#they do it for different reasons like i already said before but i want to write about it with a bit more detail

[fatuismooches]

Zandy speed-walking to your room wrapped in his blanket whenever he got nightmares wasn't anything new.

In the beginning, he felt guilty for bothering you in the middle of the night, but ever since you found out the child had bad dreams once in a while, you urged him to come find you no matter what time it was. Thankfully, they had significantly decreased since he met you, but there were still times he woke up scared and sweating, as if flames had nearly licked him. Admittedly, a part of him wished you could sleep in his room every day so it wouldn't happen, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to you.

At first, Zandy would knock on your door and wait for you to open before intruding, but eventually, you managed to convince him to just let himself in and onto your bed. During these instances, you'd wake up to the child cuddling to you, sometimes with Foxttore squished in between. It was healing for both of you. And tonight, Zandy thought as he tip-toed to your room, would be no different. Quietly twisting the doorknob and entering the room, he already felt a bit more at ease, especially at the sight of your silhouette. The boy walked to the bed and began to climb on it when suddenly a hand shot out to grab him, and he was faced with none other than fellow blood-red eyes.

Quickly, Zandy figured out the situation, when he noticed that you were actually on the other side of the bed, this person was none other than Prime Dottore which he didn't realize in the darkness, and that he had accidentally woken him up. It was only natural that Dottore would be woken up at the slightest noise - he had never been a deep sleeper.

But more importantly, the situation had turned awkward once Dottore had removed his grip from the boy, realizing it was just him. Immediately, Zandy tried to shuffle off the bed - he and Prime had been on way better terms lately, no longer being ignored, which was wholly thanks to you - but he was still hesitant to interact without you. But Dottore wasn't going to let him off that easy of course.

"... What are you doing here?" The boy's eyes nervously flitted from your sleeping body to Prime, hoping you'd wake up to get him out of the situation.

"W-Well..." Zandy's voice came out louder than he wanted, "I wanted to... to..." he then drifted off as he tried to think of a reasonable excuse. He could tell Dottore wasn't particularly impressed, moving to get up when suddenly a new voice entered the conversation.

"Zandik, what's wrong?" You yawned as you began to sit up in bed. "Usually, you aren't this noisy when you're sneaking off to go do work instead of sleep-" You stopped your sentence slowly and rubbed your eyes, as you now realized someone else was in the room too. "Zandy? Is that you?"

"Yes..."

"Another nightmare again? Poor thing, come here," you cooed, stretching your arms open. Dottore remained silent but quickly pieced together what happened. Well, it made an awful lot of sense - you somehow always managed to be soothing after experiencing the terrors of the mind. He too remembers the times he rested his chest on your chest after his own nightmares. Logically, when the scholar thinks about it, his child segment's nightmares were probably similar to his too.

However, Zandy didn't seem very certain of the idea anymore, more interested in heading out the door. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before you quickly remembered that Dottore was likely causing his hesitation.

"There's no need to be shy. You can stay, we don't mind," you said softly, moving to the edge of the bed and grabbing both his hands. "Right, Zandik?"

"... Go ahead. There's only a few more hours until I get up, anyway."

"See? Now come here." With only a bit of persuasion, the child was in between the two of you. Well, he was mostly attached to you while Dottore was just on the other side, but it was still sweet. You gently patted Zandy's head as you began yawning again, sleepiness still coursing through you. At that, Dottore pulled up the covers, making sure you (and the child) were warm.

"Good night, Zandy, Zandik..."

"Good night, [Name]... fa-" The word quickly softened and dried up on the boy's lips as he realized that he was still not brave enough for that yet. Zandy swiftly shut his eyes and willed his body to sleep as fast as possible.

A little while later, after Dottore was sure you both had dozed off, he sighed at the sight that was mostly covered in darkness, but he could still make out his child self's body wrapped by your larger one... as well as the rather wide and palpable gap in between his and his segment's.

Briefly turning over, the Harbinger glanced at the time. It would be time for him to return to his work soon, this break only a haven you begged to grant him. Dottore looked back at you, reaching out to caress your cheek, letting out another sigh. He moved his body closer, to where his own was only a little bit from touching Zandy's, and then wrapped a protective arm over you, and by extension, the child.

He would be gone soon enough, anyway - this wouldn't hurt for now.

It was moments like this that made what the future held hurt even more.

[thanosscross]

Unsuspected hero - Choi Su-Bong/Thanos x reader

Summary: You hated Thanos, with a passion, so what happens whenever you're trapped in death games with him?

Summary: Thanos being an ass, him attempting to kill you for a second ><

Saying you hated Choi su-bong was an understatement, you despised that man, he was your upstairs neighbor, and was the reason you had to take strong as hell sleeping meds. So seeing he was a bunk below you gave you some sort of cockiness but also gave you a sense of even stronger hatred towards him. Standing in the middle of the field waiting for your next green light you felt a presence behind you along with two hands placed on your back, your heart dropped "What if I just..?" Thanos trailed off smirking, liking the way you shivered under his hands, he towered over you from behind to where you could see his shadow over yours, like yours had just vanished "W-Wait!" you whimpered trying to get a better footing, as the doll shouted you smirked, shoving your body weight back knocking Thanos onto his ass before taking off "You bitch!" He laughed, already having the full effects of his pills washing over him, while you hated each other, you didn't think he'd even attempt to get you killed like that. Right as the doll shouted out red light a flash of purple passed you knocking you down, you were forced to freeze in an awkward position with your ass in the air to prevent yourself from being eliminated, looking over slightly, Thanos was turned facing you with a stupid smirk on his face "I could so get use to this view" He said smirking as the doll turned it's head again, you took this as your chance to move quickly and grab a handful of his hair "If you wanted it rough, you could've just asked" You smirked before throwing him to the ground before taking off towards the finish, you were so close to the end, when you tripped, falling forward right as the doll's head turned to face everybody, that's whenever you froze mid-air, player 388 held onto your jacket tightly, not wanting to watch someone like you die like this.

"Let her fall!" You heard Thanos shout, you rolled your eyes, rushing to the end as soon as you were okay to, getting back into the room was an experience, everybody was panicked and Thanos was on a mission to piss you off.

You stood waiting to vote, watching as the others voted either to stay or to go, thats whenever two hands grabbed you holding you in place while Thanos walked up, this was different and it was too much, headbutting the person behind you to get away, Thanos was quick to grab you in a bear hug "where ya goin? Listen you're going to do what you're told, like a good girl, and vote to stay, got it? I'd hate to have to kill someone with such a nice body" He pouted looking at you, you tried to fight back to get away, but unlike the last guy, Thanos was taller, and stronger. "Let me go!" You shouted trying to fight back against him, he sighed letting you go, motioning that he'd be watching you. As your number was called you went to approach but Thanos stopped you "Vote x...I swear I'll fucking kill you" He threatened, you tried to shake it off, rolling your eyes "Fuck off, shrimp dick" you huffed walking up the isle looking at the buttons, hovering over the X before pressing O, trying to rush to the side as fast as possible, it wasn't that you were scared, but..what if he did kill you?

When lights out came, you couldn't sleep, focusing on any sounds, now wishing you were the one under Thanos's bed. You heard his cross necklace pop open and you couldn't help but scoff "Addict" You muttered, you turned to try and sleep, but jumped to see Thanos's face right next to yours "repeat that" He demanded, you just turned the other way "No. Fuck off shrimp dick, take more of your pills, ya know I'm sure our landlord would love to know whats in your little necklace" You threatened, he just laughed leaning closer to you "It's cute that you think I care baby" He smirked, you just closed your eyes tighter, thinking to yourself how badly you just wanted him to go back to his bed. "Aww did the feisty fire die out, princess?" he mocked laughing, you tried hard to calm your breathing to make it appear like you were sleeping, he continued for about an hour before finally leaving you alone.

The next game was even harder, finding a team whenever everybody had already found one was difficult, for a moment you thought Thanos would actually help you, but instead he told you to fail miserably and get shot in the leg, if you remembered correctly. The next voting cycle? hell. You were determined you didn't care about Thanos, you wanted to leave, so whenever it was revealed you'd be staying, you immediately curled up into bed, lights out went just like the night before, you heard Thanos's necklace pop, and his breathing getting closer, you could tell he was standing by your bedside again "Didn't I say..I would kill you if you voted to leave?" He asked, you didn't reply with a snippy comment though, you couldn't help it, but you busted out into tears under your blanket, you felt like a little girl again at a terrible sleepover, you just wanted to go home.

Thanos wasn't sure what to do, yea he hated you but he hated when chicks cried, it was really weird. You just kept crying, and for a minute, he felt something that wasnt hate towards you, he wanted to ask what was wrong. It wasn't really that he hated you, he was actually really into you at one point, but after you got him fined for noise disturbance, you guys' hatred for each other just started to grow. He had decided he was going to ask, but instead, all that came out was "Seriously? a crybaby too? Grow up" He scoffed, you just flipped him off trying to hide yourself more under the covers "Hey, why don't you leave the young lady alone, like she asked" A man asked, someone who you knew as number 1, you just stayed under the covers, hoping everybody would just leave you alone, but they just continued "I know her. so why don't you leave us alone, old man" Thanos snapped, you curled up tighter "Miss, My name is Young-il, just shout if you ever need a thing" He offered, you heard soft footsteps recede away "Fucking grandpa, get the hell away from my hard work" You heard Thanos whisper, at this point you just wanted get eliminated. "Stay the fuck away from him" You heard Thanos growl before giving you a slight shove, you huffed, never saying a word to him, just hoping you could go home tomorrow.

The next day wasn't any better, it started off with a nasty argument with fucking Thanos, and now you're on your own playing mingle, a game based on finding people to pair with. "Looks like this is your last game, y/n, so sad, byee!" Thanos cheered as the platform spun, him and Nam-Gyu dancing in a circle, that's whenever words from last night in your head, making eye contact with Thanos you huffed "Young-Il! Young il!" You shouted frantically starting to search for him, your search ending rather quickly whenever a hand grabbed your arm gently "Y/n, hey I'm right here" You heard him say stopping you from moving away and losing track of him "Are you in need of a team?" He asked softly, looking around for any team that was near that seemed concerned with you "Y-Yes, actually" You frowned, he just smiled, taking you by the hand to the others.

Thanos watched from a distance, his fists clenching, almost losing his temper whenever he saw Young-Il put his hands on your waist to keep you from falling over, you played about three rounds with young- il and his friends before it got complicated. "Two players" The speaker shouted "You guys go together theres enough, I'll find someone" You assured, Young Il stopped looking at you "Are you sure?.." He asked worriedly "Yes! Just go!" You yell, looking around, panic started to wash over you, most of the rooms were full and it looked like everybody found somebody. You froze, ready to hear the timer go off and to be put out of your misery, but somebody grabbed you forcefully throwing you into a room "Are you trying to die!?" You heard a loud voice boom at you, flinching back into the corner you spotted familiar purple hair, and most of the fear left "I had myself handled!" You shouted back getting up and shoving him harshly "You dick!" you shoved him again, going to throw a punch, but he just caught your wrist "I saved your life, you ought to thank me, damnit" He growled, you just rolled your eyes "Yea like I'd thank someone as shitty as you!" You snapped trying to free your wrists, he just held on with what seemed like ease. For moment it seemed like your comment actually hurt him, but he quickly pushed it down "Fine then. Be a bitch" He huffed jiggling the handle of the door trying to somehow get it to unlock faster, you felt bad, he did just save you, he could've left you for dead. "Thank you.." You sighed quietly approaching his back slowly "I..I appreciate you doing what you did" You continued, he turned around smiling "R-really?" he asked excitedly "Uh..yea" You replied, not really understanding why the sudden excitement towards talking to you.

