(Suddenly snippy)

…Alright, fine. I’m the butler. Give me five good reasons why I shouldn’t go tell-tale heart on your ass for playing hostage all day!

(Starting to fold again)

Like it’s really such a crime to put a roof over your head that isn’t leaking.

KENNY

Hey, man! We might not have the nice chardonnay in our cabinets, but that house has three things your penthouse apartment doesn’t!

KYLE

(Deadpan in some way or another)

You can’t have a penthouse for a college dorm room, Kenny.

KENNY

(Ignoring Kyle, holding up fingers in the air as he counts)

One, a tv with twelve, count ‘em, twelve whole channels! Two, a lack of discipline.

KYLE

Kennith, I am begging you to have even the slightest sense of decorum.

KENNY

And three! My family.

KYLE

(Sarcastically)

Oh, gee willikers. Deadbeat dad, sleazeball mom, and a brother who’s missing in action? I sure am missing out, huh, Ken?

KENNY

(Ignoring him)

And you do have to admit! As nice as this place is, it’s a little…

KYLE

Kenny, unless you got someone to forge your signature on those medical waivers I sent you, I don’t-

KENNY

(Lightheartedly but slightly judgmental)

Oh, don’t act like this was a favor, dickhead! You sweet-talked me into being a lab rat, so you didn’t have to deal with my bitching-

KYLE

(Slamming the clothes in his hands down)

You crawled through my fucking window in the middle of the night, crying your eyes out over all this horrible pain of yours that I somehow happened to miss-

Without warning, Kenny whips around to face upstage again and crosses his arms, rapidly tapping his foot and wagging a finger at it. He anxiously cuts Kyle off.

KENNY

You know, my aunt would kill to get her hands on this wallpaper.

KYLE

(In slight shock, sputtering)

…What?

KENNY

My aunt she…

(Breaking out in a smile and rambling frantically, gradually winding down into semi-peaceful introspection)

…she loves freaky shit like this! Me and her used to sneak my dad’s Playboys into the room we shared when I was younger. Genius was never sober enough to catch us. Although, now that I think about it, I do believe my mother busted my ass about it at one point! I don’t really remember much, but I know my aunt’s cover story sucked ass, which is wild, ‘cause she was an awesome liar! Pretty sure I got away with it though. Maybe she just trusted my aunt? Those two were always whispering shit to each other, figure they must’ve been close. Wonder where they got all that stuff to chit-chat over. Like, I always figured the world took away everything there was to talk about by the time a girl got that old. I asked my auntie what she was saying, but she said it was grown-up stuff and she’d tell me tomorrow, but she was never really around by then, and…

(Shaking his head and hands before picking back up in energy)

Oh! Shit, okay- The point is, after we put Karen to bed, we’d get under the covers, with, uh- with a flashlight, and she’d show me all the different angles and lighting they used, and the way they put the pictures and articles together- You know, the formatting? She got to the bottom of every dirty trick they used to keep us horny bastards hooked!

(Sounding proud of himself)

She taught me everything I know. She- she did the thing you do, when- whenever we do homework together? That thing where you don't tell me the answer, you just point out stuff and you ask me questions, until I just, like…get it, yaknow? She used to call me her little junior detective. God, it was so killer! See…

Kenny briskly walks over and starts tracing the pattern with his fingers to the space above the crib. Meanwhile, Wallpaper Girl slowly slides up, pressing her body against the wallpaper. By the time Kenny gets to her face, she’s standing upright.

Okay, so, most of this stuff’s the same, but these lines over here. They sorta, like…they sort’ve…crawl around, you know? They keep looping into each other, until they get here.

(Stopping above the crib and gesturing playfully)

They get all tangled up in this creepy face up here. Kinda like…

(Giggling to himself)

…like little baby spiders, hatching from their web sack or something! And then they just kinda…

Kenny pauses to audibly catch his breath for a beat, continuing with much less enthusiasm and trailing off at times. He sounds both embarrassed with himself and disturbed by his findings.

…kinda just…off themselves…over here…Like they're…jumping out a window...You think they put the crib here so it looks like it’s catching them? You know, so the kids don’t freak out?

KYLE

…

KENNY

You know, I never got a chance to show her the pictures I got from Grazier, remember that ol’ bastard? She woulda gone gaga over those things, ‘m tellin’ ya.

KYLE

…

KENNY

(Reaching to dig through his pocket)

You know, I think I actually-

KYLE

(Uncomfortable, with caution and concern)

Kenny, that!...uh…that…pattern’s copy and pasted, dude. It doesn’t change.

