#to be fair. probably not many jobs they could have done! i imagine helping with food prep a lot and mending clothes

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

thinking about how elias went from learning how to take care of themself and exist as a person from the neath's servants, to becoming a paramount presence and London's Adored Regent in a few short years

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi! I’m the one who asked about Cat Villain! Reader theme lol. It’s nice to have a person to think as same as me, anyway civilians probably confusing about how all 4 Robins so fond of the villain but they still have that kind of rivalry to them, at least in civilians’ views. STILL

I’d like to add another trailer song that I often use when rotting over cat villain! reader

Eula’s theme is such a good one for heists/a little tango with the bois.

I feel like the general public have a general clue as to the relationship of cat villain! reader and the robins

purely because some of the guys (*cough* Jason *cough*) has fucked them in public, and as much as Gotham is unsafe at night, and no matter how many measures the boys put to protect you, there will always be fanatics that’ll witness everything you guys do.

of course, the damning info is mostly kept in small circles due to the miraculous power of ‘paying people to take shit down’ the Waynes have but a lot of fans have headcannoned and could sometimes build an entirely accurate version of your relationships.

tim was definitely one of your top fansite keepers before he became robin (even though it wasn’t his main focus). he most likely influenced a very uh… ‘sasaeng’ type of attitude in your fandom. which wasn’t regulated well until he realized his mistakes. nowadays, he makes sure your fans are more tamed.

sometimes i imagine cat villain! reader to be a celebrity, less known in america and mostly abroad (bonus if you guys aren’t from there to begin with, so your popularity can just be focused on or around your home country) that is until they were suddenly seen with Dick Grayson in public. you two were very much young and not careful.

people know you as that person that dated Dick, and is now extremely close with his brother, Tim. Definitely scandalous. The only thing stopping Damian from being labeled as one of your conquests is that, dude only realized his feelings recently and he usually approaches your civilian form as Robin. why? Damian’s just a show off, but Robin can be a show off without being seen as arrogant. he’s just doing his job

you have your fair share of villain friends you enjoy hanging out/sleeping with. some of them do you favors in exchange for a night. mostly because they know it’ll piss off the Batboys and throw them off their game though it does come with the risk of being beaten down to death.

i also think it’d be funny if in civilian form as a celeb, cat villain! reader just likes to profess their ‘undying love’ to Bruce 24/7 and how he totally slept with them once and their heart has been taken since. just like to be a menace and cause more chaos with people accusing them of using his kids.

when you found out tim protected your image and generally surveyed posts about you 24/7 you got into a little argument cause you wanted the world to breakdown about your identity and the shit you’ve done

and last but not least, the only reason you haven’t been cancelled to non-existence is cause of your large donations to charity and very humble living. sure, you liked to troll the universe in its entirety but in the end cat villain! reader main purpose is to help the needy. you’re most likely one of Bruce’s biggest investors (again, just to be a little shit)

you’re a little shit yeah, but you’re the batfam’s little shit.

OH! and you like visiting Jason’s grave even after he came back. partly due to missing his old self, but it also assists with keeping his identity unknown with how often you guys are together.

bonus: you’ve interacted a fair bit with the batgirls and duke. by that i mean you’ve bullied them all at some point that it has become almost a christening ritual for you to be a menace to each member.

[thornnii]

Saw that you request open so: show!percy jackson x daughter of Eris!reader set just after battle of the labyrinth?

⎯ ☆ chaos in the rain

genre: brief angst to fluff wordcount: 1.1k pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader tags: daughter of eris!reader (she/her pronouns), reader hiding out to avoid doing work to rebuild/repair camp after the battle against luke/kronos' army, set after the events of botl, established relationship, probably some inaccuracies summary: what started off as hiding from chores turns into a conversation about oranges notes: I AM SO SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT!! I hope really hope you like this anon ♡♡

↳ return to masterlist

camp was alive with activity after the battle between camp half-blood and luke, or rather kronos's, army. there was a fair amount of damage done to the camp and mr d and chiron had delegated jobs to fix the camp to the different cabins. [reader] sat with her feet dangling off the edge of the cliff by the netball court. technically she was meant to be helping the rest of the hermes cabin and the other unclaimed kids that she bunked with- not that she was unclaimed, she was claimed by her mother a while ago, but there was no cabin for eris at camp half-blood.

'it was like staring out over a beehive' [reader] concluded as she watched the rest of camp from her perch. she pulled her feet up to sit cross-legged before tugging her small satchel bag, filled with snacks she'd been storing up throughout the year, into her lap. it was odd, usually the girl would revel in chaos and destruction, but this time all she could feel was this weird hollowness that seemed to weigh her down as she munched on her stolen goodies. maybe it was because it wasn’t chaos by her hand, or that it had affected the people and the things she had grown to cherish. oh well, it wasn’t going to come to her now, maybe in hindsight whatever she was experiencing would be more obvious.

as [reader] ate and watched the activity of the camp below her a soft mist began to envelop camp half-blood. [reader]’s fellow campers stopped to look up at the sky, embracing the cold patter of rain compared to the humid air that still permeated the area post the violence it had just experienced. [reader] couldn’t imagine the immeasurable pain some campers may be feeling, losing a sibling in such a brutal way. with the negative thoughts swimming around her head, she reached for the golden apple keychain on her bag. a golden apple was one of eris's symbols and it always helped to calm [reader], to make her feel connected to her mother.

[reader] stiffened slightly at the almost indiscernible sound of light footsteps against the wet grass of the volleyball courts. almost as soon as her ears caught the sound, the rain that had been splashing down on her stopped. a small smile graced [reader]’s features. “hi percy.”

“how’d you know it was me?” she could hear the pout on his lips without even needing to turn around and see it.

“percy,” she finally turned around to face him, “there are only two children of poseidon at camp, and only you have been training to try and stop the rain. ever since you saw katara do it in avatar.” [reader] mumbled the last part. percy gave a laugh and landed a playful slap to [reader]’s shoulder as he sat down beside her. she just smiled.

[reader] pulled her hoodie closer around her. even though percy had created a small rainless bubble for them, the wind was still cold as it swept through camp. percy must’ve seen the chill run through [reader] as he pulled her closer to him, resting her head on top of his shoulder. “some agent of chaos you are.”

the two sat there for a while just watching their fellow demigods flitter about. the dark sky of the early morning began to be tinted with dusty pinks and vibrant oranges as the sun made its first peak over the horizon. it was a stupidly peaceful moment considering all that had just passed, but, nevertheless, it was welcomed.

the relationship between [reader] and percy had many raising their eyebrows, wondering how anyone could possibly feel stable with a child of eris. but percy accepted [reader]’s chaotic nature with open arms. and while [reader] encouraged percy to be more impulsive and reckless (than he already was), percy helped to ground [reader]. yin and yang.

“orange slice?” [reader] offered.

“got a blue one?” percy joked as he took the slice presented to him.

“if I find a blue orange, I promise I will get it for you.” [reader] grinned, placing a chaste kiss to the blond’s cheek.

“do think it’s actually possible to turn and orange blue?” percy’s eyebrows were now scrunched in thought as he genuinely considered his question. yet it fell on deaf ears. the sun was continuing to rise as it washed camp half-blood in its soft glow, but all [reader] could focus on was the way it illuminated percy’s features, how it made his eyes sparkle. it wasn’t until percy turned to face [reader] properly that she realised he was waiting for her to reply.

“sorry, what’d you say?” she blushed.

“I was wondering if a blue orange was actually possible.” percy repeated.

“I doubt it. besides you wouldn’t really be able to call it an orange anymore if it wasn’t orange.” [reader] grinned toothily at the absurdity of the question. “also I’d be kinda concerned about the taste.”

“what d’you mean ‘the taste’?”

“well aren’t you putting, like, food colouring or whatever in it to change the colour?”

percy shook his head, “no, I’m talking about a naturally occurring blue orange.”

[reader]’s eyebrows creased in further confusion. “I think naturally occurring is impossible, perc. it’s gonna have had to been changed magically or artificially or something, y’know. and even if you did find this infamous blue orange anyway, what would you call it?”

“a blue.” it was said with such confidence that it caught [reader] off-guard for a second. not that she was really sure why she should’ve been expecting anything else.

“a blurange.” she countered.

“blurange?” percy repeated, his previous confidence replaced with confusion.

“sure. if we are setting this in a world where blue oranges aren’t the norm then it makes sense to brand it as something that people already know, so you take ‘blue’ and ‘orange’ and smash ‘em together: ‘blurange’.” as [reader] explained her side of it percy couldn’t help but nod along. what she said made sense, but…

“but ‘blue’ is funny, cause it’s, like, ironic and shit.” percy crossed his arms and pouted like a toddler that had just been told ‘no’ to a new toy. it made [reader] smile at her boyfriend’s silliness. she gave him another quick kiss to the cheek which only seemed to cause his pout to deepen and her smile to widen.

“agree to disagree?” she held the final slice of orange out towards him like a peace offering.

percy took the slice, stuffing it in his mouth in one and muttering a muffled ‘agreed’.

© thornnii.tumblr.com 2024

[red-pill-to-swallow]

Doing your part in a relationship

Hey babes,

it’s Monday – a new, fresh week and the ultimate opportunity to make some changes.

I don’t know why it feels so much better to start a new routine on a Monday than it does on a random Wednesday.

I took some time after I posted my last two posts and really thought about the relationship dynamic between my man and me.

I thought about changes that I would like to make and what could help us to become a better couple.

Honestly, I was pretty shocked after all my thinking because it turns out that my man is the rock in this relationship and I am not sure why he is still sticking around when he could probably do so much better.

But let me explain:

I gave up working in my full-time job around January 2023 and have been home ever since then.

My man was aware that I was totally burned out from my job and offered me that I could stay at home and take care of the household chores.

Previously we used to split the chores around the house roughly 50/50. It was very fair and in some weeks he did more than me and some weeks I did more than him, like it’s in every relationship.

I would say that I am fairly good at housekeeping. I know how to cook, how to clean and how to do laundry.

However – I never before was responsible for everything. From going grocery shopping and planning meals to cleaning the bathrooms every week – suddenly all of this was on me.

I struggle really bad with organizing myself, this was one of the reasons why I was so burned out from my previous job, and I started slacking.

I would do the laundry one day and take three days before I started folding it. My man literally had no underwear one time and flipped out because that’s obviously disgusting and instead of improving – I started to get mad at him.

It wasn’t only the laundry, it also began affecting my cooking – which I loved doing before – and I would start making only frozen meals or just serving cold meat cuts with bread.

We started fighting a lot more because my man was sad, that instead of relaxing at home he would need to help me with my chores – after a full workday.

I had my epiphany a few weeks ago (when I made this blog) and realized that my man has every right to be mad at me. He does his job. I am not.

So, let’s see – my man works really though hours. He leaves the house early in the morning and comes home in the early evening. He’s usually stressed because his job is very demanding and he is responsible for a lot of people.

Imagine coming home to your girlfriend, who’s staying at home, and almost nothing is done. The fridge isn’t restocked, the floor is dirty and there is no food. After your shower you realize that you have no fresh underwear because your girlfriend didn’t wash any.

I would flip out too.

My behavior was/is borderline disrespectful and I am honestly ashamed because of it. I would have broken up with me if I was him.

But here we are – still together and I don’t plan on dodging this second chance.

I think many girls that want the lifestyle of a spoiled girlfriend or a stay at home girlfriend don’t realize how hard it is to organize a whole household on your own.

Yes, there might be some men out there that are so rich that they don’t mind employing staff to help around the house, but I don’t think that this is achievable for a woman in her twenties without having various high value connections in the right circles. At least I don’t have those connections.

