#though I totally have to do more research later

[wonder-worker]

"[Elizabeth Woodville's] piety as queen seems to have been broadly conventional for a fifteenth-century royal, encompassing pilgrimages, membership of various fraternities, a particular devotion to her name saint, notable generosity to the Carthusians, and the foundation of a chantry at Westminster after her son was born there. ['On other occasions she supported planned religious foundations in London, […] made generous gifts to Eton College, and petitioned the pope to extend the circumstances in which indulgences could be acquired by observing the feast of the Visitation']. One possible indicator of a more personal, and more sophisticated, thread in her piety is a book of Hours of the Guardian Angel which Sutton and Visser-Fuchs have argued was commissioned for her, very possibly at her request."

— J.L. Laynesmith, "Elizabeth Woodville: The Knight's Widow", Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts: Power, Influence, Dynasty

[orcelito]

Went skimming thru late trimax For Reasons, got caught up reading the Legato fight, realized things about the fight that I never had before & went WOW, I kind of want to write an analysis post right now!

Felt the same kind of insanity grip me, however momentarily, that fueled all my analysis posts however many months ago. Too tired to actually word things coherently right now, but...

I May or may not have a full(ish?) analysis of the Legato & Vash fight a la style of This post analyzing the Trigun: Multiple Bullets fight that got unexpectedly kind of popular. People seemed to really appreciate that one, & I even had some ppl saying it could be cool if I did that for others?

So. Legato fight. Maybe. Feel free to remind me later if u see no mention of it again for over a week lol

[star-anise]

Disclaimer: I like Anita Sarkeesian.

But also, I just saw a writeup of a Youtuber whose content has come a long way from his Gamergate days, and to explain that, the wiki says, "Anita Sarkeesian is a radical feminist who created a webseries about sexist tropes in video games"

AHAHAHAHAHA ANITA SARKEESIAN, RADICAL FEMINIST

HOO HEE EXCUSE ME THAT'S A GOOD ONE

Radical feminist. Feminist extremist. Anita Sarkeesian.

Anita Sarkeesian did her Master's Thesis in Social and Political Thought in 2010 on the trope of the "Strong Woman" in fantasy and science fiction TV shows, and produced Tropes vs Women, a series of online videos breaking down her work in a way that was accessible to a lay audience. She found a ready audience in geek feminist circles, since this was exactly the kind of thing we wanted and needed right then.

Tropes vs Women was extremely bog-standard cultural critique, what you'd find expressed in discussion between scholars of literary theory or media analysis anywhere, and exactly what 99% of feminists were saying at the time. It certainly talked about patriarchy as the complex system of sexism fused into our cultural matrix, so it's not like it wasn't radical feminism from that viewpoint, but it wasn't "radical" by way of being especially militant. Sarkeesian frequently pointed out how individual occurrences of a trope weren't harmful in themselves, but that a media landscape completely saturated with only that trope and nothing but that trope is, in the aggregate, a big feminist issue.

And the internet

HAAAAAAAATED

her for it.

Like, geek feminists got flak a lot anyway, especially when we wanted things like properly enforced policies against sexual harassment at science fiction conventions. And yeah, there totally were toxic keyboard warriors who said stuff about all men being scum - but Sarkeesian wasn't one of them.

It's probably because of her succinct, matter-of-fact, "this is not a debated issue, feminists have decades of theory and research to back this point up, sources abound if you google for thirty seconds so I won't stop to baby you through all the fundamental concepts" approach that she got such a big reach. She was calm, concise, coherent, and rational, everything feminists are told we need to be.

Unfortunately that just made her seem... attackable, I think. A good target, not actually scary or impassioned, unlikely to respond to violence with violence. The perfect kind of person to play five seconds of, and then spend the next five minutes yelling into your mic because IF ANITA IS RIGHT ABOUT VIDEO GAME SEXIST YOU MIGHT AS WELL SAY THAT EVERYTHING IS SEXIST AND SEXISM IS SYSTEMIC AND ENDEMIC TO ALL OF WESTERN CULTURE AND OTHER CULTURES TOO, WHICH IS CLEARLY RIDICULOUS, ANITA LADY BAD.

She literally spent five solid years as Enemy #1 in online geek spaces. It was completely insane. I am so sorry she had to take the brunt of it, and yet grateful that she did. She held the line and took the shit and kept doing good decent feminist work for years after, though she did admit to burnout and closed up shop on her nonprofit org Feminist Frequency in 2023. I hope to hell she's having a good day.

But even now, more than a decade later, dudes talk about her as though she were Geek Feminist Godzilla, the biggest baddest woman in the universe, off to lay waste to downtown Video Games and cut everybody's balls off.

When people (mostly dudes, but not all) talk like this, it's just very funny and unintentionally revealing because of the absolute averageness of her third-wave, trans-inclusive, western-centric, intersectional feminism. It makes them look absolutely pathetic.

Because it just makes it clear that she is probably the first and last self-described feminist the speaker has ever paid attention to.

[malusokay]

Little things that improved my life 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Accepting my sleep schedule. I'm a night owl; I focus at night, I'm calm at night, I'm motivated at night. For a long time, I tried to fight this since everyone always preaches getting up early, but since I started accepting my natural sleep schedule, I've been feeling a lot better and have become way more productive.

"drink more water". TEA. Tea is the secret here. I will be honest, I hate drinking water; it doesn't matter if I have a cute water bottle or a cute glass, I still hate it. TEA.

Replying quickly. I used to be one of those people who get a text message and think, "Oh, I'll reply to that later", and then just forget about it entirely. Now, I text back as soon as I see the message. This has not only improved my texting anxiety (which I cause on my own by now replying and then feeling bad) but also deepened my connection to my friends. <3

Keeping my circle small and being okay with that. Over the past months, I've had this sudden urge to expand my social circle and get to know more and more people, especially after I moved in August. However, this quickly ended in what I like to call my "social burnout". I was tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed. It took a few weeks for it to settle, but I've come to the conclusion that I would much rather have a smaller circle of people who I trust and love deeply than a huge group of friends, and that's totally okay.

Wearing what I like. Even though I live in a big city, I'd still say that my style can sometimes be a bit more extravagant than what most people wear, another point is that I'm very uncomfortable with pants so I only wear skirts, which is also considered a bit odd where I live. But over the past years, I've come to accept that and have become so sure of myself and found such comfort in my style that I now just wear whatever I like, and it makes every day a little bit nicer.

Reading and writing for pleasure. Reading books outside of my studies and spending time researching topics that simply interest me is such a great way to calm your mind. Same for writing, I always like to say that to write is to think; putting your thoughts on paper in cohesive and well-crafted sentences that you can then reread and think over again is such a liberating thing to do.

Reaching out more. fuck the whole "double texting" and "no contact" thing. If you want to speak to someone because they mean something to you, then just do it. Unless they specifically asked for space, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to be in touch with them. Many even really appreciate it when you show that you truly care. Let's stop the nonchalant act, and instead, let's face deep emotions and true vulnerability. <3

As always, please feel free to share your own little insights and things that helped you improve comments! <3

my insta: @ malusokay

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[dollishmehrayan]

# “I NEED YOUR LOVING, LIKE THE SUNSHINE, EVERYONE’S GOT TO LEARN SOMETIME.” ── .✦ ( batboys when they have a crush on you ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

dollish note ౨ৎ: yes this is based off that one korgis song and if you know it, your elite marry me immediately anywayss I need like more cute events to do omgg and guys I’m going to look for a new divider edition but the bunny will always stay don’t worryyy tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s so obvious. Everyone knows. Even villains probably know, even you probably know but we always play hard to get. (that’s js me sorry)

Overly casual compliments: “Wow, you look… good. Like, really good. Is that new? No? I just never noticed how great you always look??”

Purposely hangs around you way more than necessary. “Oh wow, fancy seeing you here again... at this coffee shop... at this exact time... for the fifth time this week…”, “uh.. sure okay dick.”

Gets physically flustered. You smile at him and he bumps into a wall.

Brings you little gifts like coffee, snacks, or something you mentioned once two months ago that he totally remembered.

Accidentally lets it slip to Barbara. You find out two days later because she’s evil (and supportive). GIRL BOSSSSS

RASON RODD (IF YKYK) ── .✦

Denies it to everyone. Even himself. “Me? Crushing? Pfft. Please. I'm just being nice. I’m always this nice. Shut up.”

Acts all chill and tough but turns into a sarcastic teddy bear when you're around.

Tries not to care but notices everything about you like when you’re tired, upset, or need space.

Gets really protective, then downplays it. “Yeah I threatened that guy because he was being annoying. Not because he was flirting with you. Nope.” ( our little nonchalant guy )

Will read/watch your favorite stuff in secret so he can talk about it with you, then pretends he hated it. “No, I didn’t like it. But the plot twist in episode 7 was wild. Just sayin’.”

Probably punches a wall the first time someone calls him out. Literally everyone in the family: “Just ask them out already.”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Has a million tabs open on “how to tell if someone likes you back.”

Obsesses over every text you send. Sends a reply. Deletes it. Writes a better one. Deletes that too. Eventually sends “lol yeah same” and regrets it instantly.

Runs into you and forgets how to function for 3 seconds. “Hey—hi—hey. Sorry. I mean. Hello.”

Will research your interests so he can impress you or casually bring them up. “Oh, you’re into ___? I read a couple papers about that, super cool stuff.”

Accidentally calls you “cute” in passing, then vanishes for two days to a point you wonder if he might appear on the missing website thing.

You find out he has a playlist called “maybe someday” and the first song is something painfully romantic.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Pretends he doesn’t like you. Like, aggressively. But it’s so obvious.

Gives you weirdly thoughtful gifts and says things like, “I noticed you were using inferior supplies.”

Blushes if you compliment him. Denies he’s blushing. “Tt. The temperature is simply warm.”

Subtly changes his schedule to be around you more. He’ll be in the library when you’re there, in the gym at the same time it’s definitely not a coincidence (even though he insists it is).

Draws you. Like, sketches. Constantly. Says it’s “for anatomy practice.”

Acts annoyed when you talk to someone else, then pouts in a corner like a feral cat.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

He doesn’t even realize it at first. It hits him out of nowhere, like genuinely out of thin air.

Brooding increases by 200%. He stares off into space, thinking about you, and Alfred has to snap him out of it.

Becomes awkwardly formal. “Would you… perhaps… like to join me for dinner? I understand if that’s… inconvenient.” ( like despite being a former player and all and smoothhh as hell when he genuinely likes someone he can’t be smooth, your like his Andrea beaumont but if they worked out )

Totally asks Alfred for advice. Alfred gives him the same advice he gave him at 16.

When you smile at him, he short-circuits a little. You get a rare, soft Bat-smile in return.

Once he’s sure of his feelings, he’s all in but oh boy, it takes a while.

[sunseed-fandump]

If events in the Silver Kingdom happen, where do they play? Did they sneak into Pure Vanilla Cookie's flying boat to Beast Yeast?

I have a feeling SMilk is gonna be playing hard mode on the trio's anxieties and trauma.

I'm not 100% certain how certain parts of the Silver Kingdom Episodes would play out, but they definitely snuck onto Pure Vanilla's Air Ship in an attempt to catch him alone and to snatch the Soul Jam. But then the ship gets attacked and they crash land.

