#up to the person she's kind with to decide whether they wanna accept her kindness or ignore it to fuck up anyway...

[dat-silvers-girl]

Be cautious in your relationships.

- 3 of Hearts ❤️❤️❤️

Sarahi Silvers was born and brought up in the Country of Hearts. From childhood, a friend of her father, a retired soldier called Riku Hirayama, taught both her and her older brother, Julian, the art of warfare, when the children had expressed interest. On the physical side, Sarahi did become a force, but on the academic side, she was failing, earning her mother's displeasure and abuse. Due to repeated failures as a good student and daughter, she simply moved out of the University dorms one night, with Julian reluctantly helping her.

Riku suggested that she was qualified to join the army if she so wished, but due to her dislike for violence, and the unease she felt about the Civil War in the Country of Spades, she refused. She did, however, take the idea of working for the Palace, assuming she would be kept busy enough as a maid to have an excuse to not go home.

Sarahi, although sweet and incredibly loving, is full of anxiety and painfully naive. The few friends she makes tend to become protective of her, and are often shocked to learn that she has been trained to fight at all.

My contribution to the Cardverse AU created by @ariparri! Sarahi as the 3 of Hearts, and she is most definitely NOT cautious in her relationships. Very fitting. She's affectionately called 'Little Heart Sarahi'. There's more fic below the cut.

I cannot stop writing stuff about my baby please help

Includes the Queen of Hearts, Carewyn by the one and only @carewyncromwell!

XXX

Getting hired as a maid in the Castle of Hearts definitely wasn't the most glamorous job around, but as a University dropout, it was honestly the best Sarahi could have done on short notice. At least she'd be getting paid for the inconvenience of cleaning up other people's messes this time. Clad in a self-made balloon dress and her grandmother's apron, she worked, if only to avoid going home to her disappointed mother who was still trying to force Sarahi back into University.

But a few days into her new job, Sarahi noticed the lack of dedicated attention given to the Palace gardens. Sure, people took care of the gardens and flowers every now and then, and it was pretty enough, but the flowers always seemed like they would thrive better if someone gave more attention to them. It's not enough to just water a plant every day, after all.

Thinking of the lovely times spent gardening with her grandmother, Sarahi started to put her time into the garden as soon as she would get off work, to care for flowers and pull weeds. And it was absolutely worth it to spend time in the gardens… a few days of being fed vegetables and the rabbits in the garden became so attached to Sarahi, that they'd get upset when she asked to leave. A particular one, a light brown rabbit she called Daisy, proceeded to just sit on her shoes until they were ready to let the maid go. And Sarahi certainly loved her new bunny friends.

It was easy to forget she was technically a maid and should be doing her chores. However, no one had really complained, even when her garden caring time started eating away at her actual work time.

When the Queen of Hearts began approaching her in the garden one afternoon, Sarahi hurriedly checked the time and immediately realized that she was late in her chores again and was about to get scolded. But of course she was about to get scolded. Maybe beaten. Stand straight, don't put up a fight, even if she goes for the face. Mum always goes for the face-

"Do you know that you do a great job in the garden?" Queen Carewyn asked.

Sarahi blinked. "Huh?"

The Queen wasn't yelling at her for slacking off?

"The gardens are thriving under your care. And the rabbits love you."

The Queen of Hearts pointed a gloved finger behind Sarahi, and the maid turned around to notice the bunnies awaiting her attention and maybe fresh leaves of lettuce.

Sarahi picked Daisy up to stop her fussing, then spoke. "I love the bunnies. They are very sweet. Um… I'm sorry… I'm… I'll go back to work-"

"May I ask you something? Sarahi, was it?"

"Uh… sure?"

"Would you rather be a Gardener?"

"...what?"

"Would you like to be the Gardener here?"

"I… think I would? I've always liked flowers. I like growing flowers. And I like the critters here too."

The Queen rested her chin on her hand in thought. Sarahi lowered her head, fearing she said or did something wrong to upset the Queen.

"Then that is what you should do."

"Huh??"

"If you like gardening, then you should be the gardener here. Of course, if that is what you want."

Sarahi turned her head away from the Queen. She took a deep breath before looking back and answering.

"I do want that. I'd like to stay here, and take care of the garden."

The Queen gave her a cool smile. "Then, by all means, do that. I'll talk to Diego and make sure your position is changed."

"Wait, really!? I can just make this my job?"

"Of course. Care for this garden has been long overdue."

Sarahi shook her head. "You're… being so nice about this. Are you sure I'm… it's not an inconvenience… uh… Your Majesty?"

Sarahi, holy mother of God, stop stuttering!