You went back to the room that night, curling up on your bed like usual, but this time, Thanos was early, his face slowly appearing in front of you from below "You feeling okay?" he asked, you stared at him taken aback "Not that you care" You huffed, closing your eyes "I do....actually. I don't want you to be upset and cry again..I didn't like it" He tried to explain, but you just hushed "Yes I am so sorry I'm a crybaby and I did something the almighty thanos doesn't like" You huffed "No! That's not what I meant, Y/n please" He whispered resting a hand on yours that was under the covers, you sighed, deciding you could at least look at him "You're not a crybaby...okay maybe just a little bit, but you're also like...a chick" He explained before awkwardly hugging you whenever he saw the tears start to build up in your eyes again, you knew something weird was going on with him, but you couldn't tell why. "I want to go home" You whispered nervously, leaning closer into his touch, not realizing how badly you needed a hug until just then. "All you can do is hope..." He whispered holding you gently, you didn't speak for the rest of the night, just allowing Thanos to stay standing next to your bunk, hugging you gently or resting his head on his hands while he spoke to you.

Whenever you woke up, Thanos was still up by your bed, he just had his side to you, talking to Nam-Gyu, as you slowly sat up, Thanos was quick to notice you, turning slightly to face you with a smile "Senorita! You're awake!" He cheered happily, grabbing your hand in his as he pulled you out of the bed "I was wondering when you'd be awake!" He smiled brightly, hugging you as tightly as possible "I was sleeping because a purple haired asshole kept me up all night" You huffed grumpily, crossing your arms "Ooo senorita is feisty in the mornings, I like it" He smirked nudging you slightly as you walked towards the end of the breakfast line "Please shut up" You mumbled rubbing your forehead in annoyance "Come onnn, you love me, senorita!" He cheered, you wouldn't admit it, not for a few more months but you did, you loved him more than he could ever know.

--

You like?

also I'm sorry lovelies for the drop in fics lately, I've been having slight issues with my mental health and job, but I promise more fics are coming <3 Excited to hear from you lovelies!

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Taglist!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou-0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@seunghyunwifey

[dear-aubade]

Oh my good God your writing is absolutely fabulousssss 🤤 The way you write about Joel and his baby girl is sending me into orbit!!! Genuinely I cannot wait to read more of your work 😍 Do you think that you would ever do one where Joel comforts his baby if she got jealous? There’s a few different ways this could go but the idea of him comforting his sweet girl when she’s upset over something like seeing another woman in Jackson hit on him or something makes me think terrible, nsfw thoughts 😆🩷🎀

This was so fun to write, thank you for the ask anon! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: When you see a woman making a move on Joel and storm out in a flurry of tears, Joel realizes exactly how much he’s been neglecting his baby. He’s determined to make it up to you.

Notes: Smut, oral (f receiving), dom!joel, sub!reader, praise, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, babygirl, little girl, honey, darling, any fanfic-typical nickname Joel has for reader), jealous!reader, oblivious!joel (sorta), semi-public, implied age gap

You were fuming.

It was Tommy’s birthday and Maria had decided to invite the entire town of Jackson to the Tipsy Bison that night to celebrate. The bar was lively with the hum of chatter and small talk, the smell of whiskey and beer curling in the air, paper lanterns hung in a zig-zag pattern across the ceiling.

Normally you would have loved to go out like this. It gave you an excuse to dress up all pretty and do your makeup, maybe even get Joel to abandon his stone-faced stoic facade and go dancing with you after he’d had a couple drinks.

Except for the fact that the night had gotten off to a horrible start.

The past few weeks Joel had been busy. Very busy. Which you didn’t blame him for, of course—he was one of the town’s strongest working men and the people needed him to help with patrol. But recently a worker at the Bison had sprained his ankle and Seth had asked Joel to help cover him while he healed, which meant that now Joel was gone during the day for patrol and several nights during the week while he fixed barstools or whatever it was Seth had him working on.

The nights he actually was home, he usually went straight to bed with you after placing a kiss to your lips and gave a murmured, “Goodnight.” You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d touched you, really touched you.

And you knew that Joel was a good man, that the reason he was so exhausted all the time now was because he was doing work for the community.

It didn’t stop his girl from getting a little needy and missing him.

Tonight you had taken advantage of the outing. You’d made sure to do your makeup immaculately, with your lips glossed and eyes lined to make them look all doe-like and pretty, how Joel liked them. You’d curled your hair and pinned the top part of it back in a half-updo with a white satin bow. You’d even worn a new dress that you’d traded for a couple days before. It was baby pink, hugging your bust and waist before flaring out the smallest bit around your hips. The short hem paired with your white heels showed off your legs very nicely.

You’d thought that maybe if you put enough effort into your appearance tonight, Joel would want to touch you no matter how tired he was.

Unfortunately, so much self-grooming had caused you and Joel to be a little late, which meant rushing out the door and speed-walking over to the Bison so you two weren’t more tardy than you already were, which meant there wasn’t time for Joel to appreciate his princess in her pretty dress.

Now that you guys were here at the bar, he was hardly looking at you. His large hand was still holding yours so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t even said anything about how you looked tonight. Did he even care? It made you want to whine and cry or stamp your little heeled foot against the floor until he paid attention to you.

But you didn’t. You wanted to be his good girl…and you didn’t want to ruin Tommy’s birthday, either, by making a scene.

Joel kept craning his neck around to look for his brother, and when he found Tommy and Maria standing at the bar, he guided you over with him with a hand on the small of your back.

“Joel!” Tommy exclaimed, expression bright as he embraced his brother—overly bright. It was clear he’d already had a few glasses.

Joel slapped Tommy on the back. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Tommy,” you said softly right as Maria was thanking the both of you for coming.

“What did you get me?” Tommy asked his brother.

Joel grunted as he put his hand back on your waist. “Right to the point, aren’t you?”

“A book? A shirt? A razor? I’ve been needin’ a new one of those, mine broke just yesterday—“

“Boots,” Joel said. “Traded for ‘em last week. They’re back at the house.”

Tommy grinned. “Awe, now you’ve just ruined the surprise.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Tommy—“

“Oh, that reminds me! There’s somethin’ I need to show you real quick.” Tommy turned to you. “Mind if I borrow him for a few?”

You frowned. “Well—“

Without waiting for a response Tommy dragged Joel away, heading for some unseen destination across the bar. You couldn’t tell where they were going from your position in the crowd. You tried not to wilt.

A moment later Maria handed you a drink. “You look nice,” she commented.

“At least someone noticed,” you grumbled, taking a sip. The alcohol burned your throat.

“Joel giving you trouble?”

You shrugged.

Maria waited for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, she pressed. “I was going to go sit with some friends over there.” She gestured to her right somewhere. “Want to join?”

You sighed, then shook your head. “I don’t think so. Thank you Maria, but I don’t want my mood to infect your guys’.”

“Well…alright. If you’re sure.” And with that, she left you to your own devices.

It had been hours. Or…maybe a half hour. Forty five minutes? You weren’t sure. Enough time for you to have made a home for yourself on one of the barstools with several now-empty liquor glasses in front of you.

And Joel still wasn’t back.

Your toes were starting to go numb in your tight shoes even just sitting there, so you huffed and got to your feet—you only swayed a little. You were determined to find Joel and make him dance with you.

You weaved in and out of the crowd as you searched. Where had Tommy taken Joel? Was it….this way? That way? You couldn’t think very clearly right now. How many glasses had you….?

You finally spotted the back of Joel’s head through the throng of partygoers. Your eyes lit up and you started to move in that direction, ready to tug on Joel’s hand and stand on your tiptoes for a kiss. Why had you even been upset again?

You squirmed between two people to move closer and—

There was a woman beside Joel. She had honey brown hair and keen, wise eyes. She was older than you—much older. Closer to Joel’s age. Her name was Sharon…Shannon…something?

You froze as she laughed at something someone said and put a hand on Joel’s arm.

Your eyes went wide and you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or start crying. Joel suddenly turned his head and met your gaze.

Your body decided for you. Tears pooled on your lashes and you turned to duck out of the bar before you made even more of a fool of yourself.

The crisp, cool night air greeted you as you escaped the Tipsy Bison’s warmth. You sniffled and kept walking, not even really sure where you were going.

“Darlin’?” Joel’s voice reached you and you heard footsteps from behind.

You sped up.

But Joel was Joel, and so he quickly caught up to you with his long legs. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Not now, Joel.”

“Hey.” He grabbed you and turned you around, his grip gentle but firm. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“Get offa me,” you protested, trying to push away.

“What’re you…” He paused. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” you whined. You broke out of his grip and kept walking, turning around the corner of the Bison and walking around the back of the building. “Leave me alone.”

“Baby.”

At his tone you stopped. Even though you were embarrassed and upset and didn’t want to see his face, a small part of you still wanted to be obedient.

He came around your front and lifted your chin so you were looking up at him. His stern gaze melted away and his eyes softened. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Your bottom lip quivered. “What’s wrong?” You sniffled and took a step back. His hand fell away.

“What’s wrong is that you don’t pay attention to me anymore. You work all day and all night and it feels like you hardly have time for me now. I even got all dressed up tonight for you, wore a new dress and everything, a-and you didn’t say anything, didn’t even look—“

You blinked and more tears ran down your face. “And now I jus’ saw Sharon or Shannon or whoever that woman was flirting with you, and you didn’t do anything—”

You cut off as your face crumpled. You looked down, shivering from the cold.

“I know she’s older and…and probably smarter, and she—”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart.” Joel tenderly gripped your upper arms, ducking his head to try and get you to meet your gaze. “What…what are you thinkin’? You think she could ever compare to my babygirl?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he prattled on before you had the chance. “The moment she touched me I pulled away. I don’t know if you didn’t see or what, but…” He shook his head. “Baby, I only have eyes for you. You know that.”

He wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more often. It’s just until Seth’s friend heals up that I’ll be gone. I should be out of bar duty by next week.”

“And what about tonight?” you whined.

At that, Joel smiled. “You really think I didn’t notice how pretty you looked, sweet girl? I was trying not to get a hard on in the middle of Tommy’s party.”

You almost smiled. Almost. But you were still mad about Shannon, and you still felt needy and lonely and you were pretty sure you were way more than tipsy and you still kind of felt like punching Joel in his handsome face a little bit.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry that I made my baby feel alone….and needy…and neglected…” He punctuated each word with a kiss to a different part of your face—your cheek, your nose, your lips.

Now that you were alone, Joel’s eyes roved over your body shamelessly. “Look at you….” he cooed. “So beautiful.” His hands fell to your waist. “And this pretty new dress.” His eyes looked lower, down to your feet, and he grinned. “Your shoes match your bow. You said you dressed up just for me?”

You sniffed and nodded. “M’still a little mad at you.”

“I know, pretty girl.” He kissed your jaw. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

That sobered you up real quick. “Wh….here?”

“Why not?” Joel pressed your back to the wall of the building. “No one’s around.”

“But someone could—”

“Shhh.” He kissed lower this time, at the skin beneath your jaw. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He pressed a kiss lower. “I’m going to make my little girl feel good right here and now so she doesn’t have to wait another minute.” Another kiss. “After that I’m gonna carry her back to our bed….” Another. “And there I’m gonna make love to her until she gets absolutely sick of it.”

You squirmed as his beard dragged along your skin the lower and lower he kissed, lips now at your collarbone. “I-I don’t know if I’d ever get sick of it….”

He nipped at your skin and you gasped. “Then you had better have enough energy to be up all night, sweetheart.”

Joel kissed down the center of your clavicle, the middle of your breasts, down your tummy over your dress….soon he was kneeling before you, looking up to meet your gaze with those dark brown eyes of his.

“Joel—” you said, still a bit uncertain.

“Lean back against the wall, babygirl.”

You hesitated, but obeyed. Any complaints or protests you had against the situation dissolved as soon as Joel lifted one of your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

His lips traveled upward. He kissed along your calf….the inside of your knee…your thigh….soon he pressed the skirt of your dress up to your waist.

He paused.

Then:

“Oh, sweetheart.” It was nearly a groan. His eyes flicked up to yours. “No panties?”

You smiled shyly. The truth was you’d forgotten almost entirely about that—it had been a quick last minute decision to forego wearing anything beneath your dress, but seeing his eyes dark with lust now….you definitely did not regret it.

“I’m a little glad I didn’t have time to look you over properly before coming here,” he murmured, lips skimming your hip bone. “If I knew you weren’t wearin’ anything under this we would have never left the house.”

