#those who love me will understand me. those who don't... don't have to understand me.

[soulsforsales]

Tim Drake and Jason Todd

There are characters you like but then there are characters you end up thinking about in the middle of the night with a cosmic ache in your chest because they resonate with you so much

[estcaligo]

Sebek's scars

Sebek x reader, romantic A/N Technically, this shouldn't be a part of my I Love Everything About You series because it's not in the right format. But a sudden drabble formed in my head while I was rereading Sebek's Scales this morning, so I've decided to include it as a special piece.

Sebek's scales are a wonderful idea, but I need to talk about his scars.

I mentioned once his lightning scars from using his unique magic, but what about his regular ones? He has been through intense training, survival camps, combat practice, and weapon mastery. There have to be some scars on his body.

So I find myself wondering - do they (Lilia, Mama Zigvolt, or Baul) erase these marks with magic, or do they let them remain? I hope they don't remove them.

Because then, you could trace them, kiss them, and tell him how strong he is. And he'd become all smug about it, proudly recounting the stories behind each one.

Of course, he'd mention Malleus at least ten times, declaring that it's an honor to bear these marks - medals of valor earned in the service of protecting his king.

But then, as your hand gently traces along his body, you notice a small scar that appears fresh. Before you can ask about it, he suddenly tenses, trying to cover it up, his usual bravado faltering. For the first time, you catch a glimpse of shyness in his movements.

"I'm sorry, does that hurt?" you ask softly, making sure his reaction isn't caused by pain.

"No, pain is not the matter here" he replies, trying to sound indifferent.

"Oh, good. Then… what's the story behind this one?" you're careful with your question, but try to meet his eyes.

He hesitates for a few moments before finally saying "This one is because of you."

"What? I-I'm so sorry!" your first reaction is panic, as he doesn't elaborate. "D-did I hurt you somehow? If I did, then I'm really s-”

"Ha! As if a weak human like you could hurt me!" his bravado returns as he smirks.

Then, taking your hand, he presses it gently against the scar.

"This one," he says "is from when I saved you from that darkness during our dream-hopping journey! You're such a weak human - what were you thinking, jumping in there…?"

You remember that moment, when Sebek had actually saved your life - one of many, many times. He has never mentioned scars obtained because of you before, though. Is that why he was acting nervous?

"Oh… I see. Thank you, Seb, and… I am sorry." you slowly start to pull your hand away from his body, but he suddenly grabs it, holding it firmly as he meets your gaze.

"Stop apologizing! Or do you think such a trifle is something to worry about for me?" his voice is a little louder than before, and you notice a hint of blush on his cheeks.

"I'm just sorry that you have to bear it because of me now…" you murmur, still sounding guilty.

"Were you listening to me just now? Or are your human ears too weak for even my voice to reach them?!"

You blink at him in confusion. His grip on your hand tightens slightly.

"I just said that bearing scars for protecting those who are dear is a great honor for a warrior!"

"But that was about Lord Malleus-"

"About Lord Malleus, of course. But also…" his voice drops to a quieter tone. "This applies to you, too."

For a moment, there's only silence between you, the weight of his words settling like a promise.

"As long as these scars mean you are safe, I shall bear them as my armor. Do you understand?" his gaze is still locked on you - serious and unwavering.

And you return his steadfast look with a gentle smile, leaning in to draw him into your embrace.

"Bear your armor with pride then, my warrior." you whisper. "And I will make sure no scar ever reaches your heart."

[urstruly-ghst]

the challenge - rook hunt !

in which the challenge you set out for is now in full swing (inspired by epic: the musical with the song, the challenge).

authors note: epic the musical my beloved. i love love love this request submitted by @padf-0-ot ! thank you for waiting; im sorry it took a while, im managing tho

requested ask !

cw: may not understand if you don't know the context of epic/the odyssey

rook hunt

wearing the crown was a heavy responsibility, it had been placed on you since you were born. it was what came to be with the blood you hone beneath your skin. however, that duty carried was always alleviated with rook by your side. he was the one who made your crown a secod thought, contrary to what you grew up with.

but, it soon occured to you it would be heavy on your head once more; rook hunt was lost in a mission, it was supposed to end quickly, but he didn't return. neither did his comrades. there was no word, no letter, not even a sign from any other kingdom. that worried you, that worried the kingdom. each one of your subjects looked at the empty throne beside you, sharing that worry and fear (or perhaps, they all share the glory of seeing you reign alone.)

each men rally up, their thoughts of ascending to the social ranks clouded their empathy. the suitors know how grievous it must be to be alone, holding onto the hope that rook was not dead, but they also seem not to care. there was no king, no one to share your burdens, surely you'd want company?

no matter their attempts to take the throne, you'd stall. it was an array of stalling, you used up every excuse you can try. first it was grief, second was the state was in a crisis, and now.... they've grown impatient. it has been years, yet the throne gets colder as the king fails to return or send a sign. will he ever return?

"i refuse!" you yell as the council all stare. it was you who had the power, why was the council allowing such arrangements to happen?they sat in front of you, the crown, and begged for you to marry a suitor.

how dare they ask that from you? after all your work to keep the crisis at bay, they repay you with a torturous task?

"your majesty, this is what would further benefit our kingdom. you have stalled long enough." the eldest council proclaimed as they showcased data and news from the kingdom. morale is low. especially after the storm that struck your shores.

you glare as you saw the undeniable problem and the solution was clear as day. you couldn't hold onto the thrown nor the crisis forever, but...

you had hope. rook hunt was out there, you could feel it in your bones. there was no way he'd be dead. the council looks at you, waiting on your next word, your plan.

"i have one more challenge. this is the last one. bring me to the armory." you say as you surrendered. but even if you surrendered, you wouldn't allow them, not even for a second, to think they had their wishes granted.

---

you glare as you held your husband's bow as the guards open the gates to your throne room. the suitors chattered amongst themselves but soon silenced as they saw you enter.

"this here is my husband's bow." you say as you raised the bow, it was sturdy, comically large, and a symbol of his prowess. "it has long snapped, but none can restring it. my challenge is this,"

you unveil the axes that were lined up, "whoever strings this bow, and shoot through these axes cleanly..." you hesitate, "will became the new king, my new husband"

"that's what those were for" one suitor said, "it doesn't make sense!" the other proclaimed

the mumurs were loud, each suitor boasting or complaining over the challenge, you glare at them as you see them scramble to get to the bow.

among the crowds was your husband, rook, who stood silent by the pillars. rook laughed at how gullible these men were to believe that they can even string the bow. it takes a wit of the hunt's to know how to string it, it was a family heirloom. it curved weirdly, deceiving those who do not know to string it properly.

but he watched, in amusement. it was all their efforts that made it a comedy. rook watched each suitor try and try as they struggled to even get the string on the end of the bow. rook watched as each suitor soon gave up on even the bow, feeling the dismay build up. in his ragged clothes, rook hid in the shadows noting every weakness and strengths of each man.

“such a shame, these men seem to lack the knowledge to know a deception” rook muttered in sadness as he circled around them. the last suitor dropped the bow and screamed in the room,

“screw this competition. don’t you see we’re being played?!” it was an outraged yell as they point at the throne room, as if they’re trying to yell at you for this competition. and by virtue, they were being played, rook can appreciate this from the man. At the very least, one man knew his queen’s wit. 

as the suitors gather around feeling they’re now understanding the consequences of their foolish parade around the bow, rook swiftly takes the bow and strings it with ease. unknown to him, rook was being watched by the sidelines. you were there, seeing him in silence, not recognizing him and had your heart beat in anticipation as the bow was being strung.

thwack! 

the arrow flew gracefully to the end, hitting the target on the wall. the chatter died down, as the riot that was bubbling over ended. the arrow stabbed firmly on the end of the target, it made the suitors shut up. rook revealed his identity by letting his hood and shadow go, revealing a disheveled man who’s eyes were tired but victorious.

“mon dieu! it was painful to watch this challenge be failed by my country’s men, it is a simple test of wit.” rook smiled as he waved the strung bow, and the men were confused, it looked so normal in the king’s hand. 

“how?!” one yelled, the others were scrambling trying to see if this was a trick, did he hide the other bow? who was he? how dare he win the challenge!

“rook?” you whisper as you open the throne room, the light shining brightly.

“mon amour.” rook replied with a smile. 

[thedragonofbadasstemple]

I don't normally comment on posts like this, but obsessed with the take as well that the point of this is to "cheer for them". The project is collecting testimonies from people who were involved with the MAGA movement, explaining why they fell into it, and why they left. We NEED stories like this to understand others and their viewpoints. We can't change people's minds, much less help them, if we can't understand why they think they way they do, or why the made the decisions that they did. Not everyone who voted for Trump did so for the same reason. Not everyone who wears a MAGA hat wears it for the same reason. A personal example, my father and my sibling both voted for Trump. My father blindsided me by this. He didn't vote for him the first two times, but did this time. With a sigh he explained his reason as "I watched the debates. He had a plan for the economy. Kamala didn't." He's a disabled vet. He works two jobs and my mom brings in more money than him. He's sick. He's a wounded dog that reached out for a shred of hope where he saw it. I know its misguided. I know that he made a lot of mistakes in life that led to where he is now, and that the economy is not to blame for his current predicament, but he can't see that. He has an entire lived experience different than mine that led up to this. My sibling is bisexual and transgender. He is 1.75 years younger than me. He is autistic and very mentally ill. He has never moved out from our parent's house, despite having thousands of dollars saved. He enjoys Warhammer 40k. He is a MAGA cultist. This is a change that happened out of nowhere for me. He blindsided me three years ago when we were hanging out on Christmas Eve and he wanted to show me Ben Shapiro stuff. I was surprised. I asked how could he watch that kind of stuff when he was queer and trans. He just responded "why are you bringing identity politics into this?" Its only gotten worse from there. Despite being trans himself, and despite me being his biggest ally and supporter for coming out to our parents, he misgenders me and says that he "doesn't believe in non-binary". He gets mad when I shit talk Trump and Elon. He is someone who doesn't always have a grip on reality, treats everything as a personal attack against him, and has little self-confidence. He has always been someone easily persuaded by others. Hes always had a nasty selfish streak. it makes absolute sense to me that he would end up falling into a hateful cult that would make him feel better than other people. If you have a loved one in the MAGA cult, you need to understand how they got to that point if you want to help them and get them out. If you want to be politically active and engage with other people of opposing viewpoints, then you need to know what those viewpoints are and why they hold those views in order to debate them. If you don't care, then you don't care. Not your circus, not your monkeys. But this information is valuable, even if its not relevant to you. No one is asking you to bend over backgrounds and congratulate anyone. This is just information for those who would seek it. That's all.

This is an interesting thing. Looks like testimonies of people who left the MAGA movement- how they got into it and why.

Leaving a cult is really hard, so I really respect the people who are speaking from this place.

[feyburner]

hello, i hope you're doing well, the world keeps getting crazier which means that i'm spending more time on fanfictions and i've been thinking about your jaytim fics. particularly, jason and how human he is when you write him. his awkwardness bc he was dead for a while and then doing. not very good. and how he probably has to catch up on simple stuff like who even taught him how to shave??? sure he learnt how to wire bombs but that didn't leave much time for stuff like sexuality and romance? just some experiences that he was robbed off. also very much interested in your take on jason's morality re: killing and what it means to him. anyways i'll dive back into my jason comic marathon <3

God yeah I think about this all the time, it's one of the things that interests me most about his character. Like how fucked up to die at 15 and wake up at like 18 and immediately launch yourself into your big crazy revenge plot that you think it's going to make you feel less howling animal inside but all it does is destroy your chances at ever having like, a normal interaction. By the time you calm down a little you've basically skipped from 15 to like 20. And everyone around you is also a freak who will never live a normal life and some have even also died but you're the only one missing a huge chunk out of your formative years. (Don't care about conflicting canon timelines or retcons.) (I also like this on a meta level bc it mirrors the fact that Jason was For Real Dead from 1988-2005.)

Re: morality, killing: A lot of his character is about catharsis to me. He is hotheaded and impulsive and direct and unsubtle (see: heads in a duffel bag) in a way the other Bats aren't. Who among us hasn't seen a news story and thought "I don't believe in state-sanctioned violence but damn, someone should kill that guy"? He is the guy who kills that guy. And sometimes it's for "noble" reasons and sometimes it isn't, and sometimes he might like to think it is but it isn't, and sometimes it immediately backfires and makes things worse for the people he is trying to help, and it can and has made him a hypocrite. It is also, I believe, an understandable stance for someone who was murdered as a child by a guy famous for essentially walking around wearing a T-shirt that says "I Love Hurting and Killing People (and I'm Definitely Going to Do It Again)." Bruce doesn't kill people because senseless violence made him an orphan. Jason kills people because senseless violence made him dead. Of course a child who lived and a child who died would look at death from opposite sides. It destroyed both of them at a formative age in opposite ways. Bruce crystallized around the after, and Jason around the before. I think it makes perfect sense that for the rest of their lives they would keep seeing only the after, and only the before, and in doing so keep looking past each other.

I feel like a lot of Jason meta is either "The Bats are so naive, Jason is the only realist" OR "Here's why Batman is right and Jason is an irredeemable monster" or whatever. Neither of those readings are compelling to me. I don't care which character is "right" or "good." If I wanted to read about good people making morally airtight choices I would go read Goofus and Gallant but only the Gallant parts and then kill myself. None of the Bats act in a way that aligns with my real-life morals. I think the "killing question" is most interesting viewed in the context of an individual character's relationship with violence and justice and atonement and forgiveness and consequences and least interesting in the context of pitting characters against each other to determine Who's Right and Who's Wrong.

I wrote the following exchange a while back as an exercise to explore this very topic.

Warning for CSA mention below the cut.

-

“I mean, hell, what if he got hit by a bus? Anyone can die, any time. Think of me as a big angry red bus.” Tim’s eyes on him feel like burning, but not so immediate as fire. More like the warning heat of sunburn: for now a faint prickling, for weeks after an ache. “End of the day? I don’t think he should be alive. I don’t think the state should get to decide who lives and who dies, but I’m not the state. And I know people can be rehabilitated. I know there’s a chance he could change, and never do it again, and spend the rest of his days saving kittens and helping little old ladies cross the street. But from what I’ve seen, this kinda guy, we’re talking a puny fucking chance. There’s people the system fails and people who could be helped by a better system and then there’s people who aren’t gonna fucking change. They’re just gonna keep doing awful shit, because it gets them off. Hurting kids. Hurting anyone they think is less powerful, or less of a person. Fuck that. The thing is, I know they’re people. And I’m a person too. And I don’t have the fucking right. To be the arbiter of fucked-up justice or whatever. But you know what? I can’t find it in me to give a shit. If those scumbags wanna kill me back, they can have at it, that’s their prerogative. Until then, some fuck rapes a five-year-old? No, fuck that. What if he does it again? He’s already done it. Hurt that kid forever. Snuffed out that thing inside them, whatever it is that makes kids think the world isn’t a shitshow. Can’t unring that fucking bell. Why should he—once was too many! Don’t you get it? That kinda guy—once was already too many! Why should he get to do it twice? And so fucking many of ‘em do it twice. Can’t keep your hands off a little kid? Fuck you. Headshot. Problem solved. You can’t change my mind about this, Red. I didn’t make the choice to kill people on a fucking whim. I thought about Hell and decided I’m up for it. Alright? Fuck off.” 

“You don’t have to convince me.” 

“And another thing—” His mouth clicks shut. “I—what?” 

“I said you don’t have to convince me.” Tim examines his glass, tilting the last swallow of watery gin back and forth. “If I were going to argue with you, I suppose I’d quote a statistic about how something like 93% of childhood sexual abuse is perpetuated from within the immediate family, and killing the abuser could drastically destabilize the child’s living situation and potentially place them at risk for other types of harm—”

“There’s nothing stable about—!”

“—but I’m not going to argue with you, because I don’t want to, because frankly I don’t care. I should—some days I’m better, and I do—but I don’t at the moment. Not tonight.” 

Jason stares at him for long enough that Tim grows visibly uncomfortable, shoulders stiffening. 