I am responsible for keeping the house clean, making food and going grocery shopping. That takes maybe 5 hours of my day and the rest of the time I can do whatever I want.

My man only wants to come home to a clean, organized house with a stocked fridge and possibly a hot meal on the stove.

Honestly – he is the one that is working his ass off every day, not me.

The worst is, that I even started to neglect my appearance. I used to shave every second day and that slowly progressed to only once a week. I used to color my hair religiously and worked out at least three times a week.

Now I haven’t touched up my hair in over three months, my roots are disgusting and I am very ashamed because of it. I mean, even though my man pays for my beauty appointments – I couldn’t get my ass up.

However, I cleaned our whole house today. From the bottom to the top. It’s spotless. I did laundry and went grocery shopping and I made a plan on how to maintain all of those things.

I won’t share the plan just yet because I want to make sure that I can actually follow it before I share it with you.

What should you take with you after reading this rant?

Be careful that you’re always a responsible partner. Don’t be like me. If you’re telling your partner that you plan on doing something – actually follow through and do it. Don’t disappoint them all the time.

Make sure that you acknowledge what they do for you and thank them for it every once in a while.

It is unattractive to be lazy and not being able to keep up with your standards. It’s unfair to your partner to let yourself go and they have every right to be upset about it.

Think before you speak and start an argument. Are you really right? Is it worth to start an argument about something that is your responsibility?

I mean, my man made it clear in the beginning: If I want to stay at home and live a cozy life – I have to take care of the house while he works and provides for us both.

He does his part of the agreement. Every single day.

I’ve only done my part of the agreement when I felt like it and that is not okay. But I am changing and I know that he has already forgiven me for all the hassle.

See you soon

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Another chapter snippet pt 2

((your halloween gift sorry...))

“You’re a lot of things but I wouldn’t call selfish one of them.”

“Alright then since you know so well why don’t you tell me- what am I?” 

“Defiant.”

“Defiant?” A strange laugh escaped her as she took a step back from the star. “What in the world makes you think that I, of all people, am defiant?!”

“I think that even though you and so many others tell yourself that you don’t deserve better, you don’t truly believe it. If you did then you wouldn’t want things to change. You wouldn’t hate yourself for not being able to accept it or berate yourself for feeling that you weren’t good enough. You wouldn’t want more not for yourself and others and you know that don’t you? That wish in and of itself is defying the very concept of the strict structure that your society seeks to perpetuate. But the people around you that’s become your world, have done nothing more than disappoint you over and over again so much that you can’t help but fear what would happen if you were to take that final step to leave it all behind. But you know it’s there don’t you?”

Shame filled her as she found herself unable to particularly answer before he continued, “In the king's perfectly crafted world of order you’re the entropy he fears. The one he’s tried so hard to convince the world never existed and that’s why he hates you for it.” He grinned an expression that had failed to match his words. “If I were your king, I’d be terrified of you.”

“If you were my king, I think I’d be a little more than defiant,” she grumbled, earning herself a rather hearty laugh from the star. 

She hadn’t exactly been joking, but hearing his laughter was a nice change of pace, she’d thought as she smiled in spite of herself. 

“I just don’t understand why you would make it sound like a good thing….” she sighed as his laughter died down.

“Isn’t it?” he smiled. “You’re a far more interesting woman than you think.”

Interesting. That was hardly a step up from amusing in her book. In fact, she wasn’t really sure what to make of it- would it have killed him to call her enchanting or tantalizing?! Eh, given what he’d said about the anti-love rules, probably…

But she couldn’t help but feel as if the star were studying her…for what and why was beyond her…perhaps he was still trying to figure out what to make of her.

‘Him and me both,’ she mentally sighed before wrapping the cloak around herself.

“Still…I can’t just up and leave my family like that…I’ve already given them enough problem as is and besides the culture and history of my family’s past and present is permanently ingrained into these lands….if I went to space with you. I could never come back here…”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

She took a deep breath. 

What was the point of keeping all these secrets from him? If he’d ever had something of an ulterior motive then what could she do to stop him? Yes, she knew in the past she’d kept all those secrets from him out of a sense of shame and possibly responsibility given her…father’s job. But with all that gone, why even bother? He was bound to find out the truth at the fair which she was admittedly in no state to attend. If anything it was better to tell him now, so she could at least prepare him.

“Cepheus there’s something I need to tell you…”

“This kingdom, its monarch and its people…in its infancy, it was believed that when our king gained the power to grant wishes, that it attracted attention from elsewhere and monsters descended from the skies. Monsters that only the king could defeat and keep the wishes safe from….and ever since then nearly everyone in this kingdom has had a negative view of stars…

“A courtesy of the king’s imagination, I guess,” he sighed.

“Yes….” she paused, taking in the distinct lack of surprise look on the star’s face. “did…did you know?”

“I mean, sort of? Yes?” he tentatively shrugged. “But in my defense, Velius’s rambling, the king’s law of power exclusivity, and even the entire concept of the wish gardens leave very little to the imagination.”

“You knew about the wish gardens?!” she exclaimed as she flew to her feet. “How?!”

The star hesitated, nearly looking embarrassed before he admitted, “When I granted Julian’s wish he was still lurking around it.”

She gritted her teeth. “I meant to tell you sooner, I really wanted to, given how deeply ingrained those sentiments were into our culture but I just didn’t know how, not when I was the reason why you’d ever be stuck in a place like this in the first place…”

“You didn’t see them, did you?”

“See what?”

“There are several murals scattered around the kingdom, each depicting a battle the king underwent while protecting Rosas from…you know…so I just wanted to warn you about them in case we see them tomorrow…”

“I see…well…” the star started after a moment or so of silence. “I appreciate the warning Asha…”

She cast him a wary glance, unable to fully make out his expression as he stared at the cloudy skies above. “Maybe you shouldn’t go….”

“And let you roam around a new place with more possible assassination attempts?” he shook his head. “Not likely.”

“Cepheus! Didn’t you hear Velius? OR anything I just said about the kingdom’s culture and viewpoint on stars? Someone knows you’re here in Hamlet and they’re actively looking to find you. Not to mention that The king’s going to be unveiling the final mural soon for this thing he claims is going to be the ‘new era of Rosas’, so if there was ever a time for the nobles and common folk to be completely insufferable about the topic, then it’s now!”

“Final mural?” the star repeated. Now he sounded curious.

“Yeah, he claims it’s depicting the most vicious star he ever fought.”

“Did he say the name of it?”

She shook her head, “No, but come to think of it, none of the stars he’s ever defeated in any of the murals have ever been explicitly named, none save for…Alderamin.”

“Alderamin?” the star snorted. “He told you he beat Alderamin? Did he do it with a straight face or was he crying?”

“Well he didn’t tell us himself, but the royal playwright who usually gets all of his content approved by and tailored to the royal family made a whole musical number and play depicting the ordeal…”

“Was it good?”

“The song was admittedly catchy, yes, but I don’t think it’s going to be a tune you should be eager to listen to.”

“Fair enough!” the star happily beamed to her confusion. “But you know, the more I think about it, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you just so happened to receive an invite the moment I entered your life, do you? I mean the invitation did say that they were looking forward to seeing you and your guest, as in singular and not ‘you and your family’ or ‘you and your guests.’ They’re expecting you to bring someone in particular Asha, and I have a feeling that if you don’t, they’re not going to take too kindly to my absence.”

 Great. So she was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. What was she going to do?! At the rate at which things were going, she’d be lucky if the king banished her before the yearly storms rolled in!

But come to think of it, the star did have a point… The timing was oddly strange as was the wording… The singularity of ‘guest’ did imply specificity. A specificity that most likely was the result of the royal family’s suspicion rearing its terrible head… She hadn’t known just when, how or why they’d put the puzzle together to figure out something was amiss with Cepheus, but now she was more certain than ever that this wouldn’t end well for anyone, excluding the royal family of course.

[testingthewatersss]

Questions Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Oneshot 4800 words fluff, angst, comfort & kissing. 18+ MDNI  Bucky has questions. Questions he's sure she can answer. But she wont, and he thinks he knows why.

“Bucky” Y/N says, “Why are you askin’ me that?”

“Because” he replies, “I can’t ask anyone else.”

The look on his face is sad. She maintains eye contact for a minute before breaking it, averting her gaze to her desk, where she pointedly focuses on a bit of paper that is near enough blank.

“Please, doll?” he presses, “Please, just-”

“What do you want me to say?” she almost snaps, “James, I-”

“Please” he says again, softer this time, “Don’t call me that… Y’know I- I only get James when I’m in trouble.”

When she brings her eyes back to his, she can’t help but sigh, temper retreating like a wave.

“It’s a pretty nice name, y’know” she murmurs, “I don’t know why-”

“-Are you tryin’ to change the subject, darlin’?”

At least his smiling now, even if it’s tight lipped and forced.

She doesn’t deny his statement, just shrugs.

“My point stands” he hears her say, “It’s hardly a mouthful, I don’t know why you hate it so much-”

“I don’t hate it” Bucky counters, “It just reminds me of bein’ yelled at.”

“Have I ever yelled at you?” she quips quickly,

He shakes his head, letting out a slow breath.

“I just want to know” he says quietly, “I can’t just let it go”

“You really want me to tell you wether or not I think you could have gotten away sooner?” she clarifies, “You want me to stand here and tell you if you put up ‘enough of a fight’ in the beginning and then after all that you want me to-”

“make sure the words they put in my head don’t still work” he confirms, “Please, doll, I…I don’t have anyone else I can go to about this kind of stuff, can you imagine Steve’s face if I even tried to bring this up with him?”

For a second, she says nothing. She just stares, trying to read wether or not even considering his line of questioning is a step too far, and then, he reaches out to take hold of her hand and she feels her heart breaking.

“Please…” he whispers thickly, “…I want to know-”

“They’re not easy answers to give” she replies, imploring him to understand, “Bucky, that first question alone isn’t a simple yes or no, there are so many variables, I-”

“You” he mumbles, bringing her knuckles to his lips, “won’t lie to me, darlin’… I trust you, I love you and-”

“I love you to” she counters, “That, is exactly why you comin’ to me like this isn’t fair.”

He’s kissing across her fingers, and all she can do is grumble as she leans back against her desk;

“Do I think you could have gotten away sooner?” she echos, surrounding to his puppy dog eyes, “Physically? probably— They let you carry loaded guns, you were never in particularly bad shape, even if you’d been knocked around a bit— You probably could’ve bolted from a job, or fought your way out if you’d have timed it right, y’know?” he does know, so he nods, gut tightening uneasily, “but-” Y/N says, “just because you might’ve been able to get away, that doesn’t mean you ever stood a chance.”

Bucky feels his face dropping as she lets go of his palm, choosing to tuck her hair behind her ears instead-

“There was a reason they didn’t care about you carrying weapons” she continues, “they knew full well that you weren’t going to try anything, even when given the opportunity.”

He opens his mouth to speak, to ask her to be more decisive in her judgement, but she gets there first, crossing her arms across her chest as she carries on,

“and the reason they trusted that so much” she says, “is because, yes, Bucky, you put up a hell of a fight in the beginning— It wasn’t a one and done where they wiped you and that was that, it took months of them pullin’ you in and out of storage, of them messin’ with the tech, messin’ with you, before they decided that it was just about good enough to move on to any further training, and that, that was just the tip of the iceberg— I mean jesus, weird, torture bullshit, aside, you had at least 3 different trackers active on you— If you’d managed to run they’d have found you eventually. You cut that one out of your neck in Budapest—”

The old scar that’s hidden by his hair aches as she mentions it, and then, as she nods at his arm, he finds himself feeling awfully small,

“—I broke the unit they had in there, that thing was more than just a bug, it was hooked into your nervous system, and-”

“There was always one in the guns”

She nods, in agreement before falling silent again.

