#this is mostly so i can pin it and make it easier to read them all in one go

[lozzagnadraws]

precious chest glossary

sethos drags wanderer out to explore the desert in search of treasure. what's the worst that can happen? (surprise, it's feelings!)

part one - three

part four - six

part seven

part eight

part nine

part ten

part eleven

[otaku553]

Straw hat women redesigns :) I was trying to doodle some of the crew and came to the realization that I just Could Not with Nami so I wanted to play around with it a little bit

Some more design notes below:

Nami’s design actually went a lot smoother for me than Robin’s! I think canon post timeskip Nami is a very low bar. While you can argue that to some extent Nami being vain and seductive is part of her character, I do feel that there are many more integral parts of her character that can be highlighted in her design, namely map making and her combat. Though not one of the stronger straw hats, Nami does seem to be well practiced with her staff outside of its use for weather manipulation, and I think her being a physical combatant, even slightly, can be better reflected with more loose clothing for better mobility.

For her mapmaking, I wanted her to have constant easy access to her tools and to information about the locale, so around her waist she has one large pouch at the back for books and scrolls and maps in progress and one small pouch to the side for writing utensils and measurement tools. As backup she also has 2 pens in her bun, which also act as pins for keeping her hair up if she ever needs to move a lot.

I’m not sure how clearly it shows up in the notes, but Nami’s shoe soles are also made from whatever artificial cloud material makes up the weather island she stayed on during the timeskip, so that it both pads her steps to make them soundless and bounces for better mobility. The shoes are naturally shaped like heels but without the actual heel, since she tends to move around on tiptoes anyways- a nod to her epithet as cat burglar and her past as a thief.

I made her shoulders a bit broader because I think they probably get a lot of exercise with her staff, and changed out the bikini top for a more supportive chest wrap, with a loose tank over it for breathability. The compression socks and sleeve are more stylistic than anything, since I like layers, but they might come in handy for her if she spends extended amounts of time sitting down making maps for the crew.

Robin’s was a bit more difficult for me to figure out, and I might go back and revisit it at some point. For Nami, it was a bit easier to imagine what would pair well with her combat methods and her needs as a mapmaker, but with Robin, she’s an academic who fights almost completely hands off, without a specific weapon to her name. Because her strength lies mostly in her devil fruit, she has a bit more room for style over functionality, but I also still wanted her to have something that made sense with what she was. I don’t really think I succeeded in that regard, but it’s also hard to convey what she does visually— she’s more of like a professor than a field archaeologist I think.

I really really enjoy her cowboy hat but I didn’t think it would match with the rest of the outfit so I switched it out for a wider brimmed hat and kept the orange sunglasses on it, as a nod to the revolutionaries with the combination of headwear and eyewear. She deserves a trench coat. I don’t make the rules. And the rest of the fit mostly came down to things I think I would enjoy wearing, haha

The trench coat is partially a nod to the scholars of ohara, who seem to wear white coats like lab coats in some screenshots of robin’s backstory. I think also the reading glasses help to make her seem a bit more academic, but aren’t prominent enough to leave a strong impression. All in all I do wish robin’s design had more functionality in it but I also think that robin is a character who probably enjoys dressing up nicely like this, especially in the comfort and stability of the straw hats.

[ma1dita]

bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it.

At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, Trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend.

Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this wasn't my planned update but here we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your grandmother is where she always is. In her chair reading her book. She doesn’t look up and you don’t bother saying a word. She’s getting exactly what she’s always wanted and she doesn’t even realise it. She’s getting rid of you. Another thing you’ve done for her that she’ll never acknowledge. 

You go into your room and look around. You sit on the bed and examine each wall. You’re not going to miss this place, just your freedom. There is no illusion left around Andy. He’s shown how far he’ll go to make his will your own. You don’t expect him to ‘take care of you’ as he keeps promising, not in the way it sounds. 

You huff and hold your head. You’re not going to sleep. You don’t have time to. You have to figure out what to take with you. What do you tell your grandmother? She won’t care either way, will she. She’ll finally have her empty nest. At least someone will have what they want. 

You don’t have much to your name. Your switch, your headset, controllers; that’s the expensive stuff. Your clothes are mostly used, easily replaceable. You’re not really worried about dressing up. 

You spend the hours going through every little nook and cranny. You’re not sentimental, you don’t have much that it more than material. Only a box of keepsakes from the few years of your life; a friendship bracelet the neighbour girl gave you before she moved away, some meaningless award you won in grade school for attendance, and the only thing left to you by your parents, besides resent; a baby sweater you wore when they thought they could love you. 

You fit everything you’re taking in a single bag. The rest you box up and drag out to the curb. In the early hours, the house is quiet and you try not to make too much noise. Your grandmother’s snores stir from her room. She’s blissfully ignorant just as always. 

You strip the bed and put the sheets and blanket in the wash. Hopefully you can switch it over before you go. You wipe down the furniture with a wet cloth and dust the corners and the empty closet. You’re covered in sweat and breathless by the time you have the entire space barren. You’re so tired you’re dizzy but closing your eyes only brings Andy’s voice to mind. 

There’s a creak and you raise your head as the ripples dissipate. Your grandmother slouches as she clings to the door handle and scowls. She looks around the room and her grey brow twitches. 

“Eh, what’re you doing?” She growls, “making all this noise.” 

“Leaving,” you shrug. 

“Leaving? To where?” 

You’re dumbfounded she’s even asked. You sit up and show your hands, “gotta go back to school soon anyway so I’m going to crash with Kara. I’ll leave money on the table when I go.” 

“Oh.” 

That’s all she says before she goes. She believes you only because she doesn’t care enough to doubt you. You hang your head and sigh. You can’t help but think of what Andy said. You hate to admit it but he’s right. There’s no one else who wants you. It doesn’t make him a better option, just the only. 

Thinking makes your head hurt. Or maybe that’s the lack of sleep. You check your phone and wrap up the charging cord. Morning already. Nearly 7am. You spent hours clearing out your old life; a life that was never really living. 

There’s a message waiting for you. Two. Both from Andy. The first is a good night you never answered and the second from just twenty minutes ago, asking if you’re awake. You send a thumbs up. That’s all you can handle right now. 

The call comes almost as soon as the message sends and the check mark turns blue. You answer without hesitation. Your so numb to the inevitability of it all, there’s no sense in avoiding any of it. You just want this over with even though you know it won’t be. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” Andy purrs from the other end. Your throat clenches and your cheeks tug into a frown. “How are you?” 

You go to speak and cough, your mouth dry. You clear your throat and rub your forehead as it throbs with the effort, “awake. Packed.” 

“Oh, honey, you sound tired.” 

“Mm,” you hum flatly. 

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he says, “I couldn’t stop thinking of you.” He pauses, waiting for the lies you won’t give him. “Well, when do you wanna head out? Do you need a little more time?” 

“Ready,” you utter. Not really ready but resigned.  

“Sure, sweetheart, I’ll just get myself together and be over in twenty minutes, how does that sound?” 

Why is he asking you like you have a choice? You garble an agreement and hang up. You put the phone down as you sit on the naked mattress and stare. Your head is swimming with fatigue. As you close your eyes, the fear returns. You’re really doing this. 

You fold over your lap and whimper. It’s over, not that it ever really begun. Not that you were ever really expected much. You just wanted to be your own person, have your own space, make your own way. For once in your life, you just wanted to be you. 

Andy isn’t going to let that happen. You don’t know him but you know he wants you to be something you aren’t. Whether it’s delusion or cruelty, you don’t know, but you know something isn’t right. It can never be right. 

You get up and unlock your phone. You key in a message with the last of your strength; ‘meet me at the corner’. You don’t think she’ll bother herself but you wouldn’t want your grandma to see the truth. You’re not sure she’d even care enough to judge you. 

You come out as she grumbles into a coffee cup. You roll your bag behind you and grab your jacket from the hook by the door; a light canvas one you wear in the mornings when the dew chills the air. She stares at the television as the news blares at her. 

