#there are SO many more things I want to draw but after tomorrow I am going to have approximately 0 time and energy for another month

[scopophobia-polaris]

So, to add on to Navi's post, because her whole read for the original was getting screenshots from the game to debunk what was said, of course....we are now here. I want to tell you that no one here disagreed with your conclusion about Ganondorf being a victim. What we here disagreed with was the method you used to get there. Simplifying Ganondorf down to solely good or solely evil is something this Fandom does all the time with little to no nuance. And even though you have written an eloquent essay, Published even! You twisted or outright made up parts of the game to get to your conclusion. In essay writing, that's called a logical fallacy, and the whole essay either twists what happens in the game or outright gets it wrong.

Now people are probably gonna wonder why I'm treating this like a big deal or why I'm speaking so blunt, because this is by all means very stupid fandom drama.

But I think when you're a college prof and you get an essay published and it's online for people to read everywhere without you, one, not giving the context behind Ganondorf's creation and the coding of his appearance and motivations, two the complexities of a corporate conglomerate in a notoriously socially conservative country taking aesthetics from countries who were historically colonized. And Three, The way that video games are a collaborative effort with usually no singular vision, this is very true at nintendo despite what people may think, and at any moment changes can be made for any reason by team leads or executives that would hinder or even hurt a story. It detrimental to the audience reading it that you do not provide them more of a couple of screenshots

Basically, many things go into a story and now I'm taking this more from a DOYLIST view right here talking about Nintendo. But I'm doing this because you keep trying to say..... well fuck man do I need to pull up more examples? Navi got them all, the whole essay is you trying HEAVILY to imply that Nintendo MEANT to do all of this, as in intentional in the story, idk I feel crazy, words have meaning, specific wording has implication, oh and this dosent even get into how localization can change things 😃😀 wording has meaning and sometimes translators don't have cultural contexxxtttttttt and to not even mention about Nintendo's history or even the short hand that comes from Ganondorf's design and the historical Orientalism behind it feels like a disservice to the paper, but much more qualified people then I have discussed the way Ganondorf is written and probably would love to discuss or link to previous writing again if asked.

And this is a cold take but Nintendo isn’t the place you should be looking to for deep story telling, they will always be a corporate entity first and the bottom line is a general audience, this does not mean JUST KIDS this means to a generalized population. And this is extremely cynical but a lot of people cant even handle the complexity of a female character who is mean, like Midna, do you really think people would handle a Ganondorf like how he is in Tp being portrayed in any form of film language as good????? This game dropped 5 years after 9/11, Nintendo was never gonna lose out in money like that.

And Dude people have given so much shit to HUGE fanartists and comic authors about their work portraying Ganondorf in a sympathetic light, you would of thunk more people would of picked up on Ganondorf's story being written as tragedy if there was something in the game that actually DID that. Maybe they would of written a blog post about how Midna saw Link kill Ganondorf and was ashamed of that or Ganondorf TOTALLY said the history of light and shadow will be written in blood thing before the final battle, you think people would of talked about huh why did Ganondorf say that there or something and maybe went 🤔 instead of it being argued that Tp Ganondorf had the weakest writing of the series until TotK threw a pile of flaming shit at my door with a picture of Ganondorf on it.

Navi also goes in depth on how Hyrule has not exactly stagnated like what was claimed in History of Light and Shadow by using the Goron merchants and Yeto as examples.

Rynling has stated that the cause of the stagnation and decline is due to an ineffectual leader that has "Not allowed its people to be revitalized by change and diversity."

Now I am familiar with the flaws of an undetermined national unity, I am very familiar with the subject, but I’m not going to speak like an authority. Id rather let someone much more qualified make that post and I link back to it, because i know its coming. But Navi said in her post that the idea of what could of happened at Arbiter's Grounds can completely blow over someone's head if they didn't play OoT first, and I think more or less this is accurate, certain things are lost in Wind Waker even with the recaps, but I wanna join in on this in my own way...

Rynling....you may say Hyrule has been on a decline during Tp......you may even think OoT had a more stable Hyrule or some shit.....i THINK YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE PLOT OF OCARINA OF TIME BAYBEEEEEEE

THE SUPPLEMENTAL MATERIAL THAT I CAN PULL UP TO PROVE MY SHIT ABOUT OOT HYRULE BEING DOG SHIT IN COMPARISON TO TP

Like if you're seriously gonna link me and Navi to your essay then I am about to go full BTW it's a Sativa and eat that bitch after midnight cuZ we YELLIN ABOUT OCARINA OF TIME ON THIS POST FOR EVERYONE🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

All of Ocarina of Time's narrative is haunted by the civil war, the whole reason why Link is being raised in the woods is cuz of the civil war, the Sheikah are implied to have died out during the same conflict, and well its said that Hyrule was unified during it

Civil War yet the translators use unified the country like it WASNT under a sole ruler before? Hello? I need to go back through the Japanese script for the game again to see if i missed something of the game and freak it harder. And do realize the Deku sprout in this screenshot says fierce war but every where else, including the Zelda wiki (not fandom) its CIVIL War.

The Gate to Death mountain and Simultaniously the fence at Zora's river gives us and idea that peace was....tenuous at best downright hostile at worse given relations with the Gerudo

so today we gonna do some fun comparing and contrasting the Gorons and how they are treated in OoT to TP

and we gonna start with his racist ass BHJBHDBHKCJW

I mean, damn remmeber how mad Darunia is at Link for being the supposed royal family messenger? Link Unlocking the door to Darunia's room with Zelda's lullaby, I think it's a little funny that Darunia is hung up , you know, like he knows this is some disrespectful shit

Hey wannna hear some shit? The gates at the edge of death mountain aren't guarded by Gorons and were not built by them you can tell, the only way to visit the mountain is to get permission from the King to go up and not from the people that actually live there

God and like, there is something about the way Darunia locks himself in his room, like he does it to keep the ruby safe from all the other Gorons being so hungry that he's frightened they're gonna eat it, he doesn't know what to do on how to act about the Dodongos that Ganondorf summon on him for not giving over that rock. It qlmost sounds like when Ganondorf came in and Threatened Darunia, and that he (Darunia) sent a message to the royal family asking for help, why else would he be expecting someone to come meet with him?

"If I'm not mistaken, you came out here to eat the red stone too! Well, too bad! It's not here! What? That's not why you're here? You're looking for a "Spiritual Stone?" You must mean that delicious-looking red stone that was once displayed above the city! I was so hungry that I thought it would be OK to just give it one tiny, little lick...so I snuck up there. But it was already gone! I think Big Brother took it away. He always says that everyone is after that red stone! Big Brother has shut himself up in his room saying, "I will wait in here for the Royal Family's messenger!" this is a quote from the Goron that you can find on the middle of the rope bridge thing in Goron city.

Yeah so he sent a letter or something and no one answered yeesh.

contrast this all with TP where OH LOOKS WHO'S GUARDING DEATH MOUNTAIN

so in TP spoilers, this happens

Kakariko is more connected then ever! Renado here is wondering what the hell is going on with their FRIENDS. And yeah the Goron elder Gor Coron is trying to keep the last few people from kakariko left safe, and other Gorons, i mean, theyre keeping a piece of the fused shadow in there. also the way that entry into the temple goes in this game is cute, Darunia was freaking it cuz everyone is starving, but here Link wrestles his way up a mountain to ask the Gron elder whats happening since he was asked to come here by Renado, Gor Coron goes DAMN

unless......?

IDK ITS LIKE? ITS SILLY? Idk Hyrule isnt the best place but why try and act like this doesnt happen during TP?

so where am i getting at with this? the hell was going on back during OoT? If things are so odd and weirdly tense with the gates gaurds and non responses

"As time passed, the Triforce became a legend, and the different people of Hyrule forgot the laws and wisdom that the goddesses had left behind. Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo. It seemed every race of Hyrule was at the other's throat. Only the secluded Kokiri, sheltered by their magical forest and the Great Deku Tree, were spared the destruction of Hyrule's civil wars.

After 50 years of ceaseless combat, there arose a Hylian King of great wisdom, courage and power. Through his brilliant military campaigns and wise diplomacy, he was able to bring the varied people of Hyrule into a tenuous harmony. Treaties of peace were signed, and prosperity once again seemed to bloom in Hyrule. But no sooner had people declared peace in Hyrule than trouble once again stalked the land."

Tenuous Harmony, could you imagine if they dropped a line like this in Creating a champion? The tumblr side of the fandom would go fucking nuts with that info like OHHHHH SHIT WAS GOING ONNNNNN

This was ALL on the offical Nintendo Zelda website back when oot was the big game out, we have this cuz someone saved it to the wayback, THIS SCREENSHOT WAS FROM DECEMBER 14TH 2001, ABOUT A FULL YEAR AND A DAY UNTIL WIND WAKER WAS RELEASED IN JAPAN. THAT'S INSANE RIGHT???? ‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

And then it all probably got deleted once wind waker became the new thing!!! Or when they wanted to modernize and deleted it!!! THAT SUCKS RIGHT????

And what's worse is that it introduces some new info and also clarifies something. Hey you know when I made that post like damn Darunia racist as hell

"Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo."

NO WHERE IN THE GAME THE LEGEND OF ZELDA OCARINA OF TIME IT SAYS THIS, IT DOES NOT STATE THERE WAS CONFLICT BETWEEN THE GORONS AND GERUDO.....LIKE DIN GET YA KIDS.....IM LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR SOMETHING I MUST OF MISSED.

But Like oh hey a fucking explanation to why he just fucking says that, I figure it was cuz of Ganondorf trying to almond mom all of them or that he kept talking to the King and well.....Navi already showed the GENERAL reaction to the Gerudo in castle town.

it went from oh hes just racist to dARUNIA AND GANONDORF HAVE HISTORY????

But the interesting one is why did thy Zora "marched on the Hylians."

Like sitting here like, I know a comic made in Germany shouldn't be a be all end all in shit I knew it never was and it would like. If you put this in warrior cats canonicoty categorization would be considered lower down supplementary material dubious canon, but their are things in the comic AND the Himekawa manga that behinds some behind the scenes actions given that LINK'S MOM HAS A MOSTLY CONSISTENT DESIGN WHAT THE HELLLLLLLL. And I always thought the Goron Zora war thing was stupid but Nintendo then had that out on their website, what the hell was going ON.

Because idk i didnt think much of Zora De Bon XVI and the Hyrulien King's relationship but

Now a days the Zelda website is much different and does not have lore pages like this anymore, it's more like a summary of the timeline. But yeah actually Nintendo approved shit, Hylian/Zora war.

Hyrule is progressing, its just going slowly, Hyrule is not AS stifled by its monarchy or a lack of integration during TP because Hyrule IS integrating, is people's are intermingling like is hasn't before during this game.

And this isn't even to get started on the E3 demo of Twilight princess that the trip that Link is supposed to take at the beginning of the game was to be the representative of Ordon at the "Hyrule summit

and Hyrule is described in a VERY specific way

Kingdom of Hyrule and neighboring realms? like theyre all not under the crown? so like???? FUN, that didn't end up making it in the game. the dailouge that is, But the remints is still there in the way the game is made up, like how OoT is built off is civil war bones

actually funny, Navi just got me screenshots of the way the dialouge was changed here

Like stuff clearly changed during the demo and finished game, I should of been touching more on the intricacies of how like shit was just change for no reason sometimes but uh....

But maybe @rawliverandgoronspice would want to one day like about games industry stuff if you ever want to 😭 I know you're super passionate on this and I wish I like even off hand mentioned something about how like TP is also effected by how games are made but I didn't and I'm a fool but games are complicated as hell and that post you made talking a bit about it was fun ya know 👉👈 and the Beta of Tp changes a LOT of stuff, one Rusl really is like a brother to link in the way he messes with him, it actually makes some weird Nintendo licensed shit saying hes like a big brother to Link made WAYYYYY more since with the Beta in mind, but....that also mean they tried to keep the big bro vibes....but then put the dad ones in there too like.....uh...did..someone not change his summary anywhere?

that was my big thing i wanted to talk about, navi's already touched on everything else i just think the parallels here between the Goron quest between OoT and TP changes in such a nice way.

And like this doesn't get into other shit about TP, like if we wanna deep dive into shit ya don't gotta do it by twisting the story, like I was going and talking to @blackautmedia to ask with some help when it came to like.......god idk what i even said anymore i was going a mile a minute. He wants to write his own thing on Twilight princess so im not gonna step on his toes but he has recommended Arabs and Muslims in the Media: Race and Representation after 9/11 by Evelyn Alsultany, the link I provided here is too her website and her page on the book this link here is from her own site that has a pdf of a part American Quarterly with a paper by the same name.

Anyways i wanna reflex for a moment cuz ive been up for hours finishing this because my brain wont stop unless i do. But the thing that by all means started this, was not your reblog linking me and Navi to your essay, or that there is 2 versions i found out where the paper published one had a lot more context to why you wrote your tumblr post the way you did, Navi helped me get the parts that were cut, please realize removing these does not remove the sentiment from the essay, its baked in.

fanfic, its a popular Fan interpretation that there was fighting between the Gerudo and Hylians after Ganondorf was caught trying to take the triforce, but this is not stated to of happened in the lore itself or even has evidence to back it up other then the Implications of Arbiter's grounds theory

UGHHHH AND THIS AGAIN "Twilight Princess Delivers a subtle yet poignant protest against neoliberal discourses of empire reflected in the rhetoric of heroism inform the geopolitical movements of Japan throught the twentieth century"

WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT......

i dont mean this in a stupid ass way, im saying where the hell was about the protest thing, wait i really shouldt take from the published one cuz you actually dumbed down the line for tumblr

anyways again, where, Navi made it clear enough with her own post that, no, the way that Ganondorf is animated has no sympathy for him until the light is literally leaving him. Hell Twilight princess inst very kind to the gerudo either given that the only thing said about them is that they were thieves and nothing more. Like somehow OoT is more empathetic to the Gerudo, it doesn't just call them thieves, it aint great its not even good its just a bad portrayal of a people, and yet somehow OoT is willing to show the Gerudo in a neutral light at points then TP ever did.

but the reason i decided to just throw down a post is cuz i was pissed that you went after Ezlo for reblogging ME and NAVI's posts and purposefully misunderstood their fuckin wind waker post about ZELDA YOUTUBERS

dude you had them getting genuinely harassed by people with 0 reading comprehension that thinks a snarky reply to a tumblr post means its 100% correct. Webbed. Site.

anyways, I hope people don't take this as a right or wrong way to interpret a piece of work, as stated before, I read your essay, navi read your essay, you changed parts of Twilight Princess to get to the conclusion of you paper...And im gonna be real but it's kinda crazy that you're using post colonial melancholia for this when it's got some.....well something like idk i need someone to do a full ass review because there are point where i gently raise an eyebrow im gonna be real. but also like

like how do you read his book and then miss out on this, one of your whole big aruments is that hyrule is stagnate and not multi cultural and i had to grab screenshots and Navi had to get shit from the game.

like damn, do yall ever uh feel a strange sadness when dusk falls? i do. Idk this is one of the first and last times Nintendo ever delt with Ganondorf with some form a sympathy for him, cuz we got the dragon explosion in totk its like oh he's turbo evil now and he exploded you exploded him and yet the Gerudo probably still gotta pay for his shit from a billion years ago anyways idk idk idk pot shots at totk again.