You could feel his breath on your inner thigh now as he moved his head and you whimpered. “Joel.”

“Shhh, no whining honey, ‘less it’s about how good it feels.” He placed a kiss right above the patch of skin above your bud. “Just let that pretty head of yours empty—I’ll take care of you.”

Whatever you were about to say in response left your head as Joel hiked your leg over his shoulder and started to lick at your clit.

You gasped and one of your hands threaded through his salt and pepper curls to steady yourself. His tongue flicked against your swollen, needy button teasingly. Your lower belly simmered with the heat of crackling coals.

Joel’s large hand found purchase on your hip and he squeezed in response to each noise that escaped you. He was soon embracing you with his full mouth, tongue licking between your folds, at your bud, into you. It was as if he was everywhere, helping himself to your taste and enjoying every bit of it.

“Oh,” you sighed, pushing your hips into his mouth involuntarily and his head bobbed in time with his motions.

Each flick, each twist of his tongue had you nearly writhing, and you were pretty sure it was only Joel’s hand on your hip keeping you from collapsing.

“Joel, I—it’s—oh please, I can’t—” You were babbling mindlessly, head empty, unsure of what you were even really saying.

Joel just chuckled against you, the vibrations running through your core making you gasp.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured as he sucked and licked at your wetness. “‘S like you were made for me—just keep rockin’ your hips—oh, good girl.”

He lapped at you as you let out a high-pitched whine. You were there, right there, with his nose nudging at your clit and his warm wet tongue pushing into you and he was shaking his head and oh—

You bit your knuckle to muffle your moan as you came, your folds drenched, your lower belly warm, your legs shaking, your clit tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Joel kept murmuring praises as you came down from your high, hips squirming from oversensitivity.

He placed soft and slow kisses on your right hip before rising and gripping your waist. Your legs nearly buckled.

Joel chuckled and caught you as you stumbled a bit, sweeping you up in his arms, the ease in which he lifted you making your belly swoop.

He pressed his lips to your hairline in an achingly sweet kiss. “How’s my girl feeling now?”

You let out a happy hum and rested your head on his shoulder. “Better.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he started to walk, carrying you like you were a princess. You supposed that you were, in a sort of way. You were his.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep yet, babygirl.”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d been drifting off until he had said something. It wasn’t your fault. The gentle sway of him walking with you had rocked you to sleep…

“Sorry.” You yawned.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, honey,” he said. He held you closer. “And you gotta stay awake with me. I got a lot more I wanna do to apologize to my princess.”

The low voice he used made your heart flutter.

You were in for a very long night.

[cherry-smokes]

Don’t you want me baby?

AKA Steve doesn’t want you to meet his parents and you start spiraling Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 1.2K Warnings: hurt/comfort because Steve is just too into Sugar to let her hurt too long.

You’ve always known you weren’t a ‘bring home to the parents’ kind of girl. Frankly you took a lot of pride in it. At the end of the day you didn’t want to meet the people who created the assholes you’ve dated before. Them not offering just took the pressure off your shoulders. Relationships were always just a fleeting, sometimes fun thing. Most guys got bored after realizing they prefer to be the rockstar instead of the groupie.

You’ve denied yourself the desire for love for a long time. It didn’t feel tangible before. So why would you plague yourself with the disappointment of not being enough for someone. It was easier to live that way.

Steve made you feel different. Steve made you feel like that part of you which you had locked away for so long finally had a space to run free. That you weren’t an idiot for thinking that there truly was someone out there who would love you unconditionally. It feels too soon to say that but you couldn’t stop the freight train that was Steve Harrington from crashing into the brick wall you had built around your heart.

That’s probably why this all hurts so much.

It hadn’t even felt like a big deal to you at the time.

“I could just meet you at your place?”

“Oh…no, no I’ll come pick you up.”

“You always pick me up, let me drive. I wanna take care of you this time.” it came out teasingly. With that goddamn smile that made Steve’s knees buckle and his heart beat so strong he could feel it all the way up to his shoulders.

“No just- I’ll pick you up”

“Do you think I’m a bad driver or something?”

He chuckled at that. “Considering the fact that Eddie taught you to drive, I’m doubtful of your abilities.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve never gotten a single ticket. So you should let me treat my pretty boy to a night out and let me make him my passenger princess for once.”You grab his face and kiss him sweetly. Teeth against teeth as you both smile, but his fades faster than yours does.

“My parents are home this weekend, you don’t want deal with them.”

“Who said I didn’t want to deal with them?”

“They’re a lot.”

“Well, so am I.”

“I just think it’s better if I pick you up, yeah?”

You’ve never had a smile wiped off your face so fast. You nod and lean away from him.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

Steve makes you feel…soft. Had it been any other guy this would have never bothered you, but Steve wasn’t any other guy. He was someone you had grown to really care for. Someone you actually saw a future with, or wanted to at least. So him not wanting you to meet his parents felt like a bad omen.

If we’re closer to your family, physically and in any other sense, you would have introduced Steve to them in a heart beat. The closest thing you had to that was Eddie and the guys, and Steve had already met them.

So yeah. This was a pretty big fucking deal to you. You know the kind of girls he’s dated before. Prim and proper. The kind of girls who go on to be beauty queens or valedictorians. That never bother you before, but now you’re thinking about every reason why he wouldn’t want you to meet his folks.

Your reputation isn’t…polished. You’re abrasive, and overwhelming to some people. You hang out with ‘freaks’ and you make a living off of playing in dive bars and bartending. None of that really screams ‘life long partner.’

Maybe that’s what he’s looking for. Maybe you’re just a stepping stone for him. Some crazy story he can tell his Wall Street friends one day when he finally decides to give into his father’s wishes.

You wish all of this wasn’t running through your mind right now. Sat on your couch with Steve’s arm around you. You feel tense. Like you don’t really fit next to him. It’s been this way all night. At dinner, in the car, even at the door step to your apartment when he asked if you wanted to watch a movie instead of calling it a night.

You know what’s coming. He’s too attentive to not notice. You’ve seen how he’s cowered into himself all night and the way his eyebrows have drawn together as you brush off his affection.

You don’t want to be cruel, but you get mean when you’re hurt. You’ve never known anything else. You wish you knew a better way to deal with it but you don’t and you can’t look at this man who makes you burn and lie to him like you have to others.

So when he asks you what’s wrong you can’t bring yourself to say it’s nothing.

“Are you ashamed to be with me?”

You feel it then. His arm tenses up and it moves away from around your shoulders as he leans back to look at you.

“What?”

“I know you heard me don’t make me repeat myself.”

He looks genuinely confused. Like he can’t understand why you’re asking this.

“Why would I be ashamed of you?”

“I don’t know Steve, you tell me.”

He looks you dead in the eyes. The weight of his gaze makes you feel heavy, like you’re sinking into yourself.

“I’m not ashamed of you I l-you know how I feel about you.”

You want to believe him. You want to so badly. You want to nod and agree and curl into his side so he’ll kiss your neck and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you forget every horrible thing that’s ever happened to you both. But you can’t.

“You don’t want me to meet your parents.”

“No. I don’t.”

He’s like one of those Greek statues you see in museums. Gorgeous, and strong. The way he says it is…steadfast. One of the loveliest things about Steve is that he is stubborn…now it feels like one of the worst.

You don’t want to cry in front of him. You don’t want embarrass yourself so you choke it down like everything else and turn towards your television screen.

“Ok then.”

You rack through your brain trying to decide if you want to kick him out kicking and screaming or just let him go on his own. Before you can decide, his hand is on your face and he’s turning you towards him. His grip on your chin is tender but strong. Just like him.

“I can see those gears turning in your head. It’s not because I’m ashamed of you.”

Your eye twitches like it always does when you’re confused. He fucking adores it.

“You’re stubborn, and loud, and probably too honest for your own good. You’re…vulgar, and brilliant and you drive me fucking insane and you’re too goddamn good for my parents. They wouldn’t know what to do with you, I don’t know what to do with you but I’m so fucking thankful you’re letting me figure it out. I just want to keep you to myself so I can woo you long enough to not run away when you do meet them.”

Your bottom lip trembles. You’re thankful he doesn’t point out the quiver in your voice when you finally speak up.

“I’m not that stubborn.”

His smile is golden. You let him drag you into him as he presses his lips against yours. You want to savor it and keep him there forever but you can’t stop his hand moving from your chin and grabbing at your hair as he pulls your head back so he can he trail sweet pecks against your cheek and down your neck.

“Whatever you say Sugar.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tiny little angsty blurb for you guys<3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don't know if this was asked already, but I read your post about Sebek and why he has a hatred towards humans/himself. Sebek has been a character I grew to love so I loved seeing this break down (helped me love him a bit more, lol). However, do you think you could further that theory about about the faes and their views on humans? Silver's Bio dad had a blessing from diurnal faes. Could it be that diurnal faes are actually okay with humans and supported humans against the nocturne faes? Why?

[Referencing this post!]

Malleus states in Fairy Gala that, "The fae are no monolithic entity. We come in many different varieties [...] We come in different sizes, and speak different languages. Not all of us get along, either—much like humans, really." Silver clarifies in Fairy Gala: What If that, "The fairies who throw the gala are diurnal, and they fear nocturnal fae." So it's canonical that nocturnal fae and diurnal fae do not get along, though we do not know the reasons as to why other than I guess maybe being fearful due to size differences (as most diurnal fae appear much smaller than nocturnal fae).

I don't think there's anything to suggest that diurnal fae as a whole like humans. The diurnal fae in attendance at the Fairy Gala became hostile and attacked us non-fae for crashing their celebration. They actively did not want to include humans. Furthermore, it is diurnal fae who attack us during events like Vargas Camp. I also want to add that diurnal fae are shown to support their nocturnal fae brethren in several of the battle map sections in book 7. They are often the ones leading us in the correct direction or even providing support by healing us on our journey. Lilia, in return, thanks them and vows to drive off the human invaders for them. This all implies to me that diurnal fae are largely also anti-human.

The major exceptions to this we've been introduced to are the Dawn Knight's three guardian fairies, who are depicted as red, blue, and green balls of light floating around in the air. I assume these must be twisted versions of Aurora's own guardian fairies, Flora, Merryweather, and Fauna. The Dawn Knight is shown often praying to them for strength before combat, and it is these guardian fairies who are responsible for the sleeping curse/blessing cast on Silver to protect him after his kingdom fell into ruin. It's possible that they are the exception and not the rule among diurnal fae. Maybe they felt a certain kind of kinship with the Dawn Knight or are indebted to him in some way; we don't know the exact history of why they chose to side with the Dawn Knight, and I don't think we have enough information right now to theorize as to why they did what they did. However, as I said in another post on this topic, "[wanting] to keep your friend(s) safe does not instantly equate to wanting to harm [nocturnal fae] or [supporting humans] out of spite."

[ervikirvi]

TADC Rambles and Rants: Kinger (TW for Disturbing Images)

Remember when Baron Mildenhall said that he was no longer the protector of his wife and theoretical children?

[ignore the misuse of the word pair, I couldn't find another word for it]

And how we all agreed that the Baron is a pretty obvious parallel to Kinger in the past? Considering that this would've been during the time both Queenie and Kinger were already stuck in The Amazing Digital Circus, and it would've been some time after they arrived, who do you think "theoretical children" were referring to? Because not only that, but it's "children", plural. And again, since this is taking place back in Kinger's past, and I don't believe this is referring to Pomni like a theory channel suggested. No, this is definitely referring to someone way before her time, but who?

If we take a look back at the environmental storytelling of Episode Three, our first clue is a gravestone with the name "Peggy Mildenhall"

Problem is, she died in 2029-2030, WAYYYYYY after the early 2000's, where the timeline supposedly takes place. Unless the game is being restored or something at a later date, this makes no sense. And yet it's there, unless of course we just blame it on the fact that Caine is an AI messing up minor details like AI's do, there might be some importance to this. Another thing to note, Peggy died as a one-year-old, a baby. Which makes it even more strange that she'd be included here at all unless it was Queenie and Kinger's before they entered the circus. OR, the one-year difference is supposed to represent how long the person survived in the circus before abstracting. At this point, I'm grasping at straws, so I'm going to ignore the date but keep it in the back of your mind that there are three Mildenhalls. (Peggy is also a girl's name, keep that in mind later)

Now, pay attention to the pictures on the walls before the adventure starts.