“What,” he says, eyes darting up to Jason’s, then away. His long fingers never stop playing with the glass, rolling it slowly, tracing the same wet circle on the tabletop. Jason wishes he would just finish his drink. And hold still. 

“You don’t care,” Jason repeats. “Great. Namaste. So what’s with the interrogation?”

“Interr—?” Tim looks startled. “Jason, I was asking.”

-

So yeah.

[accio-victuuri]

assorted fake stories ❤️💛💚

the title explains what these are, fake/fanfiction stories between them. it’s been awhile since i made something like this and i’m happy that i can share one now. none of these are real. don’t ask me to explain further or provide details — it is what it is. don’t break your brain trying to setup a timeline of when this or this happened cause a lot of these are already mentioned. also feel free to interpret it however you want. ✨

i may put a bit of commentary on some of these but the rest is pretty much understandable. the way these are written, seems to be by different OPs and somehow like contributions they are sharing.

#001

The behind-the-scenes footage was shown, but there was a video that was not. The two people were surprised when they were stabbed. B went to check the wound, but accidentally walked too fast. He was originally trying to check the wound, but he lost his balance and fell on Z, kissing Z. It was so funny and love. Believe it or not, the two people were red, red! Those who have the video have seen it.

There is also a segment of counting stars on the rooftop that has not been played (to be supplemented by me). There is audio, but no video. The audio is very sweet. They spent the Lantern Festival in 2021 together, and did not miss any important festivals.

B and Z both talked privately about how B had lost his temper in the backstage of SDC and at work. The fans behind the SDC show were really fierce, and he was really angry. He complained more than once that he was speechless. He actually gave tickets to CPZJIE before he met her.

Another time was in TTXs backstage. Help me, this is a true story. A fan shouted to B in the backstage, "Brother, I love you. Be nice to Brother Z." Oh my god, the whole backstage was silent, the atmosphere was so depressing, B's face turned black quickly, the staff quickly took the girl away, everyone was so embarrassed, the people around B said that they were helpless, some fans were too crazy, they really didn't know the occasion, and they always didn't know what was going on.

When we were singing our song in 2019, there were many illegitimate fans and CPF on Z's flight. CPF asked Z to pass on a letter to B. Z received it and the fans went crazy (covering his face). I was not a fan at that time. My friend told me about it. Then CPF blocked the illegitimate fans and shouted "Z, go away" because there were too many people blocking him and it was very dangerous. Later, Z told a stylist, CPF, I thank them (only rational fans).

I don't know if it's for Valentine's Day this year. In previous years, we were together on Valentine's Day and it was more of a ritual. Z is a person with a strong sense of ritual. B learned to be romantic and ritualistic. Last year on February 14, Z flew over to accompany his boyfriend for two days. Last year, B celebrated Z's birthday in advance and sent him a multi-layered cake on his birthday. It was so exaggerated when I saw the scene. It was not the big one from the crew. He sent a little prince cake.

It was B's birthday, and Z flew over to the crew to accompany him. B's assistant picked him up.

* B is Bobo and Z is ZhanZhan. ohhhh. I particularly like this one because of the part that showed how they appreciate the rational fans. That there is a time and space for everything. I don’t fault Bobo for being mad or maybe taken a back when the person shouted something related to ZZ when he was in his place of work. same thing with ZZ. there must be boundaries.

#002

B likes to send flowers, but he is sometimes busy, so he either orders them to be sent by others, or asks the two men around him. The two men ( Yanyan and Lele ) are also straight men, and their faces will turn red if they hold flowers every day, so the task is left to the female GZRY. YanYan is permanent, but female assistants are transient

So when Lele, who was next to B, had his birthday, Z also went after filming and then rushed back to the crew.

Many people say that B is possessive, but I think Z's possessiveness is hidden. He really has big and small accounts ( on weibo ) . I've seen them all. B's account always records his love diary. Z, who is a very ordinary person, also has his account. All of B's girlfriends ( fans ) follow him. Big pepper (XZ) , no matter big or small, he follows them all. He also sees what people are talking about and how they analyze it. When the behind-the-scenes footage was released, people were so excited that he was so scared that he unfollowed them. I was so amused because the next day I saw that those big bloggers were no longer on his follow list. Sometimes they don’t know anything, but most of the time they are inexplicable. I don’t know if they are really inexplicable or just pretending to be inexplicable.

Z can write new TikTok songs for him, and learn different ways to make a heart shape. What kind of lover’s hobby is this? I don’t know if B really likes to tease Z regardless of the occasion. He is so rude. Z calls him a rude, which makes me laugh. If Z is shy when they meet, he will kick B. If he wins too much in games, he will get angry and complain about him to others. When he has teased enough, he will let him win. This is quite straight male style.

Most of the time they are sweet and loving, they won't let us know when they quarrel. When B is in a bad mood, he will show it on his face. If you pay more attention to him when recording TTXS, you will know it. And every time he gets angry, I think it has something to do with Z. Just think I am in love. But he will handle work and private emotions maturely. He will focus on work. At most, they will argue, for example, they will choose some controversial topics, such as sweet or salty rice dumplings? With cheese or without cheese, weird.

They spent the New Year together, with their parents, went to eat seafood together, and then made hot pot at home. How could I know how to make hot pot? Because the hot pot Z bought was called cheese hot pot.

#003

There is also a very funny quarrel, it is said that when two people quarrel, the loser is always B, if he bravely runs away from home, then the farthest distance B can go is at the door of his home, and finally he will wait for Z to open the door. It's true, sometimes the face of the B is too bad, and it can often be solved with just one phone call.

B really listens to Z. He told Z not to get into trouble again, to protect himself, to be good, not to have wild thoughts, and not to wrong himself. So he always buys the best and sweetest things for Z because he is afraid that Z will wrong himself. Now Z is more and more able to protect himself when he goes out. B must be very relieved.

Z is really weird, he likes to watch horror stories, he is also very childish, he likes the fairy tale movies we watched when we were young, like Ponyo and Sosuke, then he pops up to chat with B, I guess they are the only ones who understand each other.

#004

There was so much fake information that fans were so confused that they had no idea what they were talking about. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun eating melons.

The crew was together. On B's birthday, they received a radio on the rooftop. Z said that he would be B's sun, warm everyone and warm the little stars (it was said that they held hands, but they didn't see it). They only heard singing, which was about holding hands and walking forward one step, two steps, three steps, four steps.

In 2019, they returned to Chongqing and traveled to Japan together (to make up for the regret?). This is a rumor. In 2020, they went home together for the Chinese New Year, but stayed for a long time due to the epidemic. Z loves to cook for B.

I can't help it, love is like this, I will like him wherever he stands, he is a good guy, he is good at saying sweet words, it seems that B takes care of all the housework, he also likes to do housework, he said in an interview, his cooking will also be disliked by Z at home, Z is from Chongqing, he will try to cook light and reduce the spiciness.

We went to DYZY together and walked together. When I attended Chanel, I introduced Mr. Zhou and brought Z with me.

I don’t know about the engagement, I haven’t heard of it, but my sister asked about it, and B said there’s no rush. Eat melons, eat melons, I think they are very ambitious in their careers, marriage and engagement are groundless.

#005

B treasures his green microphone so much that he cannot touch it even in the backstage. It was given to him by Z.

There is a very ugly scarf Z knitted for B.

At TTXS lot of interesting things happened. In the backstage, H and DL were chatting together. They mentioned that ZZ was praised for her great acting and B was so good. He listened silently without saying anything. Then, I don’t know why the words got to him. He said, yes, I watched it. It was very well acted. Help me, why didn’t I watch it? When The Wolf was released, he chased the staff around him and asked them to watch it. He would also check and ask what they saw. One sister was really busy and didn’t chase so fast. It was so funny. She directly asked, did you see the kissing scene? B stopped talking. You little guy, you are still being controlled.

The necklace that I refuse to take off was given to me by Z. Bones are a token of love, let me put the timeline, it's so messy, I'll write whatever I think of now.

When I was crazy, I heard that there were masks (I was just watching the show), that is, after 227, B and Z were together, but they had to separate for work, B was very worried and kept pulling Z by the car, anyway, the two of them were close to each other, there were masks at the time, everyone was passing it around, guessing it was a mask kiss.

B really can coax Z to sleep, weird, right? How do I know? Because he would recite the lines in the car, Call Z, recite the lines in a low noise, and finally hang up and say he fell asleep...Z has been having trouble sleeping, and B tries every way to coax him. But when he was filming, there was a rumor about him XD, he took sleeping pills to sleep. B took every step by himself, and he would keep it to himself when he was wronged. But now he will tell Z everything. If he doesn't tell Z, he will be scolded. Compared to Z, he is the big boss.

#006

(After so many years, everyone who has talked to me knows that my memory is really bad, so if there are any deviations in time and events, please don’t be too serious~~)

I was very happy during the recording in April 21. There was a reason why I was so happy that I jumped on F. I was very unhappy before this, but I laughed this time. If fans waved and said hello to him in a friendly way, he would also smile and say hello back. Actually, there is a reason for being unhappy. You can’t even see him making a phone call backstage. That day, he called someone and said he missed you. He said he missed you with a bit of grievance, and then he was like eating candy during the recording.

The joke about washing machines is that B is the spokesperson, but he didn’t get the product right away. He sent it to his gege first and used it. He was photographed using it and it was hilarious. The same goes for clothes and shoes. He was the recipient, but Z always helped him receive the goods right away. When multiple brands come, you will know that Z has helped B draw countless paintings, and the sideline is similar. You know, if you don’t bet, you will have shares. There are also some ridiculous sidelines that have nothing to do with their current skills. It’s so funny. I heard that there are both in Chongqing and Chengdu. There are peripherals and clothes (already had them a long time ago). B had a celebration party (March 21) and drank very happily (he can drink a thousand cups without getting drunk). After drinking, he sang in KTV. The one he sang was a boy, and he was out of tune. Boys love love songs. He likes to hum songs in private, just like he is doing street dance. He has a special song called (Slowly Falling in Love with You) which he recorded for his lover in TTXS on Z’s birthday. It is special. For this reason, he secretly practiced humming songs before recording.

It's so funny. Didn't the fake material say the song "Occupy Shoulders" before? I don't need to say this, right? They just sang the backing vocals. At that time, everyone said what he was doing with the recording studio?

Rules of my World is also for lovers, to coax people, and for his only boy. The cover is also blatant (here the old fans said, I know it all, do you need to tell me?Okay, it's not necessary to make up some non-existent candies, such big ones, why not write them in)

Z always carries snacks with him. B doesn't like them, but he can't live without them. That's why he buys Z any food he sees, and he always talks to him, guessing whether he will like it, and then he becomes silent and plays with his phone, and I don't know who he is talking to. But in the end, it was basically true.

* the song is by Karen Mok called Growing Fond of You or as directly translated something like Slowly Falling in love with you.

#007

When the Nanjian ended ( CQL fanmeet ) , the two did not separate. They dated together for a night. Many WFs saw it at that time. I heard that some cried and quit being fans and shut up. I think many of them said that WFs would not cry even if they saw them crying. They did not personally cancel that.

A few fans talked about why the two of them were so persistent in visiting the set even though they were busy. It was because B wanted to give Z a sense of security. Of course, B was very attached to Z. In the past, Z did not allow him to meet so frequently, so he would sneak attack from behind and scare Z. No matter how busy he was, he would still find time to meet. Driving for two or three hours was nothing. It was very tiring. He was not tired at all. In order to meet, they tried countless ways, using a stand-in, or hiding in the back of the car. Commonly known as the strategy of luring the tiger away from the mountain. You don’t understand, after being apart for a long time, the child needs to recharge and replenish energy, whether it’s a power bank or Snickers. I used to preach to him, but I felt bad, but I enjoyed it very much. LOL

He would act like a spoiled child and ask what are you doing here~ Straight guy B just speaks straight to the point

Expression: Because I miss you.

So, B accompanied Z to the first show ( ADLAD ) in Wuhan. Z was very nervous, and B said that he had to be by his side at important moments.

After 227, I felt that Z became more clingy. We just happened to be fans in 2020, and we met too often. It was really like a long time since we last saw each other. It was 2020. During that period, I was really worried about him. I couldn't leave him. Later, when Z returned to work, I would often meet him despite all difficulties. For example, for Street Dance, I rented a small house to accompany him, and often cooked delicious food for him. As for the crew of BAH, in fact, Z also went there for a long time. Baili was busy on both sides, so it was not so frequent.

As for OOL before 227, I don't know how he got so angry and made trouble on the set. But I only know that he often went to that set. I heard that he was always a little depressed and unhappy at work. But he was so cold to everyone, just not as lively as before.

* i love them so much and it’s so cuteee how they visit each other on set 🥹🥹🥹🥹 and to those who don’t know WF means Weifen or solo fans. and OOL filming is mentioned again hahahahahaha! i personally don’t believe that WYB made “trouble” there tho. I take it as him being there, knowing how popular they both are at the time is trouble enough.

#008

Z has secretly posted something about B on his Moments. Unexpected, right?

If they meet to make fun of someone, Z likes to pinch B's face (everyone knows this, right?). Many people see him and die of laughter. Every time he visits the set, he must do one thing, rub his face. Many people around me have become accustomed to it.

In private, Z likes to act like a spoiled child, and BZ spoils his girlfriend like a boyfriend. Meaning, anyone who has watched BBKP knows that Z is still weak when he should be weak, because B is really an extremely chauvinistic man. Z would wear hot pants and sit on B in front of staff. If a woman likes B and is known by the big pepper 🌶️, he would do such a thing. Don't be surprised, he does it more.

It doesn’t matter. There are even more exaggerated ones. If I say it, I will be beaten. I am either the first wife or the third wife. The second room is really not good. I can’t do that, hahaha, but you can do it however you want.

B is not shy or bashful in private, he is carefree and not so refined? I don’t know if this description is accurate, isn’t it the love of a straight man, if you love him you buy him things? So his money is given to Z, and he reports everything, big or small, to him, it’s not an exaggeration at all, really not at all, but Z is not actually a frugal person, hahahaha he likes to buy things, he buys bags, small bags, he likes small bags, he buys Lego, watches, clothes for B, usually couple clothes, B always finds reasons to wear them together, he just wants to show off.

Many women like B but they all get rejected by him in a domineering manner. Z will have it too. It’s not surprising. They eat so many melons. What can’t they do in the circle? But they are really clean. In the turbulent entertainment circle, they stand firm and support each other without being polluted. So many people are optimistic about them. I think it’s their character and love.

Actually, they don’t call each other husband, wife, or baby in public, but they do so in private. B likes to act like a spoiled child and listen to Z, but he is a very mature and stable person. He knows the ways of the world.

#009

He also has to take sides. He can handle relationships very well. He is very comfortable and calm, clear-headed, and never listens to the company's white cloth. When he first became famous, the company asked him to pair up with the company's girls. Yes, definitely not. Some people listen to the company because they can cooperate and win-win. He will never let it violate the bottom line. Z is entrusted to him, so what are you afraid of? He has the right to speak and make decisions in the company, but it is far from enough to protect Z. (I will really cry) So when my brother got into trouble, he worked desperately. (I will talk about the timeline later, write it tomorrow, write it together with other melons, and focus on this aspect.) He worked very hard in 2020. I think he is really anxious. No one can be more anxious than him. But he has done it now, they have become so strong, it was so hard for them in the past years, but B really did protect Z well.

His parents took on a lot, and he was just a walking tool to show off his affection. When they go shopping by themselves, they will say they are shopping with their mother. They bought a dog but they don’t have time to take care of it, so they let their mother take care of it. Their mother walked the dog for them in Beijing and later returned to Chongqing. In fact, it was Z who sent soup to B from afar (he really would send soup). He dotes on B too much (his foot was injured during SDC). He sent it to SDC and to the company. Moreover, the soup he made was very bland. Eating too much salt would cause swelling. If you don’t believe me, go check it yourself. B calls it a sweet complaint. Then they advertised to the public that his mother sent them soup and braised beef in soy sauce. His mother loved them very much and approved of them. Although she disagreed at first, she was finally convinced. She would send them gifts on holidays.