PV manages to convince the kids that it would be the best survival method to stick together. After all, this is unfamiliar territory with even more unfamiliar dangers. Pure Vanilla would appreciate the back-up they could provide, and he's sure they would appreciate a Healer in case things start going south.

Besides, if they stay close to him, then it just gives them more opportunities to take his Soul Jam and run once they have a safe way back to Crispia.

(Really though, he just wants them to stay close so he can lend a hand if they need it.)

They weren't totally convinced at first, but then the Light of Freedom reached out to PV and he began finding and piecing its fragments back together. With the possibility of getting TWO Soul Jams for the price of taking down One Ancient, the kids decided to comply with a temporary truce.

They were not thrilled about the Faeries turning out to be servants of the Witches. As a result they were very tense during their meeting with Elder Faerie Cookie. Though he didn't regard them with any hostility, they still felt uneasy about him.

They also weren't too thrilled about the idea of White Lily Cookie still somehow existing. I don't think she and Gingerbrave would have the talk they had in Canon. At least, they won't have a conversation like that yet. Maybe later.

The story about the Beasts wasn't as much of a surprise to them, considering Wild Strawberry's knowledge of other timelines and Wizard's extensive research. They were surprised however, by seeing how powerful one Beast was first hand. Second-hand accounts and ancient history doesn't really put that level of devastating power into perspective.

As for the events after the Silver Kingdom. The Kids decide not to stick around the Faerie Kingdom. They vanish after the seal gets repaired by White Lily, causing Pure Vanilla some distress.

I can't imagine they'd feel comfortable hanging around a witch-worshipping kingdom for any longer than they have to. Besides, with White Lily revived, that means they'd have to fight Two Ancients for those Soul Jams. The three of them working together can barely keep up with one Ancient as is, so having to try to fight two at the same time? Too much of a risk.

Better to back off and set up a new plan of action, than sticking around and risk getting crumbled or winding up on a Witch's plate.

[lostinlovingrevery]

"You know how animals have displays to attract mates? Logan is no different. When hes in the mood, hell puff himself out to you, do things he thinks youll like. I mean, i suppose avg males do this too but logan gets repetitive over it until you notice. "

This is too cute 🥹 Could I maybe request a drabble based off this? (Sorry if you already got a message similar to this, my wifi is being weird and I can't tell if it actually sent lol)

A/N: Thank you for this ask!! Aren't drabbles supposed to be 100 words? IDK, but this is more of cute fanfic with 1400+ word count! I hope this is what you wanted!

I imagined a F!Reader but I didn't use any pronouns or describe readers body so it could be GN!

I pictured trilogy! Logan too bc I felt like he was the one most likely to act like this honestly LOL. I tried to use the 4 things you'd see when it comes to mating displays - Looks, Strength, Food, and Gifts. (I just kept picturing him like those birds from birds of paradise video)

Courtship Rituals

Warnings: Just Logan being needy ;), Suggestive ending ;) ;)

It’s been an extremely busy day. 

Aside from the meetings, the classes, chores, and various other activities that had taken up the schedule, it left little time for you to be with Logan. 

Which he was totally fine with by the way. He knew you were busy. 

Still, he’d stop by your study. “You done yet bub?” he’d ask, as he put his palms on your desk, seemingly puffing out his chest, the muscles of his arms bulging out as if he were flexing them. It was hard for you to not get distracted by him, especially since he was wearing a white t-shirt that fit very tightly around his torso; You swore you could make out his pecs through them. He actually looked really good since you’ve seen him early this morning- still asleep in bed. His hair looked especially good today, and he trimmed his beard to look a little neater. Not to mention he had on those jeans that fit his ass snuggly - the ones that you can never stop staring at. 

God he’s so hot

You couldn’t allow yourself to be distracted though- Charles absolutely needed you to finish some research by tonight, so you couldn’t stop. 

“Sorry baby,” You said sympathetically, “It’s gonna be a bit. I’m busy today y’know?” 

You felt so guilty the way he visibly deflated, you reached out to grab his hand. “Later, ok?” You kissed the space between his knuckles, and he forced a smile, before leaving you alone to do your work. 

Later you were in your classroom, getting things set up and preparing for your next class as you write your lesson plan on the chalkboard, you happened to turn your head to the window- where Logan was conveniently outside your classroom window in the yard, working out with nothing but his sweatpants on and his shirt off. You could see the sweat glistening off his skin, once again- you felt an incredible urge to go be with him, but you couldn’t- since your next class is in 20 minutes. 

You went to the window and watched him, where he spotted you eventually after he finished doing a set of pushups- you lost count at 50. He greeted you with a small wave of his hand, a smirk plastered on his face. You gave him a polite wave back, and blew a kiss to him. He waved for you to come out, but you shook your head- tapping your wrists and pointing to the classroom with your thumb. He shrugged, and nodded understandingly- but deflated once again. 

During lunch, you stopped into the kitchen to grab something to eat, finding Logan in there already. He looked up at the sound of you entering, and smiled. 

“Was just about to get you. Made you lunch.” He says, turning around and presenting the plate- one of your favorite lunches. Grilled cheese (Extra cheesy of course with 3 different types of cheeses) Homemade fries with sea salt, and a small cup of tomato soup. Your stomach growled loudly.

“Lo!” You smiled taking the plate, “That’s so sweet, thank you-” You reached down to take a bite of a fry, your eyes rolled back and groaned dramatically. “Oh that’s SO good.” You reached up to peck him on the lips, as he smiled proudly down at you. He figured, if his impressive muscles and body weren’t enough to sway you away from your work - then this would.

The way to anyone's heart - food. 

“You done for the day? Maybe we could spend some time-”

“Professor!” 

The sound of Rogues voice came into the room, distracting you and Logan. “Hi, sorry- you said you would help me out with my science project?” She asks you, you swallowed your fry and nodded. 

“I did, just give me a moment-” You inform her, turning back to Logan who’s deadpan expression made you want to laugh. “Sorry sweetheart, later?” You ask, pecking his lips again with a loud smooch.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods, his very best to not show his disappointment, watching you walk away with Rogue- and the plate of food in your hands. 

You were talking to Jean in the hall, complaining about all the work you had to do. Some of it your fault- stuff you had been procrastinating, but some of it just piled on suddenly. Not to mention it was your turn on the roster to cook everyone dinner, and you had tons of laundry to do- another thing you put off. 

Logan came around the corner, his arm sliding across your waist as he kissed your cheek. “Hey sweetheart.” He says lowly to you in that deep timber voice that drives you crazy- and he knows it too. He gave a courteous nod to Jean. 

“What you got there Logan?” Jean asks, noticing he was holding something behind his back. He pulled his arm from his back, revealing to you a bouquet of wildflowers. You gasped.

“Lo, these are beautiful!” You smiled taking them. Jean chuckled, 

“I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.” She teased, turning and walking away, leaving you and Logan alone. He braced an elbow against the wall looking down at you as you admired and sniffed the wildflowers. 

“Thought you’d like them.” He says. You beamed up at him, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I was thinking…” His other hand went to your hip, as he straightened his back out- practically towering over you. “If you got some free time now we should-”

“Hey! You busy?” Scott interrupted, pointing at you, then noticing the flowers, and Logans demeanor over you. Not to mention the absolute scowl Logan was giving him. “Uh, nevermind-”

You laughed, playfully hitting Logans arm. “What do you need Scott?” 

Logan let out an exasperated sigh. He loved you, but boy do you always jump at the chance to help someone out… Guess that’s why he loved you. You were always great at lending a hand. You, however, have been terrible at picking up signals. He dropped his arm from the wall, stepping back to give you space. Tuning Scotts annoying voice out and looking down at you with adoration. It wasn’t just the sex that he was wanting- he was just feeling needy for you today, but you were too busy and had a lot on your plate.

He took the bouquet from you, telling you he’ll put them in a vase while Scott stole you away from him. Rejected twice, and stolen away from him twice. It did not boost his ego. 

Finally, the evening came, and you were in bed, relaxing with a book. You had changed out of your clothes and into Logan's shirt, while Logan was in the shower, the steam and scent of soap wafting through the bathroom door of your shared bedroom. You heard the tap turn off, and you closed your book, setting it on your bedside table- next to the vase of flowers he got you- as you waited for him. 

He came out, towel wrapped low on his hips, droplets of water dripping down his hairy chest and torso, and he looked surprised to see you in bed. “Oh, hey.” He greets. “Didn’t know you when you’d be back.” He mutters under his breath.

“Came in just as you got in the shower.” You smiled, tilting your head and crossing your arms, noticing his slight attitude. He nodded, turning to pull out some clothes. “Logan.” You called out, and he turned his head. You brought your hand up and beckoned him with your finger. 

His grumpy face disappeared and he smiled, turning back to you and walking to the bed, dropping the towel to the floor as he kneeled onto the bed and climbed between your legs, his arms wrapping around your waist and upper back. 

You brought your hands up into his hair, intertwining your fingers through the wet locks and you giggled. “You were missing me today weren’t you?” You smiled. His expression went soft, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips upturned to a small smile. 

“Yeah. I was.” He says softly. 

“You were like a peacock. You were totally strutting your stuff around me.” You teased. He rolled his eyes. 

“Didn’t work clearly.” He mutters. 

“So you admit it!” You laughed. “Cause since when did you work out outside my classroom window?”

A deep blush came across his face as he became embarrassed, looking away, before looking up at you with big pleading eyes. You hummed, leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss that he quickly deepened, pressing himself deeper against your body.

Parting with a gasp, you ran your thumb across his cheek. “For the record, I missed you too.”

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

You better make it soon before you break my heart

(Sam Winchester x female reader)

Summary You and Sam get drunk together and Dean plays cupid. CWs Drunk Sam. Margaritas. Crushes. Flirting. Drunk dancing. Dean being a good brother. First kiss. Rated Teen. 3.3k words.

Sam Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

“What do you think would happen if we started adding margaritas into this?” you ask, already struggling with the word margarita.

“I think—I think that we would probably die,” Sam says.

“Pff,” you say. “Don’t be a baby, Winchester. You can’t live life one foot in, one foot out.”

You’re not totally sure what you mean, but it sounds good. Sam blinks at you, narrows his eyes, making him look more drunk that he already does, with those slightly flushed cheeks and the way his usually so controlled movements are now all over the place.

He looks so good that it almost sobers you up, so you take another big sip of your drink to make sure that doesn’t happen.

You make a face at the strong whiskey taste. You want something nicer, something sweeter. Like Sam? your brain, the mischievous asshole, adds.

Yes, like Sam. Exactly like Sam.

He speaks, breaking you out of your little daydream. “If we drink margaritas now, the only thing we’ll be half foot in is the emergency room.”

It takes you a second and then you chuckle. It’s clever. Sam’s clever.

You lean forward on the table and maybe stare at him a little too intently. He catches your eye, and then looks away quickly. “You’re funny, Sam,” you say, still looking at him. He has the audacity to blush a little, shrugs those big, broad man shoulders of his.

You want to say more. You want to say that he’s beautiful and kind and sweet and so smart and that sometimes he makes you feel like you’re floating, like a cartoon character that’s smelling a pie.

Luckily just then, the waitress comes over. “Can I get you two anything else?” she says, and you throw Sam a look, wiggle your eyebrows.

He sighs, defeated, and orders two margaritas.