“Here,” you take out the little bit of cash you have left to your name and place it on the table at her elbow, “I’m... going now.” 

“Erm,” she grunts and slurps the coffee. She doesn’t even look at you. Should you tell her you’re not coming back? You leave your keys with the money 

You just turn and pull your bag after you to the door, stopping only to put your shoes on. You open the front door and step out into the soft hues of morning. It would be a beautiful day if the world hadn’t gone gray. 

Your bag wheels scratch the pavement behind you, the whole thing jostling at the end of the long handle. You head down to the corner and park yourself on the curb, waiting as your eyes rove the area. You take it all in; the fences, the hedges, the cracked birdbath, and the few welcome signs on doors. 

The low whir of an engine approaches. You know without looking it’s him. But you do. You have to face it. 

“Hey,” Andy steps out as you stand on the curb. “Let me get this, sweetheart.” 

He reaches back inside the car and hits a switch. The trunk opens on its own. Is it pathetic that you’re kind of impressed by that? You’ve only seen trunks that you open with your hands. He lifts your bag inside easily and taps another button, the hatch closing slowly behind him. 

“Come on, you look beat,” he touches your shoulder and you flinch, curling inward as you shake his hand away. “I brought you a coffee. Not the hotel brew, the good stuff.” 

You numbly follow him around to the other side. He opens the car door and you stare at the interior. You take a breath and grab the trim of the door and haul yourself inside. You drop heavily into the seat and your head bounces against the rest. 

He lingers. You feel his gaze on you. He’s expecting something you can’t give him. Not yet. You don’t know if ever. You let out a murmur as he leans in to kiss your cheek. You fight not to show your disgust. 

“Just relax. I’ll drive, you get some sleep, sweetheart,” he caresses your arm. You don’t react. Not a look, not a flinch. 

He shuts the door and walks along the hood. You watch him through the windshield. He’s wearing one of those suits. Dark navy slacks and white shirt with a black tie. You let your head loll and see the matching jacket folded neatly in the back seat. 

He gets in the car, his weight felt in the axle. He hits the button to wake the engine and buckles his belt. He glances over. 

“Hey, safety first.” 

You huff. He's acting like the dad you never had. You click the seat belt into place and turn your face to the window. He inhales deeply and lets it out slow before he puts the SUV into gear. 

“You say goodbye to grandma?” 

“Mm... mhmm,” you grumble. 

“She’ll miss you, huh?” 

Your lip curls and you hide your face as you focus on the houses rolling slowly by. Why is he playing this game? Did he not throw her apathy in your face to get here? 

“Did you bring your switch? We could play some at the hotel,” he offers. 

You close your eyes and ball your fists. It takes everything you have left not to scream and hit him. It’s like he’s rubbing it in. He won! He won! 

And you lost. Just like always. 

“What about Kara?” You ask crisply. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re hoarse. Try some of the coffee,” he reaches to flick the top of a travel mug. You narrow your eyes as you follow the gesture. The purplish pink metal is topped with a white plastic lid. On the side, the outline of a game controller is patterned on the multicoloured finish. “It’s a good brew. Only a few places I’ve found have it. I’ll take you to the shop back home once you’re settled.” 

You’re not arguing with him. You’ve seen how far that gets you. You take the cup and pop the tab on top. You take a tentative sip as you feel the heat within. 

“I added some sugar,” he says. 

“I don’t like sugar,” you snap the lid shut and put the lid back. 

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “guess we have a lot to learn about each other.” 

“Kara,” you insist again. 

He sighs and taps his fingers on the wheel, “I called last night. They’re holding her so we can pay the bond.” 

We? He’s not subtle. You sniff as your back racks with the sort of achiness that comes from being so tired. 

“I’ll talk to them. Get the charges knocked down. If anything, I can get them piled onto that boy she keeps around. He’s trouble, if I’ve ever seen it--” 

“Seen?” You echo, “have you... seen him?” 

He hesitates and his cheek dimples under his dark beard. He stares at the road ahead as his lips move as if he’s talking silently. Finally, he answers. 

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe. I know better than any that hanging out with the wrong crowd can get you into a lot of trouble--” 

“No, Andy, tell me. Were you watching her too?” You sit up with effort. 

“You should sleep, it’s a long drive,” he girds. 

“Andy, tell me--” 

“I had too. You cut me off and I had to be sure you were okay,” he insists. “And you weren’t. Not really. Sweetheart, things are going to be a lot better. Together. You just can’t see it right now because you never--” 

“Oh, I know what I’ve never had,” you fall back and slump against the door, “you don’t need to keep reminding me.” 

A roiling silence fills the compartment. He exhales again and slows as his blinker clicks noisily. He turns onto the next road as you feel his anxiety. Or maybe it’s your own. 

“I’m sorry. I only want...” he trails of as he measures his words, “I want to take care of you. To give you all that stuff. I don’t want you to feel bad.” 

“I’m tired,” you snip and fold your arms. 

“Right,” he says tensely, “yeah, get some sleep. Easier to talk after.” 

Talk? You’re done talking to him. He only says the same thing over and over again.  

[cevansbrat0007]

Jiggly

Summary: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight.

Warnings: Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Smut (Heavily Implied), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Light Spanking, Cursing, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Talk of Potentially Abusive Exes, Brief Discussion of Murder, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner and @dc41896. This story will more than likely take place in my upcoming Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

___

“Lemme see.” 

“Seriously, Ari?” You mumble, throwing your arms over your face. “Ari–no!” Your man’s eagerness has you almost immediately second guessing yourself as you hastily go back to protecting your middle. 

“Why not?” Your man purrs, nuzzling the fabric of your threadbare flannel shirt with the tip of his nose. It was your favorite thing to wear when you felt like this. Not because it was exceptionally cute, but because it was comfortable.

Nevermind the fact that it had once belonged to Ari. And that you usually only wore it when he was away on a job and you were missing him.   

“I just wanna see what all this fuss is about, Bird.”

“I already told you.” The words are spoken in a huff. After a brief debate, you decide to take advantage of the element of surprise and flip your positions so that you’re straddling him. “I’m feeling a little jiggly.”  

“Right, you’re…jiggly.” A small snort slips from his mouth before he can compose himself. “I heard what you said the first three times you said it. Didn’t make a lick of sense then and it doesn’t make any now.” 

Annoying bastard. Not everyone could walk around all day sporting washboard abs. Especially not a girl like you whose passion for baking was almost as big as her passion for books.

“Oh, shut up.” You grunt, rolling your eyes as you go to pin his hands above his head. 

“I’m just pointing out that my ears are working fine.” He picks that moment to buck his hips, almost knocking you off your perch. Somehow you manage to steady yourself, but it’s absolutely easier said than done.

“Hold still, Levinson!”

“Looks to me like you’re the one doing all the moving.” Ari’s hearty chuckle has you redoubling your efforts to hold him hostage. “Although, I can’t say I’m complaining.” He purrs, his lidded gaze straying to your now-heaving chest. “But I really think our next move should be gettin’ you outta that shirt.”

Fat chance of that one, pal. The last thing you wanted was to be naked in front of him right now. Sunlight wasn't known for being slimming.

“Nope.” 

“I vote yes.” Ari twists his big body, jerking against your hold. “And while you’re at it you can lose the shorts too, along with the panties.” 

“But I’m not wearing any.” The words tumble out faster than you can stop them. It’s enough to have you mentally slapping yourself in the face.

“Even better.” The feral gleam in his eyes sends sparks shooting straight to your core. “I’m a simple man, baby. And giving me easy access to that sweet pussy is the quickest way to my heart.” 

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a surprise that you don’t lose them. As it was, your flimsy shorts were already riding up your ass in a way that was kind of uncomfortable. Mostly because your man wouldn’t stay still.

“Bird, what have I told you about rolling your eyes at me?” The soft, silky timbre of his voice has alarm bells sounding in your head.

“Um…” Now, that one has you at a loss. And not because you didn’t know the answer to his question.