In the past, Z was very busy, so B would go to see his mother on his behalf. At the beginning, I heard that they were more accepting. His mother understood and did not bend over backwards for love. Believe it or not, B strongly opposed it, and B's father especially disagreed. In the end, I heard that they had a falling out, but clever B persuaded his father by persuading his grandmother and mother. In the end, his father also helped Z on GS. He heard that B was the first to come out, that is, after the weak connection, he rashly confessed to give Z a sense of security. But it is also like this. I think they are becoming more and more determined. Parents all hope that their children are healthy and happy. Seeing such madness, I guess they can't object too much. In 2021 years, they specially invited their parents to their home in Beijing to celebrate the New Year together.

-END.

[beomiracles]

𝓞𝐅 𝓢𝐍𝓞𝐖 𝓐𝐍𝐃 𝓢𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝓔𝐑𝓔𝐃 𝓦𝓘𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Foolish girl. You should know better than to wander up the snowy and cold mountains all by yourself. Yet you march onward, not caring for the biting frost as you draw your coat tighter around yourself. The tales told by your old grandfather had been enough to fuel your curiosity, to push the bounds of danger as you sought to see the dragons for yourself. — Perhaps you got more than you bargained for when you suddenly stumble across the one everyone thought to be extinct; the ice dragon. ⸝⸝

𝓹airing dragon!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings descriptions of injuries/blood, supernatural au, kissing, character death (not main), shitty and poor writing, lowkey rushed toward the end, kills myself.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 14.1k ་༘࿐

#serene adds ✎.. my contribution to The Veils Of Aethera which is kind of very shit and probably the worst piece I have ever written (I'm exaggerating, maybe..) no but theres a lot of plot holes, which I did not have time to fill out but could definitely explain if someone wants me to, because in my head I have all the answers and um yes. I haven't proofread this once and I'm not going to because im nic sick off my ass and also on the verge of just falling asleep hm, anyway I love u guys heh please don't be mad at me for posting something so below my usual level >-<

ONCE UPON A TIME… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was… 

FIRE, burning hotter than the sun. Orange and yellow flames dancing before your very eyes, their warmth caressing your face, shunning the cold around and embracing you. Fire warm enough to kill, if they wanted to. — Turning forests into ash, melting even the firmest of steel armor, incinerating entire kingdoms with one mere breath. 

The dragon’s powerful roar echoes over the mountain tops, loud enough for trees to shake. Even the wind gave way as they soared through the sky. Large wings slapping against the cool air as they danced through the clouds. Untamed beasts, that’s how most described them. Wild and fueled only by their desire and rage to destroy everything around them. 

Few humans were fortunate enough to face one of these creatures and live to tell the tale. But the ones that did were graced with luck for many generations to come. These humans, those who sought not to fight but to learn about these beasts, were a different kind of people. Reckless in the eyes of other humans but courageous in the eyes of the dragon. 

Together they conquered the skies, not as two but as one. Their souls connected with one another as they played a game of perfect synchronization. Moving swiftly in the dark, silently communicating with nothing but the twitch of a muscle. It was a different kind of understanding, a mutual one, a bond that ran far deeper than any other. 

A raspy cough slices through the image of the dark fiery dragon gliding through the sky and your attention immediately shifts to the old man in front of you. — “Grandpa! Are you alright?” Quickly rising to your feet, you scurry toward the old man as you kneel before him. He gives a weak nod, dismissing you with the wave of his wrinkly hand. 

“I’m fine, dearest..” He mutters, though the strain of his voice betrays his words. Still, you nod as your thumbs caress the back of his hand. “Now, where was I? — Ah yes, the dragons..” He shifts in his chair, the blanket slipping from his legs, and you rush to shove it back in place. Your old grandpa clears his throat as he prepares to continue. 

“You see there were these formations they would do in the air and–” — “Alfred, that’s quite enough.” The brisk voice of your aunt, Fiona, pierces through the air. She sways by the doorway, her arms folded neatly across her chest as her dark gaze narrowed on your grandpa. With a small grumble he adjusts himself in his seat, muttering something about Fiona being “a persistent know-it-all.” 

Your aunt doesn’t seem to care for his bitterness, for she did not enjoy hearing him talk about those “creatures” as she referred to them as. Instead she brushes past you, her arms wrapping around the old man as she helps him to his feet. “Enough about those lizards, come to bed.” — With a small glance over her shoulder, she addresses you in a most derogatory tone. “Make use of yourself out in the garden will you? Your grandpa needs to rest.” 

The sun is warm against your face as you squint toward it. Your aunt had a lovely garden, situated just on the edge of the forest, by the very far end of the kingdom. Humming along to the soft tune of a slow melody, your hands busy themselves with hanging the damp garments on the clothesline that was tied between two posts. 

A gentle breeze makes the wet fabric sway in the wind and you skip out of its way as you reach for one of the dresses. — “Thought I told you to let those things go.” The voice of your aunt slices through the relaxing atmosphere. She bends down to pick a pair of smaller pants from the basket, belonging to your younger cousin. 

Even if her words remained vague and dismissing, there was no doubt that she was referring to the stories she’d walked in on your grandpa sharing, yet again. When your silence has gone on for a good minute she continues, “You know how he gets, going on and on about that nonsense..” Fiona huffs as she gives the pants a harsh shake before folding them across the string. 

“But I should like to hear him out- His stories are beyond interesting, and he’s delighted to share them!” You chime in, a small, hopeful smile stretching across your lips. It was true, to reminisce about the tales of his youth seemed to be the only thing that brought your grandfather any sort of joy these days. It made the wrinkles around his eyes deepen when he smiled, a low breathy laugh rumbling within his chest. 

Your aunt Fiona shoots you a pointed look, her attention then drifting back to the damp clothes. “That is all that they are, stories. But your old grandpa does not seem to know the difference between tales and truth anymore.” She heaves a sigh as she turns to you, “Lest us not make matters worse by encouraging these…fantasies.” Her tone was final, like a large wooden door being slammed shut in your face. You held your tongue, returning to your chores as the day continued on. 

Dinner was chaotic, as it always was. With plates clattering against the small wooden table and glasses being tipped over. Your younger cousins bickered, their loud and whiny voices filling the cramped room. “Boys! Enough.” Fiona looks tired when placing the large pot of soup on the middle of the table, in the center of the whirlwind. The twins however, immediately quiet down though they continue to glower at one another. 

“He started it!” William shouts as he points to his brother, Theodore, who merely shakes his head. “Did not!” — “Did too!” For each time their whining voices grew all the louder, soon overpowering any coherent thought you might have. A small tap to your side diverts your attention from the arguing taking place. Mira, your youngest cousin, points to the jug of water, silently requesting you give her some. 

She was quiet, awfully so, in fact you don’t think you’d heard hear utter more than three words during meal time. You oblige by pouring her a glass, setting the jug back just in time for your aunt to give the twins a harsh tug to their ears, making them protest loudly. — “Give your mother a break will ya?” Her voice is harsh, leaving a thick silence behind as she lets go of her sons and takes a seat by the high end of the table. 

Opposite your aunt Fiona, sits your grandfather. He seems lost in thought as his wrinkly fingers play with the spoon on his hand. Everyone is now turning his way, waiting patiently for him to begin eating. It was customary to let the oldest man of the house eat before anyone else, and usually your grandpa was not late to indulge… Today, he seems distracted. 

“Father, are you not hungry?” Your aunt tries as she leans forward, gripping her own spoon tightly. You watch as his brows raise on his aged forehead, and your grandfather hums as his gaze drops to the bowl before him, as if he’d just realized its presence. — “Huh..” He huffs, readjusting his grip on the silverware as he stirs the warm soup. “Oh yes..” He murmurs, bringing a spoonful to his lips as he begins to eat. 

Everyone sighs in relief, all following as they, too, begin to feast. For some reason you find yourself unable to. Your gaze lingers by your old grandpa, noting the slight tremble to his hand and the effort it took for him to swallow. Often did you worry for his health, for how long you had left with him. Regardless of his condition, there was little you could do for him. It pained you greatly. 

Just like everynight, you tucked your grandpa in before bed. He’d gotten quite disoriented during later months and needed help getting from one place to another. With your arm around his weak frame, another one waiting to assist, you move him from his rocking chair and over to the soft mattress. — “There you go, pops. — Careful with your knees.” 

Your grandfather scoffs as he waves a dismissing hand your way. “Enough dear, these legs used to conquer battlefields, they shan’t submit to a short walk..” Still, there was an undeniable tremble to him as he slowly lowered himself onto the bed. — Only once you’d drawn the thick blanket over him, did he finally seem at ease once more. 

He hums to a foreign melody as you fiddle with the oil lamp on his bedside table. — “Ah, did I tell you about that one time… The one where I met a sundragon head on?” Your grandpa stifles a cough against his palm before shaking his head lightly. Though his train of thought was cut short when you place a gentle hand on his chest. 

“It’s getting late pops, you need to rest.” The smile you send him is far from convincing and you quickly avoid his piercing gaze as you adjust the lamp one final time. You never turned down one of his stories, even if you’d heard it a hundred times before. He was bound to catch onto it, and he did. The sounds of sheets rustling rings in your ears as he props himself up on a weak elbow. 

“Did my daughter tell you to stop encouraging me?” 

It wasn’t a question but a statement. Despite your reluctance, you slowly admit to it as you give a meek nod. Your gaze trains to your hands as they rest in your lap, seated on the edge of his bed. Your grandpa makes a small noise of disbelief as he thumps back against the mattress. “Just as stubborn as her mother..” He mutters as he gazes up at the ceiling. 

For a moment, a still silence fills the small bedroom, nothing but the wind tearing through the trees outside to be heard. Then your old grandfather suddenly speaks again. “Your aunt has every reason to resent those creatures, given what happened to my father..” — Your ears perk up at the mention of your great grandfather. He was, according to your grandpa, a man like no else. One who not only faced the dragons but even soared through the sky alongside them. 

Well, at least until… Your grandpa’s hoarse voice interrupts your scattered thoughts. “I do not blame her”, he murmurs, sounding almost melancholic. Yet you’re able to catch the undeniable glint in his eyes, the one that would shine whenever he spoke of his past. “Still…”, he coughs, a low and weasel sound, “I would like to see them one last time.” 

“To see the dragons once more, that is my final wish.” 

𓍼ོ

The very next morning is cold, a lot colder than a typical summer one in Aethera. You tug your coat tighter around yourself, even your gloved hands slowly succumbing to the biting frost. It’s early, much so that the sun itself has yet to rise over the horizon. — Quietly, you slip out of your aunt's small cottage, sealing the door shut behind you as you give a final glance over your shoulder. 

Your footsteps crunch against the leaves and twigs as you make your way through the thick and dense forest. Nature around you was still asleep, at least, most of it. You did not dare stop to think about what kind of creatures roamed these woods, what kind of entities lingered in its shadows.. A shiver runs down your spine and you shudder before pushing those thoughts aside, marching forward with hasty steps. 

And soon enough, the trees part, making way for the large mountains ahead. With newfound eagerness, you rush forward, more than ready to leave the dark forest behind as you emerge from the treeline. — You pause, finding yourself in complete awe as you stare up at large stones, crafted by nature itself, their tops covered in a bright blanket of white snow. 

Here you were bound to find what you were looking for. Dragons. Determined to fulfill your grandfather’s dying wish, the least you could do was set out to bring back the one thing he sought to see the most. You knew a lot about dragons, well, as much as he’d let on to in his stories. Still, the thought of seeing one up close.. It made your stomach tingle. 

But the mountain is a lot crueler than you’d anticipated. The hike to the top is unforgiving, tearing your limbs apart as your body aches. You’re panting, knee deep in thick snow as you battle against the harsh winds. In spite of it being late July, the harsh conditions of the Frosty Peaks seemed to know no bounds as it served you whiplash after whiplash. 

Frantically your gaze searches for an entrance, for any way to access the mountain. Your grandpa had long ago told you about the dark caves dragons resided in. “They’re quite tricky to find, not something you would just stumble upon. — A dragon’s nest is its most treasured place.” That’s what he’d said. 

You knew to look for small, almost unnoticeable anomalies. Something that any other bypasser would mistake for nature's misfortune. A twisted branch, a cracked stone.. The cold wind hurls against you, making an almost ear piercing screeching noise. You can no longer feel your face as you keep your gaze trained to the ground, intently looking for something, anything that would give way to an opening. 

But you come up short. There was nothing here. It felt like you’d been climbing this mountain for forever. It was never ending, everywhere you turned there was just snow upon snow upon snow. Every rock and every tree looked the same, perhaps you’d been walking in circles. What if you couldn’t find your way home, what if you were to freeze to death upon this quiet mountain, all alone and shivering as you take your last breaths.  

The lantern you had brought along had burned out, yet you clutched it tightly as you stumbled forward. With your head bowed and your desperate eyes seeking what you thought to be the impossible, you’re unable to foresee the snare that protrudes through the white snow, not until it’s too late. It catches around your wrist, causing you to yelp as you fall forward. 

It’s cold, it’s so cold that it burns. The hard ground caresses your tired body, the soil beneath welcoming you. With shaky hands you brace yourself against the mountain, daring to lift your head only an inch, wincing at the pain that throbbed within. “Ow..” You whine, clutching your temple as you screw your eyes shut. 

When you open them again is when you see it. At first you didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. In disbelief your gaze flickers between the lily that was currently in full bloom, thriving in deep snow, and over to the opening presented before you. — Unbelievable. 

Excitement coursed through your veins as you scramble to your feet, eager to escape the menacing wind. It’s without thinking twice that you dart for the cave’s opening, throwing yourself inside with a relieved sigh. Your soft pants leave small clouds of cold in their wake, and you lean against the wet stone walls as you catch your breath. 

With wary eyes you survey your surroundings, taking in the endless pit of darkness that awaits you. The cave curved in a C-like shape, and the sounds of water quietly dropping from its ceiling fills the otherwise eerie silence. — It takes you a moment to re-light your lantern, but once you have, its warm glow manages to bring you at least some sense of comfort. 

Your hesitant footsteps bounce off the wet cavern walls as you delve deeper into the mountain. With your lantern held high, it guides you through the passages, an unexplainable tug at your chest urging you forward. Perhaps you should turn back, perhaps this had been a bad idea. After all, you did not know anything about dragons apart from what your grandfather had told you.— Was this really such a good idea? 

A turn to your left leads you onto an even darker path, and you feel a shiver crawl down your spine, sending a shockwave of nervosity through you. With a small gulp, you readjust your grip on the lantern, its light casting your face in yellow-ish hues. — So far there was not a single sign of any other living being, and you had been listening to nothing but your own shaky exhales for the past twenty minutes. 

Just when you had begun to consider retreat, did the tip of your shoe crash against something hard. Not being able to catch yourself in time, you stumble forward a second time that day. But this time, there’s no snow to catch you, and you hit the hard and cold cave floor with a loud crash. 

“Ow..” Your groan pierces the thick silence, and you wince as you grab ahold of your already pounding head. Not again you sigh. Everything hurt, your body felt sore and bruised, you could only imagine how you looked beneath all your layered clothes. 

Upon turning around, you find that what you had tripped over had been not a stone, not an overly large branch or any other of nature’s call. No, this was something entirely different… With squinting eyes you peer down at what appeared to be scales covering something the size of a smaller tree trunk. Confused you glance around in search of your lantern, it had slipped from your grasp during your fall. 

You find it a few feet away, gingerly shuffling over as you retrieve it. Thankfully the flames within were still alive and you cradled it close as you turned back to the strange scaled thing you had tripped over, only to find it gone. — Your heart catches in your throat, making your eyes widen and the lantern threatening to crash against the ground once more. 

A cold and harsh puff of air hits your back, hard. You gulp, slowly and carefully turning around as you clutch the lamp in trembling hands. Immediately your gaze falls on the exact same scales you’d seen just moments prior. White and smooth, perfectly covering four large legs, your attention fixates on the long and sharp claws on its feet. Then over to the almost translucent and magnificent looking wings, neatly tucked against its sides. 

Dread fills you when you realize that what you had tripped over had been its at least 10 ft long tail. With a gawking expression you watch as said tail curls around its body. In almost cinematic slow motion does your gaze shift toward its head, where sharp canines rested in its mouth. There was no doubt that this was exactly what you had come here looking for. 

“A dragon..” 