This one piqued my interest the most. A woman (we can assume to be Martha), and two others. The one in the white shirt seems to be younger than the other one, with a chubbier face, and appears to be placed on Martha's lap (notice the arm beside them). I believe this is Peggy. The other one looks to be a bit older, standing up perhaps or just leaning on Martha. With their short hair and pointier chin, I believe they are a boy. With no other reason as to why they have a picture of Martha with two children hanging up in their home, I believe there are now FOUR Mildenhalls.

And now notice the picture on the left whenever Ghostly introduces himself.

One eye and buck teeth? The Pink Cyclops

They even have the same shape of eye; however, the eye color is a little lighter than that of the Cyclops. Whose eye is the same color as the rest of his body. There is a less strong contender on who this could be, but just keep in mind that we'll see a one-eyed creature again.

And now I want to introduce to you someone who I have no clue the identity of.

Since I'm going off of every-picture-has-meaning, I believe they are important too. The figure I assume to be a woman from the long, black hair and small, pointy chin. It's obviously not Martha, so who could it be? Possibly another older child? I wouldn't say that Caine couldn't make a parallel to Kinger's past appear as a dead figure, he did that with Kinger himself. Whatever it is, it appears to be... demonic

Let me show you a few other things that caught my attention, some of which I have no explanation for or are pretty obvious for what they represent.

Originally, I was going to say that this was something related to Queenie because at the beginning where it was first shown the room was dark, and you could only see the left side with the scaly eyeball, and the shape of it made it look like a moth wing. But at the end when everyone is reunited you can clearly see that this is the hide of something. Possibly of the deer skull above it? If so, the Baron did a terrible job. But the fact that is the shape of a strange, squiggly line(?), with a scaly eyeball, and contour lines makes me think it might have to do with The-Worm-On-A-String

A stretch, but still. Could it be Peggy? Or the demon woman from before? How many children did Kinger have???

Looks like to be the Angel, but why did the Baron have them painted and hung up on his wall? In one of the main halls might I add??

Obviously an Abstraction, but of who? Or is it to represent Abstraction in the first place? Another thing to note is that this painting is in the same room with the Cyclops and Demon Woman, could this be telling us that the pictures of the other two are IN-FACT Abstracted characters?

Another one to add after the adventure ended. I believe that they are two Abstractions, on their knees, connected by a branch or a tendril. Strangely, they only have one eye. And they ARE two different Abstractions since the farther one is slimmer with a bigger white dot on its stomach. Keep in mind that there will be a repeating theme of twos and threes.

And now for the adventure:

A skull I could not identify, in a way it reminds me of a bear and canine skull, but incredibly bloated. The eye sockets are also wrong, the right one seems to be higher up to the top of the skull, while the other is more forward. One socket prey, one socket predator, in the same diagonal direction as that of the Angel. Speaking of the Angel, look where it's located.

Right under the Angel's head. Who, coincidentally, has the same eye-diagonal-direction to that of Queenie. Although there are different takes as to what the Angel itself represents, I believe it represents an Abstracted Queenie, or at least, Abstraction in some way or another.

Skulls in The Bible represent mortality and the nature of Life and the inevitability of Death, something that the Abstracted know all too well. Minor rant over, just know that Queenie will be a part of this. And the skull-skeleton-bone whatever WILL make a minor comeback! 

//Minor appearance of two people, one being built like Bigfoot and the other, possibly a woman, carrying a dark object in her arms, or having her arms wrapped around something, a dog, perhaps.

The Boiled One The painting beside the stairs resembles the Demon Woman, but de-faced, bloody, and crying blood. You can tell it's her from the eyes, nose, pointy chin, and smile. Interesting that she got more demonic since the adventure started, and that she's looking directly at the staircase that is walled off with brick. Preventing Pomni and Kinger from going back upstairs to the rest of the group, while she was also the one right beside the Scary Door. Almost like the painting is sentient somehow.

Enough about the Demon Woman, this is where things start to connect: [Heads up from the future, I went crazy after describing things that you can just see with your own eyes, just skip to the third photo. Still keeping it in here for those who are curious]

A missing pair of three, two ghostly women looking out hauntingly. And a singular entity that looks to be on its own page, less human than the others. One woman stands out with a crooked neck, and we can vaguely tell that she has a dark set of hair. The other, with a more neutral expression, has a light set of hair. The three men, two dark beards one light, interestingly have X's over their eyes. This is the point where I want to mention that these figures could just represent friends that have Abstracted. After all, these do seem to be the victims of God's Angel. A reason for the Baron to go after it, a reason for Kinger to protect his family from it, whatever it is. Another Side Rant: If God's Angel represents someone who Abstracted or Abstraction in general, the early players may not have known that they were Players. And that they were viruses or demonic creatures that Caine put in to torture them. And when Queenie Abstracted, that's when Kinger realized, or after attacking the beast who "killed" his wife he realized it WAS his wife, and thus that heartfelt reunion in the Pillow Fort. That's why Queenie held no grudges, she knew Kinger was just trying to protect everyone else.

"And I ended up shooting the love of my life, mistaking her for the creature. It's ironic, isn't it? In my attempts to protect her, I ended up becoming the monster myself." -Baron Theodore Mildenhall

BUT I'M NOT DONE [Just a heads up, I went nowhere with this]

BECAUSE I BELIEVE THE CROOKED NECK LADY IS QUEENIE. OR MARTHA WHO KNOWS, IT ALL LEADS BACK TO QUEENIE IN THE END SO WHO CARES? A REPRESENTATION OF A REPRESENTATION IS STILL A REPRESENTATION BUT ^2. This entire thing is me grasping at straws, so why not more? She's wearing a robe, and her hands look to be detached. Also, messed up neck? Queens have quite a history of neck and head trauma (ever heard of King Henry VII? /j) Why is Martha revealed to be dead already? I don't know, the figure behind her also has a chubby face, could it be Peggy? Are we circling back to Peggy now? Is this the baby but as a teenager because they're shorter than Martha? Is the one-year difference just how long they survived in the circus? Why do they have light hair? Can't be the Demon Woman because they also have dark hair. But guess what, according to Google baby hair can in fact get lighter as they grow older. Ghost-white hair though? I don't know. If it isn't Peggy, then how many HYPOTHETICAL children did Kinger and Queenie have????? Am I going to get anywhere with this?

The only photo I want to note here is the last one with the creature. A black, gangly creature with two heads although the left arm looks to have an eye on it. Abstraction representation anyone? (Also why was the Baron taking photos of his own Manor???)

This is where the connecting starts happening

The one-eyed figure returns. Another hint that the Cyclops might be one of Kinger's children (if you completely forgot that was the point of this post, I don't blame you) HOWEVER, he does look like another character. One that is purple with spikes.

It is almost an exact match, even down to the highlight in his eye and the pink spike on his head. Only thing different is the black lines, suggesting tension, on the pink spike, which looks more like a flower petal. And having a full set of teeth. Strangely, it's a picture of only their side, which the Cyclops picture also does:

The Cyclops picture, actually being the Whatever-It-Is makes a little bit of sense since they have a lighter iris, a prominent bucktooth, and matches more with the body color. The only problem is, Whatever-It-Is has a snout, this guy does not. They look like a cyclops with Whatever-It-Is's coloring.

The other elephant in the room is the high-looking dog thing that also reminds me of a muppet. A sock puppet. A dog sock puppet that looks like none of the two characters who would fit that bill.

It has piercing, blood-shot eyes while being as pale as a ghost, it has to be one of them. Unless Caine has forgotten what they look like, or Kinger? At this point, I'm ready to throw my towel in and just say that the Whatever-It-Is and the Cyclops are the children, if I didn't know that it continued.

Slithers A snake-like creature can be spotted on the shelf, a GREEN snake. A green, worm?

guess who's part green

And to top it all off?

Queenie's there too. A spider on a green web. If this entire episode is on Kinger's past, and everything so far represents someone, then Queenie is a bug. If she's not the Angel, then she's a bug. Unbeknownst to Kinger, the entire family was reunited in some messed up way. Not only that, but Martha's portrait is on the bottom left-hand screen. And you want to know what's even better?

DO I NEED TO SAY MORE? Not ONLY that, but the ANGEL is RIGHT THERE TOO, with the caption "IT'S IN ME". And TO CONTINUE, there is a hole on the abstraction page, with black blood splattered over the Angel and gibberish note. ALMOST LIKE A GUNSHOT???

The Angel being some sort of parallel-representation-whatever of Queenie, would make sense as to WHY it ONLY started to attack Pomni and Kinger AFTER Kinger killed the fly. Could it be a parallel (I'm getting sick of this word) to a struggling fly caught in a spider's web only alerting the spider after thrashing around in its web? (Pomni and Kinger, Kinger specifically, struggling to kill the fly, and making a whole lot of noise when he does?) Or could it just be that she was pissed that he killed a fly in the first place? MAYBE THAT'S WHY SHE WENT DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE OF ABSTRACTING, KINGER KILLED SOMETHING FROM HER INSECT COLLECTION!

Anyways, REMEMBER THE SKULLS?

THREE FLOWERS, TWO SKULLS, THREE PAIR TWO PAIR. And who has the third skull? QUEENIE, because EVERYTHING COMES BACK TO QUEENIE. 

//Queenie died and took the children with her istg

But two children and one parent don't fit the pattern we've been seeing. Where's the Demon Woman? Where's the Worm? Who is Peggy? Who are their children??

I think the answer lies in that first photo:

A woman, Martha. Queenie. And two children, a boy and a baby girl. Originally I went into this wanting to prove that Dobby was their son, but it looks like there's more evidence for Whatever-It-Is being their son than him. So that's who the little boy in the picture represents. The girl, however, I have two answers:

The girl is Pomni, hypocritical of me since at the start I said. "And again, since this is taking place back in Kinger's past, and I don't believe this is referring to Pomni like a theory channel suggested."

And I also said that I believed the baby to be Peggy, who also only lived for one year. However, the time difference doesn't necessarily mean she was one year old, she could've been born (joined) a week before New Year's or a few months before New Year's. And escaped the circus (died) at the beginning of the new year. The baby could represent a new child in their life, some more recent, Pomni.

OR

The baby is the Worm-On-A-String, which would be a more satisfying answer since this IS supposed to take place in Kinger's past. Also, very multi-colored children, seem fitting. (she also looks like a Peggy)

But if the Worm-On-A-String isn't the baby, then she's the Demon Woman. I mean, worm--snake? Close enough. The funny thing is her getting more demonic as time goes on. First, she appears beside the Scary Door, as if she's hiding or has something to do with its contents. The next time we see her she's looking at the stairwell, smiling, almost like she's curious to see their reaction to the stairs being bricked off. Like she knew it was, maybe even was the one who did it. This also forces them into doing the adventure and forces the events of the entire episode to take fold.  Although she does not appear demonic, rather, she appears curious about the situation. Funny how an entire plot point of this episode was the demon being revealed as one of God's Angels. Two skulls, three flowers. Maybe the skull underneath the Angel's head wasn't to say that Queenie had the third skull, the Worm's skull, but rather that she and Kinger are the skulls, and their children are the flowers. A set of two, and a set of three. Two parents, and three children. It would make a lot of sense for the Worm to be one of their children since there are two girls and one boy.

But if we say that the Worm-On-A-String is Peggy, then who is the Demon Woman? Could it be perhaps Pomni because she gets possessed? But this takes place before Hell, and we're trying to stay timeline-consistent here. Who is the Demon Woman? They may be another Abstraction that we haven't looked at yet, one with too much of a blurry door to tell what it is. Or maybe the Demon Woman isn't a woman at all, but rather a lingering presence in Kinger's past that started all of this. Perhaps they are the first Abstraction, when they realize they can, in fact, die. They may not be an actual person, they may just be Abstraction itself, but it would explain why they get a humanoid figure. A representation of Death.