In the past, Ari had explicitly warned you not to do it. Not unless you wanted him to give you a few reasons to keep ‘em rolling. Specifically in the form of his thick, hard cock. Because while your man was usually more than willing to put up with quite a bit of sass from you...

There was just something about rolling your eyes that pissed him off. In fact, the last time you’d done it you’d found yourself bent over the couch with a sore ass and him balls deep inside you.

Granted you’d also been in the middle of a fight, but that was neither here nor there. 

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” 

“Bite me.” You snap, your mouth once again moving faster than your brain. Fuck, you needed to get a handle on that.  

Ari has you on your back in a flash. He looms over you, careful not to give you his full weight. It went without saying that you were well on your way to getting yourself in trouble with your man.

Him and stupid rules about maintaining proper eye eye contact and refusing to tolerate your brand of self-deprecating talk. He always maintained that if he ever found himself wanting one of those rail-thin Hollywood types over you, he’d go see about getting his head checked out. 

To him you were gorgeous. Not because of or in spite of your curves. But because you were you. 

“Where’s all this sass coming from?” Ari asks, shaking his head as his nimble fingers begin the work of unfastening your flannel. “It can’t all be because you’re feeling squishy.”

“Jiggly.” You correct him gently, your heart speeding up as he slowly unfastens one button, and then another. 

“My mistake, Duchess.” And there was his other nickname for you; the one you’d earned yourself during your very first meeting. “I just don’t like seeing my girl upset – especially not when she’s been walking around my place all day looking good enough to eat.”

Soon you’re down another button, but you hardly notice this time. You’re too busy getting lost in his sparkling blue eyes.

Only a few more to go. Frankly, the only reason Ari hadn’t ripped the damn thing was because he knew just attached you were to it. And he didn’t want to risk upsetting you further.    

“I’m sorry.” You try, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. While your boyfriend doesn’t say anything, the apology does manage to earn you a kiss. Even though it’s nothing more than a faint brush of his mouth over yours. 

“Swear to God, baby.” Ari hums as he resumes the delicate task of divesting you of your clothes. “If I ever meet the man responsible for planting all those ugly thoughts in the beautiful mind of yours…” Once all the buttons are finally undone, he parts the edges of the worn fabric, exposing your bare breasts.

“Ari…”

“I’ll fucking kill him.” His dark gaze locks with yours, making it clear that he’s not joking.   

“Beast…��� A shiver courses through you, the cool air making your nipples pebble. “This has nothing to do with him. My clothes have been feeling a little snug lately, but then I stepped on the scale this morning and it confirmed everything. I’ve probably just been eating too much.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen how much you eat.” The tick in his bearded jaw has you glad your ex no longer lived in the same county as you. “Some days it’s still nowhere near enough. Might as well be a bunch of birdseed. And since when do I even own a fucking scale?” 

Since you’d relocated it from your house to his. But your man doesn’t even give you time to respond. He’s already decided on its new home.

“It’s going in the trash, Bird.” Ari growls, his tone dripping with authority. 

“But I need –”

“What you need to do is not worry about counting every single calorie in every tiny bite of food you put in your mouth all the damn time.” His big hands go to frame your face as he forces himself to take a calming breath. “Because I remember what it was like back then, when you were too nervous to even eat in front of me.” 

Shit. You did too. You’d been so worried that he’d make some remark about how much food you were putting in your mouth or on your plate that you’d done your damndest to avoid eating in front of him altogether.  

“And I will not let us go back to that place, baby. I just won’t.” Ari’s head dips once more – this time his tongue sweeping past your lips to tenderly dance with your own as he pours every ounce of love he can into the kiss. He groans when he finally feels you relax beneath him, almost as if he’s savoring your submission. “You have my fucking word.” He murmurs once he finally lets you up for air.   

“I think that maybe I just need to eat more salads.” You tell him as your toes begin to curl. At the same time, a delicious warmth pools in your belly as your man begin’s trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your body. Your fingers sink into his chestnut tresses, lightly ruffling the strands.   

“Eat whatever the fuck you want.” Comes his swift rebuttal, his sharp teeth grazing over your pouting nipple.

“Bu–but…then my clothes might not fit.” A hiss of breath escapes as his kisses continue to move further south. “Like, at all.”

“Then we’ll just have to buy you some more goddamned clothes then, won’t we?” Ari snarls before pausing his hedonistic assault to glare up at you. When you don’t respond immediately, one of his hands finds your chin – gripping it with just enough force to let you know he means business. 

Your man was also the type who liked to hear an answer when he asked a question. And that wasn’t something that only applied to you. It was true for everyone. He didn’t talk just to hear himself speak.

“Yes, Sir.” To be fair, it was hard to argue with your boyfriend’s logic. And if he wanted to spend his hard-earned money he’d made off of chasing bad guys, then perhaps you’d ought to let him. 

The last thing you needed was him off pouting in the corner somewhere. He was a sizable enough menace already. He didn’t need the extra help.

“Thank you.” He grumbles, shifting his attention to what’s left of your clothes. Namely, your shorts. The ones Ari wasn’t too keen on you wearing out of the house on account of the fact that they barely covered your ass. Shaking his head, he eases the thin material down your thighs before tossing them over his shoulder. 

Now you were well and truly naked – completely at the mercy of your still fully-clothed Beast.

“Show me what’s mine, please.” Ari rasps, nudging your thighs apart. In the mood to obey, you let them fall open, putting your glistening cunt on  display. “There’s a good girl.” His fingers reach out to brush over your sensitive folds, making you whimper. 

Feeling brave, your hand shoots out to wrap around his thick wrist. “Wait. I was thinking I’d like to, um…makeup for upsetting you a little bit ago.”

“Really, Bird? You wanna make it up to me?” He maneuvers himself on the bed so that he can help you sit up. Nodding, you move to reach for him – intending to remove his t-shirt. Only to be surprised when Ari stops you. 

“But I want it off.” You whine, poking out your lower lip. “You’re not playing fair.”

“That’s because we’re not playing. If you wanna make it up to me then you’re just gonna have to do what I say.” He smooths a thumb across the wrinkles in your brow. “You can suck me off later. After you’ve fed me.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” Grinning, Ari goes to lie flat on his back, his muscled arms coming to rest behind his head. “Now bring your sweet ass over here and sit on my face.” He pats his chest for good measure, licking his lips in anticipation. “And I mean all the way down.”

“But what if I –” Your stream of consciousness is interrupted by Ari tugging you forward. He grips your thighs, his slightly calloused palms tenderly kneading your flesh as he urges you up his body in the direction of his waiting mouth. 

This position always makes you nervous – regardless of whether or not you’d had to jump into your jeans that morning. 

“You just let me worry about all those pesky what-ifs.” Your man grunts, letting it be known that the only way to satisfy him right now is to submit. He spanks your ass when you hover too long above his face. “The only thing you need to be concerned about is how I’m gonna redden that ass if you don’t do as you’re told and sit all the way down.”

You feel your face flush as your empty walls clench. Your body was feeling more than a little needy. You were craving your man's cock like the drug that it was. But before you got what you wanted, you'd have to make a couple of concessions first.

Starting with this one...       

“I mean it, Bird.” He growls, delivering a sharp smack. “All the way down, please. I’m not worried about being able to breathe.” You jump when you receive another smack for your trouble. “Besides, if it’s my time to go…then I’d much rather go out with the taste of you on my tongue.” 

"Now let's see just how many you can give me."

END

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 25 . Rumination

a/n: Fun fact: when I drafted the storyboard for this it was suppose to have 19 chapters but when I wrote it it ended up having 26 chapters... idfk what happened...

tags: feelings in progress

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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“So you actually have the option of just giving out your vitality instead of absorbing someone else’s wound?”

Choi Han asked _____ as the healer examined the scratch on his palm.

“Yeah, that’s what the God of Death told me. But honestly, this is easier to do.”

At that moment the scratch transferred over to _____. Making Choi Han retreat his hand.

“_____-nim give that back. Give it back right now.”

“Why are you asking for it like it’s something you bought? Plus it’s just a scratch, look it’s barely visible on me.”