It’s a difficult topic to talk about. Y/N hates discussing anything about her own time with HYDRA, but, she still thinks she’d prefer that, to this.

Talking about the horrible things that have happened to the man she loves, seems unfathomably worse, somehow. It’s probably because even though she’d been there in person for the last five years of his time there, she knows that he was there for so long before that.

And then, she’d found herself having to paw through the book he’d brought back with them, having to read, and dissect every insidious detail of his history so that she could make sure that he was okay, now, that he wasn’t in danger—

and that had been bad enough, but, he’d asked her to do it, so she had, but now- now he’s starting to ask questions, and she can’t even be angry at him, because if anyone deserves answers he does.

“I don’t think I remember” he tells her, voice thick, “The beginning it… it’s real hazy—”

“I know” she agrees, smiling a little, “That’s probably a blessin-”

“—But, I think it’s comin’ back” he admits, forcing the words out before he can chicken out, “I- I think it… it might be- some, some of the dreams I’m havin’… It- it’s either not real or it’s just from real early on-”

That silences her. Her lack of interruption only highlights the way that Bucky’s words have drifted off into nothing.

He gulps, and finds himself shifting anxiously on his feet as he awaits her judgment.

She firmly decides to stay quiet. To let him digest what has already been said for a little while longer and to see if he’s going to expand on his own.

“Do you think you could tell me?” he asks eventually, “If… If things really happened or not?”

Again, she lets his question sit for a beat before she offers him a “Maybe” that he doesn’t know how to take.

“Maybe?” he echos, “Wha-”

“I don’t know everything” she tells him carefully, “I probably know enough to make a good guess on the things I’m not certain of, but wether I’d do that would depend on why you’re askin’ in the first place.”

Why I’m asking in the first place? he thinks, confused,

“I mean” she chuckles falsely, “honestly, I still don’t know why you’ve been asking me the questions you’ve already come up with”

“I just” he begins, “I… I want to know-”

“Why?” she presses, “Why, Buck? What does knowing wether or not you could’ve— maybe— in another reality gotten away sooner change? What does me telling you that you definitely fought back when they first started torturing you do? Does it make you feel better? Worse?—”

“No” he admits, “It… it’s not about that… how I feel, I mean”

“No?” Y/N says, “then what is it about, Buck? I get you wantin’ to check about the words— I know I’ve told you a hundred times that I’m sure— but, you wanting to check, to be a million percent certain? That, I can understand, but the rest of it? You’ve gotta help me out-”

“—I’m scared, doll—”

Bucky’s voice, and the blatant sincerity behind it makes her breath catch in her throat.

“—god,” he sighs, “—I’m terrified, I’m terrified that if I don’t ask you, then one day, one day soon you’re gonna start askin’ yourself and you’ll wonder if I, if I don’t care, and then, then I won’t be able to do anythin’ but watch as you realise that I could’ve done better and, you’ll— you’ll hate me, and I- I’ll lose you too, and I won’t be able to say a damn thing because it’ll be exactly what I deserve and, I—”

“-Stop.”

The natural authority in her tone makes his jaw snap shut. Anxiety driven rambling turning into silence;

Silence that Y/N allows to settle for a second as she tries to rationalise everything he’s just said—

“I’m sorry” Bucky offers nervously, running a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry, I- I’ll go— I’ll see you later, or, I, I can just… I can just go-”

“C’mere-” she counters, tone softening when she realises that he really is distraught, “What am I goin’ to do with you, huh?”

Her arms are open in invitation, and despite the way he’d been ready to turn and flee just a moment before, Bucky finds himself hiding against her a front in what feels like no time at all.

“Whatever you want” is the answer he gives to her question, though his words are muffled by the crook of her neck, “you can do whatever you want with me”

She chuckles at that, soft and light as she strokes a large circle across the back of his ribs.

They’re straining, he’s panting, and trying so hard to steady his breathing that she feels guilty about not approaching this in a more tactful way;

“How about we make a deal?” she suggests calmly, “How about, I’ll answer your questions, if you answer a few for me?”

“Okay” he agrees, not pulling away, “I… I can do that”

Y/N smiles, feeling his arms tightening around her waist in a silent display of attachment.

“When did you last sleep for more than fifteen minutes in a row?”

“1935” he grumbles, smiling a little when she laughs, “… probably last week, doll… usually… usually when I pass out I, I see things and I- I come round and I can’t settle again after that”

He’s being so blatantly honest that all Y/N can do is press a kiss against his brow, and wait for him to take his turn;

“.I… I don’t know what to ask”

That makes her chuckle again, eyes rolling even though he can’t see,

“and you had so many questions earlier” she teases gently, “Now I’m offerin’ to answer you can’t think of one?”

“I can think of plenty” he says, “Just don’t know where to start”

“How about” Y/N sighs, “you start with what’s botherin’ you most?”

“That ain’t a question…” he grumbles, “…Do… Do you think I could’ve done more? to, y’know… stop everythin’ that happened?”

“No” she says honestly, “No, Bucky, I don’t think there was anything you could’ve done to stop any part of what happened.”

“But, I-”

“You wanted an answer” she cuts in, “Not a debate, now it’s my turn.”

She’s right, so he nods, settling back into an unhappy silence,

“Do you really think that I’m going to suddenly wake up one morning and realise something that makes me ‘hate’ you?”

“Yes” he gulps anxiously, “Yeah”

She doesn’t say anything else. His reply just sits in her chest like a lead weight, as he continues to hide himself against her front,

“Do you?” he asks after a pause, “Do- Do you think that you might… do, do that?”

“No” she says, “Of course not—I could never hate you, Bucky”

“but-”

This time, she barely has to tut before he catches himself and swallows his objection,

“Do you believe me when I tell you that I love you?”

“…Yeah…” he says honestly, “…yeah I do, I- I just don’t understand how you could… or, or why you ever would…”

“Isn’t that up to me?”

“It’s not your turn, doll”

She scoffs at that, but doesn’t argue.

“Why do you?” Bucky asks next, “Why do you love me? after… after everything”

That’s a sad question really, but still Y/N feels a smile blooming across her face as she starts to consider every single reason she has; and then, it falters when she realises that putting them into words might be a problem,

“Christ, Buck, you’re not makin’ this easy on me…” she murmurs, “There are so many reasons… You’re kind, and sweet— you’re so, so sweet, and you make me laugh, you’ve always made me laugh, and, I- I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as brave, or gentle as you are…”

It’s so clear that he needs to hear her kind words that she suddenly can’t bare the thought of stopping,

“You’re thoughtful” she says next, “You’re smart— brilliant, really, without even havin’ to try— you’re… you’re just so good, y’know?… You’re a truly good person, down to your core, and I know that you always try and do the right thing, and see that goodness in other people, even when it’s not there—”

“But the things I-”

“You” she cuts in, not wanting to even hear his argument, “didn’t do a damn thing wrong. This whole thing was always bigger than you, but it's fair that you miss that sometimes.”

He does. He misses it all the time;

“But everything that happened” he mumbles, “all those people are dead because of me”

Y/N shakes her head, chest aching.

“No” she says, “those people are dead because HYDRA decided they needed to die— You just happened to be the weapon they liked using most at the time.”

He doesn’t reply, he just nuzzles in impossibly closer to her front as she lets her chin rest against the top of his bowed head.

“My turn again, huh?” she murmurs, “…How long have you spent worryin’ about all this?”

“all this?” he echos, uncertain of her meaning, “I… I’ve always been worried ‘bout you realisin’ that you deserve better than me, doll, that- that’s not new.”

“It’s ridiculous” she counters, “You deserve the world— but I mean this, specifically— How long have you been worrin’ about talkin’ to me about things you’re remembering just incase it makes me realise that you’re actually some evil monster and-"

“Ever since you wouldn’t answer me the first time” he confesses, “when I asked you about… about if you thought I could’ve done more to get away, and you wouldn’t tell me I… I figured it was because you knew deep down that I… I should’ve done better and I… I tried to stop thinkin’ about it like you said but it… it kept eatin’ at me, and the more I asked—”

“The more I didn’t want to answer, and the more likely the whole thing seemed.”

He nods against her shoulder, and she can’t help but press a kiss into his hair,

“I didn’t mean to annoy ya’, darlin’…” he says, “I, I really didn’t but I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop thinking about it, when you, when you wouldn’t tell me what you thought I was sure there had to be a reason…”

“I’m sorry” she says honestly, “I didn’t think you’d take it that way, I should’ve been clearer about why I didn’t want to talk about it”

“Why didn’t you?” he asks, “Answer, I mean? I… I’ve asked you things before and you… you’ve always answered me”

“Because” Y/N sighs, “I know you, and I know how easy it is for you to blame yourself for situations you had no control over… You do it all the time, and I love you, Buck… I love you and seeing you be so hard on yourself is bad enough without me piling on hypothetical situations that could only ever make it worse”

For a few seconds, there’s silence. Bucky’s arms are still tight around her waist and if she tries, she can feel his pulse rushing anxiously through his body,

“I know you forget that nothing that happened was down to you” she allows, “and I don’t mind reminding you— I really don’t, but, I really don't want to start goin’ into all the different ‘what if scenarios’ that you’re mind can cook up, because that… that’s a hell of a box to open”

“It feels like it was…” he tells her weakly, “It feels like it was all my fault, doll, all of it, it… it’s like I should’ve stopped it somehow, like— like I… like I could’ve just woken up and, and made myself not-”

“But you couldn’t” she inserts, “Sweetheart, you couldn’t just wake up, and even if you had? If by some, bizarre twist of fate you’d have been able to snap out of it and fight back? They’d have just started from scratch, either with you, if they could bring you back in, or with someone else, if they’d have just decided to kill you instead.”

“Do you think I could’ve made them do that?” he wonders, “Kill me, I mean?”

“Is it your turn?” Y/N asks, trying to lighten the atmosphere, “I’ve lost count”

“I don’t know” he mumbles, “I hope so”

She chuckles at that, shaking her head,

“No” she says, “I don’t think there is anything you could’ve done that would’ve made them kill you— not when finding you in the first place was like striking gold in a coal mine.”

“Can I ask what you mean by that, or do I have to wait?”

Y/N laughs again, soft and airy as she pulls back a little so that he can finally pull back and reveal his face.

“You are a good person” she tells him, reaching up to cup his cheek, “Really, Buck— You’re good, all the way through— It’s why they had to keep you, because that kind of genuine goodness isn’t somethin’ that you find often. The serum proved that there wasn’t a bad bone in your body, it magnifies everything it touches, you know about ‘Red Skull’— you know what putting that stuff into someone who’s not decent can do, so… you landing right in their laps, already dosed up and ready to go? that was something that was never going to happen again”

He’s starring at her, hanging on every word she’s saying, so, instead of waiting for him to ask her to expand, she just sighs, brushing her thumb under his eyes.

“You can’t torture evil out of somebody” she says, “no amount of pain or electricity can make a person better, so, even if they had managed to get a never ending supply of the serum, it never would’ve worked out because they’d have still needed subjects who didn’t have an ounce of malice in them, who didn’t want to be powerful, or dangerous, or anything other than decent and I think even they knew that wasn’t going to happen, and that… that’s why they spent so long making sure they kept you how they wanted, and that's why all of those other Winter Solider's never got more than a few hours out of tank at a time. They had no idea what might start to happen.”

“So if I… if I had made them kill me, then they… they wouldn’t have been able to-”

He sounds so genuinely guilty that all Y/N can do is continue stroking his face as she shakes her head, again;

“I don’t think they would’ve ever just killed you, and if they had? or if something had happened out of their control? Then they wouldn’t have given up— They’d have gone through thousands of people trying to find one that worked to replace you.”