Perhaps the Worm-On-The-String is both Peggy and the Demon, first to go, first to die. We only see Martha with two children, not three. Maybe the skulls, Queenie having one, represent them all being dead. And the flowers? I'm not quite sure, could be the memories of them, that would explain why Queenie's the biggest. But it's not confirmed if Kinger has any memories of his children. He did say that the memory of his wife once he "has control over", maybe the memories of them are like a candlelight flickering in and out. I genuinely do not have an explanation for them, all of this is speculation and me grasping at straws trying to make a scarecrow out of them.

I believe that Whatever-It-Is and Worm-On-A-String are Queenie and Kinger's children. I don't know about Pomni and I don't know about the Cyclops. Perhaps they were in the "just getting there" stage. Gooseworx did say we will get to learn more about Kinger, and I can't wait to see what I got wrong and what I got right.

//I was going to do another rant on Kinger's realization with Queenie, but if you couldn't tell I hit the maximum number of pictures I'm allowed to use, so that will be for another time.

[iconicname]

Yeah

Always think about that scene where lucifers mother tells him that instead of being sent to hell, God wanted to kill him.

And while she clearly had her own motivations for telling him this (to get lucifer angry enough to get revenge)

So whether or not she was straight up lying for bending the truth, what gets me is how fast lucifer believes her. That belief doesn't come out of nowhere. Which never gets addressed ever again???

Though you could argue that that belief came from sending lucifer to hell indefinitely (which is just if not more cruel because c'mon) Netflix lucifer has a lot of canonical self hatred and implied suicidal ideation (plus his "devil form" which supposed to be a reflection of how he subconsciously see himself)

Coupled with the fact that we've never been given any indication whatsoever of the actual events that led to lucifer being sent to hell other than a vague "rebellion" and a something about Michael manipulating lucifer (which feels like a cop out but whatever)

uppermost with how in the show (bcs comic lucifer is a completely different dude) lucifer is extremely pacified, sure he makes scary faces and will get violent every now and then but nothing about him screams "diety who committed a sin so grave and horrific and showed no sign of stopping that the only option was to banish him to a place so dreadful that the goddess (a being who should effectively be God's equal) feared going back" painting a picture that lucifers punishment was not necessary or just.

And speaking of the goddess or Charlotte ig, she was also sent into hell. And I get the reasoning that it's because she kept causing mass death to humanity, which might seem justified from a human perspective, but to her, God, and her children this is the equivalent to sending her son to Diyarbakır Prison because he said "no" to you or challenged your authority some way. And then later, sending your wife to the same place because she knocked over your ant farm that you were investing more time than into your family.

Because both Lucifer and Charlotte have shown to be good people. Sure they're a little fucked up and have a tendency to use underhanded methods to get what they want but they're motivations while sometimes misguided are rarely malicious.

Charlotte was introduced a big scary figure (let's not forget how wary and downright scared of her he was initially) but she's really a hurt (rightfully so) ex spouse who wanted to get back at God for what he did to her (and lucifer bcs that scene in hell with dead uriel proves that she does love her kids she probably has trouble expressing affection in a straightforward way a trait that was either worsen or caused because of stay in hell) her method of revenge was likely the only thing that could save her herself too because lets be real, everytime both lucifer and her were on earth they both had angels coming down to bring them back to hell through extremely violent means. (I don't care if they were apparently "misguided" every angel that came after them wholeheartedly believed that what they were doing was justified and were pretty damn sadistic about it, too. that belief didn't come from nowhere)

From episode fucking one, it's unsaid, but we establish lucifer as a character who has already had his redemption (and this is through the assumption that he was more "evil" before the show starts) the whole plot with Delilah, someone who made a deal with lucifer to become a star but ended up a addict and involved with shady people. She was at her lowest when she asked she owed lucifer (I think about this a lot bcs I believed she assumed that whatever lucifer would ask of would either be something she couldn't give or something she wouldn't want to) lucifer said to "get her life together" as payment, thus giving Delilah a second chance at life.

Again this is episode fucking one, one of the things I hate about the show and fandom is it portrays Chloe and Lucifers relationship as "the awful misguided evil who is tamed, saved, guided by the second coming incarnate" everytime lucifer has growth as a person the credit is given to Chloe like she did something or just being around her gives you heaven points instead of the reality "lucifer holding Chloe in such high esteem because he's falling in love with her that he bends himself backwards to make himself into someone she would approve of"

because that would acknowledge that God was wrong, that lucifer didn't grow because of his interference, not in fact he did all the work himself (reconciling with a sibling who was hostile for a long time, forgiving his mother for being a bystander, even going to therapy like srsly bro is stronger than me).

And this is why they have God coming in acting like some goofy harmless guy because the narrative established that lucifer doing good thing = Chloe doing "miracles" and since Chloe was directly made by God thus put in lucifers path, it means Lucifer's "redemption" and happiness is on account of god.

That's why everyone is so easy with him. Lucifer is hurt and mad and God is like "but a gave you Chloe ☝️😊 aren't so much happier now?" And "lucifers like damn ur right, all is forgiven!" Chloe's the same way.

And since he's literally God the same goes for every other character for whatever reason or another he's essentially bribed every character to like him and has been playing a long term honeymoon phase (cycle of abuse) with lucifer. lucifer has essentially lost his support system which makes me grind my teeth.

OP you're especially right about Linda because Lucifer specifically made himself vulnerable to her about his traumas, self-esteem, self hatred and so much more to her and for her to say that to him must be gut punching, because she essentially invalidated everything he expressed to her 🫠

Honestly, to me, Lucifer Netflix as a whole has a lot of trouble validating lucifer as someone who was hurt. They love to hammer on his flaws (which makes sense since it started as a series about growth) but when it comes to his trauma, self-hatred and or when he's hurt by another character it gets brushed aside or mentioned once and never again.

Take for example the early seasons with Chloe and Lucifer first developing their partnership it it always delves into a series of misunderstandings, Chloe being a no-nonsense person and lucifer doing everything out of the box. What usually happens is that lucifer steps out of line Chloe will lash out (verbally) and lucifer goes "I don't understand your point I will go to Linda about it" wakiness ensues and by the end of the episode Lucifer has learned some kind of life lesson.

But the thing is that Lucifer is a character who's so genuine with his actions and is worldview is vastly different from hers in so many ways, he always means well so when Chloe says hurtful things (I'm not berating her for this it's completely understandable from her perspective) it's never acknowledged later, no "Hey I was wrong" or "sorry for calling you that" or maybe a "I should have taken you seriously"

It's such a miniscule aspect but it's brushed aside. Same thing with the whole poison situation there's little remorse and Chloe gets to handle the consequences on her terms.

Its like that with every situation really, any character (but mainly chloe) gets to stomp all over him and he's never allowed to fight back or they get "proven right" .

the most annoying part of lucifer on netflix is that he was literally right the whole time. i don't give a shit if the literal actual god was "just trying his best." lucifer was 100% right to be angry at god and in fact, i think everyone should've been downright pissed when they met him. ESPECIALLY linda. fuck her for real for telling him that his conflict with god was partially his fault. lucifer described an abusive father to her countless times and the second she met him she started fawning over him? fuck that. chloe should've punched god in the face

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler Evidence Every Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 9: The Van Drawing . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

This is yet another piece of evidence that can probably be argued against with the phrase: 'Not everything is intention!!!' UHHHH maybe not everything but this definitely fucking is. Positioning shots in film is literally a language, it's there to tell viewers things that can't be said with words like books can. If byler is not endgame I will personally write to the directors like WHAT IS THIS???

As you can see here, this is an obvious attempt at showcasing what the characters are thinking without them being able to say it. It's right in front of our eyes and is very literal.

El is placed in front of the girl drawing, and Mike and Will are placed exactly where the thought bubble is. So she's thinking about them. DUH. ITS SO THERE ITS RIGHTTHEREGUYS....

They extend this even further, emphasising that it's El who is in the place of the girl, by having this shot with the thought bubble literally coming out of her head:

A face-on shot like this isn't very common, especially when a character is talking to another person. Also, the thought bubble looks like the one that Millie drew herself while the one with the very long extended shot (the first pic) looks different. They cut back to this shot three more times (a total of FOUR):

So when El originally draws on the van, she's doing it describe Max (who is represented by the girl in the middle) and the fact she will go inside her mind as well as Vecna (both represented by similar looking stick figures on the right). When she draws on it first, it looks like this:

The camera here is zooming in. If the camera kept zooming in, the thought bubble of the two men would not be right of Mike and Will so they literally had to redraw it so that it would be, clearly meaning that it's very intentional.

Already, this shot had indicated that byler would be together, but paired with the fact that they put this much effort into emphasising it to the audience. They just wanted this little hint that badly.

What does this drawing suggest? It could suggest that El knows something about them, maybe, she might have noticed them changing after her time in the lab, who knows. All I know is that there is no reason to place them in this shot in this way without it hinting at the outcome of the show.

Now it really makes sense why she didn't talk to Mike after the love monologue. Either because she knows he's lying (she's slammed the same door after being lied to before) or because she's realised she never needed him to say I love you.

[hotchs-bitch]

Cold December Night- Part 2

Old saint Nick has taken flight With a heart on board so please be careful Each year I ask for many different things But now I know what my heart wants you to bring

“Okay, just tell me one more time. Why do you think this is going to work?”

Hotch sighs at your question, undoubtedly tired of you asking it every fifteen minutes while the two of you drive to your family Christmas. He drums his index finger against the steering wheel, obviously trying to come up with a reason he hasn’t given you yet.

“Think of it as going undercover,” he advises. “It’s like we’re in the field together. We’re a team with a common enemy.”

“A common enemy? Sure, if you also have a grudge against my Aunt Marnie when she’s drinking eggnog punch.” 

“Look,” Hotch starts, and you hold back a sigh of your own. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy, but we can make it work. Let’s just get our stories straight; I’ll need to learn about your relationship. How did you and Marcus meet? What do they know about him?”

You look down at your lap, fiddling with your bracelet. “We met online, but I told them we met through friends. They don’t really know anything about him, though.”

One of Hotch’s eyebrows raises, making your stomach flip at the disbelieving look he’s giving you. “Do they know his job? His age? Where he lives? Anything about him?”

“He was… between things, okay? I covered his bills, and he said he would start looking for a job in January.” You don’t have to be a profiler to see Hotch’s jaw twitch. “They don’t know anything else, really. Honestly, you probably don’t even have to lie to them. You can just talk about your own life for the most part, they won’t know the difference and it’ll be easier to keep our story straight.”

That was entirely selfish of you to suggest, but Hotch doesn’t give any indication that he’s caught on to an ulterior motive. 

“So… you want me to say that my name is Marcus and that I don’t have a job. And otherwise, you think I should be myself. Is that correct?”

“Okay, well, you don’t need to say it like that, like I forced you to come with me,” you huff, peering at Hotch out of the corner of your eye. “But other than that stuff… yeah. Just be yourself.”

You could kick yourself for the way your voice softens; if he hasn’t noticed anything yet, that was almost certainly a glowing neon sign screaming ‘HEY, I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU’. But Hotch just nods in understanding and keeps his eyes on the road as you settle back into your seat.

“Alright. I will,” he promises, and you lapse into silence as he keeps driving. 

How the hell are you supposed to make it through this weekend?

—

A few hours later you’re finally starting to approach the house, with Hotch steering the car down the snowy driveway.

“Marcus,” he says like he’s reminding himself. “My name is Marcus, and I don’t have a job.”

“You’ve got it,” you assure him, taking a deep breath to calm your own racing heart as the car pulls to a slow stop. There’s no time to focus on how pathetic his summary of your ex makes you sound. “Ready?”

Hotch looks uncertain now, like he’s realized that he’s currently in the driveway of your childhood home, but he nods. “Of course.”

Before you can answer, or panic, he gets out of the car and approaches your side, opening the door for you. When you give him a surprised look, he holds out a hand to help you out of the car. “They’re probably watching already,” he murmurs, and you’re sure he’s right. Your family is probably pressed against the living room window right now, shoving one another aside to get a view of your boyfriend.