KENNY

(Glancing between Kyle and the wall in growing disbelief, optimistic yet wary)

No…No, that’s not it. It’s gotta be on purpose.

(Quietly, yet still speaking with determination and purpose)

…Amber’ll get it.

KYLE

Amber?

KENNY

Yeah, my aunt.

(Clasping his hands together and reaching to tear it off)

C’mon, help me get it down so I can surprise her with it when I get back!

Kyle immediately goes to tug Kenny’s hands away. Kenny is unfazed.

KYLE

Wh- wait, wait, what, no! No, for the last time, Kenny! We’re not tearing down- You didn’t even tell me you had an aunt, I’m not gonna let you steal...we’d be liable for-

KENNY

Of course, I told you. I told you when I snuck into your room. What the hell did you think I was crying for?

(Pausing for a beat)

…I mean…I mean not that it was…It’s not…It’s not like it was a big deal or anythi-

LIGHTS OUT.

[arsontisticallyinfernal]

▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ 𝒯𝑜𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁

ミ★ 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 ★彡

Summary: What if Yuu/MC snapped, lashing out at everyone for not even being thanked or asked how they are about the overblots and more.

Content warnings: Bottled up frustration and trauma, swearing, overblot mentions, characters are most likely ooc, yelling, traumatic experiences from the overblots, overbloting[random student] and minor blood

Genre: Angst, no comfort, oneshot

Fandom: Disney: Twisted wonderland

Characters: Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek

Pronouns: They/them reader, He/ him Ace, He/him Deuce, He/him Epel, He/him Jack, He/him Sebek

Edited: hell nah ddfjhsdk, there will be grammar mistakes.

Writing time: On and off for four hours [multi-tasking]

꧁༺….༻꧂

It was a normal day at NRC, the first years made trouble and Yuu was ready to bail them out of shenanigans like always, though right when the sun was starting to set, and everyone started calming down, an overblot happened. It was a random Scarabia student, that of course like everyone else, was facing some mental issues and needed a therapist. Like always, Yuu banded together the rest of the first years and went to Scarabia to face the overblot, it was tricky like most of them, but everyone worked together and defeated the overblot, saving the student's life.

After the overblot, everyone that witnessed the fight was thanking the first years, all the first years besides Yuu. Yuu was laying on the ground, wounded and tired from the fight, exhausted from working too much.

They ran their fingers through their hair and let out a loud sigh, Yuu's eyes were lifeless and there were dark circles underneath, dirt and sand smudged across their entire face, sweat clung to their clothes and skin like a leech and blood trickled down their forehead, unlike the rest of the group that was defended by their magic, Yuu...wasn't. This left them defenseless and the main target, so they just became bait, they distracted the blot the entire fight, running around while the others attacked.

Yuu shakily stood up, and looked to the first years, the Scarabia students crowded them with apologies and thank you's. And yet Yuu was left there, bleeding and covered in dirt, without them the overblot wouldn't have been defeated, along with every other overblot. Yuu frowned at this and tightened their hands into fists and gritted their teeth, their knuckles turned purple and their face red with anger. The prefect quickly left the scene with a scowl, tears pricking at their eyes like thorns in their side.

Yuu arrived back at campus, walking back from the teleporter with tear streaks down their face. "Yuu! Wait up!" A familiar voice called out from behind, causing Yuu to hurriedly try to wipe away the tear stains, turning around and giving Ace a smile, behind him they see the rest of the first year squad treading behind. "Hey guys" Yuu greeted, giving an uneasy and sour-looking smile. "Where'd you run off to after the fight?" "Well obviously here-" Deuce gave a snarky response to his dormmates question, earning him a jab in the ribs, so Jack spoke up. "You okay, Yuu? I noticed how beaten up you were" the beastman asked, concerned. "You know it was foolish of you to do that!" Sebek scolded, mentioning when you were distracting the blot monster. "I know, I know. But how else would you guys fight that thing?" "Well, we didn't need you distracting it, we're strong enough to fight on our own, we've done this plenty of times!" Ace huffed, crossing his arms. Everyone gave him a warning glance, but it seemed that this was Yuu's last straw.