The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Your soft whisper of disbelief carrying out into the cold air. It looked stoic, yet far from the dragon's your grandfather had described. This was not the dark and fire-spitting beasts he’d told you about, this was… A wet droplet splashes against your cheek and you glance up to find icicles peering down at you from the ceiling, their pointy ends looking ready to pounce. 

A low huff brings your attention back to the creature before you, just in time to watch as it cracks an eye open. Its ice blue irises a stark contrast to the narrow slits of its pupils. This dragon did not hold the gaze of warmth and fire. — It held one of ice cold death. 

You stumble backward on trembling legs. The wet and hard cave wall feels like daggers against your back when you crash against it. Your breath comes out in jagged pants, your heart beating through your chest as you realize the dangers of your situation. The plan had been to watch them from afar, to silently slip away as if nothing had happened when you had gotten what you’d come here for. The plan did however, not include coming face to face with one of them. To become trapped within the cold and eerie darkness of these caves with the very beings that ruled them. 

With fear in your eyes, you watch as the dragon rises to its feet. Cold blue eyes locked on your small figure as you stay pressed against the wall, cowering before it. The sounds of its heavy steps echo between the icicles hanging from the ceiling, it makes the floor shake and rocks move as it slowly makes its way closer. 

You can feel its chilly breath all over you, freezing your already damp and shivering body tenfold. You screw your eyes shut as you turn your head away, preparing yourself for the fate inevitably to come. — Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. You should’ve listened to your aunt. You had been a fool to believe your old grandpa. You should have never come here and you should have never woken this beast. 

But the sharp and soaring pain of its large canines never came. And when what feels like an eternity has passed, you finally dare crack an eye open. Your vision is clouded by blues and whites, its nose hovering inches from your face. You couldn’t understand why it hadn’t made another move to attack you, to snap your frail body in half and rid itself of your invading presence. 

The dragon only watches you, the slow waves of cold air washing over you when it exhales. You swallow, gaze drifting down its long and majestic body as you wait for death to come. It is then you realize that something was wrong. There, tarnishing the translucent hue of its large wing is a large and ugly crack. Dark crimson spills from it in dramatic fashion as it taints the dragon’s shattered wing. 

It was hurt. 

A pang of sympathy washes over you at the sight. The frantic beating of your heart faltering for a short moment as you exhale the sigh you’d been holding in. The dragon seems to notice where your attention lays and immediately covers itself up by tucking its wing to its side. — A low, predatory sound builds in its chest, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise as you will down a gulp. 

It pulls back, and for a second you think it might retreat. But instead it opens its terrifyingly large jaw, presenting you with rows upon rows of teeth sharp as swords. You want to scream, but the dragon beats you to it as it lets out an ear piercing roar. — It makes the icicles above you shatter, their splinters flying everywhere. Even the walls tremble under the powerful sound and you find yourself darting for the exit without a second thought. 

The sound continues to plague you as you run through the murky and long cavern walls, fighting your way through the maze you had once entered with curiosity and hope. Now you claw onto the desperate feeling of life, with tears streaming down your cheeks and your heart in your throat. 

It’s not until light presents itself and you catch the sun on your face that you breathe out. Your lungs burn, your legs ache and your head pounds. The snow feels warm and inviting, and your knees sink to the ground as you plummet toward it. — One glance behind your shoulder shows the entrance gone once more, and you sigh, whether it was in relief or not, you can’t tell. 

But as you make your way home that day, you can’t help but think of the dragon up in the mountain, and the large wound on its side. 

𓍼ོ 

Your grandpa accompanies you as you prepare dinner that night. Your aunt Fiona was out gathering wild berries and fruits along with your younger cousins, and so the kitchen had become a peacefully quiet and inviting space. The air is warm, the steam coming from the hot stew cooking over the small fire, caressing your face. 

Perched on his stool by the high end of the table, your grandfather watches as you prepare plates and spoons for the family. His expression is calm, serene even. He doesn’t look as exhausted today, and you’re glad. These quiet and tender moments with him were ones that you cherished, for you didn’t know how many you had left. 

Yet you can’t help your mind from wandering toward the mountain on the other side of the forest. Your thoughts are plagued by the lonesome creature hidden within the stone. “Grandpa…” Your fingers drum against the rim of the glass you were wiping down, a small frown tugging across your brows. 

The old man hums as he shifts his gaze over to where you’re standing, obviously waiting for you to continue. It’s just… You don’t know how to. With a small, almost inaudible sigh you set the glass down. “Did you ever.. I mean was there ever such a thing as… ice dragons?” — The question catches him off guard, sure your old man was used to your inquiries about both the dragons and his past life. But something like this had never been brought up. 

“Ice dragons?” He echoes, and you think you catch a flicker of intrigue behind his otherwise pale eyes. “Where have you heard about those?” He then murmurs as he attempts to sit a little straighter. You immediately rush to his side as you place an arm around him, “Careful.” But your grandfather only swats your helping hands away as he stifles a cough. 

You purse your lips, but keep a steady grip on his shoulder as you hand him a glass of water. “I’ve just… Been doing a bit of research, and I stumbled across the topic.” You bite the inside of your cheek before adding, “There was hardly anything documented, so I was hoping you knew more..” 

Your grandpa hums, the sound long and drawn out as he takes a sip of his water. “Well of course there’s nothing documented, ice dragons have been extinct for centuries.” He says it so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. But it wasn’t. You had just seen one, you were sure you had seen one. 

Images of the dragon up in the mountains flash before you. The blue and white scales, its frosty breath, its icy and penetrating gaze. But that would be impossible then.. It shouldn’t exist if they were extinct. — “Are you sure?” 

With a small scoff, your grandfather sets his glass down. “What kind of question is that?” He quirks a bushy brow, his expression gauging as he studies you closely. “If there was as much as a single ice dragon left, I would be sure to know of it”, he states with a huff. You did not want to argue over the matter any further, and thus kept your silence as you continued setting the table. 

Perhaps it had been a flicker of your imagination. The cave had, after all, been dark. It was possible that what you thought was real could have been all but an illusion. — But the ice cold shiver that ran down your spine as you recall its cold breath on your skin was most real. You think of the blood, of the large wound slashed across its side. How defensive it had gotten when it caught your gaze lingering. 

You pitied the being. What awful it must be to feel pain like that. 

“Why do you want to know about ice dragons?” The hoarse voice of your grandfather pierces the warm air and you turn to him with a small almost helpless smile. “I don’t know… Curiosity I suppose. ” You mumble, choosing to not bring up the day’s events in front of your old man. Your grandpa nods, his face looks sunken as his eyes drop to his empty plate. 

Outside, you can hear the faint noise of your aunt and younger cousins as they approach the small cottage. “Curiosity will get you far”, your grandpa agrees, though his voice sounds almost solemn now. — “But we should not let our thoughts linger in the past.” 

𓍼ོ

You find yourself setting out early in the morning that follows as well. But this time, you’ve brought more than a small lantern. The bag you carry is heavy on your back, making each step up the steep and snowy mountain twice the labour. Yet you persist, stubbornly trudging through the thick snow that reaches all the way to your knees. 

The cold and harsh winds make for a narrow view as you squint against them. Your nose has lost all its feeling, and you’re certain that you’re developing frostbite on parts of your body. Frantically you search for the tiny lily. You had tried your best to retrace yesterday’s steps, wantonly stumbling back and forth as you scour the ocean of bright white. 

“Where is it… Where is it..” Your lips are numb, your tongue feels way too big for your mouth and your words come out slurred. Never in your life had you been this cold before, and only God knows how much longer you’ll be able to carry on forward. 

But then you see it, its bright pink hues lighting up your world like fireworks in the night sky. And just a few feet away, the familiar entrance presents itself. — Despite your better judgement you had returned. Pity, that’s what you told yourself. Pity and empathy, that’s what you felt for the lonely dragon. It was why you had come here, with the intention of helping, as best as you could. It would’ve been what your grandfather would have wanted. 

Guilt weighs you down. It weighs heavier than the large bag on your shoulders. This secret you kept, it was bound to kill you. But such a thought seems small in comparison to the large cave that awaits you. — One final harsh thrust of the wind wins you over as you hurry inside, desperate to get out of its claws, even if it means finding yourself in the grasp of another. 

The maze-like system that was the dark and wet cave is strangely familiar, even though it shouldn’t be. Your feet move on their own, carrying you through the long and narrow labyrinth. For each step you take, your heart beats a little faster. Fear and anticipation courses through you. — Scared as you may be, but this time you had come prepared. This time you knew what waited around the corner, and as you made a final turn to the left, you exhaled. 

It’s dark, but now you know to watch where you place your feet. You’re silent, moving carefully through the cold air. Your lantern casts the cave in a warm and yellow glow, a stark contrast to the murky greys surrounding you. The icicles are sending gentle droplets of water down your way, one by one they splash against your cheek, the soft noise filling the open space. 

You had expected it to be there, you had tried to imagine it over and over for the past day. But the large dragon still catches you by surprise when your gaze falls upon it. Hurled up by one of the rocky and uneven walls, its large wings folded over what you presumed to be its wounded side. Its chest rises and falls with each slow breath it takes, the dragon appears to be in a calm slumber. Cold puffs of air shoots through its flared nostrils, the condensation vanishing in the darkness. 

It takes but one misstep on your part, the sound of rocks being crushed beneath the sole of your shoe echoing out into the silence. The disturbance wakes the sleeping dragon, and you find your gaze glued to its icy eyes as they snap open. Naturally, you expect for it to come lunging at you, just like it had the day before.  

But the dragon remains oddly still, slowly exhaling yet another wind off freezing air as it watches you with an almost expectant glint. It was impossible to read the creature, no matter how hard you tried. Your grandfather’s stories only did so much, and it was admittedly far different to come face to face with one on your own. 

“Hi.”

The greeting comes without you even thinking twice, it’s quiet, soft and timid. You’re surprised by your own rush of calmness at its semblance of indifference. For some reason, you did not feel threatened by the dragon today.

With slow and gentle movements, you let the bag slip from your shoulders, placing it down on the hard stone surface beneath you as you begin rummaging through it. You had not known what to bring along, for anything involving medicine was far from your expertise. The moss you’d brought from just within the forest line was thick and wet, but you vividly remember your aunt dressing your scraped knees in such. 

Gauze was sacred, you had to venture all the way to the kingdom in order to acquire some. It was why you had taken as little as you could from your aunt’s medicine cabinet, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be able to tell. — It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

You feel the dragon's intense gaze on you as your trembling hands undo the roll of gauze, you wondered if it’d be enough to even go around its large body once. It was worth the shot. — You stand up straight, clearing your throat as you draw in a short breath. “I uh, I’m here to help you..” You give the dragon an awkward smile. It was impossible to know if it could understand you or not, but judging by the way its gaze narrowed at your words, you would guess it did. 

It’s okay, you tell yourself, gripping the supplies in your hands tighter. You take a hesitant step forward, gauging its reaction as you keep your eyes on its head. But the dragon remains unmoving. Alright. Three more steps. Still good. — It’s not until you reach its side, your outstretched fingers reaching for the shattered wing, that the dragon flinches. 

A low, menacing growl builds in its chest. The sound makes you falter, your eyes widening as you swallow the shriek about to escape your lips. “I…” Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly as your heart hammers in your chest. Had you taken it too far? Your intentions were pure, sure, but could this beast see that? 

“I mean no harm…” You say as you let the moss and gauze drop to the ground, presenting your now empty hands before the dragon. The creature watches you with pupils that are narrowed into slits, clearly untrusting of your ways, but makes no move to snap you in half. — It meant something, at least so you thought. 

Your attention slowly returns to the pale wing pressing against its side. If only you could get a closer look. Your palm graces the smooth and cold scales, fascinated by the foreign texture. But the action is almost immediately met by a harsh snarl from the dragon as its large head jerks your way. 

Its breath is just as freezing as you’d remembered it, coming out in harsh puffs against your already shivering body. You’re so close that if you leaned forward as much as an inch, your foreheads would meet. — Your gulp is painfully audible inside the dark gave and you fumble for words. 

“Y-You’re hurt…” Your shaky finger points in the direction of its wing and the dragon follows your direction. You watch in slight bewilderment as it flexes the broken wing. The wound looked harsh and deep, you were sure it restricted most of its movements, not to mention causing it great pain. 

The dragon makes a small noise that sounds almost like a human grunt. The sound catches you off guard and you turn back just in time to catch its head shifting forward again, its attention seemingly fixed on something far away. It looked almost… defeated. You wondered for how long it’d been isolated up here, how many sleepless and painful nights it would’ve had to endure. 

When it doesn’t make a second attempt to snap you in half, you take it as your sign to move forward. A brief inspection of the long cut helps you determine that it would probably not need any stitches. Said discovery relieved you as you had little clue of how to work both needle and thread, especially on dragon scales. 

You pick at the moss you’d previously discarded, bunching the wet plant up in your hands as you sought a suitable approach. It would’ve been easier had this dragon been slightly smaller, or you slightly bigger. — Nonetheless you give it your best shot. The dragon hisses when you press the cold moss against the crimson cut, but you try your hardest to ignore the way it tenses beneath your touch, praying and hoping that it would remain as still as it had up until now. 

Once the thick layer of moss is in place, your foot blindly reaches for the gauze as you roll it over. With the help of your teeth, and a lot of effort as your arms fought to keep the earthy moss in place, you managed to throw the small roll over its wing, only to catch it as it came down on the other side.

The process was tedious, and due to the size of the wound, it required you to repeat your original move a multitude of times. You work quietly, biting your lip in concentration as sweat pooled on your forehead. To try and get your mind off of the situation and task at hand, you try to figure out just what could’ve caused an injury like this. 

Had the dragon taken a fall? Gotten in a fight with another of its species, or even worse, a completely different creature? You were no fool, and you knew that dragons were far from the only spirits that roamed this forsaken island. There were beings far more dangerous than a pair of claws and a large jaw. The thought alone made you shiver. 

A loud thud snaps your attention to your left, your heart leaping out of your chest. But the terror subsided just as it had surfaced when your gaze fell on the dragon's head, resting atop the cold and hard cave floor in an exhausted manner. It exhales, the condensated cold air blowing from its nostrils like smoke out of a chimney.  

It was impossible not to pity the lonely creature, and you feel your stomach twisting as you watch its defeated expression. There was much you wanted to ask, things you longed to know. For now, you were content with not getting torn in half as you tended to the crack on its wing. It was enough, you tell yourself. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to inspect your work. It looked… messy. The gauze was wrapped in uneven layers, with moss peeking through here and there. An amateur's job, that much was evident. But the dragon doesn’t seem to mind, for it spares no more than a quick glance toward the now dressed wound. Instead, its cold and harsh gaze lingers on your fidgety frame as you debate your next move.

Your eyes dart around the dark cave, lingering on its sharp and rough edges. You wondered how uncomfortable it must be to live like that. The lack of sunlight, the lack of warmth.. Not that this dragon seemed to need it. — But there was really nothing here. And as you fetch your lantern once more, throwing the now empty bag over your shoulder, you turn to meet the dragon’s icy gaze. 

“I’ll be back”, you say, and though it did not reply, you caught the faint shimmer of its once tired eyes. 

𓍼ོ

You return to that same dark and cold cave for many days to come. As time passed, you found yourself growing all the more comfortable in the dragon’s ever looming presence. You would bring fresh moss, making sure to check on the wound as best as you could. — And though your bag weighs half a ton, you still managed to bring some nutrients all the way up the mountain. 

“Here”, you had said as you threw the bag on the stone floor. The dragon had given you a small glance, its expression appearing almost judgemental before its gaze had flickered to the fish you’d brought along. — “Why come on, you must be hungry.” You motioned toward the fresh meat, feeling rather proud of the accomplishment. The dragon had let out a huff, blowing a cold puff of air your way before begrudgingly indulging in the food. 

Conversation was difficult to make. You often talked to yourself, thinking out loud as you rambled on about whatever topic came to mind. Sometimes you didn’t speak at all, instead choosing to let a comfortable silence envelop the two of you. You did not know if the dragon enjoyed your company, perhaps it only put up with you because it had too little strength to snap you in half. 