Bucky’s brow is furrowed, both his hands still around the back of her waist. He doesn’t want to let go, he wants to stay close, and despite the way he’s trying to not be so obvious about his need for skin on skin, he knows that he’s pressing his cheek into her palm;

“I know it didn’t feel like it” she murmurs, “but they were real careful with you, sweetheart— They spent so much time in the beginning making sure that their tech worked- tailoring it to you, y’know? and makin’ sure that everything from the fall was patched up so that even when they hurt you your heart was never going to give out or anything like that”

“In the beginning…” he parrots, “…later on, when… when I’d been there a while, did… did the tech stop workin’? is, is that why I, why I…”

“No” she whispers softly, “The tech worked how it always did, they just didn’t factor in the fact that you were going to be off ice so much”

He blinks, confused and she can’t help but smile,

“They called them wipes” he hears Y/N explain, “but that’s not what they were, you can’t just erase somebodies personality, not with all the electricity and torture in the world… all you can do, is make someone obedient, you can make good men do bad things, and sometimes if you’re trying really hard you can alter the conscious mind— you can make it so someone can’t fathom fighting back, or questioning what you’ve convinced them is reality, but even that doesn’t last indefinitely— it needs maintenance, y’know? upkeep, because human minds aren’t hard drives that can be reset whenever someone feels like it.”

“They’d… they’d say I was unstable…” he recalls, “..Like when… when I saw Steve on the bridge I- I didn’t understand but I- I knew, that… that I he knew me and they… they wiped me straight away-”

“Well yeah” she chuckles grimly, “They couldn’t let something that major slide”

“and when I’d was bein’ brought out of storage they’d.. they’d usually bring me right to the chair?”

That’s definitely a question, Y/N can tell by the unsure quirk in his voice.

“Yeah, baby” she confirms, “that’s right”

“I… I hated that chair, I- I still… god, I- I still dream about it sometimes… even, even just the door to the room it was in, I, I see myself walking towards it, I- I feel the way my heart is racing…”

“Nobody” she whispers, “Nobody is ever, ever, going to hurt you like that again, you know that, right?”

The nod he gives her is a reflex. He’s so used to agreeing to statements like that, that it’s automatic, and it’s only when he meets Y/N’s gaze that he takes a second to consider wether or not it’s truthful;

“I forget, sometimes” he allows, “but, I trust you, and I know it’s safe here”

She seems to like that, she smiles and brings her fingers back across his cheek, stroking his face like he’s precious,

“It’s very safe…” she agrees, “…You, are very safe.”

“I’m sorry, doll”

That takes her by surprise. She’s not sure where his apology has come from, and she’s already shaking her head to refute it when he starts speaking again,

“I didn’t mean to force you to talk about all of this, I- I know you didn’t want to answer me and I, I should’ve just respected—”

“You can always talk to me” she counters, “about anything— anything at all, Bucky- I just want to make sure that we’re not makin’ you feel worse, not if we can help it.”

He nods, and presses a kiss against the pad of her thumb.

“What would you like to do now, huh?” Y/N asks gently, “we can do whatever you feel like.”

Bucky stays quiet for a beat, working up the courage to make his suggestion,

He already knows what he wants to do, he just don’t know if asking her to do it is pushing his luck, considering how she’s indulged him so much already;

“Could… could you try the… the words?” he asks eventually, “Please? just so, so I know…”

Her instinct is to refuse. To delay for right now, if not forever, but then she sees his face, she sees the need, and longing and, and then she finds herself nodding, even though she’s not sure quite when she decided to say yes.

“C’mere” she murmurs, “Close your eyes for me— FRIDAY, lock us in for right now.”

Bucky does as he’s told, slipping his hands into her back pockets as the room dissolves into blackness.

“Ready?” she checks- he nods, nervously, so she leans in and presses a kiss against his brow, “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop.”

He knows what kind of pain she means, so he nods, bracing himself to feel his head burning, to feel incredible, pulsing pressure building inside his skull—

“Semnadtsat’… Rzhavyye…. Dozhd’…” her soft voice begins, slow and stable as ever, “…Pustyye…. Nad…. Vnevremennyye….”

He’s tense, and shaking.

He’s honestly, totally ready for something terrible to happen, for his whole brain to collapse inwards as he loses his grip on… on everything other than pain and whatever instructions he’s given— He finds himself thinking about how even if that did happen, at least it’s Y/N he’s with, at least she won’t make him do anything terrible— He’s about to tell her how grateful he is, that she’s always been so good to him, but then, he realises it’s over, she’s not talking anymore, and all he can hear is the violent, panicked thrash of his pulse in his ears.

“See?” Y/N says, almost smugly, “I told you…Nothin’…”

“Ready to comply” Bucky says, aiming for an impression of his former self, "gotov podchinit’sya”

“Oh yeah?” she laughs, pressing her lips against the corner of his mouth, “You gonna do what I tell ya’ for once?”

“Maybe” he mumbles, trying earnestly to coax another kiss from her, “depends on if I'd wind up regretting it later”

“You are full of shit, Barnes—” she chuckles, teasing him with the promise of more affection by letting her nose bump against his, “Have I ever asked you to do anythin’ you’d regret?”

“No” he promises quickly, “No, doll I- I’m just teasin’…”

“Good” she purrs, pecking at his cheek before pulling him closer, so their fronts are touching, “Do you feel better now that’s cleared up?”

He nods, feeling himself blushing.

“Yeah, I- I do, doll”

“Good” she says again, “I’m glad, sweetheart— Did you feel anythin’?”

Her hands are on his cheeks, now— both of them, cupping his jaw as her thumbs brush across his temples.

“No” he whispers, feeling incredible vulnerable under her consideration, “I was… I was nervous, but- but it didn’t feel like I thought it might…”

“It’s been awhile” she says, “If we’d have tried it a couple of weeks ago you might’ve ended up with a migraine, but, I think you’re so far out now that anxiety is the worst you’ll come away with.”

She doesn’t want to downplay that, anxiety is still more than he deserves, but given the situation, it’s definitely better than the alternatives.

“Thank you” he mumbles, head lolling over to the side as she starts to card his hair back, “Doll, for… for humourin’ me with all if this…”

“I think I'm indulging more than humouring” she corrects lightly, “but it's fine, next time you feel like playin' 20 questions just give me a heads up, this version made it impossible to cheat”

Masterlist

[thelampisaflashlight]

*sitting cross legged on your floor and hands you a cup of tea*

The ghouls working in agriculture/farm and ranch supply

Mountain is your seed agronomist/soil sciences expert. He's gonna tell you exactly what type of grass mix you want and when to plant it. You want to plant orchard grass in a fast draining sandy soil? No ma'am you need something hardier than that.

Dew and Swiss are in the back working the loading bay and the forklifts. Dew got teased and shit on for being so small and not being strong enough until he loaded an entire trailer bed with alfalfa bales by hand.

Rain is your irrigation expert. He can definitely tell you if you need center pivot irrigation or if you can get away with wheel lines. For the love of God, don't talk to him about over watering your lawn. Conserve water dammit!

Phantom is the new associate they put in charge of the rabbits, ducks and chicks during Chick Days. He's so sweet with them but he's had to be told multiple times that no, the kids cannot reach in to hold the animals.

Aether is in charge of the animal husbandry/veterinary supply section. He also helps with the quarterly spay/neuter pop up clinics that they host in the store.

Cumulus and Sunshine are in charge of the clothing section. They can tell you for sure what brands are more affordable but still just has sturdy as Carhartt. And no, that cut of boot cut jeans does not work for your body shape but we will find you something that makes you feel great and your ass look fabulous.

Aurora is in charge of the nursery section. Her plants are the healthiest and come with a life guarantee. She and Mountain work...very close together.

Cirrus is the store manager. She's fair, she runs a tight ship, but you better be respectful to her employees or she will ban your ass.

*takes the tea and slides you a plate of pastries*

Dew getting teased/people not thinking he's strong enough to do his job is highkey relatable, but also him hauling ass and getting shit done is very satisfying. (I have The Ballad of Smokin' Joe Rudeboy by Tom Cardy stuck in my head, and you just have to imagine Dew flipping Swiss off on the truck.)

He's probably also had to answer the question, "Is this first cut or second cut hay?" but no one has told him, and, hell, it could be third cut his late in the season-

His intuits it, and he's always right.

Also the image of Aether helping with the pop up clinics; How many times has he looked at the other guys passing by and joked, "That one's not up on his rabies shot, so look out!" and it's Mountain, who's busy carrying flowerpots, so he nudges Aurora to flip him off for him.

I feel like they all wind up dirty somehow, it just happens, but it's a gradient of filth.

On that note, today's one of my long day at the barn; It's seed restock day.

[pure-garbage]

A Chilly Invitation? Definitely Not A Medic

Chapter Warnings: Light Gore

"So? What's the verdict?"

Zoro presented his ankles expectantly.

"I keep telling you, I'm not a doctor," Lana sighed.

"You don't have to give a disclaimer every time," Zoro groaned. There were few things that got under his skin as quickly as a lack of conviction.

"Sure. What am I looking for here?"

"Are the stitches ready to come out?" he pressed impatiently.

"They have to come out?!"

"Yeah..."

"I guess that makes sense. They're just regular thread."

'I shouldn't have let myself get roped into sewing him up in the first place,' Lana moaned internally, sweating a little as she tried to imagine what removing stitches might entail. 'Maybe with a seam-ripper? Will they just pull out easily?'

"So, uh.... how can you tell if they're ready, exactly?" she asked.

"You mean you don't know?"

"Why would that be surprising to you? How many times do I have to say it?"

"If you say it again I'm gonna cut you."

"You're so mean."

"And you're starting to get on my nerves. Just take the stitches out."

"Fine, I'll go get Nami's sewing kit," Lana conceded. Part of her wanted to tell him to do it himself, but she was still grateful for the way he'd helped her with Corrin. She felt like she owed him at least this much.

'I guess this is what it means to be part of a crew, as opposed to being held captive by one. I need to do my part, even if that means mending a lot of clothes and playing doctor until Luffy gets around to recruiting an actual, honest-to-god doctor. God, please, don't let that take too much longer.'

"Huh? Sewing kit?" Zoro parroted, brow knit with confusion. "I need you to take them out, not put more in."

"Just bear with me, I have an idea."

Lana returned with the box, dug through it and produced a small tool. Zoro frowned when he saw it.

"I've had my fair share of stitches go in and come out," he grumbled. "But I've never seen that before. What is that?"

"Seamripper," Lana shrugged. "Is it the right tool for the job? Probably not. But this is what I've got. We gonna do this?"

"Let's go."

Lana set to the task of severing the stitches, pulling thread from flesh as she went. The sensation was sickening, even from her perspective, but Zoro didn't flinch or squirm, so neither did she.

"At least your feet don't smell as bad this time," she observed idly.

"They didn't smell that bad last time."

"Oh, please."

It turned out that removing stitches took a lot less time than putting them in. Whether Lana had done it anywhere close to correctly was an open question, but she felt a distinct sense of satisfaction with her work regardless. Tiny droplets of blood pricked up around Zoro's gashes where she'd pulled the threads out, but the fresh scars over the cuts showed no signs of reopening. Lana poked them experimentally.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked curiously.

"Sure."

"But not a lot?"

"About as much as you'd expect."

"Uugghh."

"Now I can finally get back to serious training," Zoro grinned. "That modified routine was boring me to death."

"Sure," Lana said dubiously. She'd seen the modified training Zoro was so bored by. She didn't understand how anyone could be bored with something so rigorous.