I know you dug around a little for that post, and I understand from the numerous people that dmed me about that, you probably went on making an essay on their post so you could sound smart again.

And to be clear, I was told to drop some shit i was about to say about you because no one wants to start fandom drama, neither do I truly and any jab on the post itself would just be rude. people change and some people only learn to shut the hell up, so we'll keep it at that. I just hope you really don't truly recognize some of these people you started shit with.

So yeah tldr, uh.....idk, im going in for an autism screening in a month

also me watching the ending to windwaker cuz i wanted to say something about stong endings TP fans im sorry But Wind waker's ending hits no matter what best sequal to OoT thats isnt Majora's mask

The History of Light and Shadow

At the end of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf delivers one of his most memorable lines, “The history of light and shadow will be written in blood.” He is not wrong. As the player has witnessed over the course of Link’s adventure, Hyrule is haunted by ruins and ghost towns, a mere shadow of what it once was. The landscape is filled with numerous sites of past violence and empty spaces visibly marked by decay and wasted potential.

When Zelda tells Link and Midna that “these dark times are the result of our deeds,” she is referring to specific historical acts of imperialistic aggression. Hyrule established hegemony over its outlying territories by crushing the rebellions against its advances, but the kingdom has suffered from cultural stagnation as a result. Without the dynamic diversity symbolized by Ganondorf, Hyrule finds itself in economic and political decline, isolated from any contact with the world beyond its shrinking borders.

As a representative of a marginalized group of people who have been attacked and driven from their homes, Ganondorf is a tangible manifestation of the horrors of imperialism. He must be defeated, but doing so does not address the underlying problems that have resulted in Hyrule’s decline. I therefore want to argue that Twilight Princess uses Ganondorf to deliver a subtle yet poignant protest against the discourses of empire reflected by the dualistic “light and shadow” rhetoric of heroism that has resulted in tragedy and regret.

Keep reading

[emilys-bangs]

this celebration thing is so fun and congrats on the followers :) the fluff prompt #62 “it can wait until tomorrow” might be a good emily one. like she puts off work to go have fun w reader or make time for date night or something like that. up to you, love your writing <3

I’m so glad you’re having fun with it! I am too ;) and tysm, hope you like this <3

Join my celebration here

Word count: 0.9k

Emily frowns down at the paperwork littering her desk, a throbbing headache clawing its way to her temples. Her pen is held loosely in her hand as she gives herself a small break from writing, her fingers cramped and aching.

She has yet to get used to this part of the job.

If she can focus on anything other than the infuriating red tape she’s trying to work her way through, she’d notice the way her shoulders are tense, the ache in her lower back from sitting too long.

As it is, she doesn’t notice these things. Not until a knock sounds on the door and she looks up, finding you just across the threshold of her office.

“Hi,” you smile, beautiful if a little hesitant—it couldn’t be at disturbing her, could it? You do it all the time.

Then her gaze dips down to your outfit, fancy and way too nice for the bullpen, and the realization dawns with a click.

Emily stands up, the pen falling from her hand and thudding onto the desk. “I’m so sorry, it slipped from my mind.” She blurts, and the brief worry on your face smooths out as you smile and cross the floor of her office.

“It’s okay, pretty,” you hum as you reach her, leaning over her desk to steal a kiss. Emily’s cheeks heat at the title, dropping so lovingly from your mouth even when your planned date night slipped from her mind.

“It’s not,” she murmurs, her words muffled against your lips. Her hand travels to your waist and she squeezes lightly, “Just give me a minute, I’ll pack up and we can go.”

You were supposed to go have dinner—location unknown, a precaution that you had started taking after one too many dates had been canceled in favor of a case—about, Emily looks down at her watch, half an hour ago. Darkness presses itself against her office windows, the cotton candy pink of the sunset long gone while she labored away at her desk.

“We don’t have to,” you say, still holding on to her. That in itself tells her your words are less than genuine, even without hearing the slight uncertainty to your voice. It’s been too long since the two of you went out. “If you’re busy.”

“I’m not.” Emily lies. The mountain of paperwork behind her betrays her, but it’s something that can wait, damn it, and she’s not going to postpone another date night if she can help it. “Just give me a minute.” She repeats.

She barely lets go of you before you’re protesting. “Emily, it’s fine,” a frown draws your brows together as you peer over her shoulder, “that stack looks awful, I wouldn’t want it to pile up on you even more—”

Emily takes your hand off her waist and brushes her lips along your knuckles, promptly shutting you up. Her fingers curl around yours as your mouth audibly snaps shut, a hitch in your breath that she’s too close not to hear.

“It can wait until tomorrow.” Emily insists, her voice purposely low and soft; smoky, like the warm remnants of a bonfire, but also firm in the way she’s learned to be since becoming Unit Chief.

Stubborn as ever, you still try to persist. “But—”

“Hey, hey, I’m the boss.” Emily interrupts. She has half a mind to kiss you brainless, just to slow down that mouth of yours. 

On second thought—

Emily gently pinches your chin and brings you closer, until your lips meet hers. The fight audibly leaks out of you as you sigh into her mouth and melt into her, your hands digging into her waist. The feeling is heavenly, reminding Emily just what exactly she’s fighting you so hard for. A matching sigh leaves her lips; it echoes in the space between your bodies.

Before she can get too carried away, Emily leans back. “And the boss commands you to take her out,” she cups your face, gently nuzzling her nose against yours.

Your bottom lip slides between your teeth. “I’m not sure if you know, but I take my boss’ orders very seriously.” She loves the way you’re a little breathless, inhaling and exhaling in soft pants against her lips.

Emily winks, spidery lashes kissing her cheek. “I was counting on that.”

Your face lights up as you grin. You start backing away, but your hand links insistently with hers, pulling her with you. “And you know how I hate to disappoint you, Chief,” you tug impatiently as Emily resists the pull to pocket her phone, a low chuckle leaving her mouth.

“Just a second, my love. You’re so impatient.” She tsks, letting your arms pull taught as she shuffles the rest of her scattered paperwork in a pile—one handed, because apparently there’s glue smeared between your palm and hers.

You let out an indignant sound and the tension between your locked hands loosens as you let go. Emily frowns, but a second later you tackle her from behind, your arms wrapping around her neck. 

“Take that back!”

The sound of your intertwined laughter spills out of her office and down the stairs. Soon later the shadows of your retreating forms follow across the dim bullpen as she pulls you out, eager for a night of bliss spent with you.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[airenyah]

Episode 6: FadelStyle vs. Beginnings and Endings

In the past one and a half-ish weeks we've discussed at length just how good the last scene at the diner is and how Style drawing tears on Fadel at the rock concert was foreshadowing to Fadel ending the episode crying real tears. What I haven't seen discussed yet, however, is how that ending scene is actually a counterpart to Fadel and Style's conversation after the rock concert. And I think that makes the scene in the diner even more poignant. And it also makes the scene at the rock pub even more painful as well. Because they are basically the same scenes, just flipped. And I desperately need to talk about it or else I'll explode.

Part 1: "Tonight I am very happy"

In this scene Style knows something that Fadel doesn't: This will most likely be their last chance to be happy together like this. Tomorrow Fadel will go on his mission where the police will be waiting and then Fadel will be taken away from him.

But Style already loves Fadel, he is already worried about him and he really does not want to lose him. So he keeps trying to subtly talk Fadel into staying home from the mission and spilling the beans about the mission so he can explicitly ask Fadel not to go. But Fadel keeps his mouth shut. And as happy as Style is together with Fadel this evening, he is also very upset. He doesn't want the night to end, but there's no way around it. For Style this is a goodbye.

And for Fadel? Fadel went from I'll tell her this will be your last job to Ruerat is the last jerk we have to kill. After that, we can live however we want. Even in this episode, right before he goes to the concert with Style, Fadel tells Bison "Once we’re done with Ruerat, I’ll talk to Mother again", when Bison says it's time for them to quit. Fadel is on the same page as Bison now. Ruerat is their last victim and after that Fadel wants out. For Fadel, this is the last night where he's still stuck in his hitman life, but once he is done with his mission the weight will be off his shoulders and he can finally truly be with Style. For Fadel this is the opposite of a goodbye.

In the words of my mother: For Style, when the night is over life will end. For Fadel, when the night is over life will begin. Style is ending something and Fadel wants to begin something.

And another thing my mom pointed out is how they're standing in front of a pink sky:

And at what time of the day is the sky pink? Either at dawn or at dusk. The beginning of the day or the end of the day. And for Fadel this scene is only the beginning of the day while for Style this scene is the end of the day.

Part 2: "I think I already love you"

In this scene Fadel knows something that Style doesn't: Style has played him, has made him lower his protective walls, has made him fall for him only to turn around and betray him.

Style told Fadel he hoped that Fadel wouldn't get any more scars and yet here Style is, stabbing Fadel right in the heart and jeopardizing his life. Here Style is, bursting Fadel's bubble that he's finally started daring to dream about, a dream of a future where he wasn't lonely, a future where he was happy and himself with someone, Style, by his side. Style is a danger to him. Style can't stay. As happy as Fadel has been together with Style, he needs to let go of him. For Fadel this is a goodbye.

And for Style? He has just spent a full week worrying sick about Fadel after his mission went wrong and went completely MIA. Style has likely (definitely) spent a week checking the restaurant every single day for any sign of Fadel's return, not giving up hope of seeing him again. And then Fadel is back. Style is overjoyed. The heavy metal concert wasn't their last day together, Fadel is pulling through on his promise to have many more nights like that with each other. The concert may have been the end of the day, but now against all odds a new day has come. For Style this is the opposite of a goodbye.

And so we're left with the exact opposite situation from what we had at the concert: Fadel is ending something and Style wants to begin something.

Conclusion

These two scenes go together, they're flipped parallels of each other.

At the concert Style is internally saying goodbye to Fadel because he thinks their relationship will be over when Fadel gets arrested at the mission and the police take him away. At the diner Fadel is internally saying goodbye to Style because he thinks their relationship is over now that he "knows" that none of it was real on Style's part since in reality he was working with said police.

At the concert Fadel is truly happy, because once his mission is over he'll talk to mother and when he's managed to convince her that him and Bison will be out, then Fadel can go and start a new life, a new future with Style. At the diner Style is overjoyed because he thought he was about to lose Fadel, but Fadel has come back and now Style gets a second chance at a future with Fadel.

At the concert, Fadel is happy and he can tell something is kinda off about Style ("What's wrong? You act like we’re not going to see each other again."), but he has absolutely no idea that Style is in the process of bidding him farewell. At the diner, Style is happy and he can tell something is kinda off about Fadel ("You were just calling me out for being affectionate. Now you wanna be romantic?"), but he has absolutely no idea that Fadel is in the process of bidding him farewell.

It's brilliant writing, really. And both scenes are flawlessly performed by both boys.

[thehungergamesrenaissance]

I am so sorry for the person I will become in March. PEOPLE magazine released an excerpt from chapter one of Sunrise on the Reaping. Read below

-

“Happy birthday, Haymitch!” 

The upside of being born on reaping day is that you can sleep late on your birthday. It’s pretty much downhill from there. A day off school hardly compensates for the terror of the name drawing. Even if you survive that, nobody feels like having cake after watching two kids being hauled off to the Capitol for slaughter. I roll over and pull the sheet over my head. 

“Happy birthday!” My 10-year-old brother, Sid, gives my shoulder a shake. “You said be your rooster. You said you wanted to get to the woods at daylight.” 

It’s true. I’m hoping to finish my work before the ceremony so I can devote the afternoon to the two things I love best — wasting time and being with my girl, Lenore Dove. My ma makes indulging in either of these a challenge, since she regularly announces that no job is too hard or dirty or tricky for me, and even the poorest people can scrape up a few pennies to dump their misery on somebody else. But given the dual occasions of the day, I think she’ll allow for a bit of freedom as long as my work is done. It’s the Gamemakers who might ruin my plans. 

“Haymitch!” wails Sid. “The sun’s coming up!” 

“All right, all right. I’m up, too.” I roll straight off the mattress onto the floor and pull on a pair of shorts made from a government-issued flour sack. The words "courtesy of the Capitol" end up stamped across my butt. My ma wastes nothing. Widowed young when my pa died in a coal mine fire, she’s raised Sid and me by taking in laundry and making every bit of anything count. The hardwood ashes in the fire pit are saved for lye soap. Eggshells get ground up to fertilize the garden. Someday these shorts will be torn into strips and woven into a rug. 

I finish dressing and toss Sid back in his bed, where he burrows right down in the patchwork quilt. In the kitchen, I grab a piece of corn bread, an upgrade for my birthday instead of the gritty, dark stuff made from the Capitol flour. Out back, my ma’s already stirring a steaming kettle of clothes with a stick, her muscles straining as she flips a pair of miner’s overalls. She’s only 35, but life’s sorrows have already cut lines into her face, like they do. 

Ma catches sight of me in the doorway and wipes her brow. “Happy 16th. Sauce on the stove.” 

“Thanks, Ma.” I find a saucepan of stewed plums and scoop some on my bread before I head out. I found these in the woods the other day, but it’s a nice surprise to have them all hot and sugared. “Need you to fill the cistern today,” Ma says as I pass. 

We’ve got cold running water, only it comes out in a thin stream that would take an age to fill a bucket. There’s a special barrel of pure rainwater she charges extra for because the clothes come out softer, but she uses our well water for most of the laundry. What with pumping and hauling, filling the cistern’s a two-hour job even with Sid’s help. 

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” I ask. 

“I’m running low and I’ve got a mountain of wash to do,” she answers. 

"This afternoon, then,” I say, trying to hide my frustration. If the reaping’s done by one, and assuming we’re not part of this year’s sacrifice, I can finish the water by three and still see Lenore Dove.

A blanket of mist wraps protectively around the worn, gray houses of the Seam. It would be soothing if it wasn’t for the scattered cries of children being chased in their dreams. In the last few weeks, as the Fiftieth Hunger Games has drawn closer, these sounds have become more frequent, much like the anxious thoughts I work hard to keep at bay. The second Quarter Quell. Twice as many kids. No point in worrying, I tell myself, there’s nothing you can do about it. Like two Hunger Games in one. No way to control the outcome of the reaping or what follows it. So don’t feed the nightmares. Don’t let yourself panic. Don’t give the Capitol that. They’ve taken enough already.

[yelenasdiary]

Hey what about Professor Wanda and student R and her punishing R for purposely not doing well in her class and she makes her recite an entire poem while she fucks R👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Word for Word

Pairing: Professor! Wanda Maximoff x Student! Reader 

Summary: After not paying attention in class, your professor asks you to stay behind for a little chat. 

Smut | Abuse of Power | Legal Age Gap | Language Warning | Strap on Use (Reader receiving) | Fingering (Reader receiving) | Top! Wanda | Bottom! Reader | Slight Degradation | Mention of Safe Words | 2.3K | 18 + Minors DN!! |

AC: I actually don’t know any poems if I am being honest, I actually used a couple of the poems for this! I hope you enjoy x

"Y/n, can I see you after class please? We need to have a little chat" your professor looked sternly at you as the rest of your classmates rose from their seats and began to make their way out of the room. You sighed and rolled your eyes at the woman who stood tall with confidence at the front of the room. Your plan was working, you finally got the teacher to snap. For weeks, you've been showing little to no interest or attention to the new unit in your literature class. 