Dean finds you about an hour later. You and Sam aren’t sloppy drunk but definitely giggly drunk. You are holding on to your half empty glass and leaning to the side because Sam has said something so adorable and goofy that you are now laughing so hard it hurts your ribs.

Sam is laughing too, a little bashful but then it’s turning into real, actual laughter and it’s the most wonderful sound in the world. It’s so rare to hear him like that. Too rare.

Dean walks up to the table like an annoyed parent who has to pick up his kid from a sleepover because they ate too much candy and then barfed everywhere.

Sam sees him a second later, nods at him, but even though you both sort of recover you’re still giggling.

“How’d it go?” Sam asks, and he’s definitely slurring a little bit, the grin on his face wide.

You want to kiss it. The face and the grin.

Dean sits down, eyeing you both a little suspiciously.  “It was fine,” he says, “but the county sheriff is pretty useless. I think he’s a drunk. But then,” he makes a sarcastic face, “looks like he’s not alone in that.”

You know he’s just trying to be a reasonable but you don’t need this buzz kill right now. You can already see Sam starting to feel bad that he was out having fun while Dean was working, but that only happened because Sam finished his research so fast and Dean was slow, because he was busy flirting with that one witness at the station.

No, you’re not gonna let him suck the fun out of tonight.

“Boooh,” you say then push your glass towards him. “Drink and be merry, Dean,” you say and Sam chuckles.

Dean looks down at the drink, a little disgusted. “It has a salted rim,” you say to him, cocking your head. “You loooove that.”

Sam bursts out laughing. You’re not even sure what you said and then you realize the double meaning. Oopsie. But Sam’s laugh is so infectious that you just go along with it.

Dean rolls his eyes pointedly. To make up for it, you raise your arm, wave over the waitress. She joins you, Dean turning around to give her an appreciative look.

“Hi there,” you say, as if you are talking to her for the first time tonight. “Could you please get my friend here the most boring, adult drink you have, please?” you ask her.

Dean smiles at her, already flirting. “Whiskey neat is fine. And I wouldn't mind getting your number as well.”

You look over at Sam, who widens his eyes, looks at you. You’re both used to Dean flirting shamelessly, but that’s fast, even for him.

The waitress returns the smile, checks him out a little. “Coming up,” she says, walks away, looking back to make sure Dean is looking after her. He is, of course.

“Jeez,” you mumble, “get a room.” Dean turns back, looks at you.

“Look who’s talking,” he says and you can feel the violent blush in your face. You hope it’s not as visible under the dimmed light of the bar as it feels, but you can’t be sure.

Dean is kind enough to change the topic, starts talking more about the sheriff and the lack of information he found. You take your drink back from him, taking a big sip and chance a look at Sam. It looks like he didn’t notice. Thank God.

Dean doesn’t officially know about your crush on Sam, but he’s not an idiot, as much as he might sometimes act like one. He doesn’t miss the longing looks you throw his younger brother, how you react like you’re stung by a jellyfish every time Sam touches you, or how once, when a witness was throwing herself at him and Sam didn’t seem totally disinterested, you might have snuck to the bathroom to sniffle a little.

Sam on the other hand seems completely oblivious, which is good and bad at the same time. Good because you’re pretty sure if he were to find out and not feel the same way about you the embarrassment would kill you on the spot. Bad because on the off chance that he does like you that way, he sure as hell isn’t going to be making the first step, not if he’s not absolutely sure you like him back. And you would never tell him because, well, all of the above. Which means it’s unlikely that anything will come of it.

So you drink and talk and geek together, sharing secrets and talking about things you’ve never talked to anyone else about, and you’re pretty sure neither has Sam. And you don’t cuddle or kiss or touch or do any of the other things you would like to do with Sam. No, sir.

You all finish your drinks, Dean scores the waitress’s number and then you’re stepping out into the warm summer evening.

You get into the Impala, you climb into the back without breaking your neck, and Dean starts driving you back to the motel.

Sam plays around with the radio until he finds a station, while you roll down one of the back windows.

“Are you gonna be sick?” Dean asks, glaring at you in the rearview mirror.

“Noo, just like the air, air’s nice,” you say, leaning your head so the night air is hitting your face. It feels amazing, and just when you think you probably can’t feel any better, the station Sam found starts playing Fleetwood Mac.

“Hell yeah,” you say, raising both hands over your head, crossing them there. You hum along, watch the dark country roads go by.

After a minute you look forward again, just to see Sam’s head turning away quickly. Did you just catch him look at you? No, surely not?

You sink a little deeper into the seat.

It doesn’t take long after that to arrive at the motel. You get out, swaying a little. The three of you start walking towards your room, when Dean suddenly stops in his tracks. He licks his lip, then half turns back to the car.

“Actually, I think I left that waitress's number at the bar,” he says. No, he didn’t. You saw him pocket it when you walked out.

You’re about to say exactly that, when he throws Sam the room keys in a high arch. Sam doesn’t catch them, has to bend down to pick them up, and for a second you think he’ll topple. You lay a hand on his arm, which is probably not very helpful, but it’s an excuse to touch him.

“Gotta go back,” Dean says, shrugging, a bit of a grin on his face.

“Dean,” you start, then hiccup a little, and continue. “I’m sure you’ll score another number in the next town.”

But Dean’s already on his way back to the Impala. He turns around as he's about to get in, and now he's full on grinning. "Yeah," he says, "but she could be the one. Gotta be sure. You have to be brave to find love." And then he winks at you and a second later, you and Sam are standing in a whirl of dust left behind by the Impala. 

Sam waves his hand in front of his face, coughing a little. Meanwhile you are trying not to scream.

What the hell did Dean mean by that? Brave to find love? You turn to Sam, the internal screaming momentarily under control.

Sam looks down at you. He has the cutest little pout on him. "Inside?" he asks, like it's a full sentence. You nod. Inside.

The walk to the room is short but it allows you to think about what Dean was insinuating. 

It would be cruel, what he's suggesting, if he doesn't at least think there's a chance that Sam likes you back, and Dean is many things, but he is not cruel. At least not normally. That means that he knows something, or suspects something. 

Your head is spinning and it's not just from the alcohol. Suddenly you're terrified. 

You make it to the room, and Sam unlocks it. It only takes him three tries. He's so graceful. 

You are leaning against the door frame while he wrangles the door. When it swings open, he looks at you, all proud smiles. Despite your nervousness, you smile back, slap his arm. 

"You are, like, a master at opening doors. Amazing form. Ten points."

He nods. "I do unlock a lot of doors," he says, and then holds his arm out to signal for you to go in before him.

You do, walk in, and then, because suddenly you don't know what to do and you're hyper aware of the situation, you just kind of stand there in the middle of the room. 

Sam walk in behind you, throwing closed the door behind him and plops down on the bed, face first.

You turn to him and it gives you too good of a view of his body, so you mumble "gotta use the bathroom," and rush off.

You close the door behind you and sit on the closed toilet seat. Okay. Breath.

There's no reason to be nervous. You are alone with Sam, which you have been a million times. You are drunk with Sam, alone, and it's not a big deal.

Except that Dean said that stuff about having to be brave to find love. Did he mean you need to be brave to find love? Did he mean with Sam? Or was he just talking out of his ass and your drunk brain is cooking something up that's not really there?

You sigh. Goddamn, this is really killing your buzz. It's fine. It's better to not do anything you might regret. Tomorrow, when you're sobered up and hungover, you can go back to interpreting Dean's cryptic messages. But tonight you just want to have fun, just for a little longer.

You walk out and Sam's still lying on the bed. You think he might be passed out for a second, but then he raises one hand where it's lying on the bed next to him, giving a thumbs up. "All good," he says, not opening his eyes. "Jus' resting my face."

You can't help but chuckle at that and all the lovey dovey feelings come rushing back, replacing your anxiety. You just want to have a fun drunk night with Sam. If nothing else ever comes of it, you're still damn lucky.

So, to rally the troops, you take out your phone, turn the sound all the way up, and start playing the song you heard in the car, "Everywhere". It starts with that weird tingly noise, and you use that time to walk over to Sam, kicking off your shoes without any major mishaps, and then lean on his back with both arms, and shake him a little.

He makes a noise that's a mixture of a grunt and something you've only ever heard donkeys make.

"No shaking, please," he says, frowning. 

"Then get up," you say. "You get up, and no more shaking." 

The song starts properly now and you start dancing a little, because it's just too good. Sam finally gets up, kind of. He turns around, leaning up on one elbow.

"Come on, Sam," you say. "Let's dance the drunk out."

He laughs, even though he still looks sleepy. And then he watches you for a moment, and his face becomes incredibly serious. 

You stop your dancing. "What?" you ask, and you think he's going to say something horrible. 

"Nothin'," he says, and his voice is kind of quiet. "You're just pretty."

A not entirely unpleasant shock goes through you. Pretty.

You try to recover, wave him off. "You're very drunk, Sam," you say and then, because you think if he looks at you for a second longer you'll burst into flames, you jump on the bed without warning.

He ducks his head, scoots out of the way so he doesn't get trampled. You start bouncing on the bed to the beat of the music, doing something with your arms, you're not even sure what. 

You sing along loudly to the "I want to be with you everywhere," and the meaning of the words doesn't really reach your brain, because you point at Sam while singing them. It's just your entertainer persona, or what some people would call very limited dance moves, that makes you point at him. 

You pull your arm back immediately. Yikes. To cover, you pretend you were just trying to get Sam to dance. "Come on, get up, we are not losing to margaritas! We're stronger than that!"

Sam actually gets up then, and while what he does can't really be called dancing, he is at least moving his body.

You woohoo in his direction, and pick up your own dancing again. Then you make the mistake of trying to take a step to the side, forgetting that you are not on solid ground, but on a cheap motel bed. You foot gets tangled in the thin comforter.

You're gonna fall off this bed and break your neck, you just know it.

But you don't, because there's Sam. He's stepped closer to the bed and is holding you by the waist. You don't fall. You don't die.

You're on the bed and he's standing on the floor, so you're half a head taller than him currently. You're also really, really close to him, and oh yeah, there's the whole hands-on-waist thing.

You swallow. "Thanks," you say, but it comes out quiet and a little cracked. Sam smiles up at you, a little unsure. He could let you go now, but he doesn't. He keeps holding you.

Your brain is desperately trying to find something to say, something to make this not awkward, something to make you stop thinking about Sam's lips so close to yours, the beauty mark next to his nose that you want to touch, his smell, his big hands on you.

What you come up with is this: "Gee, I really get this whole being tall thing now. It's nice." It's one of the more stupid things you've said, but Sam still smiles at it.

"Has its advantages," he says, and then he's looking into your eyes and you're looking into his.

Sam's breathing a little harder. You lean in a little closer because he is so damn magnetic. Somewhere far away the song is starting over.

He clears his throat. "I really want to kiss you," he says.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph and David Bowie. 

"I want you to want to kiss me," you reply, and you have just enough working brain cells left to correct yourself. "I want you to kiss me."

He nods. Then suddenly he looks unsure. "But," he says, and you think no, no buts, no buts please, I will start an anti-buts movement, before he continues: "I don't want it to, you know, be like this, I think. I don't want us to regret it in the morning. Or forget it."

"I won't regret it," you say, maybe a little too fast. "And I don't think I'll forget it, either." Because how could you? How could you forget something like that?

Sam nods again, still looking into your eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Super sure," you say, nodding as well. And then, because sometimes your brain does come up with good ideas, you add: "Plus, we could just kiss again tomorrow. That way we won't forget what it's like."