"What the fuck do you mean." Yuu's face fell into a grimace, their hands balled into fists, and they spoke in a threatening tone. "Say that one. more. time." The magicless student spat, their tone venomous with bottled wrath threatening to spill onto everyone. Epel tried to speak up but he was cut off by Yuu's piercing voice. "I did...everything! Without me the overblots wouldn't ever be defeated! You'd all be dead! I'm the one that suffers from the overblots the most, I'm the one that has to deal with them! I'm not even from this fucking magical world! I'm still waiting for our stupid headmage to find me a way to go home!" They yelled, hands reaching up to their hair and pulling it, their eyes were wide and they looked at the squad with a look that showcased nothing but rage. "Yuu..." Jack whispered in pity, his tail hung low and ears pinned to his head, they all looked shocked, wide eyes and mouths agape. "Yuu...we're sorry" They couldn't tell who was speaking anymore, their eyes filled with tears and everyone sounded the same. "I'm done. That's it. I'm going back to Ramshackle. If no one is thankful for what I've done then there's no point in doing a thing."

That night the squad was left speechless, it was unusual for them all to be this quiet, especially Sebek. They could only pray to the great seven they didn't lose Yuu, not yet. The only way they all got info on Yuu was through Grim, yet they had to bribe the feline with tuna to even get an atom worth of info, but that was enough, that was good enough even if Yuu never spoke to them anymore, for now.

꧁༺….༻꧂

Requests are always open

[smurphyse]

Smurph's Masterlist

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~ Smurph <3

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Eddie Munson in black and white

Out Of The Cold - August Lione, King of Mydenya, is in love with his dead wife. Admittedly lonely and touch starved, he reluctantly marries Lyca Ingemar to stifle the requests of his advisors and to have an heir or two. He begins to fall for his new wife while she treats their marriage as one of duty and convenience, wishing she was at her cottage in the woods instead of with him.

As war looms and Lyca's past comes to light, can her and August's budding relationship survive the revelations coming out of the cold?

Stuck in the Middle - After a bad relationship, you make the self-destructive decision to sleep with your stepbrother, Eddie. When Steve Harrington enters the picture, your life changes in ways you never expected. [SMUT] [Throuple AU]

Routine Maintenance - After prison, Spencer spends two years wandering the country in search of himself the way Gideon did. When he finally makes his way to Thunderbird, California, his car breaks down, and he meets a small-town motel owner with an attitude and a collection of townspeople that help him see how much living he has left to do. [Runaway AU] [SMUT]

Zero to Hero - After being saved by a strange girl living in the Upside Down, Eddie recuperates with her in a secluded cabin away from the rest of the world. [Eddie Munson x Experiment 000!Reader][SMUT]

Cherry Baby, Part 2, Part 3 - Needing a way to pay for your daughter's dance lessons, you turn to Eddie Munson's porno side business for cash. [3 Parter][SMUT] COMPLETED

Lesser of Two Evils - When you escape your abusive boyfriend Loki's compound, you flee through the streets of New York only to be found by his rival. Caught in the middle of the war between HYDRA and the Norns, you agree to give James Barnes your body in exchange for protection.[SMUT]

Note: This is a dubcon/noncon fic! Heavy violent content and smut will be prevalent. Read at your own risk and mind the warnings at the beginning of each chapter. [Dark Mafia Romance]

Over Your Shoulder - A familiar face from Spencer's past joins the BAU, his ex-girlfriend Jasper Donnelly, who left him fourteen years, two months, and fifteen days ago. A slow-burn love story in which Jasper and Spencer figure out who they are together and apart, and whether or not the horrific things they'd done and been through over the years are enough to keep them together... or destroy them. [Smut] [Long Lost Love AU] [Angst with Happy Ending]

Operation: Sand Leopard - A year after leaving the BAU, Spencer Reid is restless and struggling to adjust to civilian life. Not finding any fulfillment or respite in it, he decides to take a position with Homeland. On assignment he meets you, a former Master Gunnery Sergeant with the USMC, struggling to find a drug trafficker and terrorist on one of the most dangerous bases in the world- Balad Air Base in Iraq... aka Bombaconda. [Eventual Smut] [Angst with Happy Ending]

Room 405 - You looked forward to Room 405 each week. Sitting at work, you would pout to yourself and lightly drag your pen up and down your thighs, thinking of all the wondrous things you two got up to in that hotel room. Chains, whips, spankings, anything could happen on Friday nights, 7 pm in Room 405. [PWP - Dom!Spencer] [Angst with Happy Ending][SMUT]

A Devastating Affair - When the Reader ends her affair with Spencer, they both spiral and start playing a toxic game of emotional chicken. [Toxic Relationship][SMUT]