It's not that you don't take your studies seriously but when you noticed the way you couldn't stop thinking about your professor in a very, very inappropriate way, you couldn't stop yourself from seeing how far you could get before getting some alone time with the woman. 

"What's the issue now?" you asked in a huff once everybody had left the room. Wanda tilted her head at you as she walked over to your desk, "the issue is your failing my class" she replied in a stern voice. "So? maybe if you taught something interesting, I'd be interested enough to want to learn something" you snapped with a light smirk on your lips. Wanda ignored your smart-arse reply and wandered over towards the classroom door, locking it before you had a chance to say another word. 

"You're not leaving this room until you've recited every poem, we've spoken about in the two weeks" your professor broke the silence as she walked back to her desk at the front of the room. 

"What makes you think I'm going to do that?" you chuckled as you stood up, throwing your back bag over your shoulder. 

"Because you'll do anything I saw when I'm done with you" her words caught your attention as you looked at her, she reached down to her lower draw and pulled out a dark red dildo already attached to a black harness. You stood in shock, not thinking your plan would actually work but you enjoyed messing with her. "What? You think I haven't seen the way you act around me? The short skirts you've been wearing, letting me see the piece of thread you wear as panties?" she added with a raised brow. 

Your eyes looked to the toy that now sat a little too proudly on her desk and you could already tell from the size of it that it was bigger than anything you've used before. "I've tried many different ways to get you to pay attention in my classes, but it seems that your mind is full of dirty thoughts, I shouldn't expect better from a whore. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two with your mouth full" Wanda stepped in front of her desk, tilting her head at you once more. "Come here" she spoke. You didn't hesitate to throw your bag to the floor and walk towards your professor. You looked at her with need, but she only shook her head at you, "so you do listen to instructions, good. Strip" she spoke sternly once again. 

The tone in her voice only sent a throb to your core as you began to undress yourself for the professor, she watched you, taking in every single inch of your bare skin as her eyes fed on your naked body. "On my desk with your legs spread. We don't have much time; you have a test for tomorrow's lesson, and you have a lot to learn!" Wanda spoke and you could've sworn you saw a faint smirk tugging at her lips before you sat yourself up on her desk, spreading your legs to give her a clear view of your already wet and needy pussy. 

"What would you like me to start reciting?" you asked as you watched Wanda walk towards you. Her eyes never left yours as she came in contact with you, running her hands gently up and down your thighs just to watch your cunt clench with need as her hands came closer to where you've been so desperate for her. "What's your safe word?" she asked, ignoring your question. You looked at her while he hands inched closer and closer to your pussy, "M-mango" you replied in a stutter when the woman ran her fingers over your slit. 

"Adorable" she smiled softly, "recite The Sick Rose, without mistakes" Wanda added as she ran her fingers between your folds. Her touch was enough to make you close your eyes with pleasure, wanting to moan whenever she brushed over your clit. Wanda teased you until she was satisfied you were ready to take her fingers. 

"Go on baby, this is what you wanted, isn't it?" she looked up at you as she slid two fingers into your pussy, using your own slick for an easy entrance. 

"O R-rose thou a-art sick" you spoke, letting a moan or two slip as your professor buried her fingers deep inside you, "Keep going, ignore me. I'm just going to play with you for a while" she smirked knowing she had you melting in her hands.

"The invisible worm" you went on, letting your eyes close as Wanda began thrusting her fingers in and out of you. "That flies in th- more!" you broke, throwing your head back and pushing yourself more onto her fingers. Wanda stopped instantly, "I told you no mistakes! Start again" she looked at you, "the longer you play around baby, the longer you'll be waiting" she added as she looked over to the red dildo sitting beside you. 

You nodded, "s-sorry miss" you moaned when she returned to thrusting her fingers deep inside you. "O Rose t-thou art sick. That flies in the night, In the h-howling storm:" with every word, Wanda sped up. Her free hand kept your hips still from thrusting yourself more on her fingers as you chased your building orgasm. "Has f-found out thy bed, of crimson j-joy:" your moans were beginning to make their own decisions causing you to take a few short seconds to get yourself together, trying your best not to stuff up the poem for a second time as Wanda curled her fingers inside you. 

"I didn't say stop, did I?" Wanda looked up at you as she thrusted her fingers as deep as they could possibly go. "And his d-dark secret l-love, does thy life d-destroy!" you completed the poem with a loud moan, throwing your head back once more when you felt your professor slide a third finger inside you. "M-miss! Please!" You begged, knowing your orgasm was balancing on the edge. 

Wanda smirked, "do you want to cum baby?" she asked. You nodded instantly with need, with want. "Please! P-please can I cum?!" You moaned once more. 

"Who's the poem by baby? Tell me who wrote it and when and I'll let you cum" 

The last thing your mind was thinking about was who wrote the poem, let alone when it was published but the need for release was growing stronger with every thrust from the professor. "W-William Blake!" you moaned in an almost scream, "1794!" you added. 

"So you do listen, go on darling, cum!" Wanda instructed, finally something you didn't have to rack your brain to think about. You came hard around her fingers; she slowed her pace down to allow you to ride out your first orgasm. A proud smile tugged at the woman's lips when she slowly pulled her fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to her lips and sucking them clean while never breaking the eye contact she shared with you. 

"So sweet" she hummed at your sweetness on her tongue before she reached for the strap on and harness. While you gathered yourself and recovered from your high, Wanda striped herself of her clothing and attached the harness to her waist, "now let's see how well you can listen" her eyes hinted for you to get on your knees. 

Wanda ran her fingers through your hair as you looked up at her, the red toy in your face just waiting to meet the back of your throat. "You're too pretty to be playing these stupid little games darling" she spoke, "if you wanted me to ruin you, all you had to was ask nicely" she added before running the tip of the toy over your lips, "open up baby, it's time for your second lesson" she smirked as you opened your mouth, welcoming the toy as she guided it into your mouth. 

You treated the toy as if it was real, doing everything you'd seen in videos, gagging and making a mess of the toy with your salvia while Wanda read multiple poems along with the author and published dates. Poems from Emily Dickinson, John Keats and Lord Byron where not bedded into your brain while Wanda used your mouth to prepare the toy for you ever growing wet pussy. 

Wanda stopped you and removed the toy from your mouth and a soft and proud smile, "it's a shame I can't have your mouth looking this pretty in class, maybe you'd learn a lot more" she guided you back to your feet before crashing her lips onto yours, smiling against them knowing she now had her own perfect toy to use whenever she wanted, however she wanted. 

"Next you'll recite Wild Nights by Emily Dickinson. No mistakes and no pauses and no moaning or you'll start everything that we've learnt so far" Wanda gently placed you back on her desk on your back, kindly spreading your legs for her to run the tip of her toy through your slick folds. "Word for word" she added as she guided the toy into your already clenching pussy. 

You gripped the edge of your professor's desk to keep yourself from moaning her name at the way she stretched you out, bottoming out as her thumb drew light circles around your clit just to add to your pleasure. "Wild Nights! Wild Nights!" You started, hoping you weren't too loud but nodding at the same time, letting Wanda know it was okay for her to start moving. "Were I with thee, w-wild nights should be" you went on, fighting every need of yourself to moan while your knuckles turned white.

 "Wild Nights should be, 

Our luxury!

Futile the winds

To a heart in port—"

With every word, Wanda thrusted deeper into you, the room full with a mix of your words and the sound of her thighs slapping against your skin. Your head thrown back on the hard desk as your professor had her way with you, pounding into you, giving you more than you thought she could ever give. For weeks of teasing her and trying to get her to snap, this is exactly how you wanted her to take you, if not, even better than you thought. 

"Done with the compass, done with the chart!" You went on. 

"You're taking me so well baby, keep going, I know you're close" Wanda couldn't help herself as she lent down and planted kisses on your neck, careful not to leave a mark. One hand on your left hip while her other hand worked your clit with tight circles, driving you crazy. 

"Rowing in Eden!

Ah! the sea!

Might I but moor

To-night in thee!" You finished with great struggle but when you looked at Wanda she smiled softly, "good job baby, now just lay there and look pretty while I play with you" she placed a hand over one of your hands that gripped her desk with all your might before she kissed your neck once more, "let it out darling, tell me how good I make you feel" she whispered. You moaned, finally! Feeling the way Wanda slid in and out of you with such ease and now being able to vocal show her just how good she truly was making you feel pushed you to the edge. 

"Gonna cum!!" you moaned, wrapping your legs around Wanda's waist to keep her in place as she continued to pound into you. "Yeah? Do you think you deserve it? Are you going to start listening and paying attention in my classes more?" She looked at you with a raised brow, thrusting into you harder if that were even possible. 

"Y-yes! I promise! God, p-please!" You begged in a loud moan. 

"Yes, Miss Maximoff!" Wanda looked you directly in your eyes, secretly she loved when you called her in such a formal matter. 

"Y-yes M-miss Maximoff!" you moaned once more, gripping your professor's arms unaware of how harshly you were digging your nails into her skin. "Cum for my baby, I've got you" Wanda instructed, finally letting you break as you moaned her name once more as you came all over her toy. Wanda lent down, wrapped her arms around you before pulling up into her chest, gently stroking your naked back as your orgasm took you to a place you never thought was possible. 

"You did so good, baby, I've got you" she whispered as you began to come down form your high, clinging to her from your fucked out state. Wanda gently removed herself from inside of you, reaching for the box of tissues that sat on her desk and using them to gently clean you up. 

Moments passed before you began to start dressing yourself, as did Wanda. "If you pass tomorrows test, we'll have another chat" Wanda spoke as she turned to face you. A soft smile tugged at your lips, "and what if I do?" you asked. 

"Don't play games sweetheart, not ones you will lose at anyways" Your professor replied, handing you a practice quiz sheet, "go home and study" she added. 

You left the room that day already thinking of other ways to earn yourself a little after class chat from your literature professor.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz  | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @observeowl | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @wandsmxmff | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @lizzieslcver | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @marvel-madnessx | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @natashaswife4125 | @katiemay-025 | @aphrcdtes | @romanoffs-widow | @maria-403 | 

If you wanted to be removed from the taglist for smut related fics, please let me know x

[wardingshout]

Since I didn't draw anything for like half of 2024 I did an updated colour wheel instead! featuring only the newest of stuff I could find that fit.

I have also compiled a dump of many thoughts I want out of my head, like a little text post dump I guess. the tldr I guess I will just make "thank you".

Putting the most important thing first here which is. Every single time I catch myself thinking "no I need to draw smth other than alttp" a couple of very specific tags and messages pop into my head and I get so fired up to draw more alttp !!! the power I feel from that!!!!!

IIIIII feel like there used to be a way to do linebreaks but I can't remember how so my new text bit divider is random crap I can find lying around in my files

Ok here goes me being dramatic about something that only matters to me but feels so very important to get out for the sake of others too. I guess the gist of it is that tumblr is a rly important place to me and I'm so endlessly grateful for people always being so nice. at the end of the day I don't think I really care about much else in life than drawing and getting to share it with others makes it a much less lonely experience for me. I mostly just for myself, but I'm so grateful for the extra joy associated with posting it online too.

I feel a bit bad I can never seem to give back the kind of nice energy you guys give me. despite how much joy this place brings me, I'm just a naturally anxious person and I often chicken out of doing things myself. I'm so endlessly happy that people still bear with me or at least stick around to look at my art.

thanks to people's kindness I often find myself breaking out of the anxiety and getting a lot closer to initiating stuff myself, but I always get run over by some kind of irl issue instead, usually mental, but recently also physical health. I had so much fun on here this summer especially and I was so certain that this was the time I would make it last only for irl stuff to yet again show up and knock me out completely. every time that happens I feel like I have to rebuild whatever social bravery I had aquired from the beginning again and at this rate I won't ever get anywhere.

after weeks of very few work days, I feel like I'm finally rebuilding the courage to post and the concentration to manage drawing at all. it's not a lot of progress but I can feel it growing. from tomorrow it's back to full time work with no other breaks in sight and I'm scared my groove will be cut short already... I like my job but I've acknowledged I just can't thrive with full time work. I can bear it fine though, but it doesn't leave energy for much else in life.

I think the point here is. I know it's just social media but I've had so many good experiences on here and they're really precious to me. I hope one day I can be well enough to be that kind of influence for others too. my activity with art and presence online has become surprisingly reflective of how well or bad I'm doing irl, so I never I never want to give up on become a more present person.

the most important thing is art though, so finding the courage to get back to posting even if it's all I do, makes me happy too. thank you so much to everyone else who posts are too. I'm endlessly excited about all the cool things I get to experience and see online, thank you!

it is absolutely absurd how many drafts I have of just very frustrated moments where literally all I type is "if I have to be sick one more time I will lose my absolute mind holy shit" and having just been sick again? really feeling that !!!! it's also like. frustrating to feel you're making progress mentally and then you constantly get knocked into bed by phsyical health instead like come on I'm finally learning how to get Out of that place... and then every time you get sick, routunes have to be rebuild all over after, it suuuuucks....

I finally got a PC which has been absolutely life saving, However. I am still drawing on tegaki only... I'm so excited I can get back to bigger works on csp but I've gotten so used to seeing only my tegaki stuff, I'm scared of how much I'll suddenly hate my art when I see it differently again... hating your own art is probably a feeling that will never disappear but even so. I think I'm at a pretty content place right now and I'm worried about shaking it up. I can't let something like that knock me down when I'm only finally getting back to drawing regularly again... I already copied over the palette for some comfort so hopefully I can find a brush that feels similar too! at least I'm super excited about getting to pick some more colours !

and a very belated tag game thing !! I completely lost the original post by now but it was from @lele5429 and I've had it in my drafts this whole time, so better late than never to fill it out!

Last song: Alt Hvad Jeg Vil by Von Quar

Fav colours: warm yellows or light oranges!

Last book: switching between Assassin's Quest and Our Wives Under The Sea!

Last movie: The Princess Bride I think?? it was long ago so I feel like I'm forgetting something else though...

Last tv show: my roomie and I binged Twin Peaks season 3 as well as most of True Detective over christmas break we went Ham

Sweet/spicy/savoury: sweet !!

Relationship status: not interested

Last thing I googled: "nosferatu rats"... I see.....