“Go inside,” he encourages, his voice still low and smooth as you stand up and he keeps holding your hand, “Go say hi to everybody. I’ll grab our bags and I’ll be right behind you.”

Your hand falls from his a moment later, and he lumbers to the trunk of the car to grab both suitcases while you start for the door of the house.

The door is hardly open when two arms are flung around you, and your sister greets you excitedly. “Hey! Come in, come here. Is he bringing your stuff in?”

You hug her back, stepping into the foyer. “Hey. Yeah, he is, he’s just…”

Glancing out through the open door is a mistake. Hotch is pulling his suitcase out, and already has yours tucked under one arm. He must feel your eyes on him, because he glances up and gives you a smile that feels so genuine that you almost believe it to be real.

Maybe this was a mistake. Your heart is aching, seeing him carry your luggage into the house. There’s nothing you want more than to be introducing him to your family for real, to be with him for real. To say ‘This is Aaron, my boyfriend.’

But you can’t do that, and a flutter of conversation breaks you out of your reverie. 

“Honey, where should I put these?” The sound of the word ‘honey’ coming from Aaron Hotchner’s lips should be downright illegal, and it makes you buffer while your sister swoops in.

“This is him?” She asks, inspecting him with a critical eye. You can’t blame her, not with your romantic track record, but you still don’t want to let her stare him down until he gets uncomfortable and wants to leave.

“Yeah, this is Aaron, my boyfriend.” Oops. “Can you give him some space, please?”

And holy shit, you’re bad at fieldwork. Aaron thinks so too, if the look he gives you is any indication, but he doesn’t say a thing about your Freudian slip.

“Aaron,” your sister parrots, but she steps back all the same. “Wasn’t your name Marcus?”

“It’s my middle name,” Aaron lies smoothly, setting down one bag to shake your sister’s hand as he jokes, “She only uses it when I’m in trouble. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too. Hey mom, they’re here!” She calls out, and your mom comes out of the kitchen wearing an apron and a cautious smile.

“Hi, sweetie… and hello, Marcus. It’s nice to meet you,” she says, but it’s a little too cordial to be genuine.

“Aaron, please ma’am, if you don’t mind. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you,” Aaron adds, holding out his hand again. There’s a hint of an accent in his voice, one he usually keeps from slipping out. But right now, it seems like he’s got his old southern charm turned all the way up and it’s oozing out of his voice too. “I can’t wait to try those Christmas cookies. She’s been raving about them for the last hour.”

And that southern charm just might be working; your mom is already looking more at ease while she shakes his hand, barely blinking at the abrupt name change.

“Oh, thank you, Aaron, you’ll love them. Do you need someone to help get the bags up the stairs? I can call for one of the men,” she offers, then glances at you when Aaron shakes his head. “The two of you can stay in your old room, I assume.”

And, oh, that is really not good. But there’s no way you could possibly argue now.

“Definitely. It’s on the second floor, babe, I’ll show you where.” You reach for a suitcase, but Aaron gives you a teasing smile and pulls it out of reach. “Hey, let me help!”

“I’ve got it, really,” he promises, brushing a kiss to your temple that sends a spark through your body. “You just lead the way, and I’ll bring the bags.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you start up the stairs and down the hall, with Aaron right behind you. “This is my room,” you say, pushing the door open and stepping in. The second the door is closed behind Aaron, the playful smile falls off your face.

His face doesn’t fall in quite the same way, but the twinkle in his eyes dulls a bit. “So I don’t have to remember the other guy’s name, at least,” he mumbles.

“Maybe this was a bad idea. We can tell them you’re not feeling well,” you suggest, turning to face Aaron as he sets down both suitcases. “I already screwed up, and we definitely can’t stay here.”

Aaron’s gaze flicks to the bed. It’s a twin bed with a canopy, and purple-blue sheets. “We can make it work,” he promises. “We’re already here. There’s no point in leaving now, especially when I’m just starting to meet them. I’ll win them over, you can relax, and we’ll be out of here in a couple of days.”

He starts towards the door like it’s a done decision, but you catch his arm. “Why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t look at you. In fact, he keeps his focus trained on the ground as he makes his confession. “I don’t want to go home. Jack wanted to spend Christmas with his mother, and I’m not invited in case I have to leave for work.”

And wow, that makes you hurt for him. It also makes your decision an easy one. “Of course we can stay. I’m sorry to hear about that. I'm sure Jack’s unhappy about not seeing you.”

“I told him we would celebrate, the next time he stays with me,” Aaron says, and a small smile tugs at his lips. “Put up a tree, watch movies, bake cookies and leave some out for Santa so he’ll come even after Christmas. We’ve done it almost every year since the divorce.”

The look on his face is soft, warm, and a little sad. “That sounds fun,” you offer, and his smile gets a little bigger. “Let’s get back downstairs. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about us being up here for too long.”

That earns you a snort, and Aaron glances at the twin bed. “They really think we’ve got room to fool around up here?” he jokes, letting you lead him out of your bedroom by the hand, and you just roll your eyes and laugh while you ignore the way his words make your heart race.

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[neo-smpwriterrr]

Last post kind of blew up, so I think it's time for me to make a full post on my take on all this shir going down.

FOR FUTURE REFERENCE: This is before the second crash out stream, apparently that green fuck is gonna drop another stream but because I have a job and life to live unlike this jackass I won't be viewing it till Tuesday at best.

Now to start talking about some of the serious shit, it is my opinion that dream should not be allowed a platform after this. I'm all for freedom of speech and all that shit don't get me wrong but when someone like him as used his platform to manipulate and exploit the minors in his server as well as to intimidate Victims like caitibug. This guy shouldn't be allowed anywhere close to the same audience he used to weaponize them.

It's only a matter of time before the whole server leaks, and the guys already admitted to heinous shit.

Also I find it disgusting that one of his offshore comments made at Tommy was about it Wilbur yelling at him to keep quiet about a possible predator in the server. These pathetic excuses of adults failed everyone in this server and after all these years I think it's time to finally get rid of them.

To any dream stans out there, whether you just liked his manhunt videos or speed runs or still defend the guy. I am not here to shame you or anything like that, if anything I understand the position your in right now. I don't feel comfortable completely shitting on dream stans because I've also been in a situation where I've idolized a content creator and defended them on every hill. It's hard to see someone for what they really are.

As a kid, from about 11 to 14 I watched skydoesminecraft, he was one of the first YouTubers I watched. It's sad to say it but I really looked up to the guy, he was one of the reasons I wanted to make videos as a kid or just be apart of the YouTuber sphere. In hindsight, I'm glad I wasn't remotely close to any of it. But watching someone I looked up to for years get exposed with damning proof, it was a while different level of disappointment.

So when I see dream stans still defend him, and especially those fans who are obviously kids or at least where younger when they watched him. It's hard for me not so show sympathy.

Who I can't feel any form of sympathy or empathy for is dream, he was a grown man then and he's even older grown man. He knows right from wrong but also knows that doing wrong gets more eyes on him than doing anything right.

Apart from deplatforming the guy, I think we all need to avoid giving him even a second of our attention. Especially since this guy has made it his whole brand to leech off other content creators to take the credit for himself.

As of now, the next stream of this idiots on the horizon. And while i can't tune in anyways because of work and personal stuff. I wouldn't even entertain watching it on his platform. Watch it through clips or reposts, someone's bound to repost it.

And to the many victims of dream over the years, we can really only give our condolences and show support to them. People like Tommy, Jack, Tubbo are just the more vocal individuals. Many people were hurt by this guy and we should all show our support to them, especially Caitibug.

And as I said in my last post about all of this, don't let George and sapnap off with a slap on the wrist for there part to play in this. Those two are equally, if not more guilty of horrible shit, don't let them get off Scott free. Especially George.

With all that being said, I'm gonna go back to working on this rewrite. In all honesty, the more and more I work on rewriting the server, the more I get this shitty taste in mouth about it. I plan on continuing on the Neo smp rewrite but it's gonna take longer. The trio is being written out all together, I also decided to keep this going as a passion project. I'll be posting an update on what I've been working on soon, a new character sheets and worldbuilding is coming soon.

[dollyyun]

hi do you accept constructive criticism?? like, I don't wish to be rude, but I just wanted to point something out:

(please keep in mind that all of this is my personal opinion as a reader)

I noticed while reading that you use a lot of fancy words. while the words do accentuate your writing, i personally feel like you overdo them a little. i have a very short attention span, so I find it harder to read all the words and register their meanings. this causes my brain to skip past most of the said words—which in turn causes me to not be able to grasp the full text.

basically, this is from me personally, and you can ignore this—could you perhaps, use simpler language?? I really love your stories, and the way you write, just minus the extremely fancy language. English isn't my first language, so that just makes it even harder to understand :(

I'm sorry if this sounds rude by any means, I swear it wasn't meant to be so 🙏🏻

i hope you don’t take this the wrong way anon, and i know you don’t have any ill-intention. this is also to the people who feel the same way as anon about my works in general.

frankly speaking, i don’t take constructive criticism. i understand constructive criticism helps writers to improve in their writing and et cetera, but i’m actually not gonna make any changes to my writing. plus, i intend to explore different writing styles in my other works, especially with fantasy themes, and that includes more fancier words.

english is not my first language, but my vocab has expanded due to reading other books and the fact that i often need to write essays so those fancy words in my works came to my mind naturally and this is not to say that i’m glazing myself, but compared to the newbie writer i was in the very beginning with lacking in vocabs, i feel proud of myself for the improvement in my writing now :)

in short, i don’t care if i’m overdo-ing with the fancy vocabs or how horrible my writing is, because at the end of the day, i’m only a fanfiction writer who write for fun and for free, so no, i don’t take constructive criticism about my writing. i’m already liking with the way i write for once, even if there are some people who find my works/writing horrible.

besides, the very reason i decided to come back on here after the unpleasant experience on my previous blog is because i still have the passion to write the stories i want to read, and i made a promise to myself that i’d be doing it all for me first before anyone else. hence, i won’t hesitate to leave again if the passion for writing in me disappears for good.

so i’m sorry anon but i don’t think my works and the upcoming ones are for you. i hope you do find other better works that are suited to your liking.

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter 4: SOUL on my SLEEVE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2.2k+

CW: Supernatural themes, one misgender, angst as in the cute couple argues, brief suggestion of sexual assault

Banner: @saradika-graphics

A/N: Sorry this one is so short. I got tired of looking at it.

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

NICHOLAS

A FEW DAYS AGO

The past few days, he had been searching through the translated hex books to see if there was anything to be done about the Pale Things, or to prevent whatever might come lurking next. Unfortunately, the ones he had translated had mostly been about various methods of scrying or folklore-y ways to cure basic ailments. So he had to start working on the ones that still needed to be translated.

And then he wished he hadn't.

Nicholas did the first thing he could think of. Noah, we need to talk, he projected into the forest.

WHATEVER IT IS, I DIDN'T DO IT.

Nicholas let out a weary sigh, knowing that it would still transfer into Noah's mind. It's not about you for once–

WOW, RUDE.

Do NOT interrupt me. It's about what's causing the disturbances.

There was a moment of silence, in which Nicholas thought to prod, before he got a reply:

BE THERE IN A FEW.

It was more like a minute later when Nicholas heard the tell-tale creaking wood sound of Noah converting into human form, then the sound of him hurriedly walking to the door and opening it. Nicholas looked up just as he heard the clatter of antlers knocking against the doorframe; Noah reeled back and bit out the words, “Ow, fuck!”

“Watch the door,” Nicholas said flatly.

“Every time!” Noah swore once more, ducking his head as he entered. “What’s up?”

Nicholas sighed. “You’re not gonna like the answer.”

“I figured that out already. What did you find?”

Nicholas pointed to the two notebooks on the table in front of him: Granny’s hex book and his translation notes. “Since there’s no nice way to say it, I’m just gonna come out with it. The Stag was sacrificing people for a good reason.”

Those words had the effect he had anticipated on Noah. “What's that supposed to mean?” he growled, eyes nearly turning black.

“The forest needed something to keep it quiet, and the Stag gave it blood: your guys’ blood,” Nicholas explained. “When you took over, you didn't kill anybody ever since we… destroyed the cult. Nothing has been given to the forest, and now the darkness in it is waking up.”