Bunny and the Beast - When Reader's neighbor Spencer decides he just can't sit and watch her being all pretty by herself, they begin a toxic game of cat-and-mouse. [Dubious Consent/Toxic Relationship][SMUT]

Mutual Irritation - A year after prison, a jaded Spencer Reid takes on a special assignment at Emily's request... to babysit Finn Doyle's ex-girlfriend while the BAU hunts for him. He doesn't want to do it, nor does he want to be solely responsible for her safety. When the two meet, they don't get along, but over time they find they quite enjoy one another... even with the threat of a jealous Irish Arms Dealer hanging over their heads. [Angst with Happy Ending] [Jaded!Spencer Reid][SMUT]

The Arrangement - After Loki's lost bet with Thor, D.B. Cooper causes chaos on Midgard, and a war with Vanaheim rises in the East, so Odin proposes a wager of his own to his youngest son: An arranged marriage, one for the public. If the terms of the deal are honored for twenty years, Loki will be let out of the union and free from Odin's intervention or wrath ever again. Loki thinks this bet will be an easy win, but our boy is very wrong. His new wife has an agenda of her own, and Loki is determined to figure out what it is. Loki quickly finds himself out of his depth, unprepared for husbandry or fatherhood, and learns that marriages -arranged or not- are hard work. [Pre!Avengers Loki] [Arranged Marriage AU][SMUT]

Death From Above - Tim has a bad day. His girlfriend dumps him, he punches an FBI Agent, and they're getting a new girl in the office. He hooks up with a mysterious woman from a local joint, only to find out that she's their new co-worker. As Helen O'Malley settles more in Harlan County, her past comes back knocking, and it will send the whole office into an epic shitstorm that they may not recover from. [Tim Gutterson, Justified][SMUT]

One Way Mirror - You like to spend your down time at a certain type of club... anonymity is key, but then one day the boys from the team come in for some nighttime fun. [foursome, Reader/Alvez/Hotchner/Reid][SMUT]

A Moment In Time - Spencer spends his nights wandering, watching life go on without him. [Fluff, drabble, open ending, happy]

Man vs. Silicone - The ultimate showdown of which is the better toy... Eddie? or your sparkly pink guy you keep in the nightstand?[SMUT]

Daddy's Princess - You and Eddie have been sneaking around for months now. You call him Daddy and he calls you Princess... but so does your father. Eddie takes advantage.[SMUT]

I Want You - Reader makes Spencer jealous enough to act after he refuses to make a move [Smut]

Touch - Spencer and the Reader are forced to room together six months after their breakup, and when she wakes to him spooning her, she freaks out a bit [Ambiguous Ending, Angst]

No Funny Business - Forced to bunk with Luke and the Reader, Spencer finds himself a bit in over his head when he gropes the reader in her sleep [Threesome, Married!LukexReader and Spencer][SMUT]

Inkpot Gods - After giving birth to their son, Reader has complications during delivery. The doctors tell Spencer she might not wake up, and he has to prepare for a life without her for the sake of their son. Since he's not great with talking about his feelings except with her, Spencer decides to write a letter to nobody to work through his emotions. [Angst with Happy Ending]

Closet Confessions - A late night at the office leads to Spencer and Reader getting stuck in the supply closet. [GN!Reader]

A Real Father's Love - Spencer proves how much he wants to spend time with Reader's son, and it... sets something primal loose inside her. [Breeding Kink][SMUT]

The View From Here - Reader locks herself out of her apartment when she comes home drunk, and her handsome neighbor comes to the rescue.

Drunk on You - Spencer's nervous about never having had sex, but he wants to lose his virginity to you [First Times, P*ssy Drunk Spencer][SMUT]

Southern Belle - Loki is dating a young woman who is a fantastic cook and one day he realizes his pants are a tad tight. He’s gained some weight!

Fruit of the Flower - Loki helps Thor retrieve some magical plant and Loki gets too close when it blooms.

You're Not Them - Our dear reader has entered The Void! And she can't find Loki... but he finds her. The catch? It's not *her* Loki.

Here's the link to my old Masterlist!

Would you like to be on my taglist? Send me an ask and let me know which fandom you'd like to be notified for! <3

[anthurak]

I’ve talked before about one of the big reasons I DON’T think Loona and Octavia are actually going to have the straightforward ‘wholesome sisterly relationship’ that a lot of fans seem to have latched onto and might be expecting. But more than that, I’d like to talk about the main reason why I just don’t like this interpretation of Loona and Octavia, at least outside of AU settings, and why I don’t think we should be expecting it from the show itself.