Now Sam is grinning, and from this close it's even better, even more breathtaking. It shows off his dimples and because you're already in too deep, you move your hands up, one landing on his shoulder, one on his cheek, your thumb close to that little valley in his face that shows up when he's happy.

"Okay," Sam says, and you say it as well.

And then he is pulling you in, very, very slowly, like he's expecting you to change your mind halfway in. 

You lick your lips, just a little, because you realize your mouth has gone incredibly dry. 

And then you're kissing Sam. His eyes close and so do yours. His lips are soft and there's still a hint of salt on them from the drinks. It's perfect.

Your heart is beating so hard than you're sure he must hear it. His one hand leaves your waist, and his arm goes around you, holds you there. 

You take your one hand off his shoulder and cup his face with that one as well, because you've never gotten to touch his face like that before.

Sam breaks the kiss, eventually. Your eyes stay closed and it's a good thing he's holding you. You might fall off the bed otherwise anyway, margaritas or no margaritas.

You can tell he's looking at you, so you blink your eyes open. He has a slight smile on his face.

"Can I kiss you again?" he asks. You don't bother saying yes. You pull his face close to yours and do it.

This kiss is a little different. Where the first one was soft and sweet and careful, this one feels a little more raunchy. Sam's breathing out through his nose as if to contain himself, and it's so goddamn sexy. He's pulling you closer and you're pulling him closer, and then suddenly your tongues are meeting and you actually moan a little. You can feel him smile at that. Yeah, you won't forget that.

And then you can hear the Impala pulling up outside. Looks like Dean struck out.

Sam unleashes your lips and you lean down, lay your forehead against his. His hand goes up and strokes your cheek. 

"Tomorrow?" he asks, and you nod against him. "Tomorrow." 

You're not sure what it means, but it's a promise. A promise you're happy to keep.

I want to be with you everywhere, Christine McVie sings and you couldn't agree more.

[glamourscat]

VANITAS x !VAMPIRE READER HCS

i am one day late but hbd to my fav non vamp that looks and acts more like a vamp than the vamps in his own show

• absolutely HATED that you were another vampire hanging around noè at first. "oh merveilleux, another bloodsucker with a hero complex"

• gets increasingly irritated that you can see right through his act sometimes. you'll just give him this knowing look when he's being particularly dramatic and he DESPISES it (but also kind of doesn't?)

• if you have some kind of “power” like noè does, he will be secretly fascinated by how different you are from other vampires he's met. keeps trying to study you "for research" but really he's just making excuses to be around you

• absolutely loses it when you team up with noè to mother-hen him about his health. "i don't need TWO vampires telling me to sleep!"

• loves riling you up just to see your eyes flash red. will make increasingly outrageous statements just to get a reaction

• gets weirdly quiet when you talk about your childhood with noè. definitely not jealous. nope. not at all. (he's totally jealous)

• gets VERY flustered when you use your vampire strength to pick him up or protect him, but tries to play it off with his usual dramatics

• absolutely despises how you can tell when he's actually hurt vs when he's being dramatic. "stop looking at me like that, i'm FINE"

• has definitely stayed up all night reading your name in the blue moon records multiple times, but will never admit it

• gets oddly soft when you fall asleep near him during research sessions, but will immediately return to his usual self if anyone catches him looking

• Will subtly, or not so subtly, hint at you to drink his blood more than once. and when you do it? Well let’s just say if you two are a match, he won’t be quiet lmao

• noè finds your whole dynamic hilarious and keeps "accidentally" leaving you two alone together

BLURB UNDER THE CUT

The first time you met Vanitas, you'd nearly thrown him out a window.

"Noè," you'd said, holding the struggling human by his collar, "why is there a suspicious man with your book?"

"Put me down this instant, you bloodsucking menace!" The dark-haired man had thrashed in your grip, blue eyes flashing with indignation. "I am the great Vanitas, and that book is rightfully mine!"

You'd turned to Noè, unimpressed. "Can I throw him out the window?"

"Please don't throw my friend out the window, mon amie," Noè had laughed, looking far too amused. "He really is the owner of that book, the book of Vanitas."

You looked at Noè, eyebrow up. Looking between him and the short human. Book of vanitas. But that’s the blue moon vampire. This guy looks everything but a vampire.

Eventually, you set him down. Rather gently, all things considered.

"Your concern for my wellbeing is touching," Vanitas had said sarcastically , straightening his clothes with exaggerated care. "Tell me, do all vampire childhood friends of Noè's manhandle innocent humans, or am I just special?"

"Only the suspicious ones who smell like lies and… cheap cologne."

His eye had twitched. "Charming. Noè, you didn't tell me your friend was so... direct."

"(Y/N) has always been rather protective," Noè had smiled that knowing smile of his. "You two will get along splendidly."

You'd both turned to him with identical looks of horror.

"We absolutely will not—"

"I'd rather drink holy water—"

But Noè had just kept smiling, and somehow... somehow he'd been right. Though you'd both rather die than admit it.

Even now, months later, as you watched Vanitas patch you up, while complaining under his breath something along the lines of "ungrateful bloodsucker," you couldn't help but smile amused. He caught your stare and scowled.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," you said innocently. "Just admiring your terrible manners."

"I could let you bleed out next time, you know."

"No, you couldn't."

His scowl deepened because you were right. You were always right about him and he hated it. Or maybe not. But you didn’t had to know that.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[animatewarriorcats]

Stoatfur! This description got long so here's the character part. Stoatfur has no living relatives, he was not originally listed in the Allegiances of the Last Hope, so we don't know who his mentor specifically is, but it was likely one of the four cats he was on a patrol with during a scene when Lionblaze picks a fight with Ratscar to prove he can change his destiny to Cinderheart by losing a fight, so either Ratscar, Smokefoot, Dawnpelt, or Olivenose. It does seem it was meant to be Ratscar though, as Stoatpaw is seen on a messenger patrol with Ratscar again later. He is also seen in the final battle, as a messenger seeking help for Shadowclan. She appears again in bramblestar's storm during the fight against the badgers, and on a patrol later on in the book.

I have to admit I didn't notice Stoatfur on my first reading of The Last Hope and Bramblestar's Storm, but they are a pretty interesting cat. As Stoatpaw he is described as a ginger and white tom in The Last Hope, but as Stoatfur she is described as a tortie and white she-cat in Bramblestar's Storm. plus to make the change more interesting, in their other two allegiances descriptions, the descriptions are tied-one each-and out of order chronologically and according to publish date, so while it would be totally valid and very cool to see Stoatfur as a canon trans femme cat, I think the story could also be more complicated as they are described as ginger tom, tortie she-cat, tortie she-cat, ginger tom in order. Maybe Stoatfur is bi-gender, maybe Stoatfur is fluid, maybe stoatfur does whatever the hell Stoatfur likes. I'm here for every headcanon. As result of this I debated how to depict Stoatfur, as I've been leaning into the weird british shorthair genetics for Shadowclan I spent a considerable amount of time researching what a golden tortoiseshell might look like, as I felt like the ticked golden tabbies are closest to the warm summer coat of a stoat, with the red coat and darker tipped tail feet and face markings. I don't think I totally know whether I want them to be a ticked tortie for animation reasons, but I know I wanted to present it as an option (shoutout to the design I saw where she transistioned and dyes her fur with mud to be a tortie). Either way as I was doing the research I found its actually Really Hard to find and identify golden tabby tortoiseshells, partly because most people interested in the golden genes are because of the effect it has on non-red cats thus excluding red genes and torties for the most part, but also because when you push the black tip of the tabby pattern all the way out of the hair with the golden wide band genes it all starts to look really ginger. Here is a smattering of golden torties (and one silver shaded/ticked tortie for comparison) for your viewing pleasure:

[newkatzkafe2023]

I'm very liked the idea of a selkie fem reader, (in one of your previous posts) and I would be curious to know how events would have unfolded if the Monkey Kings and the Destined One was a yandere, especially considering that in the original scenario their actions were already questionable (with hiding the reader's sealskin)

Ok First Yandere of the month let's do this🥰

(Lmk Wukong) Squealed so hard he could have died, with how he saw you innocently bouncing across the beach. Wukong was immediately smitten and cooed and cuddle a confused looking you, He would gush over you and spoil you with treats and cuddles your bright eyes looking at everything in wonder. Wukong after looking through a bunch of scrolls learned about your species and how to keep you around. Wukong used your love of water against you as he stripped you of your skin, while you played in a kitty pool but when it's time for you to go home. You couldn't find your skin anywhere you squealed and looked around, Wukong gave you a shoulder shrug as he didn't know where your skin was either. You had stayed in that kitty pool being alot more quiet then before, though Wukong would find ways to cheer you up, despite having your skin under lock and key in his horder stash.

(HIB Wukong) He at first thought he was on a state of madness when he saw a chubby monkey seal hybrid bounce across the beach he went to, but here we are. Though you had shown to be friendly, social, and rather childish, he still wasn't sure what your aim was. Though you both share a love of fried fish, he felt your chubby thighs and tummy flip a switch in his brain. He had to find a way to keep you around, so after doing some research on you and your folklore species, he stole your skin and kelp it hidden ever since having it locked away. A year later, you had a bunch cubs with Wukong, but you don't pay attention to much anymore, often missing the water as your husband Wukong would try to distract you with fish, family, and fun.

(NR Wukong) THEIR'S A HOT DUMMY THICC LADY LEFT UNSUPERVISED ON THE BEACH, MUST BE HIS LUCKY DAY🥵🤤😍!!!!!!! Wukong became a Heat seeking missile when he headed off to woo you. You were eating some fish when you noticed a monkey coming over chirping at you, which made you have a cute confused look on your face. Wukong would come by everyday to woo you with treats, and cuddles he was warm and soft and made you smile. Wukong also took this time to learn about you and your Species, and use that knowledge not only to woo you but against you. Wukong was able to hide your skin before having a rather steaming night with you. When you tried to find your skin the next morning, you found that it was totally missing and what's worse Wukong behaved like he was confused as well. Since then you lived with Wukong but had became Withdrawn from him drinking funny drinks and missing your home, and whenever he pulled you out of your newfound shell, you would go back at the end of the day. Wukong hopes this won't affect your marriage together.

(MKR Wukong) He had a mini heart attack at your appearance and cheery behavior as you bounced adorably after him. Wukong had felt serious protective over you and would savagely attack or kill anything or anyone who could be a threat to you. You were so chubby and adorable, and you had become sort of a mother figure for fruity. When Wukong noticed that's when he made the decision to keep you on land with him forever, and learning about your kind from the monkey he decided to take your skin and hid it in pigsy's stuff until he got back from flower fruit mountain. Ever since you found that you can't get back home, you had become rather aggressive and irritable, often biting Sandy, pigsy and sometimes the monk. Wukong only hopes you would lighten up when you both start your married life together.

(Netflix Wukong) You were the most interesting creature he's ever come across. You were an adorable monkey seal hybrid that bounced around with shiny happy eyes, and Wukong admittedly gushed over you. He had absolutely no clue on what you were until dragons king took it upon himself to tell him that your a selkie. When he asked around his village for more info he used it to better his relationship with you, and make you happy to spend time with him. He would even show off to you especially in power and strength but soon you would have to go back to the water. Fearing of being alone again he found out that in order to keep you around, he took your skin and hid it in Lin's house. You looked everywhere for it but it never turned up, so when Wukong had you guys get married. You had become irritated and harsh with the presence others and would start ignore them. Wukong always works to brighten your day until you bit him when he got annoying.