Current obsession: alttp auish shenanigans... this one has not changed since I first drafted my response to this... on one hand I feel like I'm just filling out the gaps between games, but on the other it's getting very close to full au stuff... I always wanted to draw comics but had no ideas and for the first time in my life I'm drowning in ideas and fully held back by fear and skills haha

Looking forward to: actually surprisingly nothing at all? I'm looking forward to whatever good times I can create for myself I guess. the last few things I was looking forward to didn't go so well, so maybe it's nice to have nothing but the most normal and boring daily life ahead haha

[piyo13sdoodles]

day 28, chapter 76:

At the expression on Quintus' face Cliopher could take no more. He started laughing before he made it out of the room, though the loudest whoops came after he'd reached the hallway. He did not get far along, just sank down at the top of the stairs so he could try to muffle his mirth with his hands. ~ "Your family seems somewhat perturbed," Rhodin observed after a few minutes.

and bonus gallery shot + musings under the cut because it's been exactly 4 weeks now:

fun to see what kinds of patterns intentionally or unintentionally crop up... or also which days i can tell i was busy vs which days i had time or worked in advance to dedicate more time to the piece. if anyone's curious, on average one of these might take me 2-3 hours to complete! more detailed ones like october 23 i think probably took me closer to 5 hours, simpler ones like october 9 maybe 1.5h.

i am both sad and glad it's almost over--i've definitely lost a fair amount of sleep trying to get these done in time (usually i work a day ahead so i can post at a reasonable time, but that hasn't always worked out, especially in the final stretch here), so this pace does become untenable on top of work, but it also is really fun to make so much art! and to always have something to work on rather than becoming trapped into that idea of 'what should i do, too many choices, can't decide..' the answer is always inktober!

in any case, seeing the gallery like this is also interesting to me because it really helps me realize where i could have/should have pushed the ink a bit more--working in ink is (to me; this is definitely not gospel, just how i consider ink work) an exercise in controlling contrast. you don't have colour to drive edges or cool/warm tones, so the only value you have is the light-dark contrast, and in my mind at least, good use of contrast should carry across to a smaller format. for example, zoomed out like this i can see that october 11th really needed more contrast in the feathers--they blend too much into the background in a way that doesn't really work to emphasize that ludvic is standing in front of the candles there. otoh, on october 5, i think that one's fine because what i wanted was for the moon to draw the eye first, and THEN for you to notice HR sitting there.

overall, also, i want to keep these interesting--if the compositions are always the same, then it can become repetitive or boring, so i wanted a good mix of light and dark compositions, and a good balance of tone across all of them. which so far i'm pleased with! and this year i let myself use pencil undersketches and do thumbnail planning and everything (last year i really wanted to get better at visualizing the piece in my head so i set the challenge of just committing straight to paper... i'm still happy with last year's but you can tell i took on much more challenging compositions this year lol)

anyway!! much to think about, so much to learn, i wanted to work a bit in advance again so i won't be putting tomorrow's up almost at midnight again but alas i think it was not meant to be, so i'm off to bed and if you read this whole thing, congrats, have a cookie *hands you a cookie*

[quinnonimp]

We Watch the Clouds & Stars: an OriginsSMP TNTduo Comic ☁️💫 | Anecdote: Awake or Alive [part 1/?]

content warning: discussion of death and afterlife

read left to right

NEXT

hello !!!!!!!!! im back on the grid again and with a bang, here to deliver a comic ive been working on since september ! its gonna be pretty messy, inconsistent, and just purely me having fun . therell be a lot of things ive thought through thoroughly, and therell be some things i forgot to even existed ! all in all this is a comic about a character whos been gone for a year and one that doesnt even exist, so its all built from me being silly

there will be sensitive topics discussed or depicted ! those will have a warning placed beforehand for each update, even though many of these things are meant to be up to interpretation or implied . some anecdotes ive written have been quite heavy though, so if i end up finishing them, listen to the content warnings

this will be a non-linear story, so instead of chapters i have named them anecdotes . they will be moreso bits and pieces of my o!quackity and o!wilbur's lives, specifically of them together, so some parts will be before or after others . some parts will reference each other, or foreshadow, but u likely wont need to read the anecdotes in any specific order

^ and so, because of this, the dynamics of wwtc&s!tntduo will change and will be inconsistent, just as what happens with real people if u look into random pockets of their life . some anecdotes theyll be more comfortable with each other, some theyll be more spiteful, some theyll be more awkward, etc. especially since oquackity has no character and owilbur is underdeveloped

this comic is a lot about change but also keeping familiarity in said change, which is totally not just an excuse for my inconsistent ass nope nuh-nuh. this time its actually relevant to the characters !!!!

and YEAH . i am doing all this just bc cc!quackity mentioned in the 2021 wine stream that he was in the originssmp discord and wanted to actually play but never did . im still mad abt it so ive decided to just make shit up now 👍

by the way !!!!!!!!! the big wings wilbur has on the cover r actually not canon anymore . Lol . i drew that before i had a more concrete idea of the comic and its concepts, but i really didnt feel like editing it (the tail is also missing), so i kept it cause idrc FDKDFKJ

i may draw him with wings again sometime just bc i really like it, but for the sake of story - know that theyre not canon, and that his cloak compensates for his lack of wings

there is likely more for me to explain, but rn im all over the place so i dont really remember what ! the next part will probs be up tomorrow or so, im not sure . really hope u guys enjoy

[french-unknown]

Hiii!!!

Can you please write something about a reader who wants to get self-improved?

What I am trying to say is, the reader is kinda of lazy and all they do is sleep, eat, and read. Neglecting studies and being unproductive.

But they want to change. They tried so many times, but they became their previous self again after 2 or 3 days.

Can you please write something like Law, Shanks, Mihawk, and Ace to help them to become their best self?

Like you know motivational and inspiring thing...

I don't know if you can understand this. English is not my mother language. So it's so hard to explain. Sorry about that.

Thank you so much for writing.

With lots of love...❤️❤️❤️

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: law, shanks, mihawk, ace 𝐂/𝐖: fluff 𝐀/𝐍: Hi! Thank you very much for appreciating what I wrote and don't worry about your request, I understood. I hope you will like it and have a nice day! (｡◝‿◜｡) 𝐖/𝐂: 1.2k +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐋𝐀𝐖

✧ You had been locked in your room for several weeks and you didn't want to come out. You didn't want to see people. You didn't want to listen to them. You didn't want to talk to them.

✧ You just wanted to spend your days alone in your blankets reading quietly with Law visiting in the evening to sleep.

✧ Everyone outside, even your friends, bored you: their conversations didn't interest you and their reactions annoyed you. Besides, you didn't see what you could talk to them about and, even when you tried, you were cut off. this invisibilization irritated you so much that you ended up not saying a word, plunging yourself even deeper into your boredom, and no longer coming.

✧ You had tried several times to come back to them but your interactions turned on you more and more until the arrival of the Straw Hats who had finished isolating you for good.

Their captain who shouted everywhere and ruined your peace. Their swordsman who turned on his heel in the middle of your sentence when you tried to talk to him. Or their navigator who had cut you off to call out to Shachi who was passing behind you with his winnings from his bets with the crew.

✧ You hadn't left your room since.

✧ Law didn't see your isolation in a good light so, given that you were only reading and your reading stock was dwindling, he mentioned the very well-stocked library of the Straw Hats. Innocently, of course.

✧ He arranged for the Straw Hats to start a party before you could get out. Not wanting to get stuck in the hubbub on your way back to your room, you decided to stay reading in the Sunny Library until the crowd dispersed. Law sent Robin to the library to read her book.

✧ You came home the next morning to talk to Law about the archaeologist who was nice and whose invitation you thought you would accept to meet up to read together. He just calmy replied: “Cool” even though he was very satisfied inside to see you regaining confidence in socialization.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

✧ You didn't have the motivation to do anything to advance your goals. You always pushed everything aside with an "I'll do it later" to continue reading until you found yourself in the evening and said to yourself "It's too late to start, I'll do it tomorrow".

✧ It was like this every day.

✧ One morning, Shanks came into your room humming after you went back. He approached you under your suspicious gaze and took your book from your hands before going to the window and casually throwing your book into the water over his shoulder.

You could have ripped him alive just for that.

✧ However, he took out an old crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket with a quill already inked on it and wrote your objective in large letters at the top of the page. Then he spent the rest of the morning with you on the bed figuring out all the steps to take before reaching your goal. He embellished the page with little drawings here and there to make it more “cool”.

✧ He called himself "the Emperor of the to-do list" throughout.

✧ The next day, you did one of the tasks on the list because it didn't take much time / effort and you could do it from your bed. You simply checked it off and, when Shanks came back in the evening, you showed him.

✧ Every time you checked a box, he showered you with a shower of congratulations as well as special drinking parties to celebrate your accomplishment.

✧ The whole crew also ended up getting involved and they all encouraged you in their own way.

𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊

✧ He was genuinely starting to worry about you: you didn't want to go out anymore and it had been weeks since you had seen the light of day.

No matter what he does, you always return to your bed after stocking up on food in the middle of the night in the castle kitchen. You stay all day under your covers. You would refuse his invitations every time he offered to accompany him outside the castle or during his missions outside Kuraigana. You always justified that you were more comfortable in your bed and that you didn't see the point in going out.

✧ He ironically thought that he was the one called a vampire.

✧ Finally, he got fed up. He waited for you in the kitchen during the night and started talking to you for a long time. You find his behavior quite strange but you keep talking, hoping that he will make fewer remarks to you later about the fact that you always stay locked in your bedroom.

However, when you opened the door to your room to finally snuggle into your soft pillows and blankets, you noticed that your bed was gone. Your bed was missing. You tried all the rooms in the castle but all the beds had disappeared. As well as all the pillows and blankets. There were none left in the entire castle.

✧ He then guided you towards Hitsugibune where his usual seat had been replaced by your blankets and pillows. You were shocked while he gave you the choice between staying on the island and sleeping on the cold stone floor or boarding with him and sleeping in comfortable bedding.

After toying with the idea of sleeping on the cold castle floor just to annoy him, you finally agree to go on his boat.

✧ After a few weeks of traveling, you realize that getting out of bed was the best solution because your days were no longer an endless blur. They no longer paraded at full speed without your having the slightest memory of them.

𝐀𝐂𝐄

✧ You wanted to start sport but you couldn't stay regular.

✧ You could tell yourself all the benefits it would give you (post-session well-being with endorphins, being more active in everyday life, more energy etc.) but you couldn't do it. Even motivational phrases like “the hardest part is to begin!” only made you feel even more depressed when you found yourself hopelessly in sportswear in your bed.

✧ You motivated yourself to do a week then you missed a session because you had aches. And another because you were tired. Then another one because you were lazy and, at rhis point, it wouldn't make a difference.

And you always ended up stopping.

✧ But Ace wanted to help you so he offered to accompany him on his next mission. You never refused to spend more time with him so you agreed.

✧ However, this trip as a couple was very different from the previous ones where you made all your trips at sea with his striker and those on land with the island's transport.

✧ This time, you did everything by yourself.

You paddled on the Grand Line while Ace helped you while telling you about his fights with Sea Kings. You hiked from one town to another while arguing with your idiot lover who had forgotten to take money for transportation. You climbed mountains hand in hand with him as you chatted happily.

✧ Finally, you got a taste for these privileged private moments with your boyfriend. They provided you with enough physical exercises to satisfy you without constraining you and you no longer felt the duty to do these sessions alone.

Congratulations, you found my 3rd Easter Egg Here a ʚ 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 ɞ as a token of my admiration

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @xomingyu @dozcan123 @kai-wifey

[lenacosse]

hi! could you maybe write a oneshot that’s amy santiago x fem reader, fluffy/romantic/friends to lovers? i just got into this show and i really wanna read a good and short fic about her but i can’t find many.

Ordinary things

pairing: amy santiago x fem reader

cw: none

word count: 1,560

‘there's never gonna be an ordinary thing

no ordinary things with you

it's funny, but it's true

there's never gonna be an ordinary thing

as long as I'm with you’

════════════════

You set down your pen after finalising your last report of the night, eagerly you start to gather your stuff up at your desk to head home. You all had been moved to the night shift after rescuing Holt and Jake from Florida. It was causing a real strain on everyone’s mood, everyone was miserable and lacking all sources of happiness, you had undoubtedly learned your lesson. Once your bag was packed you stand up stretching your legs and scanning the floor. You eyes dart over to Amy’s desk to find her hunched over paperwork. You make your way over to her and place a gentle hand on her back.

“Hey, Ames. Shift is over.”

“I know,” she sighs. “Just got so much to do I can barely register anything.” She looks up at you with dark, tired eyes.

“How about you leave it for tomorrow? Come on I’ll take you home.”

“I don’t know… if I leave it I’ll have double the work tomorrow night,”

“I’ll help,”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that,” Amy insists, turning her focus back to the paperwork.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Now come on let’s go. Everyone else is gone, you need to rest.”

Amy takes a minute, looking between you and her paperwork as if deciding which is more important. Eventually she drops her pen and makes a move to start clearing up her desk. The two of you make your way out of the precinct and down to the carpark. You sit in a comfortable silence as you drive, it was always simple when you were with Amy. You didn’t have to force conversation or fabricate reality, she understood you perfectly and you appreciated that more than words could describe. There was something about her that made you feel warm, protected and appreciated. Maybe it was the way she looked at you, maybe it was the way she listened to you rant, maybe it was the way her intelligence inspired you. But it was something, a connection maybe, you’ve never believed in soulmates, but when you met Amy that changed. She was your soulmate, no matter your circumstance with her. There was nothing she could do to make you feel indifferent.

“Can we stop to get coffee?” Amy asked, drawing your attention back to the present.

“Yes, God knows we need it.” You smile.

You pull into the nearest coffee shop, Amy runs in to get it and you wait in the spot. From the window you can see her, even exhausted and overworked she radiates kindness. Even watching her interact with the barista has you smiling, you’ve always tried to push down your feelings, marking it as a childish crush. Besides even if you did tell her how you felt it would be pointless, Amy was strictly into men. You were almost certain there was something brewing between her and Jake, maybe that was far fetched but everyone else seemed to think so, as did you even if that made you want to curl into a pit blackness.

“You keep drifting off, everything okay?” Amy said as she got into the car handing you your coffee.

“Oh, yeah no I’m fine. Just tired.”

Amy just smiles, taking a sip from her coffee as you continue your drive.

“Hey, thanks for this, I need to talk to someone other than a criminal.” Amy laughed softly.

“Honestly same, everyone is so clearly done with this. I hope we’re put back onto days soon, I haven’t seen daylight in weeks.”

“Me too. But really thank you, I really appreciate you.”

“Of course, what are friends for?” You smiled, she gave you a short nod, turning her attention out the window.

She sighs then turns back to you, “I want to ask you something, but you have to hear me out. I may be way off, but I can’t keep this in anymore.”

“Okay, is everything alright?”

“Yeah fine.” She bites her lip then looks at you, “I like you I’ve liked you for a long time now, but I’ve been too scared to tell you. I don’t want to lose our friendship and you mean so much to me and I really really want to try this- oh my god I mean do you even like girls? I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“Amy.” You cut her off, just as you pull up to her apartment complex. You take her hand. “Breathe.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No. I’m glad you did,” you run your thumb gently over her hand, “I feel the same, I really really like you.” You smile at her, your eyes bearing into hers. “But I thought you had something with Jake..”

Amy furrows her eyebrows, shooting you a baffled expression. “Jake?!”

“Well- actually I can’t justify it.”

“You’re really bad at reading signals, huh?”

“Shut up,” you laugh, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

“How about on Saturday, when we’re off you come around? I can make dinner?” Amy suggests.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” You smile, a little too obnoxiously.

“Okay, cool cool cool. See you there.”

You both share an awkward hug which leads to you both furiously blushing like teenagers, you watched Amy get out of the car and of course laughed at her embarrassed wave goodbye. The whole way home you were smiling like an idiot, the events replaying in your mind.

════════════════

You ran your hand through your hair again before knocking on Amy’s door, you stand with your hand at your side, the other holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Amy answers the door, looking rather distressed. She doesn’t wait around and rushes back into the kitchen. You follow her, extremely concerned.