What I feel a lot of fans don’t seem to quite grasp is that possibly the greatest strength of Helluva Boss’s character writing is the use of contrast.

Helluva Boss is a show set in actual Hell, with all of the misery and torment that implies, and that’s not even going into how Hell is deliberately written as a dystopic, crapsack world to live in. Our main characters are a company of assassins, hired killers who murder humans for a simple paycheck. And most of them are fairly miserable people with deep-seated traumas and very messy and dysfunctional relationships.

But it is precisely all that negativity which those positive emotional moments hit all the harder. It’s what makes Moxie’s and Millie’s relationship seem all the more special and wholesome when it seems like they are the only couple in Hell to have found such a genuinely and unconditionally loving and HAPPY relationship. It’s what makes the times Blitzo is able to genuinely bond with Loona and the M&Ms or Stolas is able to connect with his daughter feel special because it’s clear this is NOT an easy thing for them to do.

So if we start trying to ‘sand off the edges’ and downplay the uglier, painful problems that our characters are dealing with, or even try to pretend they don’t even exist, then we start depriving these characters of precisely the things that make their successes so meaningful. Like the big thing that makes Blitzo’s and Stolas’s relationships with each other and their respective daughters so compelling and interesting is BECAUSE these two are such utter disastrous WRECKS as both parents and people in general. Of course, that’s not to say they have to STAY miserable and dysfunctional messes in order to stay interesting. Just that the way they should be getting out of this mess should be through hard-earned character development and not simply having the writers or audience wipe the problems away and pretend they don’t exist just to create some arbitrary ‘wholesome family dynamic’.

The whole reason Loona’s and Octavia’s scene together in this latest episode hits as well as it does is because we know what both these girls have been through. We’ve seen the kind of trauma and baggage they’re both carrying around. So when they finally find SOMEONE who they can truly relate to, someone who they know actually GETS what they are going through, it hits SO much harder. We’ve seen Loona be this very mean, confrontational, incredibly abrasive and extremely guarded person who seems to can’t help but keep both a physical and emotional distance from basically everyone she meets. So when we see her finally let her guard down and show this incredible openness, empathy and warmth to Octavia, it makes both the scene and the blossoming friendship between these two feel all the more special.

And this all leads back to my issue with how a lot of the fandom seems to expect Loona, Octavia, Blitzo and Stolas to form some straightforward wholesome, homogenous family unit.

Because that’s just NOT the kind of show this is.

Everything we’ve seen of Helluva Boss paints this show as the story of people with a LOT problems. Hang-ups, baggage, deep-seated traumas and dysfunctional relationships. Yet it also seems to be the story about how those people yearn for happiness and fulfillment, and can one day even find that happiness. That certainly seems to be the story the show is playing out with Blitzo and Stolas.

Helluva Boss seems to be a show about people finding themselves in weird, unconventional and even dysfunctional relationships, yet ultimately finding a way to turn those relationships into some happy and fulfilling. I mean, just look at the M&Ms. The whole narrative point of Moxie’s and Milly’s relationship is to show these two oddballs in the middle of actual Hell who nonetheless clearly couldn’t be happier with each other. Despite all conventional wisdom of those around them, these two have found a way to make their relationship WORK.

And it’s for that reason that I just don’t see Blitzo and Stolas winding up with some straightforward ‘happily ever after’ where they’re married and raising their two daughters like a lot of the fandom seems to be expecting/hoping. Can these two ultimately be happy together? Of course. It’s just going to take a whole lot of WORK from both of them. And it’s NOT going to be easy OR pretty. And I highly doubt it’s going to end with Blitzo and Stolas forming some idyllic nuclear family with their daughters.

Like that’s not even touching on the fact that Loona and Octavia are clearly NOT kids anymore. Loona is already freaking 22 and the story seems to be view Octavia MUCH more as a young adult than ‘just a kid’ (more on that in an upcoming post). So by the time Blitzo and Stolas are able to work out an actually happy, healthy relationship, they’re NOT going to be two dads raising two daughters, but rather two dads with GROWN-UP daughters who have probably figured out their own lives independent of their dads.

I do think we are ultimately going to see Blitzo and Stolas in a genuinely happy relationship together, and find a healthy, functional relationship with their daughters. It’s just not going to be tight-knit family unit that I think a lot of the fandom is expecting.

[linasofia]

Our Secret

Armitage Summer Splash #8

Fandom: The Man from Rome

Trope: A secret is found out

Quote: “Show me your face.”