(Oh boi☹️)

(BMW Wukong) He immediately likes you and definitely wants you, you were just so cute minding your damn businesse all by yourself. You just so cute and Wukong flew over chirping at you while you squeak back at him and it was love at first sight. Wukong would go and comeback with bigger and better fish for you to eat, while you would show him shells and other idems you found. Wukong knew you would have to go back to the water upon learning about your species, so learning that you can't go to the water without your skin he took it away and left it to be hidden by his kin. After seeing that you couldn't find your skin or return home, you had become a bit of a recluse often sleeping and eating alone and whenever Wukong noticed he would go to woo you until you pay attention to him again.

(Destined one) He's the one I definitely feel would know what you are in advance already. I mean he's ran into some really unusual creatures but he doesn't know any that is as cute as you, squeaking at him inviting him to play with you. You were oddly friendly and the destined one was immediately worried that you would be taken advantage of, so he made sure to protect you. You would often snuggle and Eskimo kiss him as you had grown accustomed to his face, until one day you had disappeared for a while. Making the destined one extremely worried and after about a mouth you can back from visiting your underwater troop for feeding season. The Destined one Tackled and hugged you as you Squeak and lick him, He never wanted to experience that again.So he took your skin away for safe keeping. He wouldn't give it back no matter how much you begged, or pleaded, or cried out to him the destined one wouldn't say a word about your skin. So you both got married(woooo😒) you had become quiet since then not showing to much enthusiasm in anything, and just went with whatever D.O wanted. He had made sure to keep an eye on your mental health as well🤕😥.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[kikitakite]

I saw your callout in the Gale tag for that one user (no comment on them, tho ty for the callout bc i'd seen them in the notes of my fics) and was curious if you could elaborate on some of the Mystra incidents you described towards the end of the post? I'm new to the lore of the setting and find it hard to research (which makes sense given its importance to dnd), so I've heard a lot of conflicting things about Mystra's portrayal in the wider series. No pressure, obviously!

No problem! And yea, I've seen her arguing in the posts of a few people I follow or just Gale-related posts I find interesting. Usually I don't get involved in stuff like this, but I noticed a constant pattern and then all the homophobic shit so I went off a little.

Unfortunately it's hard to find exact examples of the Mystra lore because certain modules aren't very popular or even free to access, but if you're interested the best way to learn about her is by reading the Elminster novels. There's twelve total, dating all the way back to 1994, and they detail Elminster's adventures. I'll be honest though, some of them are a hard read and written through the lens of a man who's admitted very creative, but also has a lot of problematic ideas.

In the first book Elminster is a child. His entire town gets wiped out by mages, thereby making him hostile toward magic. He sneaks into Mystra's temple to deface her statue one night, but she appears before him and basically gaslights him into learning magic and becoming her rare Chosen. He becomes a wizard and cleric basically overnight, until eventually he multiclasses into pretty much every class type in DnD. As you can imagine a lot of players aren't too fond of Elminster, as he's a well known self-insert of the author and pretty annoying to run into during campaigns. None of my dungeon masters like him anyway.

He also becomes one of Mystra's most loyal followers, but she fucks with him over and over, turning him into a woman to teach him a lesson and SLEEPING with him in that form, berating him when he struggles with the torture he endures when he gets stuck in the hells, making him reproduce without his knowledge and getting jealous when he gives his partners more attention. Because she's a very jealous goddess, which I think the game vaguely touches on but not really.

I wish I had the time to flip through all the novels and give exact citations but the best I can do is suggest them, because they're so eye opening. She's considered a neutral good goddess, but neutral gods often do terrible things for the sake of their domain. I think it needs to be noted that Mystra, as with all gods in the pantheon, only cares about her portfolio. She isn't wrong for that, but it doesn't mean she's blameless when she messes with people's lives. She's done a lot of good but she's also made horrible decisions, especially where her followers are concerned.

For example, Elminster having children he doesn't know about. He has a daughter named Narnra. Her conception was... pretty fucked up. Basically a song dragon named Ammaratha Cyndusk was an occasional lover of Elminster's (he has a lot of those because of course he does) and she wanted to bear his child, but since he's a Chosen of Mystra he can control his fertility. Magic birth control, basically. He didn't want a kid so Ammaratha went behind his back to learn a counterspell that would make him fertile during sex. The man she asked refused to teach her because...duh that's messed up, but then Mystra intervened and told him to teach her the spell because she wanted Elminster's "seed to spread". Ammaratha never told him and neither did Mystra. No matter what the reasons, that was NOT consensual on Elminster's part, and it happened two more times, resulting in two more daughters with different women. If I remember correctly Elminster did eventually find out waaaaay later when they were all adults, but it never amounted to anything.

The sisters I was taking about are the Seven Sisters, Mystra's "daughters". And I put "daughters" in quotations because Mystra possessed the body of a woman named Elué and impregnated her without her consent. She slept with the woman's husband (again, while possessing her body) and made them sire seven children. This of course lead to Elué's death because the constant flow of magic in her body was too much for her to handle. Her grieving husband broke after she died and eventually left, abandoning his daughters and earning Mystra's scorn...as if he was in the wrong. The sisters were then orphaned and raised by foster families.

That said, most of the awful things anyone can say about Mystra were the doings of her previous incarnations so ultimately it doesn't apply to the Mystra of BG3. In fact, this third Mystra is supposed to be a new and improved goddess who's nicer to her followers. So her portrayal in BG3 annoyed a lot of DnD fans. I should also point out that Mystra has two types of fans: ones who will defend everything she does, even when it's fucked up beyond all comprehension, and the ones who will tell you she's a true neutral goddess capable of good and bad. I'm the latter. There are plenty examples of Mystra sticking her neck out for innocents, but there's also examples of her doing the most horrendous shit imaginable.

A lot of veteran players, at least the ones I know, are upset with the portrayal of Mystra in BG3 because her plan to end the Absolute is, quite frankly, stupid. Your party is the best chance anyone has of ending the threat, but she asks Gale to nuke himself and possibly tens of thousands, which makes no sense because she could've just sent her mages/clerics to deal with the problem. And there was no guarantee the bomb would've worked anyway. She put all the responsibility on one man and it DEFINITELY comes off as vindictive. That isn't out if character for her but she's not SUPPOSED to be that bad anymore. For a lot of DnD players it felt like she was reverting back to her old habits.

I think there's also a part in the game where you can directly ask Gale why she doesn't just blip the Absolute out of existence and he says something like, "She could but Ao won't allow it." That was also really strange for a lot of veteran players to hear because Gale drops Ao's name like it's nothing. Most people (especially if they're new to the franchise) wouldn't know this but most people in Faerûn don't know who Ao is! Because he wiped people's memories of his existence! I suppose it does make sense for Gale to know that name, since Mystra probably explained the pantheon to him, but it's VERY unlikely tav would know it. So during that conversation all I could picture was tav tilting their head like, "Huh? Who? Whaaa?"

And on top of that......Ao absolutely WOULD allow it because the Absolute effects the Weave and every other god! It had the potential to ruin the balance of the universe, which makes Ao a very angry boy. Balance is one of the ONLY things he cares about. The Dead Three were stealing souls and worshippers, which gods needs to survive, and dying gods disrupts the balance. It's a whole circle of chaos. So the only conclusion left for me to extrapolate is this: Mystra just really, really wanted Gale to kill himself to prove his devotion to her. Which...isn't great. Bad look for her.

It's kind of like how Raphael thinks the Crown of Karsus is going to help him end the Blood War and take over the hells. DnD players laughed during his epilogue because...no it won't lol. He doesn't stand a chance even with the crown. He's arrogant and he's gonna get slapped by his daddy and all the other archdevils, the same way Gale gets slapped by Mystra if he ascends. Even the Absolute ending of the game wouldn't last long because the gods would go to war with the Dead Three, wipe them out and rebuild Faerûn, which has happened many times in past DnD campaigns. Mystra alone has torn worlds apart and glued them back together. The main crisis of BG3 is saving the world you live in or everybody dies. For the gods it's just a Tuesday. I mean look at how Withers owns the Dead Three with a wave of his hand at the end of the game. Mystra COULD'VE killed the Absolute, just as she could've removed the orb from Gale's chest the moment it happened. She just didn't WANT to. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to chastise himself. She wanted him to suffer and come crawling back to her as an obedient follower. She wanted him to learn a harsh and honestly unfair lesson, which is a terrible throwback to her previous incarnations.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Wait, did Rick actually say that demigods can't have PTSD?

Because of what? Their godly side? Their ADHD?

There are so many people with ADHD who have PTSD. How much research did he do?

Rick implied at some point more recently (sometime during HoO or soon after, while discussing Percabeth post-Tartarus) that demigods either don't get PTSD (specifically that Percabeth and/or Nico wouldn't have PTSD from Tartarus - which was later retconned) or it's much more difficult for them to get PTSD. While he didn't entirely say that demigods fully can't get PTSD, moreso that Percy and Annabeth just didn't get PTSD specifically from Tartarus, most people took it as "demigods can't get PTSD at all for demigod reasons."

In actuality, this already conflicts with The Lightning Thief, because Percy literally starts the series with PTSD or cPTSD from Gabe. It's not even a subtle or small detail - it's a major detail that totally informs how Percy navigates the world, particularly his dynamic with a lot of authority figures; Mr. D in particular explicitly, entirely because Percy says that he reminds him of Gabe. It takes literally the entire first series for Percy to be able to move past his PTSD response to actually form a friendship with Mr. D, and even into SoN we get references to Percy's PTSD from Gabe.

And like you said - a ton of folks with ADHD (and autism and all across the neurodivergent spectrum) commonly have PTSD. cPTSD particularly relating to schooling systems is EXTREMELY common. Like, almost guaranteed common at least in America. There is actual research about how the current American school system is set up is inherently traumatizing to neurodivergent students.

I have no idea why Rick temporarily decided to try and claim that demigods didn't get PTSD? It is true that PTSD is kind of random - you can absolutely go through an extremely traumatizing event and not develop PTSD, and/or go through a "less" traumatizing event and get PTSD from that but not the other - so claiming just that Percy and Annabeth didn't get PTSD specifically from Tartarus for ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ reasons isn't unfair to say. But saying that they just can't full-stop, especially when the series already confirmed that's not true, is extremely bizarre. It kind of reminds me of how in Un Natale Mezzosangue, Rick says that demigods can't get covid for some reason? Even though demigods can get sick from other general illnesses? He just randomly decided covid was a "mortals-only illness" which has very bad undertones. Meanwhile in TOA and TSATS immortals can get hayfever. Go figure.