“Ames? Is everything okay?” You set the flowers down and look around the kitchen, there were pots everywhere things clearly went wrong.

“No. I ruined dinner, God I’m so sorry. I wanted this to be perfect and now it’s unsolvable.” She sighs, eyes prickling with tears.

“It can’t be that bad? Maybe we can salvage what’s not ruined?” You say, trying to seem optimistic.

“Oh it’s definitely not salvageable.” Amy picks up a wooden spoon inside a pot, except out can the spoon and a block of what you assumed to previously have been sauce.

“…oh, well that’s only sauce?”

Amy opens the oven which fills the entire room with black smoke, you immediately open the window and she gets a towel to blow the smoke away. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh but making eye contact with Amy makes the both of you burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, this is truly not how I excepted things to pan out.” Amy sighs, before you could reply she was crying.

Immediately you rushed to her side and pulled her into a tight hug, gently you run a hand up and down her back to sooth her. You felt sorry for her, it was clear she put a lot of effort into this just for it to not work out.

“This doesn’t have to mean our entire night is ruined. Why don’t you go get ready, I’ll clean up in here. Take your time we’re in no rush.”

Amy pulled back to look at you, you wiped the tears from her eyes and she softly smiled. “Are you sure? We don’t have to, we can reschedule or something.”

“No come on, I’m already here.”

“Okay, but really you don’t have to clean up. I’ll do that, it’s not your mess.”

“Ames. I don’t care about cleaning the mess. Just get ready, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”

Amy went to get ready and you cleaned the kitchen, as you were putting away the final dish she walked into the kitchen. She was wearing a sheer blue and black flowered blouse with a pencil skirt. You knew you were staring but you couldn’t help it, she looked so beautiful, so effortlessly radiant.

“Ames,” you exhaled. “You look gorgeous.”

She blushed as she walked over to you and wrapped her arms around your neck, your hands naturally rested at her waist. Your foreheads pressed together until she moved her lips onto yours, you pulled her closer and the kiss intensified. When you pulled away you both were blushing.

“Wait, I got lipstick on you.” Amy giggle and wiped her lipstick from your upper lip.

You swear you could have melted under her touch right there, but you knew you needed to collect yourself. You cleared your throat and Amy laughed. The two of you headed to the restaurant and got seated in a booth.

“Again I’m sorry, I had planned for a really nice meal and something more fun than a boring very ordinary restaurant.”

“No, it’s fine. This is still nice, besides it doesn’t matter what we do, we’re together that’s plenty fun.”

“Look at you being all sappy and motivational. I didn’t take you for the type.” Amy teased.

“I’m not usually, guess you bring it out in me.” You winked.

Amy just playfully rolled her eyes in response. The whole date may have started chaotically and completely gone to shit, but in the end you had a better time than you’d ever have dreamed of. Being with Amy truly was a thrill, the addition of knowing she liked you only emphasised that.

[electrospherevaults]

'ello everyone, today's a special day!

Back one year ago, and merely two weeks after I was done with the mandatory army conscription, I kept thinking about Defiler. This thinking led to some ideas on how to expand the world, especially coming off the heels of whatever the fuck being in the greek army was, and with friends explaining how much they loved the world and especially the faction of the Maidens of Wrethella, a warrior army in service of the King, I soon had a concept I wanted to explore.

Thusly, on August 26, 2023, at exactly four minutes past midnight, Maiden, the sequel novel to Defiler, was born.

HAPPY MAIDENVERSARY

Fair Lady Analussa of the Maidens of Wrethella, protagonist of MAIDEN Artwork courtesy @meer-draws

It's been a wild time since then, exactly one year ago now! Lots of things changed, lots of things improved; I know my characters better than ever before and the world they inhibit. Analussa grew from a simple character meant to inform the reader about Lionelli and her goals into her own fully realized character; her squad grew to include six more wonderful and superb lady maidens that are as badass as they are sweet. And at a current 97.5k words and 258 pages, I am inching closer to achieving the goal of finishing the sequel! It is still quite a long way to go - there are 41 planned chapters for it after all, and it would not be a Defiler sequel had it not posses some ambition of its own in what it is trying to do - but writing the story of Analussa and her squad as they survive the war-torn world of Tessereich has been a cathartic and healing experience for me; one that I hope I will get to share with you all soon enough)

Alongside the sequel, I have been continuously building the world of Defiler; its past, its present, its future, and how the cast of characters fit in the whole thing. Several of the short stories I have been writing earlier this year take place in the Tomorrow Galaxy where Defiler and Maiden takes place. Each one has been instrumental in figuring the world out, how it ticks, how it works, what it has to say. Most of all, this whole endeavour has helped me figure out Mallik the most, the protagonist of the first novel. She is especially dear to me - I wouldn't have so many artworks of her commissioned had she not been so instrumental in my growth as a writer and as a person - and it would be a severe understatement to say that her perseverance aided me to keep my chin up and continue unabated by difficulties and plights life threw my way. One day, I hope I can tell her story properly.

So what is next for the denizens of Tomorrow? Well, for now, my goal is to finish Maiden. Next goal is the to fix the draft of Defiler; that one will remain private unfortunately as I seek to get it published. I hope it will be fun to come back here and contrast the finished product with the first public draft made during its NaNoWriMo challenge phase. I also want to see if I can depict Defiler and the rest of the stories taking place in the Tomorrow galaxy in other mediums, such as animation and videogames - but that's a plan for later in the year, depending on how things pan out.

In any case, I want to thank y'all for reading, and I especially want to thank my friends, (like Babka, Beth, Gree, September, Sapphire, Chloe, Balkon, Aenore, Steph and Mirnos), for being instrumental in guiding me and believing in me throughout the way; from finishing Defiler, to reading it and critiquing it, and now traversing alongside me this wild new wider galaxy!

Thank you all kindly, and I promise you more news about Maiden in the coming months :D

In the meantime, you can read the first draft of the first novel, available for free, on here. (Analussa does appear in it, and her role, whilst small, is still quite important!)

[mushyblushyredhead]

Cure For a Bad Day—MCU

No thots. Just a silly fluffy Irondad thought I had to turn into a story. :3 If you don’t like, don’t read. But if you’re here for Irondad fluff or just fluffy Marvel tickles, then come on in! OvO

Word Count: 5,000

Summary: After a rough week of school mishaps, Peter starts to doubt his future at being a good student and even being Spider-Man. It’s up to Tony Stark to remind Peter he’s still worth it, and bring back his mentor’s favorite smile. (This is a tickle fic duh, purely platonic)

Lee! Peter

Ler! Tony

If there was one thing Peter Parker was good at, was multitasking. How many other teens could juggle the responsibilities of high school while fighting crime almost every night in the not-so-friendly-neighborhood, and still manage to finish their homework on time for the next day?

Somehow he was able to do both.

But like any other student, he had his challenges. Like today, for example. Peter was in the middle of trying to finish a lab report essay for chemistry class. He was pretty stressed out, as he hadn’t had so much time to work on it for the past three weeks stopping midnight crimes and shenanigans almost four nights a week.

Now, here he was, hunched over at his desk, typing away at his laptop attempting to finish his lab report that was due tomorrow. He was mid-paragraph, stuck on page three out of the required five.

Normally, Peter would rack his science loving brain and throw something together quick, but tonight was different. He was having trouble figuring out more words and what to say in the report.

His eyes were starting to hurt from staring at his computer screen so long. His spine ached from being hunched over like a shrimp in his chair for hours. And his stomach growled; he had skipped dinner and was insistent with himself that he could have time to eat after he got his report done.

He looked at his bedside clock. 10:37pm. Oh come on! I’ll have to go to bed soon and I’m not even close to being done.

Peter sighed. Sometimes, his full time job being Spider-Man could really put a dent into his student life.

There was a knock at his door. “Peter? You alright?” the soft voice of his Aunt asked.

“I’m okay, Aunt May,” Peter stifled a yawn. “Just finishing up homework.”

“You said you were finishing up two hours ago.”

“Well this time, I mean it. I am almost done.”

“Alright if I come in?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

The sight of her tired, stressed, hunched over nephew saddened May. “Oh, Peter, you’ve been at that science report of yours all afternoon. Why not call it a night and get some rest?”

“I can’t,” Peter’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. The blinking curser that sat there unmoving for hours seemed to mock him. “I have to finish this tonight. This thing is worth a lot of my grade this semester.”

“Hmm, okay how about this?” May offered. “I’ll let you knock off school tomorrow, and send a note to your teachers that you’re out sick. It’ll give you an extra day to finish your report.” Her lips ruled into a soft grin. “Maybe after that, you and I can head off to the mall and buy you some more of those Squishables things you secretly like.”

Normally, Peter would laugh and jokingly say what a bad influence she was letting him cut school like that. But tonight, he didn’t even crack a smile. “No thanks. I’ll get this done before I go to sleep. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Aunt May saw that tonight would be one of those nights where Peter wouldn’t budge out of his zombie induced state. So she decided to let him be. “Alright then,” she sighed. “Just please don’t stay up past midnight. I don’t want to get another phone call saying you slept through class and other kids decided to draw on your face.”

“Yeah, will do.”

And with that, she shut the door.

Peter rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “C’mon…c’mon…gotta finish. Ugh! Why can’t I finish?” The teen was just about to give up and call it quits when the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood out on end. His Spidey tingle was going off!

Despite feeling achy and sluggish, he quickly stood up and tore off his clothes, slipping into his Spider-Man costume. He pulled his mask over his face and was about to jump out the window when he stopped himself.

Aunt May might come back to check if I really did go to sleep. Dang it! Ok uhh…oh wait! That’ll work!

Peter grabbed some day old clothes off the floor and shoved them under his blanket, pushing them into a sort of Peter-shaped lump. Hopefully, if his aunt came to check on him she wouldn’t look too closely.

Grabbing his phone, he hopped off the windowsill and swung out into the night.

By the time Peter managed to sneak back into his room through the window, he was exhausted. He felt like he was about to pass out as soon as he stepped into his bedroom.

He flopped onto his bed, lifting his Spidey mask off his sweaty face. He didn’t have the energy to take off his costume just yet. He was so tired.

He had stopped a home break-in coordinated by three criminals. Normally, a crime like a break-in was child’s play to Peter. But after spending the whole week fighting off crime and running on four hours of sleep, and topped with the stress of his recent assignment, Spider-Man suddenly didn’t have the energy to do a lot of fighting tonight.

His web-shooting was uncoordinated, one punch nearly knocked him out, and he appeared to be wobbly when he landed.

Even the criminals seemed to noticed how he wasn’t putting much of a fight, and taunted him while having their weapons pointed at the sleepy hero.

Peter barely managed to stop those three criminals, and earned himself a bruise on his jaw and knee. So by the time the boy made it home, the clock read 1:55am.

Peter wanted to scream in frustration. Well there goes another sleepless night, he thought as he quietly stripped himself out of his Spidey suit and grabbed a T-shirt from his floor pile.

He cringed as his brain calculated the few hours of sleep he would be getting again.

The next day at school turned out to be so much worse. First, Peter was late to his first class due to him sleeping through his many alarms he set for that morning. Next, he ended up forgetting his lunch—and even emergency lunch money—from rushing to get ready earlier. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to put him in a bad mood, he completely forgot about his lab report.

His stomach churned as he heard the teacher announce for everyone to hand in their reports to the front.

“Peter?” The voice of his best friend made him whip around.

“What is it, Ned?”

“What’s up with you?” Ned asked in a hushed whisper. “You look like you haven’t slept in a month, and you’re acting way jittery than normal.” Ned’s eyes widened. “Is it the spider sense?! Is there danger somewhere right now? Do you need me to come up with an excuse so you can get out of here?”

Peter could barely register his friend’s overlapping questions. “No, Ned, I don’t need anything. And it’s not that. I just…” he sighed, burying his face into his sweater covered arms. “Trouble in the neighborhood late at night, and I completely forgot to finish my lab report.”

“What?!” Ned whisper-shouted. “Y’know normally I’d scold you like your aunt does, but you look like you’ve been through enough already.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Need me to make up some excuse? Save your skin at least a little?”

Peter shook his head miserably. “No point. I’m screwed enough as is here. Total failure.”

“Are you su—“

Their conversation was interrupted by the teacher snapping at them. “Parker? Your report, please.”

Uneasiness filled Peter’s stomach again. It felt borderline nauseous. He slowly walked up to the front desk. “I uh…don’t really have it physically with me right now.” He pointed towards his lab table. “I-It’s on my laptop.”

“Trouble printing it out?” The teacher asked.

“Something like that.” Peter could feel his cheeks growing warm.

The teacher sighed with a head shake. “Well then if you email it to me in the next three minutes, I’ll still give you credit. But next time, Peter, make sure you are able to find a reliable printing source ahead of time when you’re printing your reports. Don’t just try to print them last minute, that’s when these incidents happen.”

“Yes, of course.” Peter swallowed dryly as he shuffled back to his table. His fingers trembled as he opened his laptop, the unfinished pages of his lab report staring back at him. It felt like a punch to the gut. Well…something is better than nothing, right?

After school, the poor exhausted teen wanted nothing more than to go home, face plant onto his bed, and hope his mattress would swallow him up.

He was surprised to see a text message from Happy on his phone screen. Meet at the Avenger’s facility right after school. Your ride is waiting for you out front. New missions are heading your way. :) -Happy

New mission? That perked Peter up a little. At least he could forget about school for the weekend. Sulking in his room would have to wait. Right now, he was curious as to what sort of new mission awaited him at the Avengers’ headquarters!

The car trip didn’t take so much time. It did, however, leave the boy to replay the events that had just happened prior. He slumped in his seat. Suddenly, a new mission with the Avengers didn’t seem to excite him anymore.

Why can’t I just be more responsible? Peter bitterly asked himself. The other Avengers are able to juggle their normal lives and jobs and still manage to fight bad guys all without breaking a sweat. Heck, even Mr. Stark can do it. So why can’t I? *sigh* Am I really that bad of a student? What’s my future going to look like if I can’t even make it through high school?

Ugh! Why is your entire self worth and future determined by one stupid grade?!

Upon arrival, Peter didn’t seem as starry-eyed or ecstatic anymore. At least, that was the noticeable vibe Tony Stark noticed with his young mentee. He, in fact, looked in bad shape. Dark rings circled under his eyes, he looked disheveled like he had been sleeping under a bridge the whole week, and he seemed very anxious. Not the typical anxious-excitement Peter normally projected whenever he heard any mention of a potential new mission.

Tony wrapped an arm around the silently depressed teen. “So how goes it, kid? Survived another week of school?”

Peter scoffed. “Just barely.”

“I hear ya. But hey, cheer up. It looks like a certain web-slinging hero will be tagging along on more serious world-saving missions with the rest of us. Now how’s that upgrade for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

The boy merely shrugged. “I guess it could be good for my rep. So long as I don’t screw anything up again.”

“Hey, look. You just made a couple mistakes, underoos. It happens to all of us when we’re starting out as heroes. But this a fresh start; a chance to really show the others and the world that your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man protects more than just the neighborhood and supermarkets. He protects the world, too.” He gave Peter’s shoulder a shake.

“Okay,” Peter said with a small sigh. Oh how he wished he could get back to sulking in his room right about now.

Tony started to grow more worried about his mentee that afternoon. He assumed the kid had a bad day at school or was simply tired after a long week, but this seemed much worse.