The healer looked at the swordmaster confusedly. They couldn’t understand why his so adamant about returning the wound.

“At least take some of my vitality.”

“What–? No way! I just healed you!”

“Then give it back _____-nim.”

“Give what back?”

Cale– no. Naru’s voice suddenly interjected in the conversation. He looked at the two, curious as to what they could have been arguing about.

“Human you’re back! _____ was practising their healing abilities on Choi Han but then got impatient and absorbed the wound instead. Now Choi Han is asking them to give his wound back!”

Raon answered Cale’s curiosity instead of the two. The now 12-year-old child could only frown and shake his head.

“_____ remember that we agreed that you’ll practice because I won’t let you absorb anyone else’s wounds.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.”

_____ waved their hand off at Cale’s scolding.

And it's true. They have been working hard to adjust to the new change in how they use their power. It’s hard to not automatically absorb someone’s wound or sickness but the healer figured they’d master it soon enough.

It’s just that there’s a lot on their mind right now.

The blessing of the gods. White Star’s plans. Cale’s real identity. Their feelings.

It’s just a lot to take in all at once.

Others understand that the healer’s mind is complicated. That’s why they don’t put any pressure. Reassure _____ that they are mostly in the Endable Kingdom for Cale’s peace of mind. That they can relax because they’d only have to move if it’s an emergency.

“You also know about our human _____?”

Raon spoke vaguely one day. Despite that, the healer still understood what he meant and the reason for his vague words.

“I do. It’s a secret among the four of us right?”

_____ put their index finger on their face to emphasize the secrecy.

“Yes! I won't tell anyone!”

The dragon spun excitedly around the room. It makes _____smile, it had been so long since they’d talked with Raon and they were glad his as energetic as before.

However, the mention of Cale’s secret got them thinking about his real identity. _____ didn’t mind it. The current Cale is the one they knew. So they have no qualms about his identity.

But they did fear the chance of those who knew the original Cale finding out. Like his parents or Ron.

What would be the chance that they’d be sad? Upset that all this time it actually wasn’t their Cale but someone else.

_____’s heart ache at the thought of it.

Cale– no, Kim Rok Soo sounds like he already lost so much. It would be unfair if he lost his biological family here too.

Something like that happening would be cruel.

Not just to Cale, but to his family as well.

“You know… This kind of feels like I’m on babysitting duty.”

_____ suddenly said while eating dinner with Naru.

“...What the fuck?”

The disguised man almost choked on his food at the random statement.

“_____… No… Please…”

A sour look painted his face. As if the thought of _____ babysitting him was so vile.

“I understand. Stop looking at me like that, I’ll shut up about it.”

The healer laughed before continuing to eat their food. A few minutes of silence lingered as the two finished their food.

After eating, the two decided to hang out on Naru’s bed. With _____ sitting on it while Naru lay his head on the healer’s lap.

“Are you having a hard time?”

_____ stroked Naru’s white hair as they asked the question.

“Just a bit.”

He answered truthfully. The healer hummed, encouraging him to speak further.

“But it’s manageable. I’m doing it for our friends after all.”

“I’m glad. Once we solve this let’s get you that slacker life.”

Their conversation ended at that. Both decide to silently bask in each other’s presence. Lost in their train of thought.

Friends…

Cale’s response to _____’s question made the healer realise something. It made them realise just how loved they are right now.

How they have been so focused on other things that they didn’t notice it. Too busy chasing the ghost of the past. Getting validation from those who will never give it. When in fact they already have so much.

They have found their real family. They are so loved.

Just now are they realising such facts.

Regret and happiness rush through their body at the reflection.

Satisfaction comes along right behind them.

‘Yeah, things as they are right now are fine. I don’t need anything else, just my friends and their love. There’s no need to pursue romance. I’m sure it’ll go away someday.’

Was what _____ thought to themself.

However, some time later…

“Do you know just how much my heart longed for you while I was away?”

“Cale..? Excuse… me..?”

[moonlight-tmd]

Prowlbee, ShockBee, Blitzbee

Kink head cannons.

Oooh dear- that was bound to get into my inbox at some point. Welp, here we go.

ATTENTION: this blog has a unique version of interfacing so read this post to know what's up!!

(CW: A whole lot of dirty)

ProwlBee

Prowl would defo be into breeding and all the animal-related kinks. Even tho Cybertronians have different biology from earth's animals he still finds ways for them to work stuff out. (octopus breeding, for example) They have a bunch of different poses to do the deed that they like.

Roleplaying as feral and broody are one of the ways they go at it.

Bee defo has some marking kink and loves to leave scratches and bites all over Prowl.

Prowl is mostly the bottom, although he doesn't mind having a go at Bee when the mini wants it.

They both love some sensory play- Bee's horns are sensitife to help him navigate the surroundings but also are very fun to play with during the act. Prowl is sensititve to sound and light so having Bee vent and whisper into his audial defo does things to him. Blindfold makes it even better.

I guess they're into bondage a little bit- I mean, most female animals are pinned down while the male breeds them therefore Prowl would be into being tied up/having limited movement and letting Bee wreck him while he helplessly struggles.

BlitzBee

Both of them are a bit of masochists- c'mon what did you expect.

They're reallly into marking, although Blitzwing has to be very careful because Bee is much more fragile than him.

They're switches, but Bee's topping score is a lot higher than Blitz's.

Blitzwing is into praise, he never really got any and loves when Bee whispers all those sweet things, dirty or not, into his audials while he ravages his insides. Bee is 50/50 on praise and degradation; he loves when Blitzwing tells him how much he loves him/his frame while also scolding him for trouble/being an aft.

Size difference. Bee loves to be strangled by Blitz's thick meaty tentacles and have that sweet sensory input all on him. Bee's tentacles are thin but quite long and very easy to get into all the little cracks and crevices at the sensitive spark chamber.

Blitz's glossa itself is a lot like a tentacle so Bee loves it when Blitz lick his tentacles and with it- Bee's still a little bit nervous when Blitz brings his intake close to something so small and fragile as his spark chamber but trusts him to not eat it. (which Blitzwing would NEVER do, not to his hummel)

Bondage for Blitzwing. I cannot stress enough how much he loves being tied up by Bee and having him do all the amazing things to him- he was scared at first but began to absolutely love it over time. Bee likes to have power over Blitz like that.

Edging, these two cannot go without having as least a little bit of teasing. They both love to make the other one beg them to finally do some real action.

Vore. Blitz is adamant to squeeze Bee into his intake and have him be all snug and comfy inside...and maybe have some more kinky action going as well. Bee wasn't as excited for this as Blitz but it eventually rubbed off on him and he gets a little horny whenever Blitz licks or puts his limb into his intake. To Bee's surprise, Blitz actually put effort into preparing himself to eat Bee; Blitzwing has eaten a lot of stuff over his years of existence, many which were not made for consumption, his fuel tank could handle almost anything. He made sure his throat could fit something larger and that all the system commands worked perfectly so he wouldn't accidentally digest Bee (which was very alluring and kinky but he couldn't allow it.) They have one of those giant spools or wire that Bee ties around his leg/arm so Blitzwing can pull him out easier. Whenever he's inside Blitz, he has to have this protective shield-coat (think like a glove around his whole frame) over himself so his own exposed parts don't get damaged by Blitz's internal fluids... also his paint, he does not have an excuse to explain why he's missing paint/has to get new one so often. Blitz loves having an "internal massage" done while he (and Bee) self-service. Bee loves the tight space and its walls squeezing him everytime Blitz moves.

ShockBee

Shockwave/Longarm loves to be in control. He loves to immobilize Bee and tell him what to do/say as well as delay/force his overloads.

Bondage is a huge thing for both of them, Shock/Long doesn't even need a rope to tie Bee up and have him all exposed. Same with Bee, he'll just maneuver his way around enough and have Long/Shock tangled up in his own limbs and at Bee's mercy.

Shock/Long loves to praise Bee- just tell him every single thing he loves about him and how good he's doing.