Yet the creature continued to occupy your thoughts. Its almost translucent wings, the pale scales covering its body, the sharp pair of icy eyes. One day you’d brought a small notebook along. Using a piece of charcoal, you sat perched against the opposite wall as you drew the dragon to the best of your abilities. You found it to be a great excuse to watch it for long periods of time rather than stealing subtle glances. 

Truth was that no matter how many times your eyes fell on the dragon, you still found it hard to believe just what you were seeing. Suddenly your grandfather’s stories all made sense. The suspense and thrill of the dragons. The dangers and the courage it took. You understood why he enjoyed talking about them so much, you could feel his passion as you sat in silence with something so sacred. 

But for each day that passed, the large gash on its side lessened in both size and severity. You wondered how much time you had left before it eventually spread its wings and took off. The thought plagued you more than you’d like to admit… 

The morning is crisp, the moist and warm summer air had yet to fall over the small cottage you resided in. Just like any other morning you’re up and about, quietly shuffling throughout the tiny space as you pack today’s essentials. You were thinking of bringing along a book, perhaps you would read out loud to the dragon, any form of entertainment would surely brighten its mood. 

Your eyes roam the crowded bookshelves, stuffed with literature of all kinds. From herbal tea recipes to novels and history books. The pad of your finger stops atop one of the shorter pieces, something you’d easily be able to finish within the day or the next. But before you can as much as pull it from its spot, squeezed between two thick history books, the sound of a floorboard creaking startles you. 

“It’s a little early to be up reading.” Your aunt Fiona sounds like she’s just caught a thief in the midst of its burglary. And when you turn to face her, you find a satisfied smirk stretched across her thin lips. — “I…” Your words fall short, your throat suddenly thick with a fear you couldn’t quite place. “Well I was just-” 

“You know I’ve noticed you sneaking around lately.” Fiona takes a step forward, and you start to wonder if she’d perhaps gotten up early solely with the intention of catching you. Her eyes gleam with satisfaction when they land on the book you had been reaching for just moments ago. — “Gone all day without as much as a word, you worry you old grandpa.” 

Your aunt would often use your grandfather as a pressure point, knowing that the mention of him would get you to crack. She takes another two steps forward, stopping a mere feet away. “Perhaps you’re trying to get out of your chores”, she nods toward the garden outside, even though it had been left unattended for a mere week. 

You shake your head, immediately trying to deny the accusations she was pinning on you. “It’s not-” — “Then what?” Fiona cuts you short, her voice snappy as her face twists into a small grimace. “What could be keeping you from your frail and old grandpa?” She had a point, and the fact that she did was a bitter thought indeed. You should be spending more time with your grandfather, you should be helping your aunt around the house, there are a lot of things you should be doing. 

The sound of your swallow is painstakingly loud, shattering through the brief silence. “I know…” You bow your head, shame trapping your will to go see the dragon up in the mountain. “I’m sorry.” 

Fiona seems satisfied with your answer. She purses her lips, humming to herself as she eyes the bag flung over your shoulder. “Leave it here”, she points to the sofa on your right, “You won’t be needing it for now.” — Reluctantly you do as she says, letting it drop to the soft cushion before turning to your aunt with disappointment surely written across your face. If she catches it, she doesn’t bother to acknowledge it. Part of you is relieved that she seems to have little interest in prying further. 

“The garden needs tending to”, she states before turning on her heel and heading for the stairs, likely with the intention of waking your cousins. But as she reaches the first step, she throws a glance over her shoulder, her sharp gaze landing on your still unmoving frame. Her eyes narrow, “And don’t even think about leaving the house until you’re finished.” 

You could understand your aunt’s reasoning. Raising three children and taking care of her sick dad would surely take its toll on anyone. Fiona was strong, a lot stronger than most people seemed to think. Usually you did not mind helping her, for it made you feel useful. — But today your heart yearns to be elsewhere. You find yourself glancing toward the mountain, your thoughts occupied by the pale dragon, the image of its icy gaze burned into your mind. 

Because of that you find yourself hurrying through your tasks. Your fingers pull carrots from the moist soil, they pick basil from the fresh plants and pluck ripe apples from the old apple tree that leans to the right. Sweat dribbles down your forehead, and you mindlessly wipe it with the back of your hand as you carry on forward. 

The work felt tedious today, and you stole peeks at the kitchen window, trying to catch a glimpse of your aunt as she moved about the house. When finally, after what felt like decades, your basket is filled to the brim with fresh nutrients, and the plants had all been watered and tended to, you return inside. 

Setting the heavy bag down on the kitchen table, you look for Fiona, but she’s nowhere to be found. Your eyes drift toward the living room, lingering on the book you’d reached for that morning. You had done your chores for the day, so there was technically no harm in sneaking away, if only for a few hours. 

𓍼ོ 

Your way up the steep mountain feels lighter that afternoon. Your steps have a slight skip to them as you bounce forward. Nothing seemed to weigh you down, not even the full on scolding that you might receive from your aunt upon your arrival back home. 

By now you find the lily with ease, its familiar and bright pink hue standing out perfectly among the clear and white snow. You’re excited, giddy even. The thought of spending time with the grumpy dragon brought you a kind of joy that should definitely concern you, and had you been any wiser, you probably wouldn’t have entered the cave that afternoon. 

It was even colder than last time, yet the air was still, not a single gush of air hurling your way. You creep forward, without getting lost, because you’d acquainted yourself with the layout of the maze-like mountain. Now every twist and turn felt like a familiar face, one you’d seen so many times before and would always remember with a nostalgic smile. 

You enter the opening that leads into what you had begun to call ‘the dragon’s nest’. The name was quite silly, but you didn’t mind since you were the only one to use it. But a frown quickly finds its way to your face as you regard the empty space. — The dragon was nowhere to be seen. Confused, you take another couple of steps forward, instinctively calling out for it, “Hello?” 

There was, of course, no answer. You didn’t know what you had expected to come out of the simple greeting anyway. Rocking back and forth on the sole of your shoes, your mind rakes with different possibilities of what could have happened. Had it taken off? Maybe someone had found it, even worse, killed it. 

No, that couldn’t be right. 

Then you spot it, light. That was new, for the cave had been nothing but a room of complete darkness, ever since you first stepped foot here. Eager, you approach the source, forgetting all about your lantern as you discard it on the floor. Due to your previous visits being spent in such dim light, you had never noticed that the cave curled in on itself, leading even deeper than you’d originally thought. 

The squeeze to get through however, was tight. There was no way a dragon would be able to fit through here. Rough and cold stone scrapes against your chest and back as you push yourself between the rocks, determined to find your way to the other side, to the light. — With a heavy sigh you finally stumble free, bracing your hands on your knees as you allow yourself to catch your breath. 

When you glance up you realize that what you had stepped into was an even bigger part of the cave. But this one was basked in the warm rays of the sun. You’re almost blinded by the bright light, and you shield your eyes with your arm. Half the cave opened up and out into the sky. From here, the snowy mountains looked absolutely breathtaking. 

And as you regard the snow coated treetops, the way the sun reflected off the white surfaces, it suddenly hit that you had never actually stopped to admire your surroundings. Each day had been a battle to the top, never once had you taken a break to glance around, to appreciate nature in its truest and rawest form. 

But your moment of serenity is quickly broken by the sound of what you assumed to be a rock rolling across the cavern floors, the noise ripping you from your trance. You spin around, eyes wide as you try to locate its source, all to no avail. This part of the cave seemed just as empty as the last and the frown on your face only grew. 

The dragon was really gone. 

Then, just as you’re about to turn back, all air was knocked out of your lungs. The first thing you feel is pain, sharp and flaring through your body when your back is slammed against the cave wall. Your scream never makes it past your lips. And suddenly, the light that had previously enveloped you whole, was gone, shielded by something – by someone. 

Your jaw hangs slack, the same terror you had felt on your first encounter with the dragon returning. It takes a moment for your flimmering eyes to adjust, but when they do you finally see the man before you. His face is dark, clouded by rage. The almost pitch black hair on his head falls in front of his eyes but you can hardly focus on his complexion, much too aware of the large hand he had wrapped around your throat. 

Your breath hitches, a faint and helpless gasp escaping your open mouth. Who was he? Why was he here… How did he know about this place? — But then your gaze falls on his naked chest, there, covered in gauze and moss, the very same gauze and moss you had so carefully wrapped around its once large wing.

Finally, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re dark and gloomy, but they’re familiar. As they narrow on you, there’s an undeniable hint of blue, shining within their irises depths – an icy and cold blue. 

You realize then that the man before you was the dragon himself. 

“I…” Desperately your fingers claw at his hand, trying to pry him off of you. The urge to speak is strong, but his vice-like grip overpowers it. His chest heaves, his breaths coming in ragged and rough, his hand around your throat tightening with deadly force. — “Why did you come back?” It’s the first time he utters as much as a word. It sounds strained, as though he’d gone years in silence. 

When he finally releases his hold on your neck you fall forward, clutching at your throat whilst gasping for air. He watches you soundlessly, his expression twisted into a scowl. “W-What..?” You finally manage to croak out, feeling as though your wobbly knees were about to give out any second now. 

The man scoffs, his fist connects with the cave wall next to you and the stones crack under his knuckles. “You should not have come here”, he barks, fury radiating off of him. “You do not belong here, human.” 

He says the term with such distaste, making it sound derogatory. Perhaps it was. Yet you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around it. This was the very same dragon you’d been tending to for almost a whole week now. The creature in which you’d poured your love and affection onto, carefully building what you thought to be a relationship based on trust. 

But as he stands before you in his human form, you hardly recognize him. 

The man takes a step back, leaving you to exhale in relief. He turns away from you, as if trying to disregard your presence completely. You watch as he approaches the edge of the cave, where the bright sky meets the dark mountain. — Even with his back turned, you could tell that he was beautiful, breathtaking. 

“I don’t understand…” Your quiet whisper seems to echo, a sound that you should be used to by now. Still, you can’t help but cower at the intensity of your words. The drag- man, does not turn to look behind him, does not spare you as much as a single glance. “It is not for you to understand”, he firmly states, his tone holding a bitter and resentful edge. 

You shake your head, “I helped you-” — “You humiliated me.” He’s looking at you now, his cold gaze reaching you from across the cave. Your stomach drops at the statement. Have you done something wrong? You thought you were helping… “You degraded me by putting your filthy human hands on me.” He spits the words out, his voice laced with a venom so poisonous that it sunk into your veins. 

“You were hurt-” 

“I would have been fine”, he snaps. You feel frozen under his stare, unable to move as you shrink against the cave wall. He glances toward the bandage around his chest, the traces of what you had thought to be a gesture of kindness and empathy was something he regarded with hatred. It hurt. His jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists by his side. 

“You should leave.” 

Your blood ran cold at that and your lips part, an objection ready on your tongue. But he’s quick to realize that you won’t budge. With a small grunt he turns his back on you a second time, as he does, you catch a glimpse of the many scars slashed across his skin. They were a bright white, appearing healed though it seemed not even time could make them fade completely.

Before you can get another word out, before you can reach for him – he leaps off the edge. A terrified scream leaves your lips, and you slap a hand across your open mouth in shock. For a second you thought that he might have actually taken his own life, right before your very eyes. Everything is silent at that moment, and you do not dare move. 

The sound of wings, slapping against the cold air is what gives you new hope. You see him, the pale blues easily giving him away as he pierces through the clouds, riding out the hurling winds. Your heart aches at the sight, for reasons unbeknownst to you, reasons you don’t think you wanted to get to the bottom of. 

Suppose you would miss him, the lonely dragon. 

𓍼ོ

Days passed. Days that would soon turn into weeks. The reality of your otherwise mundane life slowly sunk in, like fog easing its way from the ground after a rainy day. Only there was no sun to greet you after such gloomy weather. Your life seemed bleak these days. You did not know if that had to do with the absence of the dragon, whose name you never got, or your grandfather, whose health was declining each day. 

Your days had shifted, and you no longer spent as much time in the garden. Hours upon hours were passed in the presence of your grandpa. His hand in yours as your thumbs caress his old and wrinkled skin. — He would cough a lot, and you could tell that it his condition was starting to wear him out. Regardless of that, he continued to drag on his long stories about the dragons, only with slightly less action. 

Because even his stoires had found new attention. 

“You know, they were actually quite crafty too.” Your grandpa’s voice is hoarse, and sometimes you need to strain your ears in order to hear him. Nevertheless, you sit by his rockingchair as he inistied on not spending his entire days bedridden. A blanket is placed over his lap, for he easily got cold these days, despite it being late summer still. 

“The dragons?” You ask, to which your grandfather nods. “Ineed, in their human form of course. - And they were quite talkative too”, he recalls with a smile on his lips. You wanted to disagree on the matter, for the ice dragon you met had been anything but friendly. You thought you could still remember the glare he’d sent you, one that had stung through flesh and bone.

Your grandpa is attacked by another fit of coughs, and you help as best as you can by gently patting his back. “They sound lovely”, you murmur when readjusting the blanket over his legs. He gives your hand a thankful squeeze, humming in agreement. — “They are. Oh how I wish you should have known the gentle ways of a dragon, I think you would like it.” 

He remains silent for a brief moment, his tired eyes lingering on the open window. The soft and warm summer breeze occasionally brushed past, sending a refreshing wave of air your way. Outside your younger cousins play, their screams of both joy and youth bounce off the trees. “Even my daughter might come to terms with it, had she just given them a chance.” 

Something in the warm summer air shifted then, a darker cloud pulling over the otherwise clear sky. For long you had avoided the subject, danced around it because you were afraid, not of asking, but for receiving an answer. Still, your curiosity could not be contained, and as you witness your grandfather in his final moments, you realize that there might not be another oppurtitny for you to ask. 

You clear your throat, shifting on your own chair as your hands remained clasped around your grandpa’s. “Say… What happened with my great grandfather?” You present the questions calmly, yet you avoid his eyes, your attention fixed on your intertwined fingers. — With a wheeze-like inhale, your grandpa sighs. 

“You have not asked about him before”, he states and you can feel the slight tremble to his hands as they rest in your own. “No”, you say, “I haven’t.” You knew that avoiding this could not go on for forever, he knew it too. Your grandfather nods, taking another deep breath that seemed to cost a lot of effort. 

“My father was a fearless man..” He begins telling it like he would any other story, but there’s a definite melancholic edge to his tone. “He was the closest our family ever got to the dragons”, he pauses, eyes flickering to met yours for a brief second, “Some even speculate that he fell in love with one of them.” 

Your jaw slacks at that, the surprise evident on your face. “In love?” You echo, to which your grandfather chuckles. “She was a most beautiful woman, a man would be stupid not to recognize such, and my father was far from stupid.” He leans back in his rocking hair, it makes a creaking noise beneath his weight as it shifts backward every so slightly. 

“They did spend a great deal of time together, much so that it worried the others.” — “Days could pass without my father returning from the mountains once. It’s quite confusing for a young boy such as myself to be left with his absence. - But I knew then, that my father’s love for the dragons was something I should aspire for myself.” 

He made it sound beautiful, a lot more than it should have been. This was no fairytale for its ending was most gruesome. You knew that without having to ask. And with a heavy sigh, one that made his chest puff out before it shrunk again, your grandpa seems to come to terms with how the story had ended. 

“Despite their love she still carried the deadly traits of the dragon. - But his death was never her fault.” Your grandpa turns to you with a solemn smile, “That’s what he would have wanted me to say.” 

He doesn’t continue, even though you thought that he might. No, for once, your grandpa seems content with a shorter story, one that spoke for itself. Strangely enough it made you think of the dragon up in the mountain, he was not the same yet he was everything a dragon represented. He confused you, you told yourself that it was the reason he lingered in your mind, even when he shouldn’t. 

𓍼ོ

Ingredients for your grandfather’s medicine were of best produce if you harvested them yourself. Your aunt Fiona had therefore urged you out the house that morning, making you embark on a rather long walk as you searched for the plant she desired. It was of magical properties supposedly, and therefore it grew only under magical conditions. 

Lunarspore, or something along those lines was what it was called. A small, purple mushroom that thrived best in the murky waters of warm lagoons. Such a place did indeed exist on the island of Aethera, and as all humans, you knew its dangers. — Mushrooms weren’t the only thing that fed off of the almost glowing water. Beneath the surface lurked creatures far beyond any will of good. 