Peter didn’t go on mini gush-rants about random things. He didn’t spit out any science jokes or puns. He didn’t even quote any old movies. Peter Parker always quoted his vintage iconic quips and lines. It was like his second vocabulary—first vocabulary being talking in only Star Wars lines.

Something was really wrong. And Stark was not going to wait around any longer to find out.

When Tony finally found Peter, he was sitting upside down from the corner of the ceiling, the hood of his sweater almost covering his face, earbuds in and mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Peter?”

Said teen took his earbuds out. His gaze softened when he met eyes with his mentor. “Oh, hey Mr. Stark. What brings you here?”

“That’s just what I want to ask you, kid. What are you doing up there by yourself?”

Peter shrugged. “Bored.”

“Bored?! In the freakin’ Avengers’ facility?”

“Well, sorry. Guess I’m just a little too tired today.”

He’s trying to avoid my question, Tony thought. “A better question would be, why have you been moping around since you got here? Happy even said that you were so quiet in the car ride here. No offense, kid, but you’re never the quiet type. Especially around Happy. So what gives?”

The boy averted his game. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just tired like I said. Y’know, keeping the neighborhood safe almost every night really drains your energy.”

“Cut the charades, kid,” Tony said firmly. “I wanna know what’s up with you. I’ve known you long enough to know that even with your nighttime gig as Spider-Man, you somehow always have enough energy to set Happy’s blood pressure spiraling, and annoy the rest of the Avengers with your weird vine refreshes and those picture things you call memes.”

Peter averted his gaze. How could he tell his mentor and biggest idol all the crappy events that took place that week? It wasn’t like it was a serious topic. It was just his own failure to be responsible.

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly.”

“Hmm…let me guess. Trouble at school?”

Peter looked up.” Maybe?”

“Alright, give me names here. A description of the punk. Who’s organs do I have to obliterate?”

“What? No, no, no, it’s not like that, Mr. Stark,” Peter quickly objected. “It’s just…rough days at school is all. And my student life.”

“I see. Want to come down from there and talk about it? I’ll have Happy make us some hot chocolate.”

“Alright.”

The warm hot chocolate was very comforting. After the long harsh week of events, a hot comforting drink was just what Peter needed. And it helped ease the hesitance he had earlier so he was able to come clean about what had happened.

“Wow,” Tony said, finally breaking the silence. “It sounds like the week really treated you terribly.”

“Tell me about it.” Peter fixed his gaze on his cup.

“Hey, listen, kid. You just had a bad week. Things will get better. You gotta believe that.”

The teen hero frowned. “How do you know I won’t keep failing? I’ve been screwing up nonstop this entire week. And even when I try to do better, everything always turns out worse. It’s like the universe hates me because I’m Spider-Man.”

Before Tony could respond, Peter kept talking. “And its so dumb, too. This whole situation. I’m sitting here whining about something that could’ve been avoidable if I had been a more responsible student. There’s no one to blame but me. And look at you, Mr. Stark. If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t be a failing student just because you’re Ironman. I just want to do better, but I don’t feel like I can. And I know the school system doesn’t believe I can either.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Tony protested. “You’re a brilliant kid, Peter. Yes, you’re going to hit roadblocks along the way with your full time gig as Spider-Man and as a full time student, but you’re going to be fine. You just need a little encouragement. When you’re out there saving the neighborhood and face-to-face with an enemy that makes you feel like it’s hopeless, I’ve noticed that you never back down. No matter how difficult it is. This right here isn’t any different.

And if the crappy school system that’s been putting too much pressure on their students and treating them like garbage doesn’t believe in you, I do. I believe you can do it, Peter. You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”

Peter almost wanted to tear up at the words his mentor was telling him. Damn, he really was good at this inspirational uplifting speech thing. Maybe even better than Captain America.

He couldn’t stop the tears, though. He had been feeling so emotional this entire week and after hearing Tony freakin’ Stark rant about how he was worth it despite everything he was feeling, Peter really needed to let some tears out.

Seeing the boy’s eyes fill with tears made Tony panic. Had he made the kid feel worse with his words? “Oh god, are you alright? Did i go too far with that?”

Peter let out a breathy laugh. “No, no, you’re good.” He sniffed, and wiped his tears with his sweater sleeve. “Sorry I got emotional back there. Your uplifting speech just got me teary-eyed. Thanks, Mr. Stark. I guess I really needed to hear that.”

Tony gave the teen’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Anytime, kiddo. Glad I could help. Now, I do want to help out with your school problem a little so you’re not feeling traumatized Monday morning.”

The boy tilted his head like a curious puppy. “Huh? What do you mean help out?”

“Well I sort of did a little research on what your next assignments for the week are going to be on for your classes. And I took the liberty to have FRIDAY complete next week’s assignments so you’ll have the entire week off to not worry about your homework.”

“You…wait, are you saying that you had FRIDAY hack into my teachers’ lesson plans and did all my homework for me?!”

Tony nodded, stirring his half drunk mug with a spoon. “Yup. Your homework’s done with all the right answers so it’ll guarantee to bring your grades back up to an A+.” He paused. “Well, an A- to make it seem like you did it.”

Peter didn’t know if he should feel grateful or disbelief. “I-I…thank you? I guess?”

Tony smirked. “What, that’s it? I do you a favor here so you can have the week off. You can have more time to focus on your web-slinging career, or use the extra time to take a nap in home room, or stare at girls more between classes.”

Peter blushed at that last comment. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I really appreciate it.” For the first time that week, Peter smiled. A genuine warm smile. Then his face melted to concern. “Wait…do you think that it’s cheating?”

“Uhh….nah,” Tony assured him with a wave of his hand. “Hey, as long as it gets you the grades you deserve. Besides, you aren’t even going to use 90% of the crap they teach you in school. You’re gonna forget it immediately anyways.”

Peter giggled, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark. You’re just as a bad influence as May.”

“Good! Maybe you can learn something here about all the shortcuts and loopholes to high school.”

“There are noho loopholes or shortcuhuhuts to high school!”

“Hell yeah there are! How do you think I got to where I am today?” Tony gestured to himself. “You think all of this happened by being a full time student? No way. High school did nothing to help me be who I am today. All it did was give me anxiety, student debt, and unrealistic expectations on what I needed to thrive in the real world. Oh yeah, high school teaches you nothing on how to adult or pay your bills. But hey, at least they teach you that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, right?”

Peter could not stop his giggles anymore. His giggles turned to laughter, and even while trying to muffle them through his sleeves, Tony could see the corner of his smile and the blush that dusted his cheeks.

It was always so easy to make the kid laugh, and Tony always liked to take advantage of it every time.

“Y-You’re terrihihible, Mr. Stark!” Peter said through his bright laughter. “A bahahad influence! Y-You’re even worse thahahn Loki!”

“Excuuuuse me?!” Tony pretended to be offended. He sat up, scraping the chair back, which made Peter’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Wait, no!” Peter surprised Tony by flipping onto the ceiling. “Don’t—Don’t tickle me, Mr. Stark!” Peter had had enough recent experience knowing what that look meant every time Tony got up from his seat. Having his own mentor know of his one dreaded weakness—the fact that he was insanely ticklish—and using that to mess with him anytime he got depressed or a little too snarky always flustered him to bits.

Tony grinned up at the spider teen on the ceiling. “Huh? Tickle you? Now why on earth would I do that? Oh right, because your ticklishness got dialed up to eleven from the spider bite. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Peter’s blush darkened. “S-Stop saying that so casually! I now what you’re up to!”

“Hey, I’m not up to anything. And honestly, I wasn’t going to tickle you.” A sinister smirk spread across his mentor’s face. “But since that was the first thought that crossed your mind…”

Peter’s tummy did fluttery flip flops. “Oh c’mon!! Mr. Stark nohoho! Dohohon’t you dare!”

“Too late. FRIDAY, a little help?”

“Yep. On it.”

The poor flustered teen squealed in alarm as one of Tony’s Ironman suits came flying over to him, trying to pry him off the ceiling. It was surprisingly easy, as Peter was already too giggly and flustered to concentrate on his sticking to the ceiling.

With Peter off the ceiling, he was dumped ungracefully onto the floor in front of Tony where the Iron suit immediately grabbed and pinned the kid’s wrists above his head.

“What the—FRIDAY you traitohohor!” Peter squawked. He pulled on his wrists, internally pouting that his spider strength wasn’t working in that moment.

“Hey now, don’t you insult FRIDAY,” Tony playfully scolded with a poke to the boy’s stomach. Peter squeaked at the touch. “We’re just here to help you out. I know how rough it’s been with school lately, and I don’t want to lose my underoos just because of that. You’ve been real upset ever since you got here and I know you’ve been upset all week. So no more of that now. You should know the Avengers’ facility is a no-sadness zone!”

And with that said, Tony right away scribbled both hands into his kid’s belly, making Peter screech.

“EeeAAAHAAaahahaaa! HeHEHE—Heyyyy! No faHAHAhahair!” Peter thrashed and kicked, instinctively trying to pull his arms down to no avail. “Mr. Stahahark! Nohoho pleasHEEAheeheehease!”

“Sorry, no can do, kiddo,” Tony casually answered over his mentee’s squeaky laughter. “I haven’t seen my underoos’ favorite smile in forever so I’m making up for lost time!”

“B-But nohohot like tha—HAAAHA! Heheheyyy!” Peter arched his back as Tony’s fingers crept up to his ribs. His blush now spread to the tips of his ears. He was cursing internally at how his Spidey strength was suddenly no longer there as he was laughing like a maniac.

Any other intense situation, Spider-Man would be able to easily get himself out of, but this was different. The ticklish sensations buzzing throughout his nervous system plus all his laughing was sapping any strength he had left, including his spider strength.

As Tony let his fingers inch closer to the teen’s underarms, he was playfully shocked when Peter tried to bite him. He pulled his hands back with a gasp.

“Whoa! What the heck was that?! What are you, a biting tarantula now?”

“You were getting too close to my armpits!” Peter shot back.

“Ohhhh I see.” Tony flashed him an evil grin that reminded Peter of that creepy, murderous knife-hiding doll from that 80s movie that always came back from the dead. “That’s your death spot, isn’t it?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his blush darkening. “N-No..?”

“Wrong answer.”

“AAAAAAHHERRHWHRHFEAAHAAAAAHAAAHA!! No Mr. Stahahahark!! NAAAHAHAHAO!!” Peter squirmed like a fish out of water, his body instinctively trying to twist away from Tony’s evil scribbling fingers. But no matter which way he turned, it didn’t help much. Tony’s fingers seemed glued to his hollows.

“EEEEAAAAHEHEEHHAAAA!! M-MR STAHAHARK!! IT…IHIHIT REALLY TIHIHAHAHA TIHIHICKLES BAAAAHAHAHD!!”

“That’s the point, kiddo! It’s more—whoa! You are just extra kicky today, aren’t you? FRIDAY, a little help here?”

“NOOOHOHOHO!”

Tony and FRIDAY had switched places; FRIDAY grabbing ahold of Peter’s flailing legs while Tony grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand. Even as the two switched places, Tony couldn’t help but notice how Peter wasn’t putting up a fight to get away. He could’ve easily gotten up and bolted the second they let go of his limbs, or curl up with his arms wrapped around his torso so they couldn’t bring his arms up anymore, but he just laid there with a silly smile and blushy cheeks. Almost as if he secretly wanted this to keep going.

Tony had to ask the billion dollar question. “Y’know Pete, despite all your complaints, you’re not even putting up a fight to stop me or FRIDAY. Could it be because…you actually like this? You like getting tickled?”

Peter fell silent. He looked anywhere but his mentor’s eyes. He opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was stutters and keyboard smashes.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Really? Look, I’m barely holding down your arms here and you’re not even trying to get away!” Peter’s face felt like was on fire now. “You know you can easily break out of my grip—even FRIDAY’s—and hightail it outta here, buuuut…I’m starting to think you don’t want to. Am I right or what?”

“I-I…” was all that came out of Peter’s mouth. Finally, he sighed and locked eyes with his mentor. His flustered, trembling lip suddenly curled into a crap-eating grin. With a defiant smirk, Peter stuck his tongue out. “Bite me, old man!”

Tony’s mouth formed a perfect O. Oh the kid was so asking for it! Recovering in a millisecond, Tony cracked his knuckled for dramatic effect. “That’s it! You’re finished, kid! You know I’m sensitive about my age!”

Peter actually had the nerve to stick his tongue out at him again.

Okay, so maybe truthfully he didn’t want this playful attack to cease. It was a great stress reliever after the rough week he endured. And if Peter wanted to dig a little deeper into it, while he was being tickled to pieces and screeching at frequencies only dogs should hear, he couldn’t think of all the bad things that had happened—his lab report incident, academic pressure, or even any general insecurities he had as Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

All he could think about in the heat of the moment was the playful ticklish feeling, the waves of dopamine, and the pure fun bonding vibe. So despite all the squealing and squirming, Peter was genuinely having fun. He’d be bummed if Tony stopped so soon. So he had to provoke his mentor some more to keep the fun going.

And that’s just what he did.

Oh, but if only FRIDAY hadn’t been traitorous enough to actually look up other sorts of tickling methods and suggest them to Tony to use against Peter.

“W-Wait! Wahahahit!! NonononoAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAAAA!! EEEEEHHAAAHAEHE!! THAT FEEHEEHEEHEELS AHAHA—AWFUFUFUL!! *snort* NAAAAAAHEHEAAHAAAAHAHAAA!!”

“Did you just snort, kid?!”

“N-Nohoho!! Shuhuhut uhuhup!! AAAAH! Waitwaitwait!! I tahahahake it baHAAAAAAHAHAAAAA!!”

Better hope that none of the Avengers nor his enemies finds out about Spider-Man’s adorable little weakness.

[marigolddove]

Love Begins With Murder, Believe it or Not.

Part 3

Request by: @yandere-dark-cupid

I stayed up until 3 am writing this, passed out and then woke up at 6 am to finish it lol. It's okay though I'm not tired, I'm just happy to be writing. I hope you all enjoy this part there will definitely be another part which will probably be the final for a while. I'll probably try and leave this story with a not-so-official ending because I might make one-shots based around this in the future.

Also I'm getting a new job soon so that might cut into my writing a bit but I'm going to keep writing no matter what I'm so grateful for Welcome Home and all it's characters and all my fellow fanfic writers and artists out there making more and more content for this fandom. You guys are all awesome and Welcome Home is officially my comfort Fandom, without it I might've never wrote anything ever again. So thank you to @partycoffin, and all of the AU creators, you're all truly wonderful people.

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of torture and violence, anger issues.

@elegantkidfansoul, @sunkyss, @all-things-fandomstuck, @sailorsimp13, @cricketsjunk

💀♥️💀

Wally couldn't believe he didn't have one single vase in his apartment, not one! He had been so certain he'd had flowers before, surely he'd had…he was a lover of beauty and nature, so it was extremely frustrating when he couldn't find his—imaginary—vase.

He could've let it go there, just put the bouquet in a tall glass or leave them out to dry and get a vase tomorrow, but to be honest he was procrastinating when he suddenly decided he needed a vase before his nap; he knew of a flower shop fifteen minutes away on a strip he was well familiar with—he often got lunch or dinner from a nextdoor diner, well he did before he hit this depression.