There is also an aspect, particularly relating to the retcons about this, with how the fandom interacts with it. The question asked to Rick to begin with implied that Percy did not already have PTSD in any form, or that Nico wasn't exhibiting PTSD from Tartarus at all. Neither of those things were true - Nico does appear to have some amount of trauma response from Tartarus in HoO and Percy VERY explicitly has PTSD in the first series and further references to it in SoN. But neither get acknowledged by readers much if at all because it doesn't look like stereotypical PTSD - it looks like real PTSD. It also never gets called PTSD by name (because it doesn't make sense to do that! You don't do that in writing most of the time). Their PTSD (and Annabeth's) only gets acknowledged by readers when it uses explicit exact terminology (like Nico in TOA) or stereotypical depictions (TSATS). Which is really a shame! Because Percy's first series PTSD is honestly a really fantastic depiction of PTSD in my opinion! It's subtle and consistent and it highlights a lot of aspects of PTSD that get overlooked beyond "actively having a full-blown panic attack" or the stereotypical "waking up screaming and crying." Particularly for a neurodiverse audience that's more likely to have cPTSD themselves, Percy having those subtler symptoms being highlighted is way more relatable because that's more likely to be the most common symptoms for those readers! And i do very much wish that was touched upon more!

[narastories]

on the topic of writing software

I want to ramble at you about some writing software options. 98% of the time I'm perfectly content with LibreOffice Writer (and previously I used Word, back when Microsoft products were less shitty). But every now and then when I have a new project (like now - more on that later) I start looking for something shiny and new to try. And I fell down into another research rabbit hole lol

I usually don't talk a lot about this bc my needs are very simple, and not sure how useful my opinion is to others, but I enjoy the topic. It's an intersection of creative writing and tech nerdiness and I like both of those things. Also what writing software you prefer really depends on the type of writer that you are, and everyone has a slightly different writing process and I find that fascinating.

Now, as I said, I'm coming at it from a slightly tech-nerd angle. I don't care if the installation is clunky, I'm happy to see the words open-source, and the need to create an account will already mildly piss me off (:

Don't worry, I'm not as intense as the guy writing his novel in Vim. Though fucking respect. And I can't say I'm not tempted to try it even with the steep learning curve lmao (Seriously, if you don't know Vim is notorious among software developers.)

Anyway, things I've tried so far:

Manuskript: this was listed as an open-source Scrivener alternative (though I haven't tried Scrivener. so.). I gave it a go when I was writing heart worth the trouble and it was pretty nice. It helped me when I had to move scenes and chapters around. But overall I think it was made with plotters in mind bc it wants you to enter a lot of information upfront. I'm not a planner/architect type of writer so this type of software is a bit overwhelming for me. Still, the fact that it's open source and works on Linux gets kudos from me.

Wavemaker: I recently played around with this, and I actually surprisingly like the features it has. You can put multiple books in a project, which is very nice if you like to work on different things, like fanfic, novels, etc. The mindmap is a feature I liked, though it's a bit clunky bc it collapses the text fields when you exit, and once I added an image field by accident that I could never remove lol I do like a bit of a snowflake method, so that feature is cool, and the cards are pretty straightforward too. Usually, my problem with these apps is that I don't even want to touch half of the features so they are pointless to me, but the features of Wavemaker were kind of nice. It's a web app that you can download and use offline but it's still working from your browser if that makes sense. That was what I didn't really appreciate. Also, it doesn't give you a lot of options to back it up. You either save the wavemaker file, export it into a document (which is fine, but it adds an extra step to the backup process) or you sync with Google Drive *shudders*

Things I want to try out:

Calmly Writer: now this is just purely a text editor that focuses on being very zen, streamlined, distraction-free, etc. It's pretty and it has typewriter sounds. (Yeah, I'm not immune to a pretty UI and harmless fun features alright? I can contain multitudes :P) It has an online version, but you can also download it, and works on Windows, Mac, and Linux. On paper, the desktop app requires a license, but the way they put it is that you can evaluate it for free and the evaluation doesn't have an enforced time limit... So. As good as free. (Though if I really like it, I would totally consider buying a license for 20usd that I can use on 3 computers, that seems fair. I appreciate a license over a subscription model for sure.) Honestly, I think this is the one I'm going to try next bc it just integrates perfectly into my writing process. That being: a multitude of messy, hand-written notes and notebooks + a document editor + backups on hard drive and GitHub (yes, really) ^^"

Shaxpir: This is on the opposite end of the spectrum basically, but out of the "fancy" ones, I kind of like the look of this the most. I like the statistics part in particular. But honestly, I probably won't try it bc it doesn't have a Linux version which would be a pain in the ass for me, and is cloud-based. I kind of don't really trust them, which is my biggest issue with these companies. (Although the creator's heart seems to be in the right place when it comes to AI. Basically, some of their features are based on machine learning and language models. For example, it will recognize passive voice, if it's an adverb with "-ly" or the emotion of a word. Which I think is all cool and fine and shouldn't be lumped in with generative AI. But he also had a website that did this analysis for already published works, and when people pointed out that it was sketchy, he took that down and I can respect that. I'm not sure how much it influenced the actual features of the app, maybe I'll just take a peek out of curiosity. The whole thing does make me have trust issues though lmao) If anyone has experience with it though, I'm interested to hear about it.

Obsidian: not a dedicated writing software, but rather an elaborate note-taking app. I heard good things about it from smart people lol If I really wanted to access my writing on my phone, I would probably use this bc it works on every platform and has end-to-end encrypted sync with version control. I heard you can also integrate it with GitHub which is always music to my ears lol But the setup probably takes a bit of time and I'm not particularly motivated to do that right now.

So yeah, those are the options that appeal to me right now. If anyone used these and has opinions, I'm all ears :D

[phopollo]

Could we also get back stories for Electra and the components and their families?

Love your art❣️❣️❣️

Hoo boy, okay, time to avoid putting off this answer akdbskdje

None of them have like.... "simple" backstories, but talking about the electrics and their backstories in the cartooniverse is definitely the most complicated, because they all tie back to Electra and/or Purse and Krupp. So! I'll start with them!

Another big long post, im so sorry akfnskd

Purse & Krupp

Even though I'm talking about them together, Purse & Krupp didn't know each other or even about each other's existences before being hired to work together. Purse had participated in some shadier money management activities, most of which was under the table work. Trying to get out of that, he applied for a job with a large and well known company and production line, seeking a personal money manager/accountant, legal advisor, and PR rep. Not all the same job for the same person, for the new face of the company. But Purse, feeling cheeky, applied for all three job positions. And then proceeded to land all three of them. Krupp, meanwhile, wasn't anything or anyone special or of note. As an armaments truck, he'd worked part time with public security and part time shuttling things said public security needed back and forth. He was simply looking for a raise, and seeing that this big large company was looking for personal security for the new face of the company, applied, not expecting to get the job. Purse and Krupp met perhaps a week before they met Electra and were given an opportunity to bsck out, as they were still in production when they were hired. Neither Purse or Krupp really processed what their new boss not even being fully built yet meant outside of "Oh, they might be a little naive." (Welcome to fatherhood you two!)

Electra

Electra was factory built specifically for and by the mentioned company that Purse and Krupp were hired by. They had been powered on for perhaps three hours before immediately being shoved in to Purse and Krupp's arms, and then in to their new job. Their entire purpose was to be a pretty face and be convincing for people to want to do business with their company. They didn't work on a line, and they didn't race. Occasionally, they did something more akin to shows, but... never anything that gave them that thrill they'd been seeking. After about 2 years, they made a convincing enough argument to their company to be allowed to participate in a single race-- a decision that the company would later regret, because they'd continue to make arguements to keep entering in races, which they'd always win. Another two years later (so roughly 4 years old total), Electra decided to break off from their parent company to go out on their own in a solo career for racing, having felt so drawn to and called by it. They took Purse and Krupp with them when they did, leaving their company to have to scramble for a new face and employees all over again. Here's some bonus babylectra & their gay dads loyal employees content (both while company owned and on their own)

Wrench

I say this so affectionately, Wrench was a freaky little girl. She was surrogate built for her demolition truck parents, and grew up literally right next to a scrap yard, where she would very happily go play as a kid. She really really liked to take things apart and try to figure out how they worked. Her parents, being demolition trucks who's jobs were also to take things apart, were supportive if not a little concerned by how methodical she was by it, but hey, they guess she's taking an interest in the fsmily business? But one day, while doing her thing and taking scraps apart, she broke her finger and needed to be taken to see a repair truck. And that totally blew her mind. Being able to put things back together?? Oh she NEEDED to be able to do that. She HAD to know how things worked AND be able to make them work. So! Wrench started doing her research to become a repair truck immediately (much to her parents concerned support), despite being far too young to actually begin training. By the time she actually got to her repair training, she was extremely knowledgeable (and morbid-) about diesel and steam engines, as there was so much information out in the world about them. But she was fascinated by the lack of information she could find on electric engines-- so new, constantly changing.... there weren't any experts in her or any of her neighboring yards. So of course, she decided that thats what she wanted to specialize in for repairs, despite not many electric engines passing through her station. (The scrap yard became her best friend during this time.) It was difficult after she became a fully certified repair truck though, due to that lack of electrics passing through her yard and not having the heart to apply for a transfer. She wasn't taken seriously, and frequently wasn't fetched for the few electrics that did need repairs, as the other repair trucks frequently just went ahead and fixed whatever little problem it was-- screw needing tightening, plating reaplications, etc etc. One day, she was called out to one of her neighboring stations though, as there had been a crash on the tracks involving an electric engine-- Electra. When she arrived, rather than just fixing whatever problem was caused by the crash, she also identified and fixed long standing problems they didn't even know they'd had, most of which caused by non electric specialized repair trucks assuming they could fix something minor. She was offered a job as their personal repair truck before she even finished her work that day. Here's a little baby Wrench just starting her repair training & Wrench the day she was hired. She became the first component they'd actually chosen for themself.

Volta

Volta grew up in a bit of a smaller, more conservative yard. The old school traditional freight and coach roles and presentations were more prevelant. So of course, when Volta, as a freight car, started expressing and experimenting with self expression that was viewed as traditionally "more coach-like," caring more for his hair and getting interested in makeup and fashion, he wasn't exactly popular with his peers. Considered too coach-like to get on with the freight, and the coaches unable to see past him being freight and get along. It was rough for the little dude, turning him a bit jaded and snarky at a young age, just out of tje need tor a defense mechanism. It never stopped him, but the constant isolation and judgement did beat him down quite a bit as he made it to adulthood. Meeting Electra, Purse, Krupp, and Wrench was pure coincidence. They were simply passing through a station that was part of his work route at the same time that he was. And he was absolutely enamored with them. They were the first rolling stock he'd seen who's expression of self was so similar to his, how could be not stare? Purse was the one to approach Volta. He wanted to know what shade and brand he used for his eye makeup, and if he thought it would work for Electra. Volta, trying desperately to be more interesting and keep these people talking to him, cracked a joke that they'd have to pay him for a consultation. To his shock, Purse agreed and asked him about prices and appointment times. When Electra & co actually showed up for the consultation, he absolutely faked it until he made it and they were happy with the result. He felt so normal for the first time ever talking to them, that when Electra & co went to leave, he extremely impulsively asked for a job. It was mortifying-- the most embarassing desperate moment of his entire life. Especially when Electra said no. But a moment of weakness and desperation, because several months later Electra returned to offer him a job, looking for a stylist and knowing he was interested. Bonus of of course, baby Volta & Volta the day he was hired