Nicholas watched Noah's face slowly fall. After a few moments, Noah looked back up and quietly pleaded, “There's gotta be another way.”

“I… think I might've found one, but it's a lot more complicated,” Nicholas said.

“More complicated than killing someone?” Noah asked.

“Well…” Nicholas trailed off, then flipped through another hex book to a marked page. “Granny's great-grandmother once was a part of a ritual that was dedicated to the Green King–”

“Another form of the Watcher,” Noah said.

“Yeah, when they worshipped him before they found out the Watcher was in the form of the Black Stag,” Nicholas confirmed. The Watcher of the Woods had many faces in which different groups believed in, but it had been the Black Stag that had held dominion over the Woods for millennia.

And it was the Towering Man who now held the title.

“Alright.”

“Well, she uh… she went with a guy and they… Well, they fucked,” Nicholas said.

The blank face on Noah's was almost comical. “Okay?” he said. "How is that more complicated?"

“Because that guy, who I think might be my great-great-great grandfather, stood in for the Watcher. We don't really need a stand-in when we have the Watcher in a human form.” Nicholas motioned up and down.

“Yeah, well, you're gonna have to find a stand-in, cause no one is gonna want to go near a guy with these things growing out of his skull,” Noah bit out, pointing at the antlers that were nearly at their fully grown point.

“I said it was gonna be complicated," Nicholas said. “And believe me, I would love to fuck Taylor out in the Holler, but I can’t channel you when you're... out there.”

There was a beat of silence, before a diabolical thought popped into Nicholas' head. His eyes snapped up to Noah's at the same time Noah's eyes snapped to his; maybe Noah read his mind, or maybe he came to the same conclusion.

“There is no way–” Noah started.

“They already know about what you are!” Nicholas argued back.

“There's no way they would agree to it!” Noah snapped. “Are you listening to yourself, dude? You're talking about someone else fucking your girlfriend!”

“Partner!”

“Whatever! Just because they have the parts, doesn't mean it'll work!" Noah sucked in a breath. “Find something else. I'm not doing that.”

“And if I don't? It could take ages to go through the rest of the hex books. And we don't have that kind of time.”

Nicholas could almost see the war going on behind Noah's eyes. Nicholas didn't want Taylor to do this either, but if they had no choice? Either Noah kill as innocent person or fucking his best friend's partner?

Noah would have to swallow his pride.

But would Taylor?

TAYLOR

PRESENT DAY

You could hear a pin drop, or a book in my case, as the hex book slipped from my suddenly numb fingers. I caught Noah’s eyes following it. “What– Why me?!” I shouted.

“Told you they wouldn’t take it well,” Noah sighed.

My head whipped around to Nick, who visibly winced. “You thought of this?” I asked incredulously. “What?!”

“Taylor, it was the only thing I could come up with,” Nick said in a rush. He was slowly rising out of his chair, hands out like he was trying not to spook a wild animal. “You said it yourself; the other options were to hope someone would have sex with him, or he killed someone innocent.”

“So what, I’m the lesser evil? If I don’t do this, things will get worse?”

“Pale Things were just the start,” Noah said matter-of-factly. “If we don’t figure something out, other things will start coming back. Things like Folio or Jolly.”

Whatever the Thing that I saw in the library's parking lot came to mind. “But… you’re suggesting I… have sex with…” I trailed off, looking back at Noah.

Nick opened his mouth, but Noah cut him off. “What, am I so bad that you'd rather the evil come out of the Woods and attack people?” His upper lip twitched into a snarl as he pushed himself off the counter and rose to his full human height. The tallest points of his antlers nearly touched the ceiling.

“Noah.” I could hear the warning in Nick’s voice.

“No, I want to hear why they won't do it,” Noah snapped. “What’s your excuse?”

There was a moment of silence as I tried to register if he was serious or not. I sputtered out, “Well, isn't it obvious?!” Noah raised an eyebrow, and I realized that I'd have to spell it out for him. “Because I'm not in a relationship with you!”

“Semantics,” Noah scoffed. “The Woods don't care. Nick doesn't care either.”

“Dude, I do care. I care about Taylor, and I'm not gonna force them to do something they don't want to do,” Nick stated. He took his hair tie out, letting his long dark locks tumble down over his shoulders.

He then turned to me. “Believe me, if there was some other way, I wouldn't have suggested it. But we're running out of time.”

“When? The solstice?” I asked. It was less than two months away, but at least I would have two months to find another way.

Noah shook his head, but it was Nick who spoke. “Too long. We have to hurry this along, and this kind of ritual would need May powers.”

“B-but like, late May… right?” I asked, failing to keep the uneasiness out of my voice.

“The next Day of Power is May Day, the halfway point between the spring equinox and the summer solstice,” Nick said, grimacing. “Which is May First.”

I quickly looked over at the kitchen calendar. May First was next Wednesday. Less than a week away.

“You could've given me a warning!” I said through gritted teeth.

“We wanted to find another way, Taylor!” Nick shouted exasperatedly, sending the cats scurrying for the bedroom. His patience was snapping. “I didn't want to pressure you into doing this! But unless you have a better idea, this is all we got!”

I didn't have a better idea, and with two pairs of eyes on me, I could barely breathe, let alone think. I needed out.

“I need some air,” I said more to myself than the guys. I turned away from them to grab a jacket.

“Taylor, wait–” Nick started to say something, but I had purposefully walked past him and Noah to the back door to the back porch.

Currently, the back porch has been settled for an outdoor storage area. Empty plant pots dotted the space, some holding down a kiddie pool to keep it from blowing away. Pretty soon they would be filled with various ferns or flowers for Nicholas to grow, kept separate from the garden we had already plotted out.

Normally, I would sit at the glass table in one of the lawn chairs we had acquired, but various tools and smaller pots sat in them. And I was too frazzled to deal with the hammock. So instead I sat down on the steps that led down to the backyard. My toes curled as I hunched over, still cold and now slightly damp. At least the rain had stopped.

My mind was buzzing loudly. I had to have sex with Noah; someone who I would call a petulant little brother on a good day. The fact that Nick was actually encouraging it made it feel harder to comprehend.

I had never cheated on anyone. I had strong feelings about anyone who cheated on their partner. My first girlfriend had cheated on her boyfriend with me for several months, and I hadn't known until she broke up with me. Ever since then, I swore that I would never cause that kind of heartbreak.

But was this considered cheating?

“Hey.”

I looked up to see Noah's tall form looming over me. “What?” I asked flatly, not showing the whirlwind of emotions that was going on inside of me.

“You've been out here too long, and it's after dark. Nick got worried,” he stated. He then folded himself down next to me. The wood steps groaned under our combined weight.

“So why didn't he come out here instead?” I asked. Instead of looking up into his face, I focused on the intricate lines of green and black ink on his left arm. Over the winter, I had found the runes and images twisted within: a wolf howling at the moon, a fish jumping out of a river, an owl mid-flight. All tied together by Celtic knots and symbols of binding and power. It all ended at his wrist; the back of his hand was clear, unlike his right hand.

“Because he thinks you hate him and don't want to see his face right now,” Noah said.

“I don't hate him,” I muttered, turning away from him and resting my chin on my knees.

“You know, I didn't want to do this either.”

I looked up then. “Mainly because the thought of fuckng my best friend’s partner made my skin crawl. But I got over it, cause it was that, or kill somebody. Or the third, more horrible option.”

“What–”

“Also, this is gonna be hard for me, too, you know?” He said.

“Cause it's me? The bane of your existence?”

“No,” he scoffed, annoyed. “Because it's been more than five years since I've even had sex, and the last girl I had sex with stabbed me later that night.”

Elin… I had completely forgotten about her. No one liked to talk about her, so the only thing I knew about her was that she lied and told everyone that Noah ran away, and she was killed by him in revenge.

“I feel like my feelings are invalid,” I said.

“You've got five days to talk to Nick about this. I'm sure you two will figure something out.”

“You seem really sure for someone who was upset at me back in the house.”

“Because I thought it was something stupid like you thought I was ugly,” Noah said, “or some shit like that.”

I elbowed him in the arm, making him snort out a chuckle. He then grabbed the hood of my jacket as he stood up. “Come on. It's late and I don't wanna have to babysit you all night out here.”

Noah didn't follow me into the house, instead waiting outside the back door until I locked it. The inside of the house was dark. I managed to feel my way through the laundry room and into the kitchen, but I could easily tell that Nick wasn't in the living room. I tiptoed down the hall and into the main bedroom, where the shape of him rested under the blanket on his side of the bed.

I silently changed into pajamas before sliding under the covers to curl around Nick's warmth. As I wrapped my arms around him, my bare hands settled on his tummy, and the cold alerted him into wakefulness. “Tay?” he groggily asked, sounding as if he'd been asleep for hours.

“I love you, Nick,” I said over his shoulder. I felt his hand wrap around mine, and he gave them a small squeeze.

“I know,” he said before settling back into my embrace. I kissed his shoulder and tightened my hold on him, like I would never let him go.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

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[rebel-wrath]

Confidence for Writers: How To Believe In Yourself & Your Fiction

Hello,

I'm new here. My name's Callie, and you can call me that or Rebel. My pronouns are they/them, and today I'm sharing somethings that helped me when my confidence took a hit and I couldn't write for a while.

A while ago, I lost my confidence in my writing and I was really struggling with it. I have since regained my confidence and now I know I'm amazing MUHAHA.

No, but like, seriously.

What I’m saying is I lost my confidence and regained it and… well, there’s more to it than that. I was also quite badly depressed. Depression comes and goes for me, and this time it hit hard. Anyway, my confidence tanked, my depression skyrocketed, and I couldn’t write for a long time. A very serious relationship I was in had ended, my job prospects were zero, I had just realised I was transgender for the third time, and unlike the first twice I couldn’t quite bury these feelings (but boy, did I try).

I decided to change my life around. And I started various things, such as exercising, eating better, and so on. Some of those things I still do.

One of the things I started doing was improving my self-confidence. All of it, through my whole life. And my confidence in my writing improved. See, you can improve your writing confidence, and I’ll come back to ways to do that later, but first I want to go over improving overall confidence.

Okay, since you’re reading this piece… one of three things is probably the reason for it. You maybe follow my tumblr (all like 3 of you, thanks), not really into this post, but reading out of loyalty. Thank you if you are, you’re so sweet. I heart you.

The second thing is that you could be really really bored and just reading anything. Oh, I thought of a fourth thing. I’ll put it now. The second and a half thing is curiosity.

The third thing is that you lack confidence and you’re looking for help.

But before I help you, are you confident at anything? If you lack confidence in one area, it’s not uncommon to lack it in other areas, too. If you do lack confidence in more than one area, the general tips to improve your confidence that I’m about to tell you will help. If it’s specifically writing related confidence you need, I’ll cover that after the general tips.

One last thing before we get to the tips: I've already said I was depressed at this time, and that will come up in the post again later. These are not tips for beating depression. You don't beat depression, you manage it. If you have depression, you need to see a doctor.

Tips to Improve Your Overall Confidence

sleep

First of all, get enough sleep. That might be 12 hours, or it might be less. For me, I get between 5 and 7 hours sleep a night, and maybe two or three nights a month I have a 12 hour super sleep. Do what works for you, but if you feel tired all the time… it might be because you’re tired all the time. It could also be illness or depression or something, but at least consider sleeping more. I’m not saying don’t go to the doctor.

Being rested makes you less stressed and more able to handle things.

exercise

One of the best ways to free your mind of stress and worry is through exercise. This is something I was doing a lot last year – but an injury in November with a long recovery means I haven’t been this year. I’m hoping to start again soon, I miss it.

The healthier you are, the better you feel.

act confident

If you act confident, people will assume you are confident. They will treat you like you’re confident, which makes you feel confident, and the difference between feeling confident and being confident - THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.

If you feel it, you are it.

be clean, dress nice, look good

Depressed people often don’t do this - when I was at my most depressed I wouldn’t shower unless I was going out, and I could be in the house for days at a time, wearing the same clothes, all sweaty and rank. Even if you don't shower often, if you aren’t putting effort into your grooming, it can affect your confidence.