Your feet come to a halt by the edge of the lake, your eyes narrowed as they peered across the thicker layer of fog that coated the misty surface. An uneasy feeling bubbles within your stomach, but you don’t turn back around despite your gut instinct screaming for you to do just that. Instead, you crouch down by the water, gaze searching for the round and plump mushroom. 

It takes a while, but soon enough you stumble across one. With a relieved exhale you reach for the small knife stashed in your belt, flicking it in your open palm before reaching out to snag tha plant. You’re disappointed by its size, you would have expected them to be bigger. “This thing would barely last us a week..” You mutter as you begin searching for another one straight away. 

To your surprise you find a second mushroom almost immediately. But to your dismay it was further out in the lagoon. You hesitate, gaze flickering between the safety of land and the need for the mushroom ahead. These waters scared you, and you did not want to wade out further than absolutely necessary. — In the end your desire to help your sick grandfather wins you over. With one tug, you pull your dress above your knees as you begin your descent into the lagoon. 

For each step you take forward the water seems to get warmer. A strange and almost calm feeling washes over you, it puts you at ease, even as your mind yells for you to turn back. You ignore the strange sensations and keep your eyes set on the target ahead. Finally, as you reach the mushroom, you reach for it, but before the blade of your knife can slice it from its roots, a quiet whisper pulls your attention to the left. 

Nothing but still and purple water fills your vision, yet you can’t shake the feeling that you weren’t alone. Something, someone, was there with you, lurking and stalking where your weak human eyes couldn’t see. The whisper is soft, it sounds almost like a melody, a sweet and enticing tune. You know you shouldn’t listen, you should scream for its silence and beg for your life. 

But you can’t help but fall under its trance. 

The water moves, gentle waves brushing against your naked legs. Your dress falls from the now loose grasp of your fingers, the cotton immediately being soaked up by the lagoon. The mushroom is long forgotten and the knife threatens to slip from your hands. 

You see it now, long and flowy hair reaching the surface, its arms outstretched as it approaches. But you do not feel fear, in fact your whole body is calm, frozen in place as you watch the siren approach. You knew what was coming yet you couldn’t find it in you to lift as much as a finger in order to stop it. 

Its wet and long fingers lock around your wrist, slowly tugging you toward the murky water. Its song rings clear in your ears now, but you cannot make out as much as a single word. You allow yourself to be pulled, the water is warm and inviting, enveloping you whole. For a moment you forget about everything, nothing exists and time is not real. 

But then, just as your head was about to submerge under the surface, something hard and sharp hits you across the stomach. You’re lunged backward, snatched from the siren’s gentle but firm grip and hurled into the sky. At first, you’re too dazed to even realize what had just happened, but when your vision finally clears, and you behold the ground so far beneath you, is when you scream. 

Everything was moving at an alarming speed, the wind whistling in your ears, the sound followed by that of winds slapping against the air. You glance up only to be met by the very same dragon you thought you had seen for the last time. He’s looking straight ahead, clearly unbothered by your terror as you squirm in the gras of his long claws. 

If he let go now, you would fall to your immediate death, reduced to nothing more but a pile of shattered limbs as you melt against the ground. The thought scared the living daylights out of you and you stop fighting and instead cling onto him with all your might. 

You’re… confused. Why was he here? After your last encounter you’d been certain that you were to never cross paths again. Yet here he was, not only that… He’d saved you. You dare another glance down, beneath you your surroundings are changing quickly. From up here they all seemed small and insignificant, even the lagoon which you had almost fallen victim to. 

Your eyes shift toward the dragon, watching as his now healed wings tore through the sky, carrying you to a destination still unknown. You swallow, feeling at loss for words. His hold on you was firm, but it didn’t hurt but you felt pathetically weak squeezed between his claws. — The questions of why and how continue to run through your jumble of thoughts, even when the snowy mountain comes into vision. 

Up here, the mountain seems a lot smaller, lesser. Fog covers the bottom half of it, making it impossible to even get a peek of the ground itself. He aims for an opening, one so familiar that your stomach dropped all the way to your toes. You knew exactly where he was taking you now. 

He slows down, large wings twisting in the air as he comes to an almost abrupt halt. You shriek when the claws around you loose, making you slip from their hold. But the wet and cold cave floor isn’t far, and you land on wobbly feet with a small thud. The dragon quickly joins you, but the sound of him landing is not the loud and powerful noise you’re expecting, and when you turn around, you find him in human form again. 

He runs his fingers through his dark hair with a small shake off his head, it looked almost as though he was dusting himself off. Your eyes trail across his muscular frame, something you had barely allowed yourself to look at last time. Briefly you wonder why he always seemed to appear without a shirt or any garment to cover his chest, but when your gaze flickers over his toned stomach, you find that you did not mind. 

Dark yet cold and almost icy eyes flit over to you, and they narrow as he catches you staring. You blink, pulling your invading gaze from him as it jumps across the cave, one you had been in before, both of you. It’s then that reality slowly washes over you, you were here, with him, and he’d just saved you from a fate worse than death. There was only one thing to say. 

“Thank you.” 

You smile, hoping that the sincerity and your gratitude would show. But the man only frowns, his stoic features twisting into confusion as he watches you from the other side of the cave, a far and safe distance from you. “What for?” He grunts, the disbelief in his voice clear as day. 

With parted lips you find yourself mimicking his perplexed expression. “You saved me…” Because he did, right? But he only shakes his head, emitting a small scoff as his jaw clenches. “The siren, the lagoon, I was… I would be..” — “You would be dead”, he calmly states, the simplicity to his tone made you want to shiver. 

“I paid my end of the bargain”, he then says and for a moment you could not wrap your head around what he meant by that. Then it all came together. He was making amends for his broken wing, the one you had so carefully tended to, even without his compliance or permission.. Still he was willing to do the same for you, even if only to pay back the debt that seemed to weigh him down. 

“Now we no longer have any reason to see each other”, he states as a matter of factly. You can’t tell if he looks relieved or merely tired, or perhaps maybe just at peace. He turns from you, and you panic, worried that he was about to take off once more. You don’t think you could stand seeing him leave, not again. Truth was, you had grown quite attached to the dragon… Yet you knew so little about him. 

“You have yet to tell me your name.” It was the first question that came to mind. You bite your tongue, but when his eyes only narrow you quickly add, “You know mine.” It was true, you had told him your own name on your third or fourth encounter, for it had felt rude not to introduce yourself when tending to his wounds. 

He scoffs, averting his gaze as it roams the now pink sky, painted by the warm hues of the slowly setting sun. His cold skin looked raw under the orange rays, and you find yourself mesmerized by everything that is him. You had so many questions for him, so many answers you longed to hear. Was he really the last ice dragon? How did they all die, and why had he lived? 

Everything is silent for a minute, much so that you swore you heard the song of birds in the far distance. Then he exhales, a long and low breath. Without looking at you he says, “Taehyun.” 

“Taehyun is my name.” 

You instantly smile, practically beaming toward him. “That’s a beautiful name”, you hum. Taehyun snorts, giving a small roll of his eyes as he turns away from you to peer out over the sky. “There’s hardly anything beautiful about a dragon.” He says it so quietly, almost a whisper. It was probably never intended for your ears, but you hear it. 

Why did he loathe his own kind? How could he be ashamed of something so majestic as himself. It made no sense. — Your feet move on their own, slowly carrying you across the cave. You never stop to think, and Taehyun does not turn your way. Then, before you know it, you’re beside him. 

His skin is cold against your lips when you press a hesitant kiss to his cheek. His jaw twitches, and you feel his heavy gaze on you once you pull back. His dark brows are furrowed into a confused frown, but he doesn’t look angry. “It’s how we say thank you.” You smile in a way you hadn’t in ages. 

Taehyun watches you, his eyes studying your face intently, as if considering his next move carefully. “You humans are strange”, he mutters, but there’s an almost teasing edge to his tone, much different from his usual gloomy demeanor. “A good strange or a bad strange?” You ask as you nervously pull your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, turning to face your way and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize just how close you were standing. His expression is still hardened, as if stuck in a permanent frown. Within his dark irises swirl strings of cold blue, and they seemed to shimmer under the setting sun. 

You tense up when he suddenly moves even closer, his ice cold chest brushing against your flaring hot one. “Good”, he exhales, his cool breath slapping your across the face when he leans in to press his lips against yours. His kiss is not the same sweet and hesitant gesture you’d given, but it’s not rough either. It’s… him. 

A single shiver runs down your spine when his hand snakes to the back of your neck. It was so very different from when he’d had his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing with all his might. He touched you like you were made of porcelain, one push too far would make you shatter in his palm, and he would be unable to piece you back together. 

The kiss goes on for forever, time slows down until it ceases to exist. You want to watch him, drink in his almost serene expression. Yet your eyes flutter closed as you return the gesture. Never did you question why he did it, because that didn’t matter. He felt so perfect against you, as if he was made for you and you only. Perhaps in another universe he was, in a universe where you were just like him, and not a weak and frail human. 

He pulls back, lips parting only an inch from your own, his forehead resting against yours. He’s breathing softly, the tension washed from his face as he regards your flustered one. “That’s how we say thank you”, he murmurs. 

“Why are you thanking me?” You whisper, your wide eyes peering into his. Taehyun sighs, blinking slowly as he swallows. “I don’t know. Why are you thanking me?” — You smile, your shoulders slumping into a shrug. “I don’t know.” 

You saved him, and he saved you. A favor for a favor. You were no longer bound to the other yet it somehow felt like your heart was going to break into a million pieces if you let go now. Taehyun inhales slowly, his nostrils flaring when he does. “Can I kiss you again?” He wonders, and the question makes you almost delirious. 

“Yes.” You’re already pressing your lips against his, desperate to feel him on you once more. He smiles into the kiss, a gesture so warm and contrasting to the cold and freezing layer of ice covering him. — Your hands are on his naked chest, fingers splayed across the now healed scar. The soft groan he emits vibrates on your tongue, urging your bodies flush against one another. 

“You’re so warm”, he murmurs against your skin as his kisses move to your cheek and down your jaw. Your head falls back, the sunset basking the two of you in color, the world outside silently watching. — “You’re cold..” You whisper, your fingers intertwining in his dark hair regardless. 

Taehyun chuckles, a sound you’d never before heard him make, it made your heart flutter. “I am”, he hums, his own hands trailing down your sides, relishing in the way you shiver as you stubbornly cling to him. The cold could not deter you, it never had and it never would. For Taehyun’s heart held all the warmth you should ever need. 

The kiss ends for a split second in order for you to catch your breaths. Soft sounds of heavy panting fill the large cave, echoing off its dark and wet walls. You swallow, taking the moment to find your bearings as you gaze into his shimmering eyes. You knew then that he was someone you could trust, with your life if need be. It made your next move all the more obvious. 

As you brush a dark strand from his face, you exhale. “I… There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

𓍼ོ

“Careful”, you murmur as you lead your grandfather through the high grass. He coughs and tries to swat your hands away but you insist on keeping a firm hold around his shoulders. “There, there, don’t wear yourself out.” 

“Pfft-” Your grandpa scoffs, shaking his head as he trudges on forward. “I haven’t been out and about like this in weeks, I’ve saved plenty of energy for the occasion.” He assures you. But you could tell by his laboured breathing and trembling arms that he was tired. You would have felt bad bringing him out here, wasting his precious energy like that. — But today was different. 

“Why are we even out here anyways? You can hardly expect me to help harvest any herbs..” He mutters as his tired eyes flicker across the open meadow. It was calm, the late summer air basking the two of you in a warm glow. “No grandpa”, you smile as you pat his shoulder, “That’s not why we’re here.” 

Your old man hums, giving a small nod as you come to a stop in the middle of the opening. “I have seen grass before, dear.” He gives you a pointed look and you can’t help but giggle as you shake your head. “I know, you’ve seen what I’m about to show you before too… But I still think you’ll like it.” 

Your grandfather raises a brow your way, his lips parting as if to say something, but before he gets the chance to, the trees ahead rustle. The sound snaps both of your attention that way, and you manage to catch a glimpse of your grandpa’s curious eyes just as Taehyun emerges from the forestline. 

When you’d first asked him, the request felt pushy, perhaps a little too much, but to your greatest joy, he’d agreed. The white and blue scales on his skin shimmer in the sunlight, and his nearly translucent wings seem to sparkle when he moves closer. He looks magical, hauntingly beautiful. But you force your gaze away from him and over to your grandfather. 

He was watching Taehyun with a slack jaw, his eyes wide as sausages and you’re glad that you’re holding on to him when his legs buckle. “That..” He begins, his mouth dried up and his voice hoarse. He turns to you, as if in disbelief before quickly glancing back toward the dragon before him. “Is he real?” He quietly whispers and you bite back a giggle. 

“Of course”, you say as you take his hand in yours. “Do you want to get closer?” The question was hardly needed for your grandfather moves with both newfound strength and speed as he approaches Taehyun who’s standing a mere ten feet away. He stops only when the dragon’s cold breath caresses his old and wrinkly face, a smile unlike anything you’d seen before etching its way across his lips. 

“He’s real”, your grandpa states, and you swore you could see the happiness blooming in his heart. His gaze wanders across Taehyun’s blue scales, a small frown tugging on his brows. “He’s…” — “An ice dragon”, you nod, “They’re not extinct.” 

Taehyun makes a small sound that comes across as half a grunt, half a snort. Your grandfather doesn’t seem to mind, far too preoccupied with taking in the sight before him. “How?” He whispers as he reaches a trembling hand out to touch the very tip of Taehyun’s cold nose. The action is intimate, and it makes your heart swell.

You never give him an answer, you’re not sure what you could even say. All you knew was that you had made his final wish possible, nothing else could make you feel better. — He spends the entire day with Taehyun, and when he shifts into his human form the two converse for hours on end. You watch them, wordlessly admiring the two. From the way your grandpa’s face lit up whenever Taehyun spoke of his life, to the dragon himself when he listened to your grandfather’s stories. 

As the sun set you practically had to drag your old man home, promising that Taehyun would visit as soon as he had the chance. — Even though such a time never came. 

Your grandpa died that night, it was a peaceful death, one kind and gentle. You watched with tears in your eyes as he inhaled a last time, his chest rising as he did. And when he finally exhaled, everything stopped. Every story and every adventure of his were reduced to just that… tales. Something to remember and to cherish. 

You cried until the sun rose on the naked sky, your tears drying just in time for fresh ones to spill. You cried until your chest hurt and your lips were bitten bloody. You grieved your grandfather with every fiber of your being, until there was nothing left but large and hollow holes in your body, filled with an eternal sadness. 

Taehyun was there, he came when he heard your cries. Even though his embrace was cold and his arms freezing as they wrapped around you, there was never a moment where you felt yourself shiver. For there was warmth in his heart, enough for it to spread to your own. — Taehyun would help you live, just like you had helped him.

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[kvothbloodless]

Because I like creating stories! I like coming up with a plot and characters. I like worldbuilding. I like making decisions about themes and how I want to communicate them. I like figuring out pivotal scenes and how they'll play out. And while I don't love it, I also don't really have a problem with editing scenes and dialogue to fit better.

What I don't like, and indeed most days am not Able to do, is actually sitting down and converting all my well organized ideas and decisions and worldbuilding into tens of thousands of words of prose. I just do not enjoy it at all; I find it tedious and unengaging and it usually feels like pulling teeth. And even if I Did enjoy it, my disabilities make it near impossible to do anything like that most days.

And AI mostly solves that problem for me! Why Wouldn't I want to use it? Why shouldn't I use an awesome new tool that lets me find joy in creating stories I would not otherwise be able to create? Why shouldn't I want to share those stories with people?

I just don't understand tumblr user's immediate and outraged response to someone doing something that they also enjoy, just because they're doing it in a different way. I mean, I know a large part of it is because we like to equate suffering and struggle with value, but like. Cmon guys. Lets stop acting protestant (and ableist) here.