Bee loves how Longarm's body is all thick and plumpy. Loves to grope it when the mech least expects it during the fun. He's surprisingly flexible which allows them to try out a bunch of different poses.

Now for the bonus fun! AUs!

Cyberbeast AU (ProwlBee)

Prowl knows Cyberbeasts are like earth animals and that they too have their breeding season once a year. During that one week Prowl is basically kidnapped and ravaged over and over and over again- Bee, quite literally, is trying to breed him real good and Prowl loves it.

Prowl is into doing it while Bee's in his beast alt. He loves when Bee growls and bites at everything he can and rubs his scent on him. Even in half alts he does it.

Bee loves getting praise, he puts on intentionaly displays to further enchant his mate. Prowl is half into body worshipping Bee on this- he's just so amazed by the beauty of his one and only.

Prowl is always the bottom, he has no choice (not that he complains) but to get pinned down, barely able to ventilate and get wrecked.

Prowl actually persuaded Bee into wearing collars and leashes while they do it. They have a pet/owner roleplay whenever that happens.

Warframe!Bumblebee AU (BlitzBee)

Brasshorn/Bumblebee loves having Blitz immobilized and left to his mercy. He loves to be in control but in a way that'll let him drown Blitz in pleasure and bliss and not command him.

Brass/Bee loves to praise Blitz and worshipping his frame as if it was the most perfect one to ever exist.

Blitz really wants to top but Brass/Bee doesn't let him, only for special occasions (he has to be functional for work).

Blits is into BDSM and really wants to be ravaged by his mate but Brass/Bee is always careful with him- unless he begs long enough, then he'll wreck him in the best ways possible straight on his workbench.

Civil!Blitzwing AU (BlitzBee)

Blitzwing loves when Bee dirty talks and degrades him, Bee loves when Blitz praises him.

Blitz loves a bit of pain play- he's full of dirty little secrets he has yet to uncover.

Part-Insecticon!Bumblebee AU (BlitzBee)

Feeding kink. After hatching from the cocoon, Bee can produce honey. Blitzwing loves to eat it, more so when Bee sits on top of him and feeds it to him- even more so when it's mouth-to-mouth and they can enjoys all the sweetest kisses in the world.

Praise and worship, wings specifically. fligh frames have in-build thing for wings; Blitz adores Bee's sparkly wings and knowing their history he doesn't hold back about them when he's praising Bee. Bee is often too overstimulated to do the same but he'll let Blitz know by grabbing his wings and caressing/pulling at them.

Bee has a valve under his abdomen after hatching, and it gets really leaky when the two have fun. Blitzwing has Bee (carefully) pinned down with one servo while he passionatelly make out with him, ravages Bee's insides with his tentacles, and roughly fingers the valve giving Bee way too much stimulation on all ends. Bee loves it, even though he's numb for the entire day afterwards.

Bee loves to rub himself on Blitzwing and leave the sweet perfume on him, Bee got claws too so he'll leave tiny scratches on Blitz- most often his wings, to claim him into the hive.

Sparkeater!Bumblebee AU (ShockBee)

Since Bee and Long/Shock can't really interface because of the risk of contracting the disease, they have to come up with other ways to pleasure themselves. One way is to self-service one another.

Long/Shock has acquired an improved lab protection shield-coat (force field that sits on you like a glove) before he came to earth, this allowed them to actually interface without (most of) the stress about transmitting the disease via energy/fluids. (it shift with the body but never lets anything inside)

It's a rarity for Bee and Long/Shock to play the life and death game, but when they do- Long/Shock brings Bee a live spark to devour before they have fun, Bee uses his sparkeater form to get all kinky with bondage and marking (always with protection). Long/Shock loves the sense of danger when Bee licks his tentacles, slowly inching closer to his spark chamber. Bee would never do this to him and with a tank occupied he's barely any hungry.

Also some stand-alone Bee kinks cuz I like him-

Bee loves dress up, he'll put on fancy lingerie for his beloved and behave the part of a good "caretaker" while pleasing his mate.

Bee is a certified top, sometimes he bottoms but mostly he's in charge. Tiny top bias showing-

Choking/Squishing/Size difference. He loves a good hefty mate, and almost everyone is bigger than him so it makes sense- the bigger the better.

Praise- this guy loves to get his ego rubbed, especially during fun times. He loves the attention thoroughly.

Always aftercare, he'll do his best to actually take care of his beloved after the fun.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Various crps x reader who struggles w/ self care

I miss old creepypasta fandom sometimes (unrelated to the post)

Characters: slenderman, eyeless jack, nina the killer, masky

Notes: reader is GN, can be read as romantic or platonic, very self indulgent for the admin but hes keeping it mostly open/vague so those can also enjoy this, admin uses any pronouns for nina

CWs: none

SLENDERMAN

still in love with the idea that hes not fully aware of your needs as a human but hes knows the bare basic minimum- something about him not being a human himself and not regularly interacting with them to know what to look out for blah blah blah/lh

notices youre a little more down than usual and he does his best to find out whats wrong- are you sick? tired? hurt? is his human okay? its kind of like seeing someone fret over their pet, except its this old cryptid and his human friend

mostly stands off to the side and quietly passes you some water and snacks, keeps your glass full so you dont have to keep getting up- or a bottle of water if you would prefer!

though its not unlikely for him to get more assertive with his care, he might just pull you away from bed and try to get you cleaned up. if you let him hes going to be doing everything for you

will interfere with outside things so you can have a day to yourself to rest and recover (ex. fizzing out work calls, messing with any electronics if anyone is bothering you, ect ect, god forbid someones actually making you feel horrible on purpose)

EYELESS JACK

very good at reminding you to drink water and take your meds (if you have them), i like to think that sometimes he lives vicariously through you because you can still eat human foods and that bleeds into generally what you need to put in your body-

what i mean to say is that he is great at keeping track of things for you if you struggle with it! time, energy, or just not having the motivation, hes making sure you get what you need even if you cant do it yourself

does his best to get you some extra boost of vitamins and stuff in an attempt to boost your energy/mood, obviously he knows its not going to be a magic fix but its better than nothing.. hes the one cooking though! for reasons that align with the first bullet point!

very straight forward and blunt when asking if theres anything wrong, he can come off as disinterested or annoyed based off of his tone but genuinely hes trying his best to help you open up... jack himself isnt used to opening up so he doesnt have much experience being gentle and soft

brushes through your hair before you both go to bed

NINA THE KILLER

nina can be a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to this sort of thing as they tend to not... take very good care of themselves.. though its mostly out of not remembering to keep to a routine

does her best to get you to go out and do something with her that will eventually lead to you taking care of yourself in some way- asking you out for lunch or doing an activity that gets you extremely messy so you have to go take a shower

if your lack of proper self care is caused by any personal struggles you may be facing, nina makes it more than clear that you can go to them to talk

easily the most non judgmental person ever, you can tell her nearly everything and shes not going to think of you any differently

opens up about her own struggles to make you feel less alone

THE monarch of reminding you to take your meds, if you have them

MASKY

watches you from the side like a cat, kind of just keeps an eye on you throughout the day to make sure you're still kicking

will push a plate of snacks and your meds to you- like a cursed little charcuterie board!

he would make you a meal but ignoring the fact hes not a good cook at all, he feels it would be easier on you to just have snacks.. better something than nothing

will keep you in bed if youre tired or sore, will keep you pinned to him if he needs to- you might just take it as him wanting to cuddle...

and he never cuddles so to you this is a once in a blue moon experience!

or do you need to get up and stretch? hes going to do something to get you up, be it pestering you until you come to get him to pipe down or trying to get your assistance for something

might even lift his mask up next to you to get you to brush his teeth with him

[fricklefracklefloof]

about me

taro

he/him (trans man)

20 yrs

wasian filipino-american (white passing)

sociology student

i draw mostly

fandom posts when i’m feeling silly

(i’m crazy about tma, soc, proseka, pokemon and being a furry and i tag it accordingly)

the eevee gif is what i look like irl

🩵

i can be slow to answer dms, i am a full-time student and i have a part-time job. i will try my best to answer/read asks but i receive a lot of them so please be patient with me and i apologize if some get lost.

i only reblog fundraiser posts that i have confirmed to be vetted/verified by a source that i trust. i am not equipped to be an official vetter. please use discretion and your best judgement when viewing my reblogs.

if you are a gazan, please know that you are loved and i am keeping you in my thoughts. i am sorry if i am slow to get to messages but i will try my best to respond appropriately. i care about every person who reaches out to me and i want you to know that.