"And I've got the perfect way to ease back into it," he went on.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"I think I'll do a bit of winter swimming."

"Uh..."

"It'll be great," he continued enthusiastically. "I'll build endurance and suppress my self."

"Er..."

Lana clutched her jacket tighter, shivering at the thought.

'Maybe he's trying to be funny.'

Zoro wasn't joking. He started stripping, dropping clothes to the deck in a growing pile as a piercing wind howled past, rocking the ship.

"Do you... go ice-swimming often?" Lana managed, apprehension filling her.

"First time. I bet it's gonna be a lot of fun though!"

"Wow, you and Luffy really are just two peas in a pod," she muttered. 'Idiot peas in a crazy pod.'

"You wanna come along, Lana?"

"Uh..."

Strangely, Lana caught herself feeling tempted to take him up on it, despite the unappealing prospect of diving into the frigid water. Zoro's wide grin was full enthusiasm and invitation, hands on his hips in a pose that defied the bite of frost in the air. Embarrassingly, she couldn't stop her eyes from raking over his tight, muscular figure, pert nipples peaking in the cold. This wasn't the first time she'd seen him bare-chested, but she'd intentionally avoided looking too closely before.

'Damn, the man is in fine shape!' she thought reflexively.

"Oh, I... thanks, but I'd better not. I'd probably pass out from freezing, and then you'd have to fish me out and... and... yeah, that wouldn't be... any good."

As the worst-case scenario slowly played out in Lana's head, her words faltered and her breath hitched a bit. The thought of those strong arms wrapping around her body brought a deep blush to her cheeks.

'Maybe there would be resuscitation involved... oh god, I should walk it back and go with him!'

"Suit yourself," Zoro said, oblivious to Lana's internal crisis. "Keep an eye on the ship til I get back, would ya? Pay attention this time, don't let us get boarded."

Zoro leaped over the rail while Lana pouted, mourning her lack of foresight.

"Idiot!" she berated herself, slapping her palm to her forehead at the missed opportunity. "Probably for the best though... actually, if I'm being practical... I should probably try to avoid being attracted to the people on my crew. Yeah, that could get awkward really fast. Don't want that. Yep. Good Lana. Great work."

She gave herself a big thumbs up, then shivered violently.

"I can watched the ship just fine from in the cabin. After all, I've barely made a dent in that pile and stuff just keeps getting added onto it."

_____________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[deardesmond]

Dear Desmond,

Hi. I know this is probably awkward, I usually don't send letters like this. Or any letters for that matter, nowadays. But, since I was able to greet all the other new villagers, and you're my new coworker, it only seems fair.

So, welcome to Maple Leaf! I'm Cy, the Resident Representative, pleased to meet your acquaintance. My job is to essentially ensure life on this island is as comfortable as it can be for everyone living here. Meaning I focus on helping out villagers and renovating the island to make it more habitable overall.

I must confess, I'm a newbie to my job. I was given it because I was the only one qualified at the time, and, according to some, I've made good decisions so far. I managed to move in all the citizens you see now, and introduced the store, town hall, and museum to the island. The last two are your reason for being here, as far as I understand, so, I look forward to working together!

It may seem like a lot at first, but, we have a good community behind us and everyone is working together to make this the best experience we can. So if you need anything, or if your housing isn't to your liking, just please let me know. Don't forget to take the time to relax once in a while, this really is a lovely place.

Sincerely, Cy.

Dear coworker,

Don't concern yourself with this supposed "awkwardness". I've never felt more welcome than I did moving here. I appreciate you addressing me directly. I've heard great things about you and, if I'm being honest, I was a little nervous to meet you. This lessens the blow.

I'm Desmond, as you already know. My job will be to oversee the more technical side of things. But, to make a long story short, I'll be dealing with all your paperwork from now on. I admire what you're all doing here, and I'm certain this island's successes are in no small part thanks to you.

I must confess, I'm one as well! That is to say, while I have worked in this line of work in the past, I've never done it on such a large scale. There's no need to list off your accomplishments, I've already read about them, and been told the stories by many of the staff here. You're a local celebrity of sorts, you should be proud.

I don't doubt that, and I look forward to working with everyone. Please, feel free to come to me as well with any help you need. We're coworkers now, we should look out for each other. And don't worry, I certainly will.

Love, Desmond

------------------------------------------------------------

Desmond pulled away his paws from the typewriter, bringing them up to rest his chin. His tail swirled behind him as he considered...all of this. He was sitting at his desk in a wooden though mostly unfurnished room. Boxes lined the walls, yet to be unpacked, let alone touched. He didn't have much, but still. When one traveled so much over the years some items just stuck.

It was so much pressure, to put on one animal. Keeping others happy, his many jobs in service had taught him that wasn't as simple as one thought. Especially when it came to something as personal as someone's hometown, island in this case. Others were quick to turn and become defensive in those cases.

They felt their very homes and livelihoods were under attack. He could only imagine attempting to run a whole society of sorts encouraged that more. It wasn't as if the people here could pack up and leave so easily.

He adjusted his glasses with the wiggle of his nose. Yet, no one so far had given him that impression. When he mentioned the name Cy, there were no eye rolls, no stuck up snouts, nor subtle comments with hidden mesnings. He looked out the window, pastel blue curtains shifting in the wind as its doors lay open. The early morning sunlight was shining through and, outside, as far as the eye could see were trees. He tilted his head and let his ears fall to the side as he inspected the sunspot on the floor with narrowed eyes.

He was a long way from the city.

He carefully took the paper off the typewriter and starting folding it up. He had an envelope prepared just to the side. It had been sitting there for a while now, Cy's address fully written out. He kept it in the opposite corner of where he sat his coffee always, just in case. He could smell the rich, brewed beans from here. A gift from his father as a moving in present. It was the best he'd ever gotten and he took that as a sign.

To think he'd really been all that frightened of someone who clearly just got in over their head... that'd be him soon too.

Well, he though as he let out a huff, blowing past his whiskers, at least it will be something to talk about with him. He finished, ensuring the paper's folds were neat before finishing. We're set out to be good friends already. We have so much in common, after all.

With a sigh and a slight smile, he put the folded paper in the envelope. So it begins.

[vulpine111]

I just woke up and this is something that comes back to haunt me a lot, still. (Even years later.)

I remember while I was recovering from living in and out of wards at the mental home, I was out of it to the extent I had an unrealistic idea of when I'd die. This was due to an HPV diagnosis and a biopsy where they found abnormal cells. I wasn't sure if I would die while under anesthesia for the procedure to burn off the start of cervical cancer or how good my kidneys still were after prior attempts to end it all.

It can also take years to fully bounce back from the level of psychosis I suffered. I was still low-key psychotic at that place because the meds they had me on were sub par and my dad was trying to say I'm not "allowed" to advocate for myself and try something that might work better.

Due to fear/anxiety, I asked one of my then friends something rather rude. Basically, if I could stay with her. I didn't think it would be for long either. I just needed someone to agree that their address was where I was headed to prevent the mental home from filling out a missing person's report. I didn't want to just rot there.

It was an inappropriate question which I am wholeheartedly sorry for, but I still don't understand why she took it muchly out of context and cut ties with me. She went a step further to insult me and my character before doing it too.

I was dealing with a lot of emotional abuse from my parents at the time. My mother fed into my fears. When I explained I wanted to be buried here in New Mexico, she said I "wasn't coming home." I was going to be cremated and sent to some plot she owns in Ohio because I'm not even worth the cost or time a proper funeral entails.

In such a vulnerable state, I don't know how to fully explain how much it messed with my head to be treated like some irredeemable, worthless monster who doesn't truly care for anyone or even deserve the courtesy of having my remains handled as I wish.

I do care about other people. I care about everyone at least a little bit. Even people I don't understand.

When I'm psychotic, I don't, though! Why? Cuz I ain't there! I wish people wouldn't take it personally, but it can be hard not to if you've never been mentally compromised, I suppose. I basically just didn't have the "room" to care.

The capacity. The bandwidth. Whatever you want to call it. It wasn't there because I was depleted from my brain doing what it does instead of work the way it's supposed to.

I understand (to outsiders) psychosis is disturbing to deal with over the years, but imagine how it must feel for the person going through it. I tried to explain all this to her, but she wouldn't hear me.

She said, "Psychosis sucks but it isn't a reason to be nice to you."

As if we schizophrenics are sub-human and less worthy of compassion. It still hurts, okay? It hurts. It hurts I was dismissed about something I can't even help and am doing my best to manage. Psychosis doesn't just "suck." It's devastating.

Many people still demonize and stigmatize me for what I've been through even though they wouldn't last one day in my shoes and I'm just tired. Sometimes, the grief eats at me and I cry.

It's a huge burden to carry and I don't comprehend why God gave it to me while depriving me of what I hoped to have by now.

Some people are lucky. Their lives are full. I wish my life was like theirs. They have careers, partners, homes, pets, and other blessings I wish I had. This friend who dropped me is way more fortunate than I've ever been.

She has a family. A husband. A house. An education. A job and the ability to hold that job. She's appreciated and loved in ways I probably never will be.

The least she could have done was be there for me while I try and pick up the pieces of my shattered psyche, but after a while, people get sick of tolerating the poor pathetic mental patient.

I wish God had dealt me a better hand.

It's not fair.

[alltheotherblogs]

It's hard to write some times.

I was writing a few short stories, writing a book, doing creative writing... Yeah, I do a lot of writing. Probably too much. Sometimes I get stumped, or in a slump, sometimes I just don't want to write a specific story and I get sidetracked with another. Polluting a story with too many themes is a recipe to a bad book. I just wish it was easier to drink a cup of coffee, and get writing consistently.

Dead Poet Society, fantastic film. I was writing a story about a school which doubled as a prison for children deemed dangerous, where the principal was a lumbering giant monster who would kill students that broke rules. It's a fun sci-fi fantasy about the horrors of being forced into a system that doesn't work, which damages the kids, and traumatizes those who actually survive it. My thoughts on the school system aren't exactly secret, 1) School is a scam. 2) School teaches you nothing. 3) It's a broken system where everybody loses, especially the children.

Of course I never went to school. I have no regrets, I got my entire high school education done in three months, and I don't remember a single lick of the useless knowledge it imparted upon me. I've always been quite the firecracker, and from the stories I have heard about school, I don't think it's the right place for me. Let me just say, a lot of people would be very hurt, and rightfully so. I could get darker with this but I'll avoid that. To say that school actually helps anyone is nothing but a lie fabricated by greedy corrupt fools. More self-teaching programs less regulations that make it difficult to actually LEARN anything.

Back to writing. I am constantly having tons and tons of ideas, but they don't all mesh into the same thing... It makes me wonder, what if I could channel that into something? Could you imagine how many books I could write in a week?! If each idea was coherent and cohesive to the previous, I'd have a bookshelf full of my own work. As of right now, I can't even finish one book before thinking "Hey this would be a cool idea." Makes me think I should just write a book of short stories and try to get that published, and if that works, I'll actually put my mind to writing a full book. I can easily imagine writing as a job, writing book after book like Steven King or R.L. Stein. I've had those creative kicks where everything makes sense and it flows. But I never had them about my writing, it has always been something stupid...

Some say that knowledge is something sat in your lap. Some say it is something that you never have. Wise lyrics from a clever lady. I relate to this song quite a bit, because right when I have the flow and I think I'm ready to write ten chapters in a row! ... Everything crumbles. I want to do a lot of things in my life, I'll never get to do most of those things, just by virtue of not being qualified and having to do other things first. Not only that but my life circumstances are quite grim. I wasn't exactly given a fair lot, and I now live in a time where being an adult feels helpless and most of us cannot afford housing or vehicles. Thanks, I know exactly who I blame, I know exactly why I blame them, they are all incompetent and corrupt. Hint, it's the United States government.