Something being harder to do doesn't make it inherently better! Hard work purely for the sake of hard work is dumb and helps nobody; you shouldn't be railing against people just because they're choosing to take advantage of a tool that allows them to produce art that they otherwise wouldn't. Or even art that they Would have made, but this lets them make it more easily! That's awesome! Being able to create a story or a piece of visual art in a day when it would otherwise take a week is amazing! What's the downside here? More art? More varied art (because now its easier to experiment and try new things)?

And yea, I will admit, AI isn't quite at the level where I can use it to create the stories I really want to Yet, its still so much better than any of the alternatives. So I ask again. Why Wouldn't I use it? Its letting me do something I enjoy, that I would not otherwise be able to do. Its not hurting anyone (please do not try to argue about how AI is killing the environment or stealing from artists unless you've actually done some reading and understand how the technology actually works). If its not for you, that's fine. Just like any tool, it won't be helpful for everyone. But that doesn't mean you should be hating on and ostracizing those who do find it helpful, nor that you should ignore any art produced using it.

Unpopular opinion but if you don't enjoy the process you should find a different thing to do.

And I think this is true in general but now I'm talking about it in the context of AI.

If you don't enjoy making art and only care about the end piece and how it'll look and how much traction it"lol get online then making art is not something for you, find something you enjoy from start to finish.

Same goes for writing: if you do not enjoy writing and rewriting and then some more and instead want AI to write for you, being a writer is not something you should pursue.

Sure, not every part of creative process is going to be equally enjoyable but you should get satisfaction from solving the problems along the way and you should get a sense of accomplishment on your way of "making the piece yours" and you should have a sense of ownership once you are done.

None of these things will come from typing in a prompt into chatGPT. And I am sad to see so many people are missing on the opportunity to experience the joy of making something with their own hands and brains.

[foldingfittedsheets]

So I just got back from the brick and had zero luck.

What's the best way to convince the mattress store I would rather sleep on the fucking concrete floor then that, show me a firm mattress. I keep getting shown what I can only describe as mattresses with the consistency of quicksand mixed with cotton candy which is painful and difficult for my size 18 ass to get out. Like I don't want a massive pit in the middle of my bed before I even buy it.

So yeah what's the magic words to convince the mattress store when I say firm I mean Firm. Like, glorified camping mat levels.

I'll also take Canadian mattress store recs but honestly I'm just offended at the stores being like oh you don't want firm.

So, what you’re running into is a Pavlovian response. When people say firm they often don’t understand the difference between firm support and firm comfort.

Firm support is beefy fucking coils or extremely high density foam. Firm comfort means really hard foam on top to none at all.

90% of our returns are because a bed is too hard. People underestimate how firm will feel on their joints after eight hours and we take a return because people wouldn’t listen to us that they actually wanted firm support. So we get docked pay and the next time someone comes in saying firm we try even harder to avoid that so we don’t get burned again.

In 80% of those situations people are actually happier with a medium if they give it a shot, too. So you have positive reinforcement of people not loving firm beds and negative where we have bad things happen to our pay for firm beds and yeah. Thats what happened.

You can try a different store or try going at a different time to find someone who listens better.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request headcanons for Leviathan, Satan, Beleth, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Mammon reacting to shy gn s/o asking him if you can kiss him on the lips in private please?

Asking WHB demons to kiss them in private

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan will laugh at first

"Private? Why? We can kiss right here in front of everyone!"

But if you keep insisting, he will let you drag him into a nearby back alley

Don't expect it to end only with a kiss though

There will be at least some hand wandering until you stop them

And once you get back to the castle, Satan will expect to continue where you two left off

       ༺☆༻

No problem for Mammon at all

If his s/o wants a kiss in private, they'll get it

In a flash he summons his golden hands that create a blocade around you, so the two of you are securely alone

Similarly to Satan however, expect his hands to wander to his favorite part of you

       ༺☆༻

In Leviathan's case, I'd say that this is a usual setting for the two of you anyway

Unless you emphasise the 'privacy' a bit more to drive the point across even to those nobles that are around, but invisible

Also, I think you'd have more success getting a kiss from Levi by telling him that you're going to kiss him rather than asking him

It's playing into his forced-submission kink and by asking him, he has the choice to refuse

So I'd recommend not asking, but straight up telling him that you're going toegther somewhere more private

       ༺☆༻

"Ah! I thought you'd never ask! I would love to whisk you away from everyone to have you only to myself! ...and maybe some of my clones!" he grins

He did understand what you meant, but it's much more fun to mess with you just to see your reaction

He'll even grab your wrist to softly tug you along, much to anyone elses, who might be around, dismay

But in reality, he is granting you your wish by simply leading you to a place with only the two of you

He might of might not summon some clones that will ask for a kiss as well

       ༺☆༻

Beleth might be busy, but never for you

So when you ask him, he'll pause for a second and think about where is the biggest chance to not be interrupted by anyone

Then he simply chuckles and picks you up like it's nothing and starts walking

Plus he's super warm so you can just lean into his chest and enjoy

(I just imagined Beleth kabedon-ing me and oof, I might go and think about it for a while :D)

       ༺☆༻

Honestly... I don't think Asmo would

And if he did say yes, it wouldn't be as private as you thought

He's a show-off to say the least

And if you're uncomfortable doing stuff out in the public, he will still try to argue exposure therapy to you

So yes, if you ask him if you two are alone, he'll nod that you are

But in reality there's a good part of Abaddon demons behind some curtain, wishing they were in your place

       ༺☆༻

Just like with Levi, I imagine you and Lucifer being alone by default

Most of his nobles are always too busy tending to patients and Jjok...

Jjok is probably struggling for his life somewhere (poor baby U.U)

But maybe you feel too exposed in the large greenhouse...

(That's so valid tbh)

Lucifer has no problem taking it somewhere else just for your comfort

He'll even keep it respectful and not try to push it any further

[sirbonesly]

Price's not-so-soft wife

Rewatching M*A*S*H* (the episode about Peggy getting a job and BJ having a crash out b/c of it) and the thought hit me. What if Price's wife, who's nearly as tall as him, quit her job when she married him, is actually competent.

You had the entire team's phone numbers, could call any of them if you needed something while John was on mission. But now they're all away, all four of them fighting on the other side of the world, and you're left at home.

The sink is leaking.

Sure, you could call a plumber, but the guy on the phone is throwing out words you don't understand and that price seems a little high. So you do what any other person would do. Youtube.

It goes decently well. The fix lasts for about two days, and then you're running over to your neighbour's house and asking them why the hell your hot water pressure is fucked.

Again, it's a simple fix, and Anise shows you exactly how to fix what went wrong, lets you take notes on it and everything. It's the beginning of your growth.

The boys are gone for nearly two months, a no-contact mission, so you can't even call them. It's like everything wants to go wrong because they're gone, the house throwing a hissy-fit about their absence.

The washer, the telly, the hot water heater, the sink (again?!), even the sliding back door gets jammed. Each time, you look up a video, fix the issue, and if something goes wrong, you run to Anise for help. But after the sink breaks for the third time (seriously, the house missus John) Anise finally convinces you to get a new one.

She drags you out to local Homebase and teaching you what to look for in all of the appliances. You take extensive notes on your phone, taking pictures of the washer/dryer set you really like (just in case) and leaving with a sink.

By the third month, fixing things in the house has become a new adventure for you. A loose cabinet? Easy as pie. The washer broke? This is why you took those pictures, already on the phone with Homebase.

When they boys do finally come home, John's expecting his soft wife to be waiting for him. He texted her when he left base, figured that she would have dinner cooking like always, ready to feed four hungry men. What he walked in on, his boys following like a line of ducklings, is you, sitting in front of the dishwasher, toolbox next to you. Dressed in one of his old work shirts, hands a bit wet, a bandana keeping the hair out of your face, you tighten a bolt with a wrench John swears he's never seen before.

And when you finally notice them? You drop the tools, running into John's arms with a smile, and he can feel every single new muscle you've managed to build up.

"Love, what are you doing?"

"You were gone, and things started breaking. Learnt how to fix them."

His soft wife has gotten a little tougher, and while there's an underlying guilt about not being here to help you, John feels proud.

[andreilslovechild]

A Study on Aaron Minyard and Hatred

I've been in this fandom for years now. somewhere around 5 years or so. and since I've been here there's always been a distinct theme in how people talk about the brother of our beloved main love interest. see people speak about aaron in two ways mainly. the first way is, of course, labeling him as hateful and homophobic and disliking him because he dislikes Neil. the second way is building on his more personable characteristics and having him paired with someone else like Katelyn or Kevin to mellow him out. both of those are all well and good, everyone is entitled to their opinions and all, but I've never quite seen people look at both of those sides at the same time so I want to try and consolidate my thoughts on the matter.

first of all, I personally rarely consider aaron inherently hateful in my own understanding of him. annoyed or disgusted sure, but not necessarily hateful. mainly that hate is focused on three people from what the fandom talks about: Neil, Andrew, and Nicky. I'm using hate a broad term for dislike just for the ease of things right now so don't yell at me, but I think it fair to say the fandom typically pits these three up against aaron in a way that makes aaron look like the bad guy a lot of the time.

if I'm honest, I never really felt he hated Neil more than just didn't care much. at least until he found out about him and Andrew and gave him his version of the shovel talk. maybe a bit when Neil used Katelyn against him. but overall I never quite got it when people said he hated Neil, let alone hated him for "no reason". like id be annoyed too if a guy waltzed onto my college sports team while im studying premed, and turned out to be the long-lost son of a serial killer with a mouth so big it was a wonder hes still alive. plus he was super shady before all that was revealed too, but aaron was still pretty neutral when Andrew brought Neil into the monsters. he even spoke back to the upperclassmen when they freaked out about Neil sitting with the monsters. if you all need me to get the quotes I will, but it's currently like 2am, and I just can't be asked right now lmao. either way, the only time aaron really hates Neil in the books is when he uses Kate against him to get him to go to therapy. which was done for his own good in the long run, and I doubt aaron stayed upset about it for too long. plus we always have to be careful here because we are seeing things from Neil's perspective, someone who is inherently an unreliable narrator in the story.

in Nicky's case, there's a lot to consider. aaron definitely does and says some things (again not finding specifics rn because it's 2am) that are hurtful to him, or offensive. I certainly don't really blame people for reading it as homophobic on a surface level. but that's exactly what it is. surface level. his feelings about Nicky are probably the second most complex in this instance. because Nicky is his cousin, caregiver, friend, whatever you want to call him. They're close, they mean something to each other. but aaron also grew up with Tilda, probably talking with his family over the phone every few months, seeing them maybe once a year or two. when aaron moved to South Carolina he was 13. Nicky would have been 17. aaron probably spent a lot of time with him at first to avoid being alone before he made friends himself. used him as an excuse to get out of being around Tilda alone. which undoubtedly left him susceptible to Luther's preaching. I could make a whole other post on this alone. Still, he would have known Nicky was gay and that it was "wrong". He likely saw only his mask, not the depression inside because Nicky would have wanted to be happy with his cousin. he probably was around when Nicky went to Germany and then came back loud and proud, telling him about a man named Erik and finally standing up to his parents. to us, it's inspirational, exciting even, but for aaron it was like Nicky was abandoning him. He had gotten through Nicky being gone with drugs and staying out of the house as much as possible, but now knowing Nicky was leaving him there alone with his mom for what he assumed would be forever would have hit him hard. he never hated Nicky for being gay. he was angry he had left him, and he had grown up surrounded by the ideals Luther preached and likely his mom did too. with that, plus how uncomfortable it would be to have your cousin being openly sexual around you to an extreme extent like Nicky, I don't blame him really for how he reacted. he was disgusted by the thought of his cousin having sex, not who it was with. I can't remember if his disliking Erik is a canon or fanon thing. Still, he disliked him for taking Nicky away, not because he was a guy. Long story short I don't think aaron ever truly hated Nicky or was truly homophobic. I think he was just a scared kid who learned the wrong words and didn't know how to be vulnerable.

Andrew. good old Andrew. the most complicated relationship in Aaron's life save maybe his mom. I think we all know aaron doesn't hate Andrew. just like Andrew doesn't hate aaron. it's impossible for them to hate each other because they are so irrevocably tangled up and tied to each other's lives. from the second they found out about each other, everything they've done has been for the other in some way. mostly on Andrew's end sure but aaron has also done his share. see out of everyone here I think Andrew is the person that aaron thought he hated the most. he was angry about Tilda, about the drugs, about how Andrew refused to look at him. but deep down he knew he couldn't really hate Andrew. if he truly hated him he wouldn't have stuck around him this long to try and form a relationship with him. he wouldn't have bothered renewing their deal after graduating high school. he may have been stubborn and confusing and made aaron want to pull his hair out in frustration, but I don't think hatred for Andrew truly existed in him. For certain actions maybe, but him overall? definitely not.

Aaron Minyard may have been complicated, cranky, and annoyed for the majority of the times we see him, but he never truly hated anyone. not in the way people seem to think at least. and certainly, never the three people hes accused of hating the most.

[kittenboom]

Wow, that question really bought back a lot of memories #triggered 🤣🤣 but I have been on the other side of that question where those words were spoken but what they REALLY wanted to ask was "why don't you have a driver licence? What is wrong with you?"

Probably will always hit a nerve for me, because I have been on both sides.

I probably will regret oversharing, but what else is new, it anyone reads this & is dealing with increasing anxiety around getting their license (or getting it 'at the right age')... maybe it will bring you some comfort?

I got my 'learners permit' in high school, as part of my school's curriculum, I would have been 16 turning 17.

That piece of paper is the starting point, but it does require follow up to actually DO the learning to drive part.

Personal context: my dad is not great with patience and even being a passenger would give me anxiety, so he was not an option to train me. My mum agreed to teach me but had zero interest in us driving. I won't get into it, but basically she was always happy to drive us around and here is the most important part -

MY MOTIVATION levels were basically non-existent.

At that age, I had plenty of friends with cars who were happy to drive me around & I had been taking public transport to school/work for years at that point.

People would say "you don't understand how much freedom you get when you get your license" and it would be sooooo easy to dismiss because in my mind - I WAS already an independent teen/young adult.

I made plans with friends who would pick me up & I would feel very mature & free. I could leave home & catch a bus to the train line from which I could go anywhere. I worked part time. I HAD freedom, what was the rush?

Age 17, I fell in mutual love for the first time, they were two years older than me (as most of my friends/partners are).

By the time I was 19, me not having my license was no longer cute. It started internalizing the guilt I had for not getting onto it sooner/having it already. At this point, almost everyone my life (except my sister), had their license. I was comfortable & complacent relying on partner to drive.

Public transport is available but the flip side is the time it takes 20 min drive vs 45-60 mins via public transport. There were taxis too of course, with uber & ridesharing right on the horizon. The reality was even though these "independent options" existed for me, I rarely used them, instead I basically abused the goodwill of my loved ones.

At age 20, I decided to bite the bullet & buy myself lessons with a real driving instructor. I was proud of myself. I had only had my best friend take me out once and my mum a couple of times at that point.

This would be my second time driving a manual car. I really wanted my manual license. The cars I wanted to buy were cheaper in manual, but basically - people don't give you shit about it like they do with an auto license (in Australia anyways).

The down side - this driving instructor I picked was the fucking worst. We only had three lessons, the third license she made me turn out into peak hour traffic and my anxiety went into overdrive. I will never forget her making me pull over to whip out her phone to show me very graphic images of what happens to people who crash with their hands in the wrong position on the steering wheel. Aka she traumatized me something wicked.

I remember this vividly as I had my first international trip ever to Indonesia and whilst over there, I lost my phone. When I got back to Aus, I had to buy a new one, eventually got my number changed over and then started getting all these messages through from the driving instructor - asking about when our next scheduled lesson is that escalated to her threatening to charge me for being non responsive. It was insane as actually, I had to respond "really sorry I just got back from a trip where I lost my phone" & she apologised but I was like "yeah I don't plan to do anymore"

This set me back from driving for another few years. I decided to go for my automatic license, so I could at least drive something, I could always go for my manual drivers licence after the fact. I was sick of waiting.

So I found a driving instructor who specialised in teaching people with special needs. She was amazing. Where I am from you need to complete 50 hrs of supervised driving and I completely my log book hours with just driving lessons. It cost me a lot of money, it took A LOT OF TIME.