That's what all this is about, after all. Depression.

He lost the desire, the drive, to style his hair, paint, draw, talk to his friends and employees, he doesn't even make eye-contact like he used to; and now to top it all off, he realizes, there's absolutely no life in his apartment. Even his old paintings feel soulless, hollow, because they don't fill him with the emotions he once held as he crafted them.

When the depression set in, he couldn't be sure, it had been a gradual change; but it was one he hadn't noticed until now, he hadn't wanted to think about it.

He feels his face flush in embarrassment as he thinks of his neglect of himself and his home as he drives to the shop, the sky turning orange and blue behind the many buildings surrounding him.

As he kept his eyes trained on the still bustling road ahead, he could only hope he would make it in time so this uncoordinated trip wouldn't be a complete waste.

—————————

With traffic being convinently merciful to him this early in the evening time, he is soon racing to the shops entrance door, bouquet delicately cradled by his left arm; completely missing the 'open' sign flipping to 'closed' as his unoccupied hand grasps the door handle and turns.

As he pushes into the building he is shocked to find an employee standing right at the entrance, hand quickly retracting from the door as they lock eyes with him, seemingly just as shocked by his sudden entrance.

The bell above the door chimes.

For Mr. Darling, renowned local kingpin, ruthless 'family' man, time seemed to slow for a moment, just a moment. It was almost as if the chiming of the bell had put him into a trance, or maybe it was just you.

There you stand, (h/c) hair fluttering from the sudden rush of wind that came from him opening the door, staring right at him; your work uniform fitting you quite nicely, especially with your own accessories that added a unique personal touch, not to mention the smell—which was most definitely the shop, but there is no doubt in his mind that you smell any different—sweet and floral.

You're the first to speak, voice a bit nervous at his stare, "O-Oh! Hello, we–ah, I, was just about to close up shop." You move the hand that had been reaching for the door handle to fiddle with a ring on your opposite pinky finger, a sign of anxiety.

Realizing how he must look, a bit wild from the wind whipping his already disheveled hair around with tired eyes, his ears and cheeks grew a little hot, but he clears his throat into his hand as he tries to recover from his sudden and silly attraction.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to just barge in here, but…" he shrugs the arm cradling the bouquet, "I'm looking for a vase, this shop was the only place I could think to find one and it wasn't a far drive…I thought I had a vase, but I was wrong." He explains ratherly lamely, his usual suave and calm demeanor shattered by his growing embarrassment at his current mental and physical state. This was a mistake, he should've just waited for the morning or let the flowers dry out, he should be sleeping right now.

Like an angel you smile at him, so bright and warm it almost feels like the sun is beaming at him, "That's alright! I don't mind a bit, sir, follow me I have some you can choose from in the back." You move to allow him full access and then make your way to what looks to be a storage closet at the back of the shop.

He follows without a word, eyes glued to your figure as you seem to glide to the back, your feet making little to no noise as you move.

The door to the storage closet is open with chalk board sign leaning against the wall next to the door frame, 'small vase $10, medium $15, large $25 ALL HAND MADE!!'.

"You make your own vases?" Wally asks, impressed even before seeing the quality of your work.

You flush as you glance at the sign and then gesture to the closet, signaling him to take a look at your stock, "Yeah, it's a new thing I started doing…I've always been into crafts and stuff like that and working with clay seemed really fun and challenging, so…." He notices your words grow softer, seemingly embarrassed.

Well he can certainly tell you're a beginner, many of the pieces seem a bit lop sided or misshapen, but some are charming due to their faults. Something art had taught him early on is to love imperfections just as much as perfections.

"They're charming." He says, and it's the truth, hearing the honesty in his tone makes you turn a bit more red as you smile gratefully at him.

"Which would you recommend for this bouquet?" He asks, he already has an idea of which vase he'd pick but he wants to hear your opinion.

You eyeball the bouquet, a knowing look sparkling in your (e/c) eyes, and look to the assortment of pottery, "hmm".

Your eyes land on a particularly unique piece on the bottom shelf, it's wide and a bit overly round at the bottom and it narrows a bit more dramatically than you intended at the top, it was also colorful, painted with vertical rainbow stripes that had come out very pastel when you had originally wanted a very bold rainbow color. Overall it had been a bit of a flop, but at the same time it has become one of your favorite pieces and it was a tragedy it had never been used. Whether it looked good with this particular bouquet didn't really matter, to be honest it didn't compliment the bouquet at all, but it deserves a home.

Following your gaze, Wally examines the piece you're staring at so intensely.

"Is that the one?" It certainly wasn't the one he was going to pick, but the way you stared at it with such sentiment made his heart leap. Oh how he missed the days when he would look at his own art with such a nostalgic and sentimental gaze.

"I don't know…it's a little ugly, to be honest…it doesn't really go with the flowers."

"I can always get more flowers." He responds smoothly, catching even himself off guard.

The two of you lock eyes again and he wishes he had examined himself before coming here, so he could know how you see him. He's certain he looks like a mess, and not a hot one.

You seem taken back by his response, but recover quickly to smile, "Yeah, I guess you can. This is a flower shop after all." You glance down at his bouquet again, "you wouldn't happen to know someone named Julie, would you?"

He knew you would recognize the tag and the flower combination, so your question didn't phase him, "Yes, actually. I'm sorry I couldn't come in for the flowers myself, at the time I was…busy."

"Ah, no need to apologize, worrying about a funeral is tough even when you weren't close to the person who died. I'm sorry for being a bit nosey."

"I don't think you're being nosey at all," he ignores the bit about the funeral, not wanting to really lie, but still omitting the truth, "these flowers you picked are really very lovely, I almost want to keep them for myself." He absolutely intends on keeping them for himself.

Your smile turns a bit bashful, "Oh, well thank you. It's nice to know I got it right." Turning back to the shelves of pottery, you crouch to the one you had been staring at, "So is this the one you'd like? Or did you have your eye on another?"

"I'll take that one and these two as well." He gestures his free hand to two other pieces, one being a bit plain and lumpy, the other a bit more colorful; the base color being yellow with red and blue swirls.

"Three?" You ask, a bit surprised.

He grins at you, and unknown to him your heart flutters, "This way I have an excuse to come back, I'm going to need flowers for them, right?" It's been a while since he's tried flirting, but by the way your entire face seems to light up and flush he's certain it's been effective.

"R-Right," you grab two of the vases as he grabs one, "that's three medium sized pots so it'll be $45 dollars." The two of you make your way to the check out counter and place the three pots delicately, "I'll go ahead and wrap these for you." As he grabs the money out of his wallet, you rummage through the work table and pull out a bundle of plain wrapping paper. Carefully, you wrap each individual piece in a thick protective layer of paper, then delicately place the three into an oversized grocery bag, adding more wads of paper between each piece.

Wally lays the money down onto the counter, slipping an extra $5 bill as a tip, as you place the finishing touches on the bag of fragiles. When you're pleased with your work, you hand him the bag with a wide grin, collecting the cash; before you can finish counting Wally tips his head to you.

"You have a good night, doll, stay safe." Without another word he exits the shop, you call after him about his change but he doesn't respond. Upon examining the extra $5 bill closer you notice a series of numbers written on it, when had he done that?

It doesn't take a genius to know that he's written a cell phone number on the bill, despite his somewhat messy appearance your stomach feels as though it's infested with butterflies at the idea that he might have been interested in you. He certainly had flirted with you a little bit, but that didn't have to mean anything, but leaving his number? That means something.

He did say he would need to come back for more flowers, you smile at the thought, carefully folding the bill and tucking it into your pants pocket. You begin to close shop again, this time with no interruptions.

—————————

Julie should've told him he looked this awful, he thought to himself as he examined his reflection in the rear view mirror. No, no, no this won't do! Horror pierced it's way into his heart as he also realized that this is how he had looked during your entire interaction. He had flirted like this…left his number looking like this.

A part of him wanted to storm back into the shop and explain that this isn't him, just something he's been dealing with, tell you that he's not some pathetic, greasy nobody like he knew you must've thought he was.

He's Wally fucking Darling, he kills whoever he wants, whenever he wants, sells what he deems profitable no matter how morally gray and takes whatever he pleases. The people that surround him know to not only fear him but to adore him.

In his sudden shock and growing fury he almost, nearly, throws the bag of pottery to the floor of his passenger side; but he doesn't, of course, he's much too collected to just fly off the handle and break things—he most certainly is not, just two weeks before he broke that not-so imaginary vase he knew he had, it had been in a fit of frustration towards Howdy for failing a trade agreement; Wally didn't remember it now, but that day he had taken his only vase and chucked it at Howdy's much higher head. He had missed entirely, and now he's forgotten the whole ordeal.

Thankfully there's even less traffic, somehow, on the way back, which keeps his temper low but bubbling gently to the surface. A rolling boil was sure to start.

When he arrived back to his apartment, he placed the pots onto his sofa along with the bouquet, so delicate compared to the war of emotions he held inside.

Remember: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6—

He enters his massive, stunning bathroom and makes a b-line for the mirrors, he needs a better look at the damage his neglect has done.

If looks could kill one look would make the mirrors shatter, this isn't who he is. He feels like an imposter in his own body when he looks at himself, hair greasy and wild—no longer slicked back due to the wind, he doesn't even like slicking back his hair, it isn't his style! Then there's the grotesque bags under his eyes, when had they become so dark and puffy? How hadn't he noticed sooner? The rage was building now.

7, 8, 9—

Why was his skin so dull an–and sallow?!

Suddenly the sound of his marble counter top cracking triggers a roar of emotion to overwhelm him, he doesn't even register he's injured himself by slamming a fist down onto the marble. The emotions are so raw, so heavy, he doesn't even realize he's out of the bathroom now; doesn't hear the carnage he's creating or his own howls and shouts of incoherent anger and frustration.

When and how did he become so pathetic? How long had the others just sat idly by watching him grow weaker and uglier. His anger blinds him to the memories of when they had tried, all of them had; even Howdy, who wasn't the biggest fan of Wally to begin with, had tried.

The shrill ringing of his telephone snaps him back to reality, in his now bloodied and bruising hands he grips a broken frame that holds–held one of his own designs. His breathing is heavy and his head is swimming, wasn't he just in the bathroom a moment ago?

He drops the frame and stumbles to the phone, wincing at the loudness of it, he doesn't even take a moment to collect himself before answering.

"What do you wa–"

"Hello!" Your soft, sweet voice timidly interrupts his rude greeting.

Suddenly his stomach dips and his heart flips, he really hopes you hadn't heard him.

"Uh-uhm, it seems like I've caught you at a bad time, ha ha. I'm sorry about that, sir." You had heard his sour attitude, fuck.

"No, no," he corrects hastily, not wanting you to hang up, "I'm sorry, I just…I just injured myself getting to the phone." The lie feels bitter, like bile rising in his throat, fuck why did he lie?

"Oh," is your meek response, then a pause, "Well…I'm sorry for calling you so soon…and it's a bit late too, ah, this is so silly I'm really sorry."

He's about to reassure you he doesn't mind in the slightest, and it's the truth, but you continue quickly.

"It's just that I didn't ever give you my name, a-and I never got yours. Also I wanted to give you my number as well, that way I don't have to do all the calling myself, you see." Your stuttering is cute, but your sickeningly sweet reason for calling him has him swooning most of all.

"I see, well," he straightens himself, confidence filling him once more, "My name is Wally, Wally Darling, and you are..?"

"Y/N, Y/N L/N."

"That's a lovely name for such an enchanting flower like yourself, Y/N." He purrs, his turmoil and self-esteem issues quickly forgotten by this new cocktail of emotions, suddenly he's like a giddy teenage boy; twirling the phone cord between his fingers, a toothy smirk growing on his face and he imagines you blushing like you did in the shop.

"Your name is really cute too," you reply, you sound embarrassed but you're definitely smiling.

"Thank you," he grabs the note pad and pen he keeps by his landline, "Now then, what's your number?"

"O-Oh, right!" You quickly tell him your number and he repeats it back to you, once he's gotten it correct he smiles, gently placing his pen back down onto the table.

Sighing, "I must say, I'm glad you called." He admits.

"Oh?"

He hums, "Yes, when I got to my car I realized how I must have appeared to you. I typically take better care of myself, but, well, recently I've 'let myself go'." His tone remains light, almost dreamy as he speaks to you, even though on the inside he can feel the suffocating emotions from before bubbling up again.

"I just thought you were having an off day, you're actually very handsome." The way you say it, like its a fact he should already know, makes his face warm. Those emotions dying quickly before they can rise again, for a complete stranger you seem to have a powerful hold over him, you're able to make him feel nervous and excited.

It's pleasant.

"Well," you start, "It's getting late, I'm sure we both have things to do before nighttime."

He glances at the mess he made during his episode, as much as he wanted to disagree he knew he needed to clean up. He wouldn't live in this embarrassment any longer.

"Yes, thank you again for calling me, Y/N. I hope you have a good night."

"You too."

"Stay safe." He hears the receiver cut off on your end, he sighs into the now quiet and lonely air. He's grateful for your ability to distract him, he would've caused more damage to not only his home but to himself had you not called.

Wally looks around at the carnage he caused, grateful he didn't damage his newly aquired pottery and flowers. It's time to fix this.

—————————

When Barnaby returns to the building he's immediately greeted by Frank, with a disgruntled Eddie in tow. He had taken a bit longer than he would've liked with the rat, but the boss told him to really work on the guy, and he wanted to be sure the body couldn't be found and linked back to them. He's very thorough.

So he's a bit tired when he's approached by Frank, their face intense.

"Something's wrong with Wally."

Immediately dread fills Barnaby, worried something happened while he was gone, "What happened?"

"We heard him screaming and loud noises, like things being broken, upstairs."

"And neither of you thought to check on him?!" He barks, immediately heading for the elevator.

"It wasn't like the sound of struggling, I know what a struggle sounds like. He's probably just having a fit, like usual now-a-days, and I don't want myself or Frank to be caught in the cross fire." Eddie replies, his tone indifferent.

Frank sighs, following close behind Barnaby, "I wanted to go up and see him, but after what happened with Howdy–"

"I know." Barnaby cuts him off. A vase hadn't been the only thing Wally had thrown at Howdy the last time he became like this, and the vase hadn't landed anyway; but a paper weight had, and so did his punches. Despite not liking him, Howdy had stood there and taken it, claiming the boss "needed that more than anyone knew".

Barnaby wishes it had been him, not Howdy. He didn't want Wally to hurt him, but he's his best friend and he wants to be the one that's there for him at his absolute lowest, as well as his highest. It feels like recently he's missing all of the moments that are crucial for helping his first friend.

"Thank you for letting me know, I'll go see him alone now. You two get back to…whatever you were doing, have a good night." Frank looks like they're about to respond but the elevator doors close, effectively cutting them off.

Barnaby sighs into the silence of the elevator, readying himself for what's to come when he reaches Wally's penthouse.

He's surprised when he arrives and the room is filled with gentle music coming from the Gramophone—the record player—across the spacious living area; someone's singing in the bathroom, he soon realizes it's Wally singing and he's even more stunned. Wally hasn't sung a song in all the time he's known him, claiming he couldn't carry a tune.