Can you tell that I don't like the government yet? I'm very much against all modern politics to be honest. They not only bore but appall me. The fact that most people are ignorant to the things they vote on makes me sick. That never would've been the case hundreds of years ago, in places like Ancient Greece. Imagine an entire group of people who are terrified of a boogieman, and they call to outright ban it because they are scared of it, but in fact this boogieman is only a puppet and cannot act on it's own, has no sentience, and the boogieman isn't half the things that people are being told it is. Not only that! But there are more of this boogieman, and the cartel has millions of them, which obviously they aren't going to get rid of. Meanwhile gangs have just about as much, and organized criminals find it very easy to just ship in these boogiemen from out of the country, resulting in only law abiding citizens (The people who weren't causing any trouble in the first place) to lack protection against the actual monsters who use these boogiemen. I'm talking about guns. Guns and politics don't mix, just let everyone have them, it's their right regardless of what you'd like. And no, you can't limit what a civilian can have, track it, or anything. Seriously, it doesn't work, we've proved it doesn't work. MAYBE some times tracking firearms works, but rarely... We often forget that criminals aren't as stupid as the government. It's like watching the Road Runner cartoon, criminals are road runner, the government is Wile E coyote.

This post was originally about writing.

I have a few OC's in the continuity of this perpetual canon I'm always adding to. I like to play lots of different characters and improvise what they'd do in situations, so I've kind of ended up with more than a hundred misc. OC's that are getting difficult to fully keep track of. I'd like to apply each of these characters to their own story... But I'll be damned if that isn't going to be a herculean feat. It's like having a bunch of kids and not wanting to play favorites, but the fact is some of them just aren't success material. You know, one of them actually is a corrupt politician...

In summary. I'm finding it hard to keep writing even though I love writing so much! What makes it all worse is that I know if life would just take a break from beating the shit out of me, I'd actually be able focus and write. I have all these problems that limit me from being fully ME. And none of it is my fault, I can't control any of it. I have to go day by day reminding myself that it isn't my fault that these years of my life are being stolen from me. I'm sure many can relate.

[ironstrange1991]

Lazy Day

+18 Smut / Fluffy

Pairing: Defender!Strange x Fem!Reader (Established relationship)

Synopsis: Stephen decides he needs to spend more time with the reader and make up for being such a busy man.

Warnings: Sexual content: Oral sex (Male receiving), Masturbation (Both receiving), Slight female dominance, Choking, P in V.

Word Count: 2,700k

A/N: Super fluffly and super smutty. Defender Strange being a sub just the way we like him to be. Same pair from Let Me Take Care of You and Give Me Some Attention.

As usual I would like to remind you that english is not my first language so this will probably have some grammatical mistakes here and there but I hope it doesnt spoil your experience.

----------------------------

It was Saturday and Stephen promised to spend the day with you. Wong agreed to take care of things for a day and as everything went smoothly, he gave in to your request. He knew your complaints that he was working too much and spending too little time with you were fair. Sometimes he felt guilty, but his responsibilities as Sorcerer Supreme weren't like any other job he could just take a vacation from.

You understood that. Your complaints were more because you missed him than because you were angry with him. You were almost never mad at Stephen, at least not really.

You admired him. You admired his work. You admired how amazing he was at everything. Could it be him being a super powerful sorcerer and protector of reality or simply a great cook and poetry reciter. Everything Stephen did was masterfully and that was beyond many things, super sexy.

Stephen wasn't in bed when you woke up. Of course, he was used to waking up very early and past 9am you'd imagine he was already freaking out from the idle time. Maybe he even slipped into the Sanctum while you slept to make sure everything was all right. You got up stretching and after brushing your teeth and doing your morning skincare ritual, you went downstairs after him.

You weren't surprised when you found him in the kitchen making breakfast. Without making a sound, you leaned your head against the doorframe and stood there for a second watching him.

He wore sweatpants, was barefoot and shirtless. His hair was tied up in a bun, a few strands falling over his face. You sighed thinking that no man in the world could be more handsome than your Stephen.

"I know what you're doing"

He said, his voice a little huskier than usual.

“I'm just admiring the view.”

You said walking to him and hugging him from behind, standing on tiptoe to place a kiss on his shoulder.

“Good morning to you too” He chuckled turning off the heat after frying the last pancake. He had cooked eggs and bacon too.

  “What have I done to deserve you, Defender Strange?”

He turned to face you and held your face in his hands

“I ask the same question every day.”

 He kissed your lips and it was so easy to get lost in those lips. Soon, what was just a good morning kiss became a wet, passionate kiss.

He walked away “Your breakfast will get cold.”

You smiled and helped him set the table. The two of you ate together and you found yourself thinking you had no idea when was the last time you had breakfast with Stephen. He always woke up before you, even on weekdays, when you woke up to go to work he was already gone and on weekends you could stay in bed late, he always had a reason to get up early, always something or someone who needed his attention.

“So, what are the plans for today?” You asked and he smiled.

“No plans. I am all yours. What do you want to do?”

You thought for a moment “Watch Netflix, maybe.”

He raised an eyebrow as he picked up the plates and cups

“I thought you might want to go out.”

You sighed watching him put the dishes in the dishwasher and organize everything. How could he be so perfect even in housework?

You looked out the window “It's raining! I just want to cuddle with you on the couch without worrying about anything else. That's my idea of ​​a perfect day.”

“No sex?” He asked coming towards you and pulling you out of the chair, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Maybe, if you behave and deserve it” You replied with a smirk.

He kissed your cheek and deliberately rubbed his beard on your neck making you shiver

“Or maybe I better not behave so you have to punish me.”

You bit your bottom lip “You're such a sub sometimes.”

He smirked  “Just for you. You know what you do to me.”

“Well, I'm not complaining.” You kissed his lips, but this time you were the one who pulled away.

Convincing Stephen to watch your shows with you was a Herculean task. First, because he never had time to watch anything and when he did find time, he complained about whatever you chose.

Perfect as he was, still Stephen had a knack for pissing you off at times and you wanted to kill him when he pointed out flaws in a movie or series you liked, but as surprising as it was, he wasn't opposed to watching Stranger Things with you and soon the two of you were cuddled lying on the couch.

He positioned himself behind you with his arm tight around your waist, his leg entwined in yours. You held his hand, lacing your fingers through his, caressing and tracing the scars lightly. You didn't even realize you were doing that, but he noticed that you had a special affection for his hands and in the begining that made him uncomfortable, his hands were his weakness, but after a while he understood that that was your way of showing love for them.

Stephen was always amazed at how you could get lost in stories like that. He actually thought it was cute, although he had no interest in it at all, but seeing you jump in fright or put your hand to your mouth in surprise at some event on screen made him laugh, not at you, but for you. In a life as troubled as his, with so many responsibilities, where one mistake could mean the death of countless lives, you brought lightness to him. Moments like that kept him sane.

You were the bridge that took him to normality and as much as he thought he had given up on that when he became a master of the mystic arts and later Sorcerer Supreme, he realized how much he needed that normalcy when he met you. However, that didn't change the fact that he was bored by all that story.

Without holding back, he started kissing your shoulder, his lips moving up your neck and making you shiver. He made it a challenge: how much effort would it take to make you lose interest altogether and become interested in other forms of entertainment he could gladly offer you? He freed his hand from yours and caressed your side lightly over the pajamas you were wearing and lightly bit your ear, rubbing the beard on your neck. He knew it always worked for you and he smiled with satisfaction when you shivered at the touch.

“Stephen... I know what you're doing”

He hummed innocently and went back to rubbing his beard on you, his hand moving down your thigh and squeezing gently. You kept staring at the TV so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you give in so easily, but you were hardly paying attention to the events unfolding on the screen.

He lowered his hand caressing your ass and continued lowering it getting inside your shorts. He used the leg that was between yours to force you open wider and he caressed that warm and velvet spot over your panties. He buried his face between your neck and your shoulders and bit lightly and you sighed making an adorable noise that made his cock throb.

By then he was totally hard and made sure you noticed it rubbing his hip against your ass and squeezing you against him.

You could feel your body responding to his advances, but you were convinced not to give in and continue with that little game of yours.

He sighed heavily in your ear, bringing his hand to your breast, caressing it through your blouse and feeling your nipple hardening at his touch. “Come on baby, I know you want me. I can smell it on you.”

You felt your skin prickling at the sound of his voice and you moaned softly, deliberately moving your hips to rub his shaft.

“You are such a tease, Stephen” You said surrendering. That game didn't make any sense when you always ended up giving in in the end.

He chuckled and moved on the couch to let you lie on your back and ran his hand inside your shorts and panties circling your clit as he stared at you with those deep blue eyes.

“I said I wouldn't behave.”

You moaned softly, surrendering to his touch as he took a finger inside you and tsked

“Your body can't hide how much you want me.”  He putted a second finger inside you.

Your hand went down to his hip and you touched his hard cock fully visible through his pants and smirked sly “Yours neither”

He kissed your lips and bit your bottom lip, then smoothed it with the tip of his tongue.

“Who said I want to hide it”

You bit his lip a little harder.

He moved his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that sweet spot and you moved your hips against his hand.

He kept his eyes on you as he increased the pace. He loved watching the expressions of pleasure on your face and the sweet moans that escaped your lips. When he brought his thumb to your clit, moving in sync with his two fingers inside you, you felt your body begin to shake.

“Oh Stephen...” You bit your lip.

He smiled satisfied “Already?”

You brought your hand up to his face “Kiss me, baby.”

He obeyed by kissing you. Your tongue entering his mouth dominating him. You moaned even louder into his lips and he increased the pace of his fingers even more.

 Your entire body shook in his hands and you had to part your lips to breathe.

“Oh fuck.. fuck you Stephen!”

He smiled openly watching as you revel in your orgasm, your entire body convulsing at his touch.

“All I want is you fucking me, baby.”

You sighed heavily coming down your high “You'll pay for this.”

He smirked “For making you cum?”

You nodded “For making me lose our game. I can't resist you, but I can make you lose too.”

“I am sure you can” He chuckled caressing your face.

You turned around going to him, making him lie on his back on the couch and getting between his legs kissing him intensely and went down his lips to his neck leaving kisses and bites there and continued down licking a nipple, sucking and biting and pinching the other. He hissed, enjoying the sensation and you could feel his cock throbbing.

“Baby, please... I need you.” He said grabbing your hair and lightly pushing your head down.

You smiled satisfied “Say please again.”

He stared at you biting his lower lip and pressing his hips up against you “Please.”

You hummed and moved your lips down his belly slowly. You admired his cock under his pants, it was quite a sight. You stroked it through his pants feeling it twitch in your palm.

“You're so big, Stephen. I love that”  

You kissed him through the fabric teasing him and he moaned softly, moving his hips. Finally you pulled down his pants and boxers revealing his hard cock, his head already wet with precum. You licked your lips

“Look at you baby, so hard for me, needing to be fucked.”

Your taunts drove him to the brink of madness. He loved it when you talked to him like that, he loved the tone of your voice, the malice in it, but at that moment it really felt like torture and he couldn't wait any longer. He needed you.

“Touch me. [Y/N], stop teasing, just touch me. Please.”

You finally took it in your hand. You stuck your tongue out by tapping his cock on it tasting his precum. You spat on him using your saliva to lubricate it, spreading it with your hand as you slowly stroked it from top to bottom and circling the tip with the palm of the your hand.

He groaned loudly in approval.

You spat again and smeared saliva over him making him totally wet and then added your other hand. Holding it firmly at the base and caressing the tip with circular gestures making a delicious wet noise.