Relationship: Father Lorenzo Quart x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ⚠️ Please don’t read this if the thought of a priest breaking his vow of celibacy might offend you.

A/N: I made it to week two before I fell into the FQ trap again. This is a sequel to my previous fics about FQ, but it can also be read as a standalone. You can find all my FQ fics in my masterlist.

Thanks @legolasbadass for your feedback!💙

The spring sun can be merciless in all its glory. Even if the blinds are down, the small rays of light find their way through some holes and land on my large screen, making my excel sheet almost unreadable. Not that I mind the nice weather, now that it’s finally here, but it would be easier to work if my employer actually bothered to take a bigger interest in the office and the problems we face with the indoor climate. But I could not be upset today, not when it’s Friday; I’m leaving early and I’m planning to see Lorenzo after he is finished in church. Just thinking of him warms my body more than the sun can on a hot summer day. We have passed the six months mark in our very secret, but extremely passionate relationship, and sometimes I have to pinch myself just to make sure it’s not a dream. Being with him is like a wonderful dream and at the same time a nightmare. I am constantly worried that our secret will be exposed and that Lorenzo will be forced to make a choice. We never talk about that small, but very significant detail and in a way, we are better like this. I know how much the church means to him and I am afraid that, if he is given the ultimatum, the risk of losing him is imminent.

When my phone gives a soft buzz, I smile to myself. Maybe he is thinking of me, just like I am thinking of him. Maybe he texts to tell me to pick something up on the way home. Maybe-

The text is not what I was expecting. After reading it twice, I’m still trying to take in my older sister's message. She is in town for a business meeting and wants to stay for the weekend with me. My impulsive, loving and caring sister. Always two steps ahead of everything and never looking back. I smile to myself, picturing her tapping her fingers on the screen of her phone as she impatiently waits for me to answer. My reply is short since I see my boss seeking my attention by waving her hand outside the conference room. I tell my sister she is more than welcome to stay but that I would have preferred a heads up a little earlier. She quickly excuses herself but I know she will do the same again. And I will forgive her for it.

I can hear the disappointment linger in Lorenzo’s voice when I give him the news, but I know him well enough to be certain he would never stand in the way of a sibling reunion.

“At least I get to see you on Sunday. You’ll be there as usual, I hope?”

Even after all these months he still asks me, never taking my presence for granted. And I assure him, like every week, that I’m coming. How can I resist watching him leading us all in prayer and performing sermons? My sister will join me I’m sure, since her interest in the architectural aspect of church almost overpowers her spiritual interest.

The sand always seems to pass faster through the hourglass when my sister is around, and before I know it Sunday is at my doorstep. Spring is still holding the days in its warm embrace and I meet the day in one of my most loved dresses. I happen to know that the dress is one of Lorenzo’s favorites as well and even if I plan to be a good and respectful girl, I hope he notices my choice of clothes today. My dearest sister, who spent most of the Saturday spending money in an endless stream of shops, looks stunning in her new beige jumpsuit. It was not hard to persuade her to come with me for today’s visit and just as I predicted, she stops in awe as we cross the square in front of the cathedral. The afternoon sun hangs low over the city and makes the towers glow in the light.

“Look at that,” she says breathlessly. “I had almost forgotten how beautiful this building really is.” She gives me a warm smile that matches the impact from the sun on my bare arms and with her arm under mine we walk up the stairs to the large wooden door. The beautifully crafted iron handle feels familiar in my hand as I open the door and let the scent of candles and expectations surround us. Familiar faces mingle with newcomers and my sister and I follow the crowd inside.

The pews are filling up fast but we manage to find room in the front and when seated, my sister turns her attention to the ceiling, the wonderful paintings and the large, beautiful stained glass window that allows the sun to wrap us all in its light. We sit and wait in silence and I bend my head, breathing softly and feeling the love and gratitude filling me. At this moment there is no other place on earth I would rather be with her. The deep clear ringing from the bells pulls my attention back to the room. I can feel Lorenzo’s eyes on me and I happily meet his gaze. He never fails to take my breath away and today is no exception. The green chasuble makes the azure color in his eyes even deeper than usual and soon his characteristic voice fills the air and just like so many times before I feel the warmth in his words enchant me. Seeing him like this is a blessing in itself but an old and unwelcome anxious feeling briefly fills my heart. He belongs here, in God’s house, where he gives so much to so many. I only have him on loan and that thought always frightens me.

”Who is he?” My sister interrupts my thoughts with a low whisper. I pretend I did not hear her but then she discreetly leans into me. ”The priest, who is he?”