Be proud, look good

reframe negativity into positivity

Everyone has internalised thoughts that they never really pay attention to, and often these thoughts are negative. It’s probably a survival thing - I’ll never survive jumping off that 100 feet high cliff is a good thought, I’ll never survive jumping off that two feet high cliff can cripple you with fear for no reason. Pay attention to your internalised thoughts, reframe negativity into positivity.

I will survive jumping off that two feet high cliff.

Even if it’s something you can’t do, try to reframe it into something you can do. I’ll never survive jumping off that 10 feet high cliff unless I practice smaller jumps first and set out crash mats. Okay, yeah, you might not survive anyway - maybe if you jump into the sea?

I’ll never write an 80,000 word novel unless I plan it out and write one 2000 word chapter at a time

be kind and generous

The cynical view is that the more you help others, the more they want to help you, and the more people help you, the more you see yourself as a person worthy of people’s time and attention. The more positive view is still pretty cynical - if you help people, it’s a nice thing to do and doing nice things makes you feel good, unless you are a sociopath. Either way,

helping others helps you

Tips to Improve Your Confidence In Your Writing

First of all, you're not an aspiring writer. Take the aspiring and throw it away. You write. You're a writer. You can aspire to be a better writer, or a published writer, or someone's favourite writer, but you can't aspire to be something you already are.

compliment board

You can make an aesthetic or document of all the compliments you're writing receives and look at them when you're feeling down. Negativity is more memorable than positivity; this helps us remember the nice things people have said about our books. But to do this, we need to let people read our writing.

let people read it

Putting your work out there can be fiendishly difficult. It's a really, really stressful thing until you do it and realise it really isn't that stressful a thing. Yet the next time you try, it seems to be just as stressful as the first time. But it's one of the best and most sure-fire ways to improve your confidence in your writing. People tend to suck at self-evaluating. Some people overdo it, other's can't manage it at all.

be open to criticism

Positive criticism can make you a better writer, and when you're a better writer you'll get more compliments, so that feeds back into your confidence.

but also take no shit

Sometimes people will pretend to be help you but will actually attack you. They will tell you that you are a terrible writer, but will rarely say exactly what is wrong or how to improve. If pinned down, it usually turns out your story just isn't to their taste. Watch for people who pretend attacks are criticism, and remove them from your life or, if you can't, don't give them anything to read and ignore their opinions.

Hopefully these tips help improve your confidence. They worked for me.

[siiinfully]

This wasn’t the first time that she had said goodbye to someone important in her life. And with all of them at war, she knew it wouldn’t be the last. However, she refused to even consider that he wasn’t coming back; he had done this before and had always returned. She had no reason to think that this time, things would be different. It hadn’t stopped her from wandering the grounds like a ghost, always accompanied by Missandei and Grey Worm. If they weren’t walking with her, they were close by, just in case, and it took both of them all of four hours to figure out why she was acting so morose.

But when she was around the Starks and their other allies, she made sure that her emotions were locked down, smiling only when necessary and nodding whenever she thought they did something sensible. And yet her mind trailed back to that group of men who were braving the wastelands beyond The Wall, all for the sake of bringing back a White Walker as proof. She knew that the Starks and the rest of the North hoped that Jon Snow would return, and had things been different, she would have, too.

However, her prayers were for the tall knight from Bear Island, whose niece turned out to be as fierce as a bear cub. A Mormont through and through, and not even the girl’s chilly disposition towards her offended or irritated her. Daenerys was aware of the history between her family and the Starks’, and she had to admire Lyanna’s loyalty at such a young age. She could only hope that she survived the war; Bear Island would benefit greatly from having her as their lady.

It was the fourth day since Jorah left with the others. Daenerys was spending time in the wood, the snow falling steadily and covering more and more of the ground in a carpet of soft, crunchy white. Missandei was there, like she always was, when she suddenly grew still. It was her lady’s whimper that had her look away from the tree, her eyes widening when she noticed a big, burly form amble close, away from the protection of the trees. A bear, a white bear,. Snuffling and inching closer until it noticed the two women. A low growl began to emanate from its throat, a sound that continued until it was interrupted by a softer one.

“My lady…” Missandei began, stopping when Daenerys raised her hand a little. The queen had seen what her lady hadn’t: two bear cubs tumbling into view, one nipping at the other’s ear. Her gaze then turned to the bear, and for a moment, she felt like she was floating away. Up and up and up…only for her to be snapped back to reality by her wrist being squeezed. “No, don’t hurt them,” she whispered. “They’re just looking for a place to stay. And I have somewhere I should be.” A final glance at the three bears, the cubs shuffling behind their mother, and she returned to Winterfell.

Daenerys had heard of some members of her family having the gift of foresight, like the tragic Helaena Targaryen, but she never thought she would have that same ability. Maybe this was just coincidence, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that seeing those bears meant something. That her being in Winterfell was the wrong choice, and that she needed to fly across The Wall. She didn’t stop to tell Sansa or Arya, and she had a feeling that Bran already knew what was going to happen. Instead, she stayed long enough to tell Grey Worm about her plans before heading to the hill where her dragons were.

Rhaegal and Viserion were awake, and Drogon opened his eyes when he sensed her approach. From the look he gave her, she could tell that he already knew what she wanted him to do. And still, after she had climbed onto his back, she murmured: “Take me to him.” With a roar that could rattle shields, Drogon pushed up and off the ground, and he was followed by his younger brothers as they flew away from the fortress. Each second brought her closer to enemy territory, and her heart was pounding the entire time.

What if she was late? Or what if she was wrong? However, she couldn’t stop and second guess herself. She was going purely by instinct, and maybe a little paranoia, but she believed that seeing those cubs with their mother at that precise moment was a sign. And when she saw the group surrounded by a sea of the undead, that belief shifted into reality. She scanned the group for a familiar figure, her heart almost bursting from her ribcage when she saw him, battling at least three White Walkers, and there really was only one thing left for her to say.

“Dracarys.”

Jorah smirked, his gaze lingering on Daenerys with a fondness that was unmistakable. The playful teasing in her voice had always made his heart beat a little faster, even after all this time. But as she moved toward him, her lips inches from his, he could barely hold back a chuckle. The familiar tension between them was still there, though it had evolved into something deeper, more intimate.“I suppose I’ve already lost any semblance of dignity around you, my queen,” he said with a smirk, his voice warm and laced with that irrepressible fondness he had for her, even in the moments that bordered on irreverence. "You’ve made sure of that. I regret nothing and speak honestly to my queen"

Her teasing tone only made him smile more, though he dutifully composed himself when Missandei’s soft footsteps faded from the room. He didn’t want to cause any more unnecessary embarrassment, even though the thought of it brought a lightness to his heart he hadn’t felt in years. Jorah watched her as she moved about the room, gathering herself, her hair still hanging loose down her shoulders, the softness of her furs contrasting with the strength in her bearing. She was a queen, yes, but she was also his queen, and in moments like this, when the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, the weight of it all felt a little lighter.

“I’ll take the bath, of course,” he replied, his voice a little more tender than before. "But I’m not sure that Jon’s timing is the most considerate.His smile faltered slightly at the mention of Jon Snow. Even after all the battles, all the bloodshed, Jorah couldn’t quite shake the knot of unease in his chest every time Jon's name came up.Of what had happened between them and witnessed. There was no secret. And he had a sense that the brooding Northern lord might not be as indifferent as he appeared.

Daenerys was different. Her heart was always open to those she trusted, even when her trust was betrayed. But Jon was... well, Jon was not easily read. Jorah had barely known the man but known well enough the trust that his father had given the younger man. He had welded his former sword. Of course, it was no longer his and perhaps that may be his use - he could keep the sword as long as he could have Daenarys his wife as he intended. When he returned; if the gods willed it than he would have her wed to him.

Jorah let out a small sigh, the thought of it already gnawing at him. He had sworn an oath to her long before Jon had appeared, but something about the young lord’s presence unsettled him. For a time he had held her attention but that was no longer the case. How he would deal with the matter alone with him was going to be curious but he hoped the younger man knew when to lose an argument if he had any.

Still, Jorah wasn’t one to allow his personal worries to take root in times like these. There were more important things to focus on."I suppose we’ll see what he wants,” Jorah continued, stepping closer to Daenerys, his hand brushing against the curve of her waist as he leaned in to kiss her once more, softer this time, as if drawing strength from the connection. "all will be well"

His eyes glinted, a mischievous spark there that had become more frequent since they’d begun this—this new phase of their lives. A queen with all the weight of the world on her shoulders. But in moments like this, she was still his Dany, and Jorah would not let anything, or anyone, interfere with that.

Later as he met her once again he stood by her, her hands in his own as he held them and walked towards the boats. Jorah's eyes widened slightly at her words, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He glanced around quickly, but no one seemed to have overheard. His voice was low and husky when he replied, "I promise, Khaleesi. I will return to you." He closed his fingers around the ring, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I will guard this with my life, and bring it back to you."

A loud cough broke through their reverie. Jorah turned to see Tyrion watching them and he looked at her once more. His voice lowered, his lips lingering by her ear. “I will think of nothing else but our reuinion. There will be many more night for us, wife” he kissed her cheek. “I promise. I have beaten the odds many a time - with less luck on my side. I have more than that. I have something to live for. Goodbye, Dany”

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?

uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!

[witchspeka]

I dont think Mob is naive as much as he's socially unaware, like the reason why he trusts Reigen so blindly is a bit more complex than just him being naive

Cause Mob reached out to Reigen because he was desperate to find someone like him, someone who understood his psychic specific issues, someone that could truly know what he's feeling and going through and give him guidance and support

Post incident Mob's thinking process was something along the lines of my powers hurt people -> my powers are bad -> my powers (my emotions, my instincts, myself) cannot be trusted

So he lost all confidence and trust in his own actions, resigning to being as passive as possible to avoid any further damage to anyone else, thus he started doubting his own perception of reality too

He's a kid already struggling with being ostracised for being socially inept, who just got traumatised and all of his insecurity increased by the tenfold, he doesn't know how to process what he's going through. He needs help.

And here comes Reigen, seemingly reliable, a responsible adult in a child's eyes, someone who claims he can understand him

Even tho Reigen doesnt. But it doesn't matter, because Mob finds comfort in his words and takes them to heart

Even if Reigen doesn't fully get it, even if he doesn't see the bigger picture, even if his advice isn't always the best

Eventually, Mob grows up, realises Reigen isn't as honest as he seemed through his 11 year old perspective, but like most things, he refuses to acknowledge it on a deeper level

Mob knows, but never tells Reigen, never thinks about what all those lies mean to him (ofc until he forces himself to face those doubts regarding Reigen, to properly acknowledge both of their flaws and accept them as they are, I should scream into the void about Confession Arc more God)

Due to his lack of trust in himself, Mob has relied on Reigen for years now to shape his moral compass, his thoughts, his decisions

Because well, Reigen lies, sure, but he isnt a bad person. When he hurts Mob, it isn't intentional or with ill intent, he still wants the best for him, what's the issue?

Except that it stunts Mob's growth. He doesn't develop as a person, doesn't have goals or wishes or ambitions, can't make choices on his own, he doesn't even let himself acknowledge his own emotions, he refuses to let himself exist

But Mob realises in time that he wants more than that, he wants to become better and be independent and feel again

Still, he puts the acknowledgement of the lies on hold for as long as he can, unwilling to question the way things are

This can make him feel a little naive, he constantly relies on Reigen and trusts his decisions and raises questions rarely until separation arc when he finally puts his foot down

And I do think that moment is the most resounding proof we have that Mob knows and allows himself to be used by Reigen, not wanting to shake the status quo, until he gets fed up

I mentioned the social ineptitude at the beggining but idk if I should even elaborate on that, you've watched the show, you know what I mean

He's blunt and can't read social cues or tonality that well and can't speak in front of crowds and is overall pretty awkward and I do think some people conflate that with naivety

Mob is still a child, he doesnt fully understand how the world works at the ripe age of 14 years old, but some folks take that as him being inherently naive/innocent/whatever which I don't find true