"No, it is not an inconvenience. If you enjoy taking care of the garden, then you should. Besides, I'm sure the rabbits will be perfectly happy about this arrangement since you won't have to leave them anymore."

The Queen had added the last part with an amused smile towards the other rabbits crowding around Sarahi's feet.

For the first time since the Queen strode up to her, Sarahi finally smiled. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Really. I'll do my best."

Carewyn nodded. "You should do what makes you happy."

"Can I also clean up that old house at the corner of the garden? And stay there? Is that okay?"

"You may. An old king once built that house for his Gardener, so that they wouldn't have to walk to the quarters everyday after a long day of work. It's only fair that you use the place as intended. Rest assured, you are free to work on the Garden from now on."

The maid beamed, and instantly bent down to pet the other rabbits.

"Did you hear that, lil buddies? We can stay together all day from now on!"

XXX

Apparently it was absolutely no trouble convincing King Diego that this one random maid would rather take care of the garden. He even proceeded to visit the garden and tell Sarahi how pretty she made the gardens look with only a few weeks of work, praise which Sarahi awkwardly accepted. The old house was a bit untidy after years of being unused, but cleaning was no issue and at this point. And some friends had also helped her set up, and before long, it felt like a home.

Thankfully Sarahi's bunny friends were great at keeping her calm and not letting her anxiety spike.

"I never thought that people outside home would be so nice, Daisy." Sarahi wondered aloud one time. She'd just finished raking the fallen leaves and flowers all morning and was taking a little break basking in the sunlight while the bunnies around her took a nap. Except Daisy, who somehow kept her rapt attention on the maid.

"Especially royalty, you know? The King and Queen were just - 'Oh you like gardening? Sure you can do that!' Just like that. No questions, no fuss, no yelling. Mum always said that people would be much worse outside home."

Sarahi sighed. "My tiny brain forgot who the King and Queen actually were. Diego was that funny guy in the University who was always showy but very nice. Carewyn was that pretty girl from the Spades country. Apparently I was so focused on trying and failing to get passable grades that I forgot about everything else going on in the world."

"They're a perfect fit, I think. They say by nature, the Kingdom of Hearts is filled with the most desirable people on earth and the most worthy of love." Sarahi mumbled, mostly to herself. "I have never felt particularly desirable."

Daisy tilted her head.

"Yeah, I'm not making sense. My random thoughts bounce around a lot when it's quiet."

"Sarahi!" A new voice called.

The mentioned maid giggled, recognising the voice. "And I suppose, a lack of quiet is all I need."

Sarahi got up onto her feet, but Daisy clambered into her basket of flowers before she could pick it up.

"Daisy, come on. Not again… This is why the other bunnies accuse me of favoritism."

"I don't know if she's your favorite, but you certainly are hers." Barnaby chuckled, coming out of the corner.

"Well, I'd have loved to give the Ace of Hearts this pretty white rose I found earlier, but sadly, SOMEONE is sitting on it." Sarahi laughed, giving a pointed look to Daisy, who was completely unaware and just chewing on another piece of lettuce. "I suppose you'll have to amuse yourself with just bunnies today!"

"I would never say no to more bunny time!" Barnaby announced, and immediately, the rest of the bunnies got up and started scampering around his feet.

"Yes, hello Hop, Fuzz and Coco…"

Barnaby proceeded to sit down cross legged on the grass, joined by Sarahi.

"Hey… they're responding to you saying their names now." Sarahi noticed.

"I'm honored. Means they're my friends too, right?" Barnaby asked.

"You're probably better with critters. They warmed up to you a lot faster than they did with me."

"They still prefer to be with you all the time though."

Daisy and Hop both proceeded to wrestle into Sarahi's lap, while Coco and Fuzz were content to go back to sleep on Barnaby's.

"It's only 1PM, you know. Not that I mind, but what are you doing here at this time, Barn? Did you miss the bunnies that much?" Sarahi inquired.

"I always like seeing the bunnies, but I actually wanted to see you." Barnaby answered. The light blush on his face went unnoticed by the maid.

"Huh… What for?"

"Do you want to spend lunch with me today?"

"Lunch? It's only 1PM Barnaby. Lunchtime is at 3PM."

The Ace of Hearts proceeded to give Sarahi the most confused look till date.

"Barnaby?"

"3PM? Why do you think that?" Barnaby asked.

"It's the time my mum sets up for lunch. Seems reasonable."

Sarahi watched as Barnaby tried to process this information.

"Rahi, staff usually eat lunch at one. Did you not eat lunch with the rest of the maids while you were still working with them? Do you not eat lunch with them now?"