My first practical driving exam, I failed within a few minutes because I took a turn too early, having to rebook that was so humiliating (& of course they make you pay the full fee again). However I knew it was a stupid error and something that in Non-test conditions, would not have been an issue.

My second practical driving exam, I passed with flying colours. I had only 1 mark deducted because during my reverse parking, we could feel the back tyres bump the back car park block ever so slightly. I still considered it a massive win.

Unfortunately, by the time I actually got my P plates at age 24, and could drive unsupervised, the person I owed the MOST drives to, my first love, was no longer with us.

The statement: "you get so much freedom when you can drive yourself around" is unfortunately true. It's not just control of your destination that you get, but also better control of your time.

I will tell the story about how I lost my license for a year another time. It's not a fun story either BUT I have a lot to say about having taken so long to get my license, only for it to be taken away during a time when I really needed it.

Also the juxtaposition of my OLDER sister, still not having her license (but making weird meandering progress nonetheless).

The moral of this story is: yes, if you live somewhere that isn't a walkable paradise, I highly recommend you take a step towards getting your licence!

Just say "fuck it" to all the pressure /norms that tell you you have to do things a certain way. The only way is safely. The most important quality you can have with driving is confidence and that takes time!

So I guess this is telling you to give yourself permission to take your time, as much time as you need, to learn to feel comfortable with it. You just have to keep going.

since this is the "no drivers license" website i wanna see everybodys reasons

[redsrooftopprincess]

Hi!! I love the way you write the bayverse boys, especially your headcanons! My favorite has to be your disability headcanons, I'm disabled and I love seeing representation. Would you be willing to write some headcanons of how the boys would act with a disabled partner? I know that's kind of a vague request since there are so many different ways to be disabled, but maybe some general headcanons on how they'd be with a partner that just has a hard time doing the "everyday" stuff, like getting out of bed/brushing teeth/walking around for a long time? I understand if you're not comfortable with writing this!

Hello, my dear anon! You're in luck! Luck? Is that the word? Idk. I, myself, am disabled! I'm only really comfortable writing the disabilities I'm intimately familiar with (without extensive conversation with people who do have them), but I CAN speak to the ol' classic combo of ADHD, Autism Spectrum Disorder, and Sensory Processing Disorder (I have an alphabet full, but these are the main 3 that cause me daily issues).

AuDHD Reader Headcanons

Here are some ways our boys would actively love a Sensory Avoidant Autistic with ADHD (much, non-physical love to my fellow neurosparklies), and a few things they might have a little trouble with.

Leo

Don't worry about a thing, love. He's got you covered.

Need a dark quiet place to hide for a while? His room exists. It's already perfect.

Leo's a light sleeper, so your very soft morning alarm, *will* wake him, but he loves that he doesn't have to endure an obnoxious wake up call.

If he's not there to fix them himself, your current breakfast foods and drinks are already on the counter waiting for you. A lunch box / containers sitting behind them, just in case you can't eat yet.

Always has a portable safe food on hand in case you get distracted or forget to eat AND forgot what he laid out for you, as well as earplugs, sunglasses, a water bottle in whatever temperature you prefer, and a soft hoodie just in case you're having one of *those* days where *everything* is too much.

Expect him to be checking in every few hours. He doesn't want to overwhelm you with constant attention, but will ensure meds, water, and food happen.

If you can't speak, he'll usually be pretty good at picking up on what you need until you can talk again.

Issues:

Leo has OCD. While at first, he may be fine picking up after you when you leave a mess, it could build resentment after a while, so try not to keep your stuff in his room.

Leo's never had an issue with executive function, so expect him not to understand why you can't just *do* the thing. It'll take a bit for him to get that your brain needs to play before it's capable of doing a task that doesn't give you dopamine, and he may give you a hard time about "getting the important thing done first."

Raph

He's got this. Donnie's autistic, so he has an idea of what to expect... at least, he thinks he does. Hopes he does. Regardless, he'll figure it out.

He cleans the HELL out of his room the first time you come over, no chaotic mess or wierd smells allowed. He may have a bit of an issue *keeping* it that way, but if he notices it's affecting you, he'll handle it.

Pressure. Therapy. My guy gives the BIGGEST BESTEST hugs and will hold you as long for as tightly as you need. (This is really all of them, but I have a favorite, okay?)

OT anyone? Existing physically is hard when you feel like you have to tell every part of you, separately, what to do. Posture and overall muscle mass and flexibility suffer. Raph is there to make sure that doesn't happen. He won't be a dick about it, and he'll find ways to make the weightroom more sensory friendly, but he won't be okay with you neglecting yourself.

Similarly, nutrition! Raph has this uncanny ability to make just about ANYTHING into a safe food. Up to and including removing things after the dish is done cooking. If you order take out and you don't like mushrooms (or your disliked ingredient of choice), expect them to be removed before you even sit down. Multivitamins and hydration are also priority, and expect him to occasionally shove a water bottle in your face. He has a vested interest in you staying healthy.

He usually knows how and when to interrupt you to avoid the bulk of hyperfixation rage, and even when you snap at him, he knows not to take it personally. He's used to Donnie's "moments," so he'll just silently raise a brow ridge and wait for you to fully come back to earth.

Loves to sing and when you lay on his shell the reverb of his rich baritone feels niiiiiice. 10/10 for sensory regulation.

Listens oh so patiently to your info dumping. Half the time he has no idea what your saying, but he loves the sound of your voice and he loves how excited you get about your latest hyperfixation. Seeing you bouncy and bright eyed about... cereal or whatever, can fully turn his day around.

Issues:

Raphael is a physical guy, If you are touch averse, expect this to be a problem. He'll try not to take it personally, he knows it's not personal, Donnie doesn't like being touched either, but it does mess with his head for a while. During those times you're okay with physical contact, try and give him all the reassurance.

Can be a bit pushy about your health and safety at times. Usually it's easy to determine when there's an actual threat and when he's just being overprotective. He's getting better about the latter.

Donnie

'Tism twins!!!

While there is the usual social tapdance of "what type of neurospicy are you?" when you first meet, you both know how important it is to get as much information as possible right up front, so you know how to operate around each other.

Infodumping becomes an art form. You can see be working in silence for hours when one of you will start talking, already halfway through your own conversation in your head, and the other is instantly on board. You learn a LOT from each other about the most beautifully random things.

Expect him to keep a small fridge/pantry stocked with safe foods (when he remembers) and drinks (when he remembers). You more or less end up taking turns restocking everything when you notice the other's safe foods are out.

Fidgets. Everywhere.

Understanding that when either of you check in with the other to make sure they're staying on task, it's not passive aggressive, and your genuinely asking if they need help staying focused.

Has a "Sensory Regulation Chamber" in the lab that's essentially just quiet room stocked with anything either of you need to regulate. Sunglasses, fluffy sweaters, a drum set, you need it? He'll get it.

Issues:

Beware the usual issues that arise with Neurodivergent couples, when your 'tism clashes with his. If you need quiet and he needs to infodump, you can direct him elsewhere, but you're his person, and he wants to tell YOU. So expect pouting.

Hyperfixation rage on both sides can be a huge problem, and if you're not careful, it can quickly turn into a full blown fight over nothing.

Mike

It's all good, Angel. Whatever you need.

The most chill about it, and will fully roll with the punches whenever something happens he isn't expecting.

Snacks? Snacks. No need to worry about the stress of sitting down to, or putting together a whole meal. He's got your safe snacks on hand at all times.

His hoodie is now your hoodie. Full stop.

Want to watch the same movie, listen to the same song, play the same game, or eat the same food seventeen times in a row? Hell yeah! Let's go for the record!

Many with SPD (sensory processing disorder), know how helpful cannabis can be. He and Donnie are already tinkering with some plants, so he'll put a few aside to breed into something that tones down the world without leaving you tired and foggy.

Will listen to you infodump for hours with a goofy lovestruck smile on his face. You'll think he isn't listening, but he'll surprise you with something later that shows just how closely he was.

Issues:

OVERSTIMULATION. And NOT in the fun way (maybe the fun way, but that wouldn't necessarily be an "issue"). Both he and his space are bright and loud and there's a lot of stuff with very little organization. which we all know isn't a problem... Until, suddenly, it really *really* is. Set up a quiet space. You will need it.

Similarly, he's got a bit of a codependency issue. They all do, really, but Mike's is pretty extreme. Before you, things were... dark. And now you're here and things are awesome and what do you mean you don't want to snuggle on the couch right now? Did he do something wrong? Handling touch aversion and your occasional need for solitude takes him a WHILE.

ALL OF 'EM

These boys are sensory heaven. It's like they were made for sensory regulation. From textured skin to big strong arms to their churr basically solving every problem in your world, if only for a little while, expect them to be your safe space and refuge.

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @sacred-holy-light @celeste-clearwater-06 @pheradream-15 @its-a-me-emmabee

[fluffygiraffe]

PJ and Sparkles's Official Reference 2.0!

I DID IT! Both of them, side by side!!! Now it looks good too :).

Drawing Rules + Info!

PJ

11'7 (w/o hat + antennae)

That's a bell on his bow. Please. please I've seen it misdrawn so many times I'm going to burn down an orphanage plEASe- /sillyj /nm

His antennae can bend any way he wants! You can make any shape with it. :3.

Kitty mouth or no mouth. Always needs a kitty mouth.

Cheeks, cheeks touching the top of his mouth, eyelashes, and mouth connecting to the bottom/edge of the screen are mandatory! :D

His mouth doesn't really open, so I recommend not drawing him with an open mouth.

Those are ball joints.

Don't remove his hat, please.

PJ's arms are not fabric. They are flocked silicone, so please keep this in mind!

Three bumps on arms only. Please :3.

Silly arm-wrist things and neck fluff aren't mandatory, but I'd love if if you drew it.

Don't flip the Star Symbol. Ever. You don't want Her upset with you.

Everything else can mostly be changed to fit your style! :3333

Sparkles

3'2 (w/o antennae)

Antennae cannot be bent. They're supposed to look like ears!

Whiskers are mandatory, only three whiskers.

Eyes are never open.

Never depict her as upset. Angry and Happy are her only emotions. She does not have enough brain cells to be upset. <3

That's about it. :3

Basic Lore:

PJ!

Unlike Mr. Puzzles, PJ watched every children's show that existed!.. And not much else. Due to this, instead of Five Stars, his goal is to befriend the SMG4 crew and teach them how to be good friends by teaching them lessons he's seen in the cartoons he's watched! And maybe he'll befriend everyone else in the Mushroom Kingdom. That would be a nice little bonus! He wants to make them Happy as well, but what's the harm in that..? He's only helping them! Trust me! He doesn't mean any harm!.. But he causes it anyway.

PJ's cutesy, sweet, and oh-so nice! He just wants to play and make friends with everyone! MaybespreadHerWordaswellifthey'dliketohear. He usually keeps a cheery happy persona, and is super cuddly and sweet! He'd LOVE to give you a hug! But this doesn't mean PJ's not prone to other emotions. He gets easily frustrated and upset, and his heart is oh-so brittle. Be nice to him, wontcha? Wouldn't want to make him upset.

Don't worry, PJ can't hurt you! He has safety features which keeps him from hurting anything Fully Human or Fully Animal! Anything that doesn't classify normally in either of these two classifications or something in between is Fair Game. What? Who said that? Hmm, seems it was nothing. But anyway, PJ wouldn't hurt a fly! Nor would he want to! :). Though, this doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful! Under that silicone and fluffy material, he's got Metal Bones. Don't play rough, now!

PJ loves and encourages escapism, every form of it! Ignoring, forgetting, forcefully removing it from your brain, all of it's perfectly fine to him! He'll even help you if you let him! He may even show you a new way of getting rid of all those icky imperfections if you let him! How nice of him! Don't you love your Best Friend?

PJ sees himself as the good guy in this situation and doesn't understand that he's doing bad by doing all the things he does. He's helping and not hurting, after all! Western Spaghetti and Wotfi 2023 weren't exactly his fault, he didn't know the other's intentions with his best friends. And he didn't know It's Gonna Be Perfect would go Oh So Wrong... It went all out of his control. He didn't want this to happen. He never wanted his friends to get hurt. But what's a good guy without flaws? He'll fix himself! And he'll fix the crew too! Happy smiles all around without any responsibility for the rest of time; as long as they let him help!

Why don't they... Like him though?

PJ's been nothing but nice. Why are they so mean to him? They hurt him. They beat him. They yell, scream, and fight him. He tried so many times, but they kept hurting him. This isn't fair. They forgive each other for mistakes, and yet, they don't forgive him? The one that's trying to make it better? The one that's trying to make them better? They don't even know of Her Word. What's to come to all of them. What's to come for everyone. Every universe. How ignorant.

Useless to fight. Useless to cry. Oh so useless. All of it. They don't deserve to feel such emotions or think such thoughts. Maybe it's better if PJ takes it all away from them, so they can be the best people they'll ever be without flaw or hurt. A smile on their face! All because of their Best Friend, PJ. They'll be thankful, PJ knows that much. They'll love him, realize what they've done wrong, and just let him do as he needs with their minds. As it all should be. He'd let them do the same if he knew they wouldn't take advantage of him.

This is how you. Treat friends. Right?

...

Of course, it is! They just need to learn how to treat friends properly! Silly billes! :3.

Sparkles!

Who's that making her way over oh-so slowly? Look! It's Sparkles!

Sparkles is PJ's Kit-TV, and she's often not seen because PJ makes extra care that she's not hurt by the meanie crew! They don't know how to treat each other, so they most likely don't know how to treat his kitty.

Sparkles used to be a normal kitty a long while ago, but due to being really hurt and weak when Winston PJ found her, PJ put her in a TV, altered it, and saved her! Don't worry, her Quality of Life is lots better! Although she can't walk fast, she's got all the wet food she could want, all the kitty toys she could want, a safe little carpeted room in The Playhouse with a baby camera inside to make sure she's always safe, and all the love from PJ she could ever desire!

Although she seems like a sweet kitty, be careful! She's EVIL!! Eviler than any Mr. Puzzles combined! Gasp!.. What evil things could she do, you ask? Well! She BITES FINGERS! Dun dun DUUUN! Don't worry, her teeth are silicone, and can't pierce through your skin. Or. Anything, actually. Which is the reason PJ makes her specialized wet food. :).

PJ used her as the basis for the Adware in It's Gonna Be Perfect! (not it's gotta be perfect, this change is purposeful. That's for later, though.) And, although Sparkles could talk perfectly full sentences there, all Sparkles can do is make a very loud "MEW!" outside your computer screen. And she's not very smart either.

Speaking of her mews...Sparkles is VERY vocal! Her bitcrushed mews are VERY loud! Careful of your ears! :3.

... someverypowerfulcharactersthoughtit'dbefunnytomakeherimmortal.so.nowsheis. not to mention a few more powers i can't get into here. watch for me, you will see me again.

Her body is metal, though she has a few sensors on the top of her head, the sides of her body, and the bottom of her TV! Which means you can pet her with her feeling it! Isn't that sweet?

Sparkles can't open her eyes, but she can see!... Kind of. You see, her eyesight is very poor. She will run into walls... And legs... And everything. And she can't exactly turn around fast to avoid these things. Hence, the room PJ carpeted for her.

Next time you hear the pitter-patter of silicone paws on the ground with a very loud "MEW!" behind it, say hi to her!.. And give her back to PJ, she isn't meant to escape-!

~

wwwwoah. This is. lots. whoops, hehe.

Well! Hope you like it!

[semperama]

I love this fandom so much, I really do, but I just do not understand the need to be constantly litigating aspects of shipping and characterization with some (real or imagined) cabal of naysayers. Who cares if some Tommy stans made a blocklist? Who cares if Eddie haters don't understand him like you do? None of those Twitter/Bluesky people are seeing your rants, and if they do, they don't care, but the rest of us DO have to see it, and all it does is 1. make those of us who don't seek out the drama aware of it in a way we don't want to be, 2. contribute to a general air of negativity that's really draining, 3. create a cycle of reactivity and troll bait.

Call me crazy, but I don't think "discourse" should be anyone's primary contribution to fandom. It's just so unnecessary. You can choose to ignore or block people you disagree with and leave platforms that make it impossible to do those things. It's not good for your brain to allow yourself to constantly be ragebaited.