Joule

You know the saying "it takes a village?" Replace "village" eith "circus," and say hello to literally Joule. She wae built as an animal car in a circus train, and while even though not everyone was technically her family, that didn't matter because they all behaved like her family. It was generally an extremely positive environment to grow up in. The obvious downsides to being a performer from a young age and having such a large family of course reared their heads, but generally speaking, she wouldn't say she had a bad childhood. She was working and participating in acts before she hit double digits, but... well there wasn't exactly a lack of animal cars, and in her early teen years began to feel like it wouldn't really matter of she were there or not. She isn't really sure what sparked her interest-- perhaps it was just being different from what she was used to-- but she eventually took interest in the art of fire eating. Researching in to that took her down the road of pyrotechnics, and before she knew it, Joule was converting in to a dynamite truck and switching acts. And she loved it. She loved it for a really long time. She still does, actually, but... well. After awhile, it just made her... tired. Being in front of an audience like that was tiring. After shows, she'd always immediately go check and lock and undo everything that if anything went wrong could make everything brust into flames, and by the time she was done, most of the guests who'd stay to chat were already gone or on their way out. Never talking to anyone but her family and doing the same things every day was just... exhausting. Which is why when she returned from her checks after a show one day and found some massihe blue freak and their entourage waiting to talk to her specifically, who hadn't spoken to anyone else, it was extreme pleasantly surprising. More so when they'd ask her challenging questions about her job and hypotheticals about how she'd do something. And even more so when they'd keep coming back. She'd begun to find the most exciting part about performing was trying to spot them in the crowd and speaking with them afterwards, even if the conversations quickly derailed. It hadn't taken long for her to learn that this massive blue freak was a racer-- Electra-- but it took quite awhile for her schedule to line up to go watch them the way they'd kept coming to see her. It was only fair, wasn't it? But when Joule showed up, the atmosphere was so.... familiar, and yet.... different. It was exciting. And the race was exciting. The idea of going that fast was so alluring. She knew she'd want to get more involved in the racing scene. And watching Electra race? They were so cool and hot and powerful, and-- just-- woah. They lived like this? They just went to different places, and they didn't have a set routine when they performed? Extremely enticing. And when Electra saw her in the crowd and waved to her? And then immediately approached her after winning? Insane. It made Joule feel more seen than she had in her entire life. She didn't hesitate in the slightest when they offered her a job. And as per usual, bonus baby Joule & Joule the day she was hired

Killerwatt

Killerwatt's story doesn't actually begin with him-- he doesn't actually show up until late. It actually starts about 2 years before he's built, when Purse and Krupp start to disagree with some of the choices Electra had been making. At first, they kept their mouths shut. It wasn't frequent. They weren't decisions that were big deals. But the more time went on, the bigger deals they were, and eventually, they couldn't keep their mouths shut about it. It started to get bad, with frequent argurments and disagreements, and tension hanging over everyone. Now, with Electra as their own company, their own business, they began to wonder if they really needed Purse and Krupp. They had long since learned to mange their own bank accounts and the legalities of things, and Volta and Joule had honestly taken up most of the social media managing that Purse was supposed to be doing. And fans were respectful-- there hadn't been any threats made other than with fellow racers, of which, Electra could easily handle themself. What was Krupp even doing? But-- sentimentality kept them from firing them. About five months prior to Killerwatt's building, Electra finally decided and told Purse and Krupp that they wouldn't be renewing their contracts. And when asked if they were being replaced, grew extremely concerned that Electra didn't plan to at least replace Krupp. The only reason Electra thought he wasn't doing anything was because he was good enough at his job that the security details never reached them. Purse and Krupp were so undeniably attached to Electra after almost 10 years together, and they were extremely nervous about leaving them with no protection. So the two of them formed a plan. About two weeks before their contracts ended, having waited and timed things as last second as they could so Electra wouldn't notice until after they were gone and it was too late, and while it was still legal due to some fun loopholes Purse found, the two of them pushed through a commission order to a factory. A commission... specifically for a security truck for a Electra. And their plan worked. Electra got the email two weeks after Purse and Krupp left that their security truck would be ready in about a week, and did they want to come choose from the batch themself, or have one randomly selected and sent out to them? (They learned a very hard lesson to check their bank account more frequently that day.) So Electra, after tweaking out over Purse and Krupp spending their money, and on a security truck that they did not want, decided that-- well they wouldn't let this all be a total waste. And it wouldn't be fair for someone to be built to do something and not even have the chance to, they'd offer the smallest timedrame contract they could. So they showed up about two days after the batch had been finished and had time to be told what to expect, as almost all factory built rolling stock get. And... well, none of them really stood out. They were all so well trained in security already that there really wasn't anything that made any of them stand out, and, honestly, Electra was on the verge of just hiring whichever one they thought would clean up best and look good next to the rest of the components. But-- hold on, I actually have a visual for this moment

And I fear then both of their faces were sealed in that moment. Electra had to have this one. He was the only one looking at and following them. And-- well even if he wouldn't be doing much of anything, how could they possibly hire a security truck who wouldn't keep their eyes on them and their safety?? It's now been 3 years, and Electra has since learned his name is Killerwatt, and this was the best hiring decision they could have ever made. Bonus Babywatt doodle, of course, just to show off his pretty curls better

[fluentmoviequoter]

Just a Dog Walker

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x grad student!dog walker!fem!reader

Summary: As Tim's dog walker, and nothing more, you grow close to him and Kojo. After protecting Kojo from a dog fight, you learn how Tim really sees you.

Warnings: dog attack, dog bite (r), fluffy ending. (Kojo is totally fine!)

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: More Kojo, what the world really needs.

“Sergeant Bradford, come to my office for a minute?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers quickly. “Uh, sorry. No, sir, I can’t.”

Crossing his arms, Wade inquires, “Why not?”

A low huff is audible in Tim’s office, but Wade knows it isn’t him.

“Is yo’ dog under that desk?”

“No.”

“Let me amend the question. Is Kojo under the desk?”

Kojo barks happily, trying to push past Tim to visit Wade. Wade shakes his head, dropping his arms.

“Why is he here?”

“I’m working a double and I couldn’t leave him at home. What if he had run out of water or needed to go out?” Tim answers.

“You know, here in sunny Los Angeles, there are more people than I can count who are certified dog sitters.”

“Kojo doesn’t like strangers.”

“Just Kojo? Look, Tim, I get it, the bond between a man and his dog. But, there has to be a boundary, a separation somewhere. I’ll call Luna, she’s got friends with dogs and trusted, bonded employees who watch their dogs. Walk ‘em daily, train ‘em, do everything while you’re at work.”

“I can take care of my dog by myself.”

“Not while you’re at work, Bradford. He can stay for now, Lord knows he’s a better boy than you, but by the end of the week I want to know you’ve got someone to care for him.”

Tim grumbles, pushing his hands under the desk to pet Kojo. “I’ll take you up on Luna’s friends then.”

“She’ll call later.”

“You already asked her?”

“’Course I did. We have work to do. And, so you know, we can see Kojo’s paws under the desk. But nice try.”

“I tried, buddy,” Tim tells Kojo, passing him a treat from the container hidden in his desk drawer.

✯✯✯✯✯

Grad school is expensive, but since you don’t have the degree level you are striving for, you need a different job to get you through. Pushing 30 and being a dog walker isn’t ideal, but it’s paying the bills. One of your neighbors helped you open a business with proper insurance and licensing to care for the dogs of Los Angeles. 

Most of your clients live nearby, and you do your rounds twice daily, studying and attending classes between. One of your favorite clients has a friend named Luna, who you love. She gets you jobs, helps you out constantly, and is like a mother figure to you. You are forever grateful for her. So, when she calls, you rush to answer.

“Hey, Luna!” you answer. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you doing? Still working on your dissertation; making progress?”

“Slow but steady, yeah. What can I do for you?”

“This is actually something I can do for you. There’s a sergeant that works with Wade; he’s got a dog and needs someone trusted to take care of his dog while he’s at work. He’s been sneaking Kojo into the station and Wade had to ask him to stop.”

“Kojo? That’s an adorable name. But, yeah, I’d be happy to meet him.”

“Awesome! His name’s Tim. I will send him your number and have Wade force him to set something up.”

“Is Tim a little rough around the edges, typical cop type?”

“Not typical, no… Just- you’ll see when you meet him. He’s great, though, deep down.”

“I’ll try to remember that. Thanks, Luna.”

“See you Friday?”

“See you Friday.”

You sit back, writing the name ‘Tim’ on your dog-walking calendar. Another client would be great for your wallet, but it seems like this sergeant will take some convincing before he hires you. This is understandable, of course, because you wouldn’t let just anyone take care of your babies, and dogs are just four-legged babies. 

“Please be as great as Luna said,” you whisper before returning your attention to the research before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Yeah, I texted her. We’re meeting at an outdoor café tonight,” Tim says before Wade can ask. “But if I don’t like her or if Kojo doesn’t like her, I’m going to keep looking.”

“Got it,” Wade answers. “But you’ve got more double shifts in your future, so don’t take too long trying to find a ‘perfect’ dog walker.”

Tim nods, hoping he can find a way out of letting a stranger into his house to take care of his dog. He checked your name, and your business seems legitimate, but there’s no way of knowing. Luckily, he and Kojo are both excellent judges of character.

✯✯✯✯✯

Luna sent you a picture of Kojo, and you spot him immediately. The man sitting beside him, though, is breathtakingly handsome. You’re shocked that he doesn’t have female neighbors and friends lining up at his door, offering to take care of Kojo (and him). 

“Hi, Mr. Bradford?” you ask.

Kojo looks up at you and pants, his tail slapping against Tim’s leg.

“Yes. Nice to meet you,” Tim replies, offering his hand.

Shaking his hand, you glance down at Kojo. When Tim releases his grip, you squat and extend your hand for Kojo to sniff. He flips your hand up with his snout, stepping closer to you.

“I’m sure Luna told you that I’m a cop,” Tim continues, drawing your attention away from Kojo.

You sit beside him, lowering a hand to pat Kojo’s head. “She did, sir.”

“Then you know that if anything were to happen to my house during or after your visit, I could very easily charge you with any number of crimes. And I won’t tell you what I would do if something happened to Kojo while under your care.”

You can’t tell if his threat is legitimate, so you nod in understanding.

“Yes, sir, I understand. Kojo’s safety, and your home, of course, are of the utmost importance and I will do everything I can to do right by both of you.”

Tim nods, watching Kojo for a moment. “You’re good with him. He’s not always so welcoming with strangers; scared one of my girlfriends away once. So, I’m going to give you a chance.”

“Amazing. Thank you, sir. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“What do we need to do to get started?”

“I can offer you a few days free, as a trial run. And if you still want to keep me on afterward, we can discuss payment, sir.”

“That’s unnecessary. I need someone to take care of Kojo and you seem to be the best fit.”

“Okay. Then I will email you a link to create a client account and my website has a portal to pay. Luna mentioned that you work overnight sometimes, so if you needed me to do later or earlier visits, I can do that too, sir.”

“Sounds good.”

Tim stands, wiping his hand on his jeans before offering his hand again.

“Nice to meet you and I look forward to your email.”

“You, too. And thank you.”

Petting Kojo once more, you smile before walking away. You didn’t expect him to be so attractive, so you have to remember that he clarified you’re his dogwalker, and he doesn’t even really want a dogwalker.

Determined to make him see the benefits of someone caring for Kojo, you add him to your schedule before he even pays you. Money is no longer a concern; you’re already in love with Kojo, and now, you need to focus on not falling for his owner, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’d you think about her? I know you hired her, but what’d you think personally?” Luna asks, standing in Wade’s office.