🩵

can you make art for my gofundme campaign?

i would love to. please be aware that i have multiple people requesting art for me currently so i can’t guarantee it. art is a slow process for me and i want it to be the best it can be so that fundraisers can receive enough traction. i apologize if i can’t get to every request, but understand that i appreciate every single one.

can you make a post for my gofundme campaign?

see above. i can try, but it may take a while because i want your post to be the best it can be so that it gains more traction. information that makes the process MUCH easier is if i can find where you are verified and have a clear story to tell. i am sorry if i can’t get around to it. reblogging previously made posts is much easier for me so i’m happy to do that if you ask.

can you pin my fundraiser to your blog?

i will add it to this post.

do you take commissions?

as of right now, no, not officially.

can i tag you in a fundraiser post?

yes, absolutely.

🩵

help amal’s family evacuate gaza

amal’s story | donate | more info: @amalashuor

help muhammad get the treatment he needs

muhammad’s story | donate | more info: @noor-y-ashour

support eslam’s family in gaza

eslam’s story | donate | more info: @eslamfamily3

support afaf’s family in gaza

afaf’s story | donate | more info: @afafmasoud

[putyourhanddownmy]

Your pinned said to send an ask if i was jerking off to your blog… so.. Hi👉👈

Your posts about needy boys make me feel so wiggly and happy and wanted, and your posts about wanting to hold a boy’s dick while he pees make me really flustered cause i would LOVE to get so comfotable around someone to let that level of intimacy happen, to let each other into a normally quite private part of ourselves… I of course would also love to watch/hold you in return~

But mostly I wanted to send an ask about a post of yours where you were talking about bulges; specifically, do you have a favorite positioning of bulge? Favorite angle? Favorite materials to view them through? Cause bulges can go tucked forwards, which makes an outward bulge supported by the balls, or it can go down and to the sides which is easier in boxers, or it can go up and to the sides which really shows off the shape in tight underwear.

Uhh… anyway, sorry. I’m autistic as hell if you couldn’t tell, but you seem really pretty and that scrambles my brain a bit so uhh, keep being horny? (Affectionate)

-LLB

i will keep being horny no one can stop me 😤 thank u for the long ask bby it was a lovely read!

honestly? i love bulge in all its forms. literally anything. just bulge. it looks so pretty in like every way i stg. obsessed. addicted. gimme bulge!!!!

same as most people i do have a preference for bulge in grey sweatpants bcus i just...ugh what is it about them?? esp if there's a bulge AND a lil wet spot from precum!!! i just wanna rub my face against it-

also yes i wanna hold a guys dick while he pisses so so bad!!!! it would be so fun!!! like super hot to me bcus, well, piss kink! but also just yeah that trust and intimacy is 🫠

[finniestoncrane]

please, my oc, she is being passed around so many rogues it's not ok for her to keep dyeing her hair ;-;

there's some info on each of the variants below because it is self-indulgent and not interesting lmao 💚

music meister connie (the fat lady)

her power is her voice, kinda like black canary, but she is not afraid to gore a man with her little horns. the whole point of her being there is so that when batman has mm pinned to the ground and is saying "it's over, music meister" he can say "oh batman... it's not over... until the fat lady sings" and then connie can come in and. beat shit out of him

bookworm connie (dust cover)

she's sweet and soft and chunky and nerdy, so she's a perfect partner for bookworm i think. she would say "knowledge is power" if you asked her what she brought to a fight, but she can also use her little reading light as a laser that can cut a bitch

mad hatter connie (the tea lady)

this connie has no powers, except that she's not able to be hypnotised. the only reason she hangs out with tetch is cos she thinks he's neat. she makes excellent tea, and her cupcakes are little grenades

harley quinn connie (candyfloss)

clown-core connie is my new favourite? she has super strength like harley, those aren't juggling balls, they're cast iron shotput balls which she is happy to launch at people's heads or use them to bash bones into tiny little shards

scarecrow connie (strawman)

like a real strawman she's there to trick people into thinking jonathan is less powerful, so the fear toxin vials she carries and tosses at people are placebos so they lower their guard before the real master of fear rocks up with the lethal dose

two face connie (3D)

i'm gonna be honest this design got away from me and i ended up making a whole new oc for it. oops. anyway this one can warp the environment and make people think she's a lot closer or further away from her to disorient them and make attacking them easier. or something. i don't know i didn't think it through i got distracted by the concept

poison ivy connie (petal)

no powers. she's kinda part plan but that's only because ivy has been up and in her so frequently she's kinda got some spores forming all through her. if she needs to fight, she tosses cactuses at people. she's not really for fighting, she's for ivy to play with mostly

[catboybiologist]

I'm trans! Here's a way-too-long ramble on my internal thoughts on that!

My other posts on this:

https://www.tumblr.com/catboybiologist/725852054829023232/im-going-to-document-some-things-about-my?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/catboybiologist/725851397783011328/the-short-answer-is-no-but-im-gonna-have-a?source=share

So yay I’m trans! Which like, is neither unexpected nor abnormal for the community I’ve fostered here, so I’m guessing most of y’all’s reactions is just a “hey cool”. But, you see the online side of me, not the irl side, so there’s still a lot of thoughts to sort out on my end. So I’m dumping a lot of thoughts here to sort all that out. And hoooly shit, it got very long, and I still feel like I have more to say… but yeah. If you wanna hear some perspectives on my relation to gender, transness, and femboy culture, read on!

I guess the best way I can think to style this is as an interview with an imaginary third person, sooo…. Bold text is questions I can imagine people having LOL

So what’s my own personal relationship with the term femboy, catboy, and gendered terminology in general? Is the name of your accounts gonna change?

Short answer, no. I like the name CatboyBiologist. “Catboy” itself is a term that is completely untethered from gender at this point to me. Tbqh, the “cat” part feels more wrong than the boy part- as time goes on, I’ve generally ditched the cat ears for most of my outfits as I take them a bit more seriously. Maybe that’ll change when my transition actually starts, but for now, CatboyBiologist stays, and the femboy related language stays in all of my own past posts (keyword, past- more on that in a bit).

I’m not gonna be updating my approach to pronouns. Any pronouns do just fine, I’m sending a vibe into the world and pronouns are my feedback as to what other people interpret that vibe is. Default to they/them if you don’t know what to do with that.

I will be updating my pinned post to link all of these posts, but mostly copy/paste the information from before. That might take a moment cuz I’m lazy, tbh.

And let’s get something else out of the way.

I’m not socially transitioning yet, and probably won’t for a while.

Which, I think leads to a lot of follow up:

Well, why not?

I present fully male and masculine on a day to day basis, and look the part too. Part of it is just this looks insecurity. The mask stays on in my pictures for a reason. Beyond just facial hair (which grows aggressively on me and always shows some shadow), my face looks pretty masculine overall. It takes time to look the way I do in my posts. I wanna give my face and body some time to change so I can look more femme in more casual ways before I present it to the world.

Beyond that, I’m also just worried about being “accepted” as femme straight off the bat. Implicitly, I know this will be easier if I already have some small amounts of physical feminization down my belt.