“Oh my god, baby, it feels so good.” His voice was almost a whisper punctuated by low moans.

You added your tongue licking the tip and he moaned loudly, moving his hips involuntarily. You ran your tongue down the entire length, giving him light kisses and jerking him quickly.

You spat at him again, increasing the pace and he groaned loudly, unable to control himself. You kept your eyes on him and it was amazing to see him surrender to pleasure like that. He brought his hand up to your chin directing you to his cock.

“Put it in your mouth. I love your mouth, baby, let me feel it around my cock.”

You smiled in obedience and put it in your mouth going as deep as you could and caressing the rest with your hand. You forced yourself to swallow it, his head slamming against your throat making you choke on him. Your eyes filled with tears. Saliva dripping from your mouth, but you kept up the pace. Taking it out of your mouth, licking the tip and swallowing it again until your nose touched his skin and soon he was panting heavily.

“Oh fuck. You gonna make me cum like this, baby.”

You took it out of your mouth smiling satisfied with your work

“Not yet. I am going to fuck you first.”  You said as you wrapped your legs around his waist and put him inside you. He groaned loudly and brought his hands to your ass helping you maintain a slow but intense pace, going all the way down and then lifting your hip up leaving just his tip inside you and then lowering you going all the way inside until you feel his balls deep in your ass.

“Oh Stephen, your cock is so good. You fuck me so good”

He moaned loudly and you took your hand to his throat squeezing it and he hissed in approval.

You started riding him faster, you could feel he was about to cum and you put more pressure on your movements as you moved on top of him in circular motions, rubbing your clit in his pubic hair taking as much friction as possible. You tightened your hand on his throat, choking him, he closed his eyes, leaning his head back, the sight of him fully surrendered to you carrying you to your orgasm.

“Baby I am gonna cum” You almost screamed “Please, Stephen cum with me. Cum inside me, I wanna feel your cum inside me.”

He moaned loudly as you tightened your hand around his throat even more, his cock throbbing and spilling inside you.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to your own climax, moaning sweet praises to him.

“Stephen you are so good to me, you fuck me so good. I love you so much.”

You relieved the pressure in his throat as you came down your high collapsing on top of him and pulling him to your lips.

He caressed your hair, your breaths slowly returning to normal.

"You're okay?" he asked kissing your forehead.

You hummed yes.

“I love you [Y/N], sometimes I think I don't say it enough. I know I spend a lot of time working, I'm sorry, but I need you to know how much I love you and how happy you make me.”

You lifted your head resting your chin on his chest and facing him with a silly smile on your lips. “I know, I understand, don't worry. I love you Stephen, I admire everything you do, it's just that sometimes I miss you”

He nodded “I know"

You caressed his face. The bun had given way and his hair was hanging loose and a little messy. You ran your hand through his hair “You make me so happy, Stephen. I wouldn't trade what we have for the world.”

He pulled you to his lips with a satisfied sigh and then smiled smugly “I think I'll let you watch your series now.”

You giggled “Promise?”

He smirked “For now.”

------------------------------------

MASTERLIST

Spotify Playlist (Songs that inspired my stories)

Tag list: @polytheatrix @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @strangelockd @evelynrosestuff @cute-angi @aisling1985 @whiskeyho @prix1994 @graveyzxbabe @kirithadilitirio @sherlux @xourownsidee @rbymoon @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @sherlocksgirl91

[adobe-outdesign]

Oddish! The Oddish line!

Oddish is based off of a mandrake, and in addition to being nocturnal and burying itself during the day it also shrieks mandrake-style if you pull it out of the ground. I'm mostly mentioning this because the mental image of this cute little thing screaming bloody murder because someone pulled it up is hilarious.

Anyway, yeah, Oddish has a perfectly nice design. The blue body is what really makes it interesting, helping it avoid the sort of generic green grass-type motif that we see a lot. I also like that it doesn't have arms and just runs around everywhere on its two little legs.

My only nitpick is more to do with the entire line; Oddish only having green leaves makes it feel a little disconnected from Gloom and Vileplume. I would've liked to see a little of the red worked in there, maybe at the base of the leaves. That's obviously not a big deal though.

Gloom is where things really get great, as we begin to see the line's theme come into play: they're based off of corpse flowers! I.e. those giant plants that look and smell like rotting meat.

Given how many grass-types are just generic green leaves and flowers, this is an insanely cool plant to take inspiration from, and its habit of drawing in insects with its smell makes it appropriate for their poison-typing as well.

Gloom also does a good job as a middle evo; it transitions clearly, but it doesn't look like either, with ball-like petals instead of Vileplum's giant open ones, some long grass-like red leaves, and a drooling, sleepy expression that adds a ton of personality and feels fitting for a corpse flower. Also, once again, I love the non-traditional colors here.

My only nitpick is that I could've done without the arms, at least until the last evo, just because that would've been more interesting. Other than that, Gloom's pretty perfect.

Vileplume's probably my personal fav out of the line; I love being able to see the flower in full (said to be so huge it has trouble holding itself up, a nod to how rafflesias have the largest flowers of any plant. The colors still look great, and maybe it's just my imagination, but I love how vaguely threatening it looks, like it's trying to look friendly but is secretly planning to stun spore you out of existence.

My only real complaint is that, while the expression is fun if you interpret it that way, it doesn't really make sense to go from Oddish's face to Gloom's face only to go right back to Oddish's face with Vileplume. I feel like either Gloom should've had Vileplume's face and vice-versa, thus adding a sense of progression, or Vileplume should've had a different face entirely. Regardless, it works perfectly as a final evo, and it still embraces its corpse-flowery nature to its fullest instead of just being a generic flower.

Spoke too soon.

I mean, Bellossom's not really bad; I don't even have much to critique about it, other than maybe the length and thickness of the arms is a bit off, but... really? We really needed to add a split evo to this line that throws out the one thing the original line had going for it?

I mean, to be fair, I kind of see what they were going for; it evolves via sun stone, and goes from night-flowering to day-flowering, from vaguely malicious and kind of gross to generic and pleasant. There's definitely people out there that would find Bellossom more appealing to them personally, even if I don't.

However, I think my main problem with Bellossom is that it really, really does not fit with the original line visually. I may not care for Gallade that much, but at least I can see how Kirlia evolves into both it and Gardevoir, and how it fits with the rest of the line.

But Bellossom? Bellossom feels like a completely separate design that was tacked onto the Oddish line during development (which to be fair, it very well could have been). The colors are completely different; gone are Oddish's pleasant blues in favor of yellows and greens. The eyes are much more detailed and different than the rest of the line's simple dot eyes. In fact, the only single thing I can see that connects it to everything else is the shape of the flowers on the head, and that's not much.

What's particularly weird about the colors is that some early art shows it did have bluish skin originally, and I don't know why they changed it (even the original shiny had blue skin before it was randomly changed to lavender):

At the end of the day, Bellossom just feels like it shouldn't evolve from Gloom, or even be connected to the rest of the line. It's not bad in and of itself, but it adds nothing; and at the end of the day, if I want a humanoid grass-type wearing a dress with a flower, I'll take Lilligant any day of the week.

Overall: Oddish is cute, and I adore the colors and corpse-flower theme of Gloom and Vileplume. Bellossom, meanwhile, is fine but doesn't fit with the rest of the line, and is much more generic. Still, the original trio are still some great and refreshing grass-types.

Also, enjoy this oddly ominous card art of an Oddish looking like it just blew up a town without remorse:

[matzsmith]

Yeah, it's a right pain, to be honest. You're sat there for what feels like forever, and by the time they've done, your neck's stiff and you've got this heavy thing on your head. Doesn't help when you're not used to it, like you said. But hey, I suppose it's all worth it in the end. You're right though, I must be a glutton for punishment. Either that or I'm just really, really committed to the cause. The second someone steps out of line or shows a bit of vulnerability, people jump on it. It's a shame, though, how many people play it safe because they're worried about being judged. With so many eyes on you, every little move's under the microscope. One wrong look or a bad day, and suddenly there's a thousand different opinions flying around about what you meant by it. I reckon anyone in this game who says they've never had a wobble is either lying or superhuman. The pressure's mad, and you're always one slip-up away from ending up on some tabloid headline. We're all bound to crack now and then, but you just have to hope no one's filming when it happens, eh? I'm pretty sure it's not on any platform, but you could buy it if you wanted, though I would certainly not recommend you waste money on it! Ohh mate, cent percent. It's a bit surreal, to be staring at this version of yourself that's not you at all, it's like looking at a stranger. It's weirdly liberating, in a way. You stop being "you" with all the usual baggage and suddenly you're this whole other person with their own quirks and mannerisms. I reckon it's a bit like an out-of-body experience, but one that's actually useful for the job. I get it! Performing's one thing, but having the camera on you, especially for a music video, it's like a whole other layer of pressure. You're not just delivering the music, but every little movement and expression gets captured, and there's nowhere to hide. I get why that could feel a bit much, especially if you're more about the creativity than being the centre of attention. But when you do get involved and let yourself switch it up, I bet it's a blast, yeah? It's not Andrew on camera, it's this version of you that fits the video. And I reckon that probably lets you have a right laugh with it. You can throw yourself into the performance without worrying about how you come across because it's all part of the character or the story you're telling. It's almost like a little escape. Deal, mate! I won't go digging through your hidden gems. We'll just agree to let those past performances rest in peace. That Trinity orchestra thing sounds like a story though, I'll let you off the hook for now, but I reckon I'll be curious about it one day! Fair trade, I'd say. Thank you, man! We've still not wrapped and I'm excited for you to see it.

Yeah, it's like our minds are wired to latch onto the negative. As if our brains are programmed to protect us from criticism, so we end up obsessing over it, replaying it in our heads like some sort of mental highlight reel. And I reckon there's something about our nature that craves validation. When we put ourselves out there, we want to feel accepted, to know we've done a good job. So when the negative comments pop up, they hit harder than they should. It's like standing in front of a crowd, and one person shouts something nasty while everyone else is cheering, you can't help but focus on that one voice. You're right, the thought of someone confronting us with that kind of negativity in person is a whole different kettle of fish. You can just imagine the look on their faces when they realize they have to back up their words with actual interaction. it's like the internet gives them this false sense of power, but in reality, most people are just trying to live their lives without the hassle. The worst part is that it can make you second-guess yourself. You start wondering if what you create is worth it when a few loud voices try to drown out the good stuff. But thankfully, we've got people to remind us that for every negative comment, there are plenty of people who appreciate what we do. And those are the voices that really matter. I've been feeling the draft a bit more than I'd like. A warm hat sounds like a solid plan, I might even look cool. You've got a point about starting fresh, though. The bleach definitely took a toll, and it was probably time for a reset. Sometimes you've just got to strip it all back and let it breathe. I'l miss the mohawk but I think my hair does suit me lots better. Here's hoping I'm back to those long locks sooner rather than later. I totally understand, otherwise, you end up pacing around the house like a caged animal, don't you? I hate that feeling. The worst is when you've got so much free time that your mind starts running wild with all sorts of nonsense. Better to stay active and engaged, even if it's just tackling odd jobs or trying your hand at something new. I love that. It's truly fascinating how love can push back against all the nonsense we face daily, whether it's societal pressures or personal struggles. When you frame it like that, it feels almost revolutionary, doesn't it? You're taking something so beautiful and flipping it into a powerful statement. We should! If you happen to be around New York, I'd love to meet up and get this going. I can't imagine what life would be like without it either, it's like my personal therapy. I like that you have that background, it just proves you don't need a fancy degree to make it in music. That's such an interesting life, and career initiations mate! Much more than mine in so many ways. Sounds good, mate! I totally get that, you've got to be in the right headspace to really nail a song. Once you've had a decent stretch of sleep, I know you'll be firing on all cylinders again, churning out those brilliant ideas. 