To Barnaby, he sounds like a professional, smooth and suave. It almost feels like he's intruding, but the mess of the room makes him stay. Wally seems to have started cleaning up his mess, which is a nice change of pace. Typically Julie would come in and clean for him after hearing he'd had an episode, saying he deserves a clean safe space, even if he's the one trashing the place.

Barnaby moves to relax on the sofa, careful to avoid the bag Wally had left. He sits and waits a while, enjoying the soft melody and the surprisingly relaxing aura that the chaotic room held. He finds himself humming along with Wally, not knowing the words of his song.

When he hears his friend's singing end and the water shut off his posture straightens and becomes a little tense; worried how his little buddy might react at his sudden intrusion.

To his surprise, Wally exits the bathroom in a plush bathrobe, hair expertly wrapped in a towel atop his head as he continues humming a tune; and when he catches sight of Barnaby he's shocked but smiles.

"Ah, you're back. I did wonder if you would come and see me again today, I'm glad you're back safe." He moves closer to the sofa, bare feet padding against the hard wood floors, "Sorry for the mess, I got a bit carried away again today. I'm also sorry if I've been short with you today."

"There's no need to apologize, Boss. I'm just glad you're looking better."

"I do look better don't I? It's amazing what a shower and a quick skin care routine can do to a man." He says as he rummages through the grocery bag on the couch, pulling out three bulky items wrapped in paper.

He sits next to Barnaby and unwraps them, the record now fading into a new melody. Wally places three…interesting vases on the low table in front of them. His smile seems brighter as he looks at them.

"You starting a collection?" Barnaby jokes.

Wally hums, "I'm considering it."

"I told Julie to buy flowers for the…rat's lady friend, I intended on sending her a message with them, only to find out she herself is a rat. So I decided I'd keep the flowers for myself, they're quite pretty." He explained, his voice soft.

"But what's with the pottery?"

Wally laughs, "Well pretty flowers need equally pretty vases, my friend." Barnaby wasn't sure he would call them pretty, but he wasn't an artist so what would he know?

"Why'd ya get three though?"

"You're awfully inquisitive today, aren't you?" For a moment Barnaby worries he's stepped too far, but Wally's tone sounds mostly teasing and light hearted, "I bought three because I couldn't just pick one that I liked; besides, my home could use more art."

"Yeah, sure. It's just nice to see you smiling and, uh, getting out there." He admits awkwardly, his smaller friend looking up at him with a wide grin, it seems genuine compared to his usual facade.

"It has been nice, today hasn't been perfect, but it's been nice." Wally rises from the sofa, grabbing the plain, lumpy vase and the bouquet as he moves to the kitchen.

Carefully, he fills the vase with the recommended amount of water and retrieves a bit of lemon juice he's had sitting in his fridge for a month now—it's been longer than a month, he just doesn't know that—he adds a few drops to the tap water before arranging the flowers inside the vase.

He carries the vase filled with flowers back to Barnaby and places them at the center of the low table, adjusting it's position on the table until he deems it perfect.

Wally sighs as he relaxes back onto the couch next to his much larger friend, "Now all I need is more flowers to fill the other two, perhaps I'll make paintings of them as well, they're inspiring me already." He didn't say what else might be inspiring him, but in his mind an image of you formed. Maybe he would sketch you as well.

Barnaby raised a brow at him, even though he wouldn't see it, and smiled, "Hey, I'm glad you're wanting to paint again little buddy, after what happened earlier I thought you might be giving up for good."

Mentioning their time together earlier that day seemed to sour Wally's mood a bit, "Yeah, well, torture and death aren't always the best motivation I've realized."

At his sudden tone change, Barnaby scrambles to get him back to his pleasant mood, "So where'd ya get the pottery? Any place I might know?"

This seems to work as a twinkle appears in his eyes once again and he turns to fully face Barnaby, a soft and genuine smile gracing his features.

"You might, Eddie talks about it all the time it would seem, everyone knew about it but me, ha ha." He continued, "Well, actually, I knew of the flower shop but I had never gone in before, until today. You might know it, it's (S/N), over on 9th Street."

Barnaby contemplates the location a moment, he can't say that he does recall a flower shop there, "It's not ringing any bells, but whats so special about it, you seem very…happy and I'm not so sure it's about a flower shop."

Wally's eyes widen and pink dusts across his cheeks, something Barnaby isn't sure he's ever seen happen to his friend before, "Well, I suppose it's about more than a shop, yes," then he stubbornly adds, "Although the flowers do make me happy."

Barnaby motions for him to continue, Wally sighs and while it sounds like frustration he still has a grin on his face.

That's when Barnaby learns about you, although he's certain he might have heard of you before through Eddie Dear, but he knows Eddie never talked about you so dreamily.

This is also when Barnaby learns that his best friend might have experienced love at first sight.

[comfort-questing]

winter vigils

(single-handedly making the sickfic and extra angst the War of the Rohirrim fandom obviously needs... to be continued later)

(slight oblique spoilers for War of the Rohirrim but like. not much if you know the general plot)

--

They would call it the Long Winter, years after.

Hera knew it only as today, and yesterday, and some unguessable tomorrow perhaps to come. As layers of pale snow, trodden down by the boots of the men on their watches, tracked into the halls and barely melted by the faint warmth of the guttering fires. As pitiless stars shining through the heavy cloud-wrack above by night, her breath frosting on the air as she walked the walls, eyes stinging and face numb with the wind as Wulf’s siege tower grew higher each day outside the gates. As a bed left empty, and a bearskin blanket she curled up under each night, its familiar scent fading ever fainter, until the harsh voices of the crows woke her to another icy dawn.

The healers were busy all day now, attempting to sequester the sick from the well; futilely enough, since everyone eventually gathered together wherever the warmth was, even if the coughs spread faster than the smoky hearths alone could explain. The old woman with the keys shook her head and talked of plague, which was almost a welcome change from ghost stories. After all, the children weren’t afraid of sickness, although maybe they should have been, and the adults had too many other things to fear, more visible and difficult to ignore - such as the siege tower, and the uncomfortable emptiness of the storerooms.

In the lower rooms of the keep the horses were growing gaunt as well, hay stores as meager as all else, moldy oats shaken and sorted and toasted to draw them out as long as possible. Hera made sure Ashere had his ration each day, feeding him slowly from her cupped hands, the soft reality of his lips against her palms a sensation she could almost lose herself in. With her eyes closed, and the chill aside, this could have been any day. Any place, and anyone, perhaps, waiting for her when she opened her eyes again.

*

It was there in the makeshift stables that Hera first noticed herself coughing, and wearily blamed it on the close air in the keep, and paid no attention to it for a day or so. She wasn’t the only one by far, and there was so little medicine left anyway now for her to ask for, and Olwyn’s worried looks were easy to evade when there were so many things for Olwyn and all of them to be busy with and look worried at these days.

But one morning the stairs down to the stables seemed so miserably manifold suddenly, that several times she had to pause to rest, and she sat on a barrel to give Ashere his oats because her knees didn’t want to hold her up by that time. She hadn’t been able to get properly warm for longer than she could bear to think of, but that day the shivers ran up and down her skin in long desperate waves, legs achy and trembling beneath her.

Somehow, she made it upstairs again, breath coming short and coughs shaking through her, and crawled to the fireside to stretch out her numb hands to the blaze. Lief found her an hour later, as he came with the firewood alotment: huddled by the burnt-out hearth, knees drawn up and head resting against the carven stone of the walls. He nodded at her over his armload but then peered closer, worried; it wasn’t like her to sit idle.

“My lady?”

She raised her head, cheeks flushed, eyes strangely bright in her half-starved face. “Hullo, Lief.” Then, “I’m sorry - are they looking for me - I am so tired.”

“Oh, dear,” said Lief, blankly, and dropped his firewood outside the door with a great clatter, the quicker to go find Olwyn.

[femslashfeb]

HELLO ALL

TLDR

No reblogging from the blog this year - posting prompts tomorrow the 31st

For the past few years I've very much struggled with reblogging everyone's activity in the tag. So this year I will not be doing so.

(OR maybe I will? I just don't want to commit)

Even if I knew how to make a bot that reblogs - a lot of people still use the unique tag to tag outside challenges. So I've always had to hand submit. However it became too stressful for me and for the past few years I ended up avoiding it until later weeks or even months.

If you noticed I didn't finish reblogging last year so- I've just given up on that.

Honestly I've struggled a lot with depression for the last 7 years or so. It's been harder and harder to find my way back to tumblr. It doesn't help that my phone can barely handle the amount of apps it already has.

My main account @puff-pink hardly ever updates because of my big sad. And I don't know if I'll ever get back on the horse in the same way I did before.

Some of you know me as an artist, and tho I still churn out subpar art for my day-job I've struggled a lot to make art for myself during my depression. Partially because one year I overworked my hand - and still deal in continual wrist aches. Even the weeks I don't pick up a drawing tool.

I intended this challenge for myself and maybe the small fandoms I was in at the time. But it took off among writers and creators of all types across all fandoms.

One year I even tried to tally the most popular fandoms but there were honestly too many to keep track of- and I stopped after the first three pages of submissions.

I don't claim to have invented the concept of FemSlash February. Before I started the prompts I swear I had heard the phrase somewhere. Tho not sure where. Perhaps it had been amongst my friends on Skype. Back when I had online friends and Skype(I'm still not sold on Discord🤷‍♀️).

However that January I thought it would be fun to partake in a challenge of some kind. But scouring tumblr and the general internet. I could only find half hearted efforts on fanfiction sites from years past.

I'm so proud of all my Sapphic creators on here that have partaken every year. Even if I've never shown favoritism or awarded anyone. I do notice those that actually complete the challenge AND those that keep coming back each year(looking at you H20 writer(I don't remember your username but there's a mermaid writer that's a writing machine)). I truly am proud of you especially in my shriveled state of creativity. Thank you for your efforts. For your hype. And for your love of women of all kinds across all the universes.

Each year I'm surprised to find even more categories I never thought to include. From mood boards, to doll photography, to ofc the classic art and writing. May your pencils forever be in union with your sister mediums.

On that note. There is a strict NO AI GENERATED ART or writing this year.

Not that I could physically stop anyone who does use AI. But I do not want that sort of thing associated with this challenge. It's become scarily good in 2023 to the point it can't always be identified. So I simply ask for the honor system when it comes to AI generated creations.

That being said. If you've made it to the end of this post:

Prompts will be posted tomorrow.

I usually prefer to give yall more of a buffer, but I've been busy. Both with Big Sad, rescuing some feral cats, my own life, errands, chores and work.

If you're still here- here is a preview of the first three days.

FEB 1 - black

FEB 2 - spring

FEB 3 - cake

The 14th as usual will be some sort of Valentine romance type theme(haven't decided specifically yet) and as always there will be a Rest Day.

Expect some repeat prompts. In the past I tried to avoid them but idc anymore.

It's also a Leap Year this year so expect one extra prompt to throw off the symmetry of what's normally 28 days.

Thanks for coming back this year. And thank you to those that still check on this blog.

❤️🧡🤍💜🩷

Keep loving girls

-PuffPink

[liam-neesons-best-girl]

Journaling {Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader}

Summary: Qui-Gon finds your journal and decides to make all of your wishes come true.

Warnings: f!reader, drabble, invasion of privacy (reading a diary), smutty, 18+ mdni, NSFW

As a way to cope with stress and to organize your mind your oh so loving boyfriend, Qui-Gon, suggested journaling and it has become an everyday occurrence for you. Writing about the little things that make your day or the things that frustrate you. Writing out everything in your mind helps you release any pent up aggression that could cloud your ability to think properly.

One day when you are journaling, you decide to break up the day with a long shower. Unbeknownst to you, Qui-Gon enters your room after you have slipped into the ensuite of your quarters.

He saunters in comfortably, knowing the room like the back of his hand because of the many nights he has spent with you in his arms. He is surprised to find your journal left open on the page you just finished before going to shower with the ink still drying.

HIs curiosity was raised to see what his pretty little girlfriend was feeling today, getting a glimpse into life through your perspective.

The entry began as such:

Today I walked around the gardens and took note of each flower type. I plan on pressing them for my floriculture class and making botanical drawings in my sketchbook. I hope Qui-Gon picks some of the blue hydrangeas for me, they are my favorites.

How sweet, he thought smiling to himself, making a mental note to gather the flowers tomorrow morning. As he skimmed further down the page he saw your thoughts had drifted to something far different from flowers and your usual innocent self.

He found himself re-reading the same passage:

Qui-Gon is such a loving boyfriend. I am so lucky to have someone so gentle and sensitive to bare my soul too. I enjoy making love with him soft and slow but there are times I wish he would throw me onto the bed and have his way with me. Still be my darling boy who would never hurt me, but use his powerful frame to dominate me and use the filthiest language.

Even so, I could never tell him, I'm too embarrassed. What if he thinks I'm a freak? Would he never want me again?

Qui-Gon can't help but feel the need to adjust his trousers after reading your words. He couldn't fathom your feelings of shame, he never wants you too feel guilty for wanting him.

He scrambled when he heard the water turn off in the bathroom, deciding to place the journal back on the bed and act as though he just arrived.

You walked out of the bathroom, steam flooding out from the doorway, in just a bra and panty set. The black lace exciting Qui-Gon even more, like you knew he would come over that day.

"Hiiii, handsome," you greet, slinging your arms over his shoulders. He hugs you back, cupping your ass and kissing your neck, not like his typical tender greeting.

You squeal, a jolt of excitement rushing through you. "Qui-Gon, are you feeling alright?" you say, pulling away to search his face for any sign of concern. All you saw was lust in his eyes.

"I need you, starlight," He says groping you further. "Let me take what is mine."

You whimper out an 'okay' because you think that if you speak too loud you may wake up from this dream.

Qui-Gon starts making out with you and directs you over towards the windows over looking the courtyard of the Jedi temples. Below are few people, none of which are actively looking up to see you.

He pulls away from the kiss and flips you so your ass is flush against his pulsing cock, breasts smushed to the window for any on-looker to see.

"Qui, what if someone sees," you say, fearful of any reprimand may come from the council members.

"Let them. They will know you are mine for the taking, and mine alone." he growls, making you more wet by the second. He knew if you really didn't like this you would have asked him to stop. The thrill of being caught egged him on to continue.

He forcefully yanks his trousers down to his mid-thigh, too caught up in the moment to fully remove them and reaches down to move your panties to the side to gain entrance into your dripping pussy before slamming into you.

"I know you like this, my star, just begging to be fucked, coming out of the shower all warm and inviting," he rants into your ear to elicit the most toe-curling moans from you.

He fucks like an animal in heat, grunting, panting and marking you as his own, love bites splattered over your neck and shoulders.

You both come down from your highs sweaty and chests heaving when he turns you to face him again and you recognize your sweet baby boy.

"I don't know what came over me, my love, was it alright for you?"

"Yes, Qui, I needed that too," you say as you caress his face with a reassuring smile. "Now, come cuddle with me?"

Without a word, he guide you over to the bed and lift the sheets for you to get in first. He sheds his remaining clothes and spoons you, feeling proud of his ability to make you feel so loved and understood by your partner.

Little does he know that Obi-Wan thinks he saw you and his master through the window in a compromising position. He can't rid of the thought of your plush breasts against the glass, jiggling with each thrust, on display like his own little dirty show. He'll have to meditate over these new found feelings.