There’s two main environments that worry me: family, and professionally. Family is a weird hot mess grey area that is too personal to talk about here, but the professional atmosphere is certainly going to be a bit… weird. I live in an accepting geographic region, and around people who are very outspokenly trans supportive…. But most of whom are cishet and simply don’t have a lot of experience seeing or working around trans people. I’m more afraid of being seen as “trans first, biologist second” as far as my career is concerned, than I am about outright transphobia. I know this will never fully go away, and given that I’m 6’2”, I’ll probably never “fully” pass- but I’d at least like people to implicitly read my as femme on a gut level before I start changing how I present that way. One thing my irl femboy experience has shown me is that, even if people can “clock” you intellectually, the way their gut instinct reads you affects whether they treat you as masc or femme. I hope that makes sense on some level. Of course its always going to be an awkward shift, but I hope some time on HRT will make it less awkward.

I’ve come out to one person that doesn’t know about this online persona, or the depths of my queerness. They straight up told me they were shocked. They were incredibly supportive, but they told me they didn’t see it coming at all. And they already knew that I “crossdressed occasionally”. So that’s kinda what I’m working with here.

Essentially, I’m not actually truly “transitioning” in a real sense yet. More than that, I feel like I’m getting the ball rolling. If there’s anything I learned in my research, it’s that HRT takes a while, much longer than anyone expects (suppressing my rant about how the media cherrypicks people in early transition for trans representation and the effect that has on public perception). Two years is often cited as the “end” point, but based on both scientific and anecdotal accounts, that is wildly untrue and variable. I also know that the first changes onset quickly (skin and mood, most notably), but that overall body shape changes sometimes take a VERY long time to start and progress. So to be quite honest, I barely feel like I’m transitioning yet, I’m just laying groundwork for the future.

So yeah. I’m gonna be boymoding for a bit. Possibly a year or more. Even for the people who know, I’ve still asked them to address me as he/him or they/them, and use my masculine name for now (haven’t even really decided on a femme name yet, although I have ideas [open to suggestions as well]).

Wait, so why address it online at all?

Put simply, honesty. I’m displaying a lot of selfies and experimentation with my look here, and I want to make it abundantly clear what I’m doing to have an effect on that. People have asked me if I’m on HRT in comments before, and like, I’m not gonna lie about that. Might as well also make a shitpost, a data gathering post, and a too-long ramble about it as well (which you’re reading now!).

There are a LOT of body image issues in femboy spaces (and trans spaces too!), often among very young people. While I have no issue with people on HRT continuing to call themselves a femboy (more on that in a bit), I do think transparency on that matter is helpful for those body image issues.

So to make it abundantly clear: all of my selfies and pictures that I’m labeling and tagging as “femboy” are pre-HRT. In the future, everything I tag with “trans” is post-HRT. I still got 1-2 weeks before actually starting, and I’m still going to use the femboy tag for any outfits I post during that time. The moment an estradiol pill hits my mouth, though, new pics will use trans tags.

Posts that relate to discussion of the interplay of the communities, and how I view myself within them, I’ll tag with both.

Which leads to another follow up question. This one isn’t about me specifically, but it’s my hot take about a certain brand of trans discourse I’ve seen around (mostly on reddit tbh):

Why would someone who knows they’re mtf trans willingly call themselves a femboy and/or request people to “misgender” them?

So this is actually gonna be striking a nerve with me, and I know I’m gonna kinda be strawmanning here by arguing against the ghost of reddit comments past. I’m not gonna try to dig any of them up in the internet archive, but they are sentiments I’ve seen multiple times.

I’ve seen this question almost word for word in the comments of trans subreddits multiple times. Imma be blunt, and it’s maybe gonna sound a little mean. If this thought is going through your head, you’re likely way more sensitive and particular about labels than most people. And that’s okay! Ask people to address you how you want, you deserve that respect! But the real answer to this question is that many people simply don’t mind being called whatever label is most useful or familiar to themselves in various contexts.

The moment that it becomes completely unacceptable is when someone does actually change their pronouns, name, presentation, etc, and people still address them as “male” or “femboy”. That is completely the fuck out of line, and if you don’t agree, fuck off.

Why does this strike a little bit of a nerve with me? Well, the “conclusion” I saw reached in these trans spaces multiple times when the subject was brought up was annoying as hell. That conclusion was that the only or primary reason that people labeled themselves a femboy, even while on HRT… was to sell their onlyfans. My fucking god, seriously? This is just conservative rhetoric. Luckily, on tumblr, it seems that people are a lot more accepting towards people using whatever language they like to describe themselves, which I’ve enjoyed a lot.

I’ve also had a lot of hate towards “fencesitting” directed at me on reddit, from trans people, for calling myself a femboy. I can’t remember it verbatim, but I very distinctly recall getting a DM that went something like “I fucking hate femboys, just transition already. You’re making us (transfemmes) look bad.” So yeah. Bit of a sore spot.

Yadda yadda yadda the personal journey shit

If I can be real for a moment…. In an ideal world, I would still want to be a part time femboy. Even moreso than the sheer utility of it all (eg, enjoy cis male privilege when I want, but still get treated more femme in certain contexts), it feels almost more profound to fuck with gender norms without sitting on one side of the gender line or another. But I can’t really ignore what I’ve described as my “mental resting state”- a baseline crackle of dysphoria that fills the space in my head when there’s nothing else to fill it. It’s easily distracted, but its always there, and I can’t imagine living my life that way anymore.

I’ve pretty much known I was trans since I was about 12, and had a realization that puberty was just starting to hit me, and I hated it. I suppressed it deeply, for many, many reasons that I don’t think I want to share here. But it made a lot of other mental health struggles in my life a lot worse, even if I didn’t consciously acknowledge that’s what was happening. By the time I was willing to consciously acknowledge it, I realized that my dysphoria wasn’t so bad as to dive in right away. But, I made moves to stabilize my life overall, which have been massively beneficial to me in other ways as well.

During the pandemic, I found myself living alone for the first time ever. So during the pandemic, in one last ditch effort to try to convince myself I wasn’t trans, I delved into femboy aesthetics to try and “just be a feminine man”.

That failed.

So yeah, here I am. I have a wonderful queer community both irl and online, a meagre but stable income, health insurance that has great coverage for trans care, and accepting people around me in my life. It’s long overdue. Maybe I’ll beat myself up for waiting so long and masculinizing so much as a result, but I don’t think I really could have done it any other way.

This all said, I don’t actually really consider myself a woman yet. I’m sure many of you are aware of two different ways transfemmes view themselves(and trans people in general, but using a transfemme perspective here):

-Some view themselves as having always been girls or women, but took some time to realize it and make their body more comfortable for themselves with that information.

-Others view themselves as boys or men who made efforts to become women later.

I fall strongly in the second line of thinking for myself. For my own personal experiences, even though I have felt dysphoria for a long time, I don’t really think I’m “actually” a woman yet. I don’t know what my identity as a woman looks like yet. But I deeply want to discover and create who that person is, and there’s no way to do that without transitioning.

B but… BASIC BIOLOGY!!!!!

How many biology degrees do you have? I got a BS and an MS, and I’m working on my PhD. I’m sure you’ve brought a similar level of expertise to this discussion.

But seriously, I could genuinely write an entire fucking essay about how studying biology has influenced my views on this subject, but honestly, that’s an entirely different topic. But tl;dr is that bioessentialism is brainrot, and if someone tries to use essentialist language to “justify” someone’s transness (or gender in general)… well, I think they’re wrong. Plain and simple. We don’t say someone isn’t “really able to see” if they put glasses in front of their eyes.

I’m stopping myself before I write more here, because this warrants another post or even a fucking video essay, to be quite honest. But yeah. Biology based.

Conclusion?

Uhhhh… in conclusion, I’m not particular about language or pronouns you use for me, I’m making posts about it anyways to ensure honesty associated with my selfies, if you’re transphobic jump of the tallest bridge you can find. I think that about covers it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[one-annon]

Hi!! Just wanted to say your writing is amazing:D

What do you think the Sawyer brothers were like in middle school or high school (if they even went there, lol?) If you don’t like this request feel free to ignore!

i love this question!! ill do it sawyer by sawyer to keep it all organized :) also thank you so much for your kind words! i try my best with these..even if they take 3-5 business days.. this is also rather short..i apologize..