Tim shrugs. “She’s very polite. Seems driven, hard-working, responsible.”

“Well, now that you’ve read her resumé, have anything else to add?”

Tim doesn’t answer, and Wade guesses, “She makes you nervous?”

“A little.”

“What?” Luna exclaims. “She’s the sweetest!”

“Not like that, Luna,” Wade interjects. “Someone wasn’t expecting a pretty dog walker.”

“Oh. Tim Bradford, I wasn’t sure you still had it in you.”

“She is taking care of Kojo. Yes, she is beautiful, but this won’t go any farther than a business agreement.”

“Care to bet on that?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers before leaving and closing the door behind him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Kojo, Kojo,” you call, entering Tim’s house with the key he had made for you.

Kojo’s nails click on the flooring, rushing to greet you.

“Hey, buddy. You miss your dad? I bet you do.”

As you slide Kojo’s harness over his front legs, he licks your face, and you laugh, scratching his chest before standing to connect his leash. Kojo has quickly become your favorite dog. You visit several throughout the day, but Kojo is the sweetest and the most handsome.

When you return to Tim’s side door, it’s standing open. You know that you closed and locked it, so you pull Kojo’s leash tight, stepping back as you prepare to run.

“It’s just me!” Tim yells from inside. “Sorry, my hands were full, and I couldn’t close the door.”

Sighing in relief, you lead Kojo inside, closing the door behind you and locking it instinctually.

“Honey, we’re home!” you call.

Tim freezes in the kitchen at your teasing, borderline flirtatious tone. You remove Kojo’s leash and harness and put it away, following him as he runs toward Tim.

“Why are you home so early?” you ask.

“I worked all night,” Tim answers. “Thought you’d feel my absence through our connection.”

You chuckle at Tim’s flirting. After the second meeting, it became much easier to talk to him. Interestingly enough, Tim started the flirtatious tendencies. You tend to stick to business-related topics, but sometimes it feels like you’re just two friends – maybe more – and you forget you’re just his dog walker.

“Everything go okay at work, sir? Kojo, for one, had a great day.”

Tim says your name, a sigh more than anything. “I told you a week ago to stop calling me sir.”

“Sorry, sir- Tim.”

Tim looks away suddenly, turning his attention to the bags he carried inside while you were walking Kojo.

“Did you even wonder where Kojo was?” you ask.

“No. I know his dog walker is punctual… and a control freak.”

“Planning my day doesn’t make me a control freak!”

“You have it planned to the minute.”

“To accommodate you,” you grumble.

“Yet you won’t let me take you on a date.”

“You won’t ask.”

You fall silent, and when you think you took it too far, Kojo barks and makes you both laugh. Talking to Tim is easy, but no matter how much you love Kojo or think you could be more, you must keep everything in perspective. Tim is older, a police sergeant, and you are his college student dog walker.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hello?” you ask, answering your phone and rubbing your eyes as you look away from the computer screen.

“Hey,” Tim says. “I’m so sorry for the late notice but I’m going to be here overnight. Could you-“

“I’ll go over now.”

“Listen, it’s crazy out there right now. If you want to stay there, please do. I don’t want you out more than you have to be.”

“Tim, that’s not necessary.”

“Please. It’s not just for your safety; I’ll feel better knowing that you’re somewhere safe.”

“Okay,” you reply. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m insisting. Kojo is a cuddler, but that’s all you have to fear there.”

“Oh, you should have started with that. Kojo cuddles sound amazing.”

“Long day?”

“Not as long as yours. I’ll text you when I get there. Thank you, Tim.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“See you then.”

The drive to Tim’s house is short, but you hear several police sirens. Whatever they’re dealing with does seem (as Tim put it) crazy. Once you’re inside and the alarm is reset, you collapse on the couch and let Kojo cuddle up to you. You feel weirdly close to Tim, too, probably from being in his house. Falling asleep here is easy; you’re at peace, happy, and cuddled by a warm, loving dog.

✯✯✯✯✯

Waking up is not quite as peaceful. Tim is taking a picture, and when you grunt, he lowers the phone and smiles.

“That’s adorable,” he states.

“I’m quitting,” you murmur, throwing an arm over Kojo.

“You know, he didn’t even come see me when I got home? He’s a cheater, although I can’t blame him. It does look pretty comfortable.”

Ignoring him, you move closer to Kojo.

“Consider this my two hours’ notice.”

Tim chuckles, and the couch dips by your feet as he sits. When you sit up, he’s leaning back with his eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your way so you can rest. Need me to come back later?”

“No, I’m here all day. If you want to stay, you can.”

“I have a paper to finish,” you lament. “But I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” You’re gathering your things when Tim reiterates, “Seriously. You’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Drive safe.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s cloudy in Los Angeles, like a bad omen. So, you’re seriously considering taking Tim’s previous offer of staying at his house to work. Kojo is the last dog you visit, and you look down at him as he sniffs the base of a streetlight.

“Mind if I stay with you for the rest of the day?” you ask him.

Kojo’s tail wags faster, but he’s still more interested in the light than you.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Kojo picks his head up, continuing toward the corner as you lead him down the sidewalk. You see something move up the road and command Kojo to stop. Unsure if it’s a dog or some other animal, you wait a moment before walking again.

With your attention on the unknown shadow before you, you fail to hear a dog running up behind you. Kojo turns suddenly, and you don’t register what’s happening as you push him out of the way.

Another dog, about Kojo’s size, with no leash or owner in sight, is on top of you. Kojo is barking, trying to help, but you yell at him to stay back.

“Kojo, sit!” you yell over the other dog’s growling.

Your yell turns to a cry of pain when the dog’s jaw clamps down on your arm, his claws digging into your side.

“Get off!” you yell, your adrenaline giving you the strength to push back. 

Once you’re sitting up, you use your legs to free yourself from the dog’s grip. Kojo is behind you, unharmed, and you need to keep it that way. Flipping yourself on top of the dog, it releases your arm before moving its legs wildly, raking a paw across your face as it tries to move away.

“Go!” you yell harshly, moving enough to let it up.

Stomping your foot after it, you show the dog you’re in charge and wait in front of Kojo until it’s out of sight.

“Kojo, we have to go,” you say quickly, grabbing his leash and limping behind him as he leads you home.

Kojo focuses on getting you inside, and when you close the door and fall to the floor, he moves to your side. He whimpers, and you want to comfort him, but you are growing dizzy.

“You okay, boy?” you mumble.

You scream in pain when you raise your hand to check that Kojo is okay. After dropping your arm, your breathing grows shallow as tears stream down your face. Kojo whines again, and you want to reach for your phone, but your arms feel too heavy to move. Looking down, you suddenly realize the severity of what happened. Covered in blood and with no strength to call for help, you whisper an apology to Kojo and let your eyes drift close.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim sighs as he turns onto his street. He’s ready to see Kojo and, if he’s lucky, you. When Tim sees your car in the driveway, he smiles and rushes toward the door. That happiness quickly disappears when he notices the trail of blood leading up the driveway. Walking to the sidewalk, he sees that it leads nearly to the corner. Racing to the backdoor, which has a large blood smear below a clear handprint, Tim keeps a hand on his gun as he unlocks the door.

Kojo’s whimpering greets Tim, and when he looks down, he sees that Kojo has blood on him. Kojo looks over quickly, and Tim follows his movement. Whatever fear he felt when he saw the blood on Kojo is multiplied when he sees you.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Tim calls for an ambulance before kneeling beside you.

“Is Kojo okay?” you ask weakly.

“He’s okay,” Tim promises, leaning closer in a poor attempt to find the source of your blood. “What hurts?”

“What doesn’t? Did you check on Kojo? He seemed okay but I couldn’t make sure the blood was mine.”

Tim turns, running his hands all over Kojo. The blood is only on his fur, evidently not his.

“He’s fine,” Tim repeats, his voice breaking at the end. “You are not.”

“There was a dog free running and I- I didn’t see it. Kojo stayed behind me so I need him to be okay.”

Tears are running down your face again, mixing with the blood. Tim wants to wipe them away, but the clear claw mark over your cheek deters him.

“There’s an ambulance on the way, you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. Just stay awake.”

“Kojo- Kojo’s a good boy,” you mumble.

“He is. Can you please keep your eyes on me? The ambulance is almost here.”

You nod, and the last thing you remember is Tim’s apologetic look and a painful pressure on your side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim, are you coming with?” Bailey asks.

Tim stares at the bloodstain on his floor and up his wall rather than looking toward her. “I’ll be there soon.”

“We’ll keep you updated. She’ll be okay.”

Tim nods and waits for the EMTs to exit the house before he begins cleaning. He scrubs until every trace of your blood is erased from inside and on the door. After animal control captured the dog, several officers went out to find the dog's owner. Nolan promised to come by and clean the driveway, so Tim concentrated his efforts inside.

“Alright, Kojo, our turn,” Tim calls, letting Kojo into the bathroom to remove the blood from his fur. 

After Tim cleans Kojo and himself and throws away the blood-stained rags and cleaning supplies, he gathers his things to visit you in the hospital.

“I’ll be back with our girl,” Tim promises Kojo as he leaves.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m sorry.” You can’t stop the apology when Tim walks in.

“Stop apologizing. You kept that dog away from Kojo and I don’t- I can’t lose you. I walked in and you were covered in blood… I should have told you before that I care about you.”

“It’s my job to take care of Kojo,” you whisper.

Tim moves to the side of the bed, gently taking your hand. “You are not just a dog walker. I’ve been falling for you since the moment I laid eyes on you. The fact that you love Kojo solidified it for me.”

“I- I have feelings for you too,” you admit.

“They told me your pretty face won’t scar.”

“I barely even remember what happened.”

Tim sits beside your legs as he tells you, “Nolan and Celina arrested the dog’s owner. It wasn’t the first time he had done this.”

“Given a poor, unsuspecting college student thirty stitches while she’s just trying to spend the afternoon in her crush’s house? Oddly specific crime. What’s the code for that?”

Tim chuckles, gently squeezing your hand. “You can go home now. If you’re still up to spend some time in your crush’s house.”

“Tim-“

“Don’t tell me I don’t have to. I want to, need to.”

“I would love to spend time with you and Kojo. But I’m not sure I’m up for flirting today, handsome.”

“After the day you’ve had, just sit back and I’ll do all the flirting.”

“’Preciate that, sir.”

Tim laughs as he exits the room to complete your discharge paperwork. You smile behind him, hoping you’re not dreaming, and you finally told him how you feel.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo,” Tim chides. “Give her some room.”

“You cleaned all the blood?”

Tim gently directs your eyes to him, leaning close to remind you, “You’re more than just a dog walker. Worth the time, the effort, the love, all of it.”

“Love?”

“Yeah. Kojo really loves you.”

You laugh, quickly remembering that you have several stitches on your side.

“Careful,” Tim requests.

“Are you certified to help someone sit still while stitches hold their side closed?” you ask.

“Depends on the patient. You? Absolutely.”

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch before walking to the kitchen to gather some water and snacks. When he returns, Kojo is cuddled up to your uninjured side.

“Really? Again?” Tim asks.

“I love you,” you say, completely distracting Tim as he kneels before you. “But I also think I really want to quit this time.”

Tim laughs, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “That’s fine. I am looking for a girlfriend rather than a dog walker now anyway.”

“Care to see my resumé?”

“Memorized it last time.”