”Father Quart.” I simply answer, determined not to give her anything more. She mumbles something I cannot hear and when I look at her a while later, I see her focusing more on Lorenzo than the other beautiful things under this roof. His hair is just a little shorter than the last time I saw him but it only makes the grey strands gracing his temples more visible. The stubble is at a perfect length, significant but it doesn’t look scruffy. His eyes glow with passion as he speaks and I certainly cannot blame her.

When the chorus starts to sing I feel a warm hand on my forearm. ”Do you think he will be available for a confession before I go back home?” She whispers as she gently squeezes my arm. ”He is absolutely gorgeous. How can a man like him be a priest? Is that even allowed? What a waste. Have you done it?”

”What?” I almost choke on my own words and let out a small cough. ”Done what?”

”Have you confessed your sins to him?”

Memories of our first meeting wash over me like a bucket of warm water poured over my head. The hard chair in the confessional, his deep voice seeping through the partition and the burning feelings for him I could not resist acting on while his gaze rested on me. I gasp involuntarily at the memory and the fiery color of shame spreads over my cheeks. Lorenzo meets my gaze from his position by the altar and it just increases the heat in my face. I can tell by his small frown that he notices my discomfort but there is nothing he can do, except carry on with the sermon. My heart is beating like a drum inside my chest and I look down at my hands which nervously smooth the fabric of my dress. I can feel my sister staring at me.

”Why are you acting so weird? It was just a simple question.” Her voice is concerned and I can almost feel her starting to understand when she once more leans into me. But she doesn’t know about the battle against my emotions I have to conquer. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. ”Yes, I have confessed to him.” I whisper back.

From the corner of my eye, I can see her looking at me and then at Lorenzo. Then she turns her attention to me again. I know he is watching me, I don’t even have to look to confirm it, I feel it in every fiber of my body. And suddenly I’m afraid my sister feels it too.

“Sis,” she whispers, ”Something's not right. Why are you not looking at me? Show me your face.”

I slowly raise my head and turn to her. Her eyes are filled with worry and hold questions that I know she wants answers to. ”You know him, don’t you? Father Quart?”

Another wash of heat. I falter. Why did I take her here? I could have skipped church just this Sunday. My teeth bite down on my lower lip hard and then I give her a small nod. There is no point in denying that part.

”We will go for a coffee when this is over. And you will tell me everything.” My sister’s piercing look as she speaks again makes me feel much younger than my years. There is no room for protests in her demand and I close my eyes.

Father in Heaven, please give me strength.

Did you like it? Please like, comment or/and reblog! ❤️

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @laurfilijames @legolasbadass @i-did-not-mean-to @middleearthpixie @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @kibleedibleedoo @enchantzz @legolaslovely @mariannetora @myselfandfantasy @s0ftd3m0n @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra

Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[eat0crow]

I’ve been seeing an increasingly large amount of people get into fic binding lately, which is fucking amazing! I love each and every one of you guerilla publishers! With the history of fandom takedowns, purges, and the bull shit legislation corporations try and start every few years, it’s so good that fics are being given permanency. 

I’ve noticed that fic binders seem to be focused on longer fics, ones in the 50k onward range, which makes sense and is great because these fics absolutely deserve to be put into print! But, the thing is, my favorite fics have almost always been short one-shots, and no one seems to be talking about binding them.

So! I’m gonna show you how to bind short one-shots.

A couple of things before we get started, the method I’m going to show you is called saddle stitching, it works best for works between 5-20k. This method is affordable, utilizing things you most likely have already, and lasts years. (I have booklets that are literally a decade old and still holding strong.)

For longer works Coptic binding is my personal favorite, it’s not only affordable but also produces some beautiful spines. (Video talks about different types of string, but shows off some gorgeous spine work). If you have a little more money to spend on a project, I recommend hardcover binding. I don’t like perfect binding and while Japanese style binding is pretty it’s a nightmare on your margins.

 @armoredsuperheavy​ has an amazing list and perfect tutorial that has everything you need to know about bookbinding and typesetting . The tutorial goes into in-depth detail on exactly what you need to do every step of the way. The only thing I do differently when printing one-shots is that I only have one signature so I  print everything as one booklet. This orders the pages for you.

The most important thing you have to remember is to select flip on the short edge.

Also, add page numbers, trust me when I say it makes everything a world easier.