Oh yeah, I can imagine it's an absolute pain in the arse to be sitting there for that long to have it fitted, and it must feel weird to carry all that extra weight too when you're absolutely not used to such things. Tell ya what, I don't envy ya for kt. You're a Saint for dealing with the process, but I suppose that only goes to show how much you value your job. You'll be able to rest easy at night know thsy discomfort certainly paid off and aids the masterful performance you never fail to give. What is it with humans and judgement? We must be the only species with such narrow minded views. From an outsider perspective, you're always able to tell when someone is holding back, that makes whatever project you're focusing on seem half hearted and no one really wants that. But when someone care? Oh, it's like the heavens have opened up and you're certainly going to be witness to an absolute masterpiece — that in itself sets things apart. In the industry we're all in, having so many eyes on ya, doesn't it make sense that we'd all go out our nut at some point? We're lucky if none of it's ever caught on camera. Ah, so the film is out there then? Sorry to hear about all the delays and lack of promotion that went into it after all the hardworking you and the crest of the cast surly went through. I'm sure there's someone out there who holds that movie dear to their heart, and in a way, isn't that what it's all about. The shaved head didn't go to complete waste. Don't take it as a failure, it's a learning curve. There are plenty of projects out there held near and dear nowadays that we're horrifically bombed by people reviewing them back on release. Don't ya ever get a little freaked out when you're looking in the mirror and don't see yourself looking back? It would be giving uncanny valley, but I can certainly see how it would help you navigate into an entirely different person. You're suddenly free from the shackles of your own being temporarily. Truth be hold, I don't truly enjoy being in front of the camera. Love performing and creating, but there's always this part of me that wants to shy away from curious eyes, so I'm actually not in a lot of my music videos. But the ones I have been fortunate enough to change into has been a right laugh. How's this for a sign of friendship, I won't go looking at the stuff you deem as your worst work provided you won't go looking for me shining with the Trinity orchestra. Is that a fair trade? In the story of the underdog, everyone can see a part of themselves in it. Can't wait to watch it personally, lad. You'll have smashed it. That's what I'm talking about. Positive thinking and all that. Manifest your way towards greatness.

It's like our mind works against us at times. Like when ya know ya should get up and do something with your day, but instead you'll lounge around and be sad about the hours wasted. That's what it's like searching for cruel comments in a sea of positivity. Truth be told, most people don't have that kinda strong reaction to a perfect stranger. They'll only say it online because they think there's no harm done there and they want to either provoke a reaction or gain some attention. Luckily no one has cussed either of is out face to face. I dread to think of the repercussions. Ah, I hadn't even factored into the temptation drop at the moment. With how long my hair is, I've not had to worry about that, but you must be getting freezing nowadays. Invest in a warm hat until your hair comes back, I'm sure it won't take ya too long to grow again. Starting fresh might be wise, ya must have bleached it to get it that yellow colour and I'm assuming that it isn't feeling its healthiest right now. Don't worry, you'll be back with long locks in no time and the mohawk will be but a distant memory. Just like you, I have to be doing something with my days or I'll drive myself into wall with how bored I'd get. Not started talking to the TV before, so that's a good sign, right? Yeah, you're exactly right. I love the idea of love as a violent act, ya know? Not against each other, but against the reality of the world we're forced to live in and my lyricism tries to show that. No kidding! That's so cool. We'll have to jam together sometime now I know music is well and truly in your blood. You're right about it being a great outlet, I have no clue what head space I'd be in without it. Being a pro is overrated. I was a college dropout, who's biggest gig was a local pub in Ireland when Take Me To Church took off the way that it did. So long as your hearts I'm the right place, that's what counts in my books. Thanks for being so understanding. You'll definitely be kept in the loop. Once I've been able to sleep for at least a week or two, then I'll be in writing mode. I kinda always am, but I need to be in the right mindset to craft a song together.

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[danteinthedevildom]

There's a Chat in OM where Satan shows concern over Beel because he saw Beel talking to himself, crouched down in the garden, which Beel later reveals to have been him talking to a very frail plant he found because Mammon told him that talking to flowers helps them grow.

And what I adore about this is that it shows things about the brothers involved that we don't always get to see in the main game, or that are sometimes overlooked for the funny hijinks.

- Beel notices incredibly small details. The flower is small and hidden enough that Satan initially thinks he's talking to himself. He doesn’t actually see the plant at all. And Beel is the tallest brother, so it's not as if his height would be any help to him noticing something on the ground that's small, hidden, and frail, especially when he’s doing a task like watering the garden. That’s just a job to be done, and most people would pay more attention to where the water’s going and how much there’s left to do than they would to each individual flower. He must have been paying genuinely close attention to his surroundings to even notice it to begin with.

- Beel's care for things extends even to nature. He talks to the plant because he wants to help it grow. It's just a small, dying flower, one of however many there are in the House’s garden; there’s no reason to fret over it when there’s probably plenty of other flowers around it, and maybe even flowers of the same species. 

But Beel’s genuinely invested in bringing it back to health. He’s seen this tiny, sickly, insignificant flower, and his first thought is to make it better. It's why he later clarifies the situation to MC, asking for more help, because the flower hasn't shown any signs of improvement.

(Very quietly, it makes me wonder if part of the reason he does this is guilt. Maybe Beel just doesn’t like to see things that are dying.)

- Despite how the brothers act towards Mammon most of the time, Beel fully takes on his advice. He spends days talking to the flower because Mammon told him that's something that might work, and it's only when the flower hasn't gotten better that he seeks more help.

At no point did he question this advice. At no point did he think that the “scummy” second-born would say something stupid, or irrelevant, or unhelpful. Mammon told him to talk to the plant, and he so did.

He says that he asked because Mammon was nearby, but at any time he could have just walked right past him, found someone else, and asked them. He could have completely ignored the fact that Mammon was there - especially considering how little the brothers tend to think of his ideas, to begin with - and found someone “more competent”. But he didn’t.

Which means he genuinely has no issues turning to Mammon for help. He genuinely thinks Mammon can give competent advice.

Out of all the brothers, Beel is usually the best when it comes to their overall treatment of the second-born, so maybe that isn’t surprising - but he can be derisive as well.

So it's nice to see, in a situation where it was just the two of them, without the antagonising influence of the others, Beel show he's more than willing to listen to Mammon as a voice of authority and knowledge - especially over something he's worried about. He respects and trusts what Mammon says, and believes it.

- Mammon saw Beel worried over a plant - something small and insignificant that has no greater purpose in the world and hosts no real interest for either of them - and gave him the best genuine advice he could.

Mammon likely doesn't actually know how to care for sick plants, but wanted to try and give Beel something to work with. We know he cares for his brothers deeply - almost (if not exactly) to the point of self sacrifice - so it's not a stretch at all to say he probably suggested talking to the plant in full seriousness, hoping it would help Beel.

It's a common piece of advice, after all. I've heard people say it all the time, from the most amateur gardener to the most professional; talking to your plants keeps them happy and helps them grow.

The bit that really gets me about it, though, is the fact that Mammon... knew it? Out of all things, you'd expect him to care about gardening the least - and to suggest talking to a plant even less. It goes completely against his image, but not against what we know of Mammon as a kind and caring (as well as emotional) demon beneath the facade.

Him, in a similar position to Beel, crouched down low and out of sight to murmur quietly to a plant he thinks needs an extra boost, is well within the spectrum of things Mammon would do but deny doing if caught.

And I just think it's sweet, imagining him passing on advice he's used in the past over a similar thing he might have done to try and help his clearly worried little brother.

- Satan, in a chat with Solomon and MC, shows genuine care and concern towards Beel.

His first instinct is to ask MC and Solomon if they might know what’s going on. He’s noticed a pattern of behaviour that’s unusual for Beel - “sitting out in the garden, mumbling to himself”, to quote him directly - and once it’s gotten to a point that he’s worried, he asks if anyone else knows what’s wrong.

It shows a fair bit of forethought, too. Satan didn’t immediately assume something was up, didn’t immediately dogpile on Beel; he let it play out, keeping a close eye, until it went on for long enough that he thought it might be something bigger. He’s often shown as being thoughtful about how others might react to things (at least, when he’s not enraged), but it’s interesting to see the actual depth of not only his caring, but his understanding of emotional states and how to handle them. 

Satan isn’t heartless. If he notices something wrong, he’s very likely to approach the person in question (or people he trusts) with his concerns in a very gentle manner explicitly to avoid overwhelming them. He actively cares enough to pay attention to the people around him, and to notice when someone starts acting differently. 

This is especially sweet when it comes to Beel. The brothers have a tendency to treat Beel as the big, gentle giant who doesn’t have a worry in the world except for what he wants to eat. He’s quiet, complains little, and shoulders so many burdens in stride that they often overlook his struggles - if they’re even aware that they exist, because Beel loves his family so much he tries to avoid troubling them.

The fact, then, that Satan not only noticed, not only inquired about his health, but then - when Solomon and MC suggest that maybe Beel’s stressed out and bottling up his emotions - openly says this: 

Just shows so much love. The game sometimes overlooks just how much Satan loves his family, but this? This shows it, without a doubt. 

- Satan messages the chat with Solomon in it. 

This surprised me when I went back to look over the conversation; I genuinely remembered it as him talking to Levi, for some reason. Beyond that, if you asked me who I thought it’d be that he questioned for information regarding Beel’s health, it wouldn’t be Solomon that immediately jumped to mind. 

In this situation, you’d think it’d make more sense for him to ask MC and Asmo (who he’s shown to have a very close and affectionate relationship with), or maybe MC and Belphie (who would probably be the first demon anyone should go to regarding Beel, and who Satan definitely gets on with). 

As far as I’ve seen - which, admittedly, I’m not caught up on any of the Human World events from the main game beyond spoilers I’ve looked up - there’s not a lot of, if any, interactions between Beel and Solomon? Most of them are Solomon trying to give Beel food, and Beel trying to foister that food off onto someone else because Solomon’s cooking is one of the few things he can’t stomach. 

So maybe it says more about Satan’s relationship with Solomon. Looking back through the chats, Solomon feels comfortable enough with Satan to outright ask him if he’s kissed MC (in the chat where Luke overheard Satan and MC talking about K.I.S.S.), and Satan doesn’t react negatively even though it’s a genuinely personal question.

Likewise, Satan, when furious over one of his dramas, immediately turns to the chat with MC and Solomon in it. He explicitly states that he doesn’t know what to do with the feelings he’s got left over from the cliffhanger, and wants to talk it over with the two humans. Which is interesting in two ways: 

+ It shows that Satan is comfortable enough when angry to go to Solomon and MC, confident that they won’t actively make it worse (which is always possible when it comes to Satan’s Wrath once it’s ignited). 

+ It shows that Satan’s more than happy to talk about how he feels in front of Solomon, and actively engaging him in that discussion. Yes, it’s only over a drama, but you don’t often turn to someone you don’t trust when you want to vent over something you’re passionate about. 

There’s a fair bit of trust between them, I think, regardless of how either of them are typically viewed. Plus, the chat’s called Cat (3). It’s almost definitely just a pun, but the fact that a chat with Solomon and MC in it is also named after the one thing that can soothe Satan from an outright rage (as we’ve seen both in OtakuFM and in the main game) is interesting in what it implies about their relationship with him. 

So, back to what I originally pondered: why did he go to Solomon and MC when he was concerned about Beel, and not Belphie (Beel’s twin, most likely to know what he’s up to) or Asmo (who lives at the House and is absolutely more likely to have seen Beel in the garden)? 

He trusts Solomon and MC enough to take the matter seriously, with discretion.