DRAYTON

due to the way drayton spells sex (scex) i imagine he didnt get a great education. i think he was either homeschooled or was pulled out of school early on in his life.

hes the eldest and i think he was heavily affected by his family's money issues after the slaughterhouse was shut down. maybe he was pulled out of school afterward? i just know he probably didnt get past middle school.

even if he did, i dont think he would survive in highschool. let alone stay in it for long. since his family needed help with their whole cannibalism act plus grandpa and grandma needed someone to care for them, he wouldve dropped out and stayed to help out.

once they got older and the twins were born, drayton tried his best to help his family make a little bit more money for his brothers to go to school. he genuinely cares about them, he just doesnt admit it nor does he know how to show it

most of the english he's learned is from his grandmother teaching him and his work in the gas station! she also used the gas station to teach him math :)

CHOPTOP

hes either a choir kid or a theater kid. probably a theater kid. as a theater kid i can confirm i in fact act like choptop

during highschool he was in his emo/goth/all american massacre phase. when he was a freshman he would help out just a little with his family's money issues - giving kids weed in trade for money.

him and nubbins were troublemakers - always having to be seperated. the only problem is how bad their separation anxiety gets. the twins never stay apart for long. both of them will kick and scream if theyre seperated and highschool wasnt any different.

out of all the brothers, i think choptop is the smartest. his experience in the military really helped him with his education and he was able to learn so much. i think he had a pin pal at some point and that definitely helped him with his writing!!

he wasnt able to fully complete highschool because of the draft but he was at least about to get to 11th grade :)

NUBBINS

nubbins was definitely a struggler in school. he didnt really understand what was being taught no matter how he was taught. teachers have tried to tutor him and he just never understood it

choptop helped him a lot with getting him to understand. he would sit with nubbins at the dining room table and help him through their math homework, help him with english essays, anything he needs. he would explain it in a way nubbins could understand easier!

he was very dependent on choptop throughout highschool. they were always seen together

i dont know how to explain it but nubbins really likes comic books. theyre a lot easier for him to read, especially with the pictures

grandpa also read him a lot of books when he was younger! according to nubbins, he's grandpa's favorite

BUBBA

there really isnt much to say about bubba? his parents didnt really see a use of sending him to school

he was mostly homeschooled by the twins..who would always try to get him to say words

at the very least he knows how to write his name and he can understand what his siblings ask of him. he tries! really he goes off of tone of voice for how he reacts

[emptydoorways]

 𝄞 EMPTY DOORWAYS „

  + brand new look, same great taste!

i. about me⠀|⠀ii. tags⠀|⠀iii. socials

iv. my fandoms⠀|⠀v. frequent fronters

 

 ♪  i. ABOUT ME ... hello! i'm henry (it/he), and i'm the guy who runs the blog and also am the host of the system. we don't have time to get into all that, though.

i'm primarily an artist, but i also occasionally mess around with text posts and edits, and i write on the side. it's gonna be a mixed bag with my content, so be ready!

i'm also liable to just... post things. like random thoughts or headcanons or character analysis and sometimes just absolutely incompressible nonsense. so if you see me on your dash with posts that read like i'm standing in front of a corkboard with pins and red string, this is your fair warning.

 

 ♪  ii. TAGS ... to make navigating my block a little bit easier, here's a list of tags i use and what they're for!

 ♩  #doorways art ... for finished pieces, or works with more effort put into them.

 ♫  #doorways doodles ... for wips, or just silly little doodles.

 ♩  #doorways chats ... this is what i'll post things like headcanons, random thoughts, etc.

 ♩  #doorways writing ... for snippets of fics, or links to entire works (AO3 only).

 ♫  #doorways asks ... every post that is me responding to an ask will have this tag.

 ♩  #doorways drafts ... they probably should have stayed in drafts, but...

 ♫  #doorways reblogs ... what it says on the tin, i'll put this tag on anything i reblog from anyone else.

 ♫  #attorney crossing... for the silly little au in which everything is generally the exact same, but they're all silly little animals, in a sort of aggretsuko or animal crossing way.

 ♫  #doorways sillys ... for random miscellaneous nonsense shitposts.

 ♩  #objection is magic ... ace attorney, but if they were my little ponies. i might not post about this much, but if i do... you're welcome? i guess?

 ♫  #twitch attorney ... for the collab au between me and a friend that's ace attorney, but they're all minecraft twitch streamers.

 ♩  #ventureverse ... an original cast based in an mlp G4 adjacent universe, that's meant to have a more dnd-like plot than anything.

 

 ♪  iii. SOCIALS ... this one will be short, this is just gonna compile all my socials and important links into one short place. ps, my side blog for reblogs and misc stuff is @emptierdoorways!!

 ♩  socials ... discord , twitter , tiktok , ao3

 ♫  links ... rentry , carrd , shop

 

 ♪  iv. MY FANDOMS ... another quick one! this one is mostly important so you can know what you'll see my post about. i'll almost exclusively post about the first two, but anything after is a general possibility you may see on my blog. main ones are bolded!

 ♩  spinterests ... ace attorney, pokémon, my little pony, vocaloid, dying light

 ♫  hyperfixes ... cookie run, resident evil... other things?

 ♩  shows ... arcane, good omens, sweet tooth, inside job, our flag means death, be and puppycat

 ♫  games ... ddlc, danganronpa, fnaf, undertale/deltarune, the sims, rhythm games (generally), wobbledogs

 ♩  music ... will wood, mitski, adrianne lenker, phoebe bridgers, weird al, ewao, modern baseball, the front bottoms, glass beach, mcr, +more

 ♫  misc ... wings of fire, mcyt (very select few cc)

 

 ♪  v. FREQUENT FRONTERS ... hey, remember when i said we didn't have time to get into all of that right now? guess what! now we do! we're getting into it now. we're a p-did system and these are our frequent fronters, their pronouns, their role, and their signoff. which may or may not be important, but just in case.

 ♩  henry (me) ... host, it/he — n/a

 ♫  charlie ... idk, he/they/it — 🦠

 ♩  edward ... private role, he/it — <?>

 ♫  klein ... the gay one?, he/she — 🗯️

 ♩  kristoph ... protector, he/him — 🎻

 

 ♪  vi. FIN ... and that's a wrap! thanks for tagging along for this obnoxiously long intro post. i'll see you around! ta-ta!

        — emptydoorways 𖹭

[forkingandcountry-if]

Hi! I hope you're doing good :) read your demo pretty recently and its really nice so far! You seem to have put a lot of thought in the world building, can't wait to read more!

I had a few questions, mostly about Galderquid and more specifically its applications and the way they might translate in-game:

For archery and blade-use, is there a specific reason why they're restricted to matierializing bows/arrows and blades?

Do its users (and potentially the MC) have to specialize in a specific application?

More generally, will the MC be able to specialize in a certain field such as diplomacy or are they expected to be rather proficient in everything?

Sorry if these have already been answered!

Also, if I can give you a little piece of advice, I think it would probably make it easier for people to access the demo if you put the link right at the top of your pinned post. Right now it's a bit unnoticeable stuck in the bottom of the "additional" section lol.

Glad you enjoyed it, I answer your queries as best I can under the cut.

1. The restriction to materializing bows, arrows, and blades is mainly due to tradition and practice. These are the weapons that have been taught and mastered over generations. While there’s no inherent in-world reason the MC couldn’t learn to manifest something like a lance or shield or mace, they would struggle to find any teachers for those. So, while it’s possible, they’d likely be less skilled at using them compared to more conventional weapons. It really comes down to what’s been passed down and practiced.

2. The MC can definitely learn multiple applications of Galderquid, but mastery across all areas isn't feasible. It's about how much time and effort you invest. You could, for example, excel at both archery and blade-use but struggle significantly with clerisy. Specializing in a few things will yield the best results.

3. As for other areas like diplomacy or specific skills outside the MC's general IC education, these would fall under the realm of specialised skills or sub-skills. So, yes, diplomacy (even if it goes by a different name) could definitely be an area the MC focuses on, depending on what they choose to invest in.

And thank you for the advice regarding the link to the demo!