What I use:

Body text: Garamond 10.5

Meta information: Garamond 8

No gutter

A 1 inch top and bottom margin, and a .7 inch margin on both the inside and outside (Note: If your work is closer to 20k you’re going to need to account for page creep, so I recommend adjusting your outside margin to .9 and your inside margin to .5, this will even out when you cut)

What you’re going to need: 

Mircosoft word—Sorry, I know everyone uses google docs now, but you’re going to need Word in order to print this as a booklet. If you have Adobe Indesign you can use that too, but it’s more expensive.

Card stock or craft paper—Anything 75lbs or more.

Embroidery Floss and Needle. Super cheap compared—and if you have beeswax on hand—the exact same as bookbinding string.

Ruler

Scissors

Craft Knife

Nail file 

Index cards

Clips

Thumbtack

(Washi tape is an extra to add decoration and protect the string, though, if you really want to reinforce the spine duct tape is amazing.)

Okay! Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get started.

What you’re going to do is carefully fold your card stock and pages in half, ends flush together, running the edge of your ruler or bone folder, if you have one, over the crease. You’re then you’re going to start placing your pages inside the cover. To minimize page creep, each time you add a page, first push it in place with the needle, then go back over the crease with your ruler or bone folder. It should look like this when done—

You’re going to prep your booklet for sewing next.

What you’re going to do first is open the booklet up, make sure everything lines up as close to perfect as you can, then fold the index cards over the side of the book, to prevent the pages from creasing due to the clips. Then clip them in place to prevent wiggling and make the hole punching easier. Do this to all four sides.

Traditional saddle stitching uses three holes, and you can too, but I like to use seven because it maintains better tension. For my hole guide, I measure 1 and 1/4th of an inch up to my first hole—this leaves me about 1 and 1/4th of an inch between the bottom of my page and the seventh hole. From the first hole, everyone after that is measured 1 inch apart.

After you’ve measured everything, it’s time to jam the thumbtack through the marks you’ve made. The pages have a tendency to move as you do this, so it’s vitally important that all four sides are being held in place with those clips. (If you have an awl, cool beans, they work better.)

For the love of God do not put the crease between your thighs when you start hole punching. I know it’s easier, but learn from my dumbassery and don’t do it bitch!

You should have something like this—

Now it’s time to sew. Which, because I’m weird and love hand stitching, is my favorite part.

I use one strand of floss, folded over for a double-stranded effect. I find this works best because each hole is gone through twice, leaving a four-ply binding. When measuring how much string to use, my rule is double the length of the spine, triple if you’re feeling unsure.

Now traditionally you’re going to start from the inside outward, leaving your tail within the book. I like to leave my tail on the outward spine because I cover it with washi tape. What you’re going to do now, is go in through your 4th hole(Leave around two inches for a tail, more if this is your first time), out through 5, back in through 6, like this—

When you get to seven you're going to follow the same pattern until you get to hole 1, where you will turn and sew toward the middle. When you get to hole 3 for the second time, you’re going to double knot the tail to your string and cut off the ends.

A note about tension, it’s important that you maintain even tension throughout each hole, this takes practice, but it gets loads easier the more times you do it. You want your string to be tight, with just enough give to make closing the book easy. If you have too much tension, over time the strings will wear through the pages. Too little and the pages will move around inside the binding.

Essentially your sewing pattern will be: in 4, out 5, in 6, out 7, in 6, out 5, knot the end, in 4, out 3, in 2, out 1, in 2, out 3, knot.

It should look like this when done—

Now you might notice this along the edge of your book—

That’s page creep. Some people leave it, I cut it away. This is the biggest pain in the ass of the entire process, and I have yet to get a perfectly clean edge any time I’ve done. The only way to get that clean edge is with a guillotine, but I don’t have one, so this is where the craft knife comes in. (If you don’t have one, you can use a box cutter, provided the blade is fresh.)

What you’re going to do now is place your ruler along the edge of the paper you’re going to cut away. Pro-tip, I recommend cutting 1/16th of an inch into the card stock, 1/8th of an inch into the entire edge of the book so that each of your pages have the same starting point, like this—

Becuase my hands shake really bad when I apply tension to them, I stick my book under a sheet of glass, hold it down with a big old book, and use my body weight to keep everything in place.

It’s important that you go slow, cut page by page, and apply even tension from the top of the book down to the bottom.

Now if you’ve done this and still get these little fly aways—

Join the club! Fortunately, they’re really easy to get rid of and smooth out, just use your nail file to sand out the edge.

And that’s it! Congratulations, you’ve bound your very first book!! If you want to hide the spine add your tape, but if not, you’re done, my friend!