"No, I don't. Not that the others don't let me eat with them, but I prefer eating alone most of the time-"

Sarahi paused, resting a hand on her forehead. "I… I have no idea why I prefer that. I don't remember…"

Barnaby seemed concerned. "You alright?"

Sarahi nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just that since I left school, I've realised that there are some things about myself I don't remember. And it feels strange to not know myself."

The rabbits, now bored of their naps, proceeded to hop off their laps and play around. Barnaby stood up and dusted himself off.

"My offer still stands… have lunch with me today?" He asked, holding a hand out to Sarahi.

She smiled and took his hand. "You know what? I think I'd actually like that."

As soon as she got on her feet, Sarahi grabbed a white rose at the bottom of the basket.

"A little mussed up from Daisy sitting on it, but a pretty one regardless. Here, it's for you, Barnaby!"

The Ace accepted the white rose with a grin. "Thanks Sarahi! That's another one in my collection!"

"Hm? Collection? Are you keeping every flower I've given you?"

"Of course! I love when you give me flowers!"

Sarahi turned away, face turning red. "That's… very sweet. You're too kind to me, Barns. I'm going to get cavities from just hanging around with you."

"If we're going to get cavities anyway, could we at least have ice cream?" Barnaby quipped.

Sarahi snickered. "I thought we were going for lunch, not ice cream."

"Can we go for ice cream after lunch then?"

Sarahi stopped in her tracks at the inquiry. Wouldn't that count as… a date?

No, surely Barnaby isn't asking her on a date. Why would he ask her anyway? He's just always liked desserts.

"Sarahi?"

"Oh! Yes, sure! We can have ice cream later."

Barnaby's glee was like a child's, and it was infectious. Sarahi giggled at his excitement, as she latched the gate to the garden behind herself.

[jjsgirly]

wanna come over n' do sum blow? read at 2am … dealer!rafe cameron ! 18+, mdni. ༄.°

all over kildare you were deemed a "sweetheart" and an "angel" by anyone who knew you. you were poised and graceful, always dressed in pastels, your makeup light, and your hair always done up with pretty ornaments. your personality matched your looks—as sweet as sugar, helpful, and kind—vastly different from most of the people that resided in kildare. you were innocent to most. well, almost.

beneath the lily-white façade, you were a fiend. a coke addict. and rafe cameron knew. he was your best friend's older brother, and you barely knew him, really. whenever you hung out with sarah, you only caught glimpses of him as he was off living his own life, doing his own things, not that you cared, as when he was around, he treated you as "one of sarah's little friends" and picked on you a little bit. playful banter, you supposed, if it wasn't for the small jabs at your purity, mocking you.

it was honestly a mistake, one of those offhand coincidences. you had been doing so well hiding your little habit from everyone who was close to you, remaining as your usual as-pure-as-the-driven-snow self in front of them. that was until sarah had invited you to one of rafe's infamous parties, and you couldn't decline when she looked at you like that. how could you? she promised that there wasn't going to be any drugs or alcohol, but you knew better. drugs and alcohol were synonymous with rafe's name, so you decided to suck it up and play along.

the party was wild as always when you had shown up. sarah immediately led you through the estate and into the kitchen, crowded with teenagers doing god knows what. you tried to keep your eyes ahead of you and focused on the back of the blonde's head. she handed you a glass of water, nursing on her own cup with an amused smile gracing her pretty lips, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes and nudge her, causing her to bubble up a laugh.

admittedly, as the party went on and you had gotten separated from sarah at some point throughout it, looking around you made you start to withdraw. people were shameless in their illicit acts, doing substances so openly for everyone to see, but it was kildare. everyone and their mama had their habits, whether or not they cared to share them freely with prying eyes. of course, you were no different, and it was getting increasingly harder to control your urges.

you decided to relieve yourself by going upstairs, wanting to go into sarah's room to calm down and put yourself in order. as you made it down the hall, you noticed her older brother's door slightly ajar, which captured your interest and piqued your curiosity, moving towards it and pushing it open more, like something had overtaken you that you couldn't quite control.

the door opened more and revealed the dirty-blond's bedroom; you had never seen it before; sleek and clean for the most part, as expected of a rich boy, but the more it opened, the more you saw, eventually leading you to see rafe himself standing up against his balcony, doing a line with both doors open.

you were paralyzed, staring at it, praying to god that he didn't turn around and see you standing there practically salivating for it. to snort a line. to let go and relax. to get out of those fucking heels because, christ, they were killing you. unfortunately, god didn't hear those prayers, and as if he could feel your intense staring, he turned to look over his shoulder and at his now more than ajar door, your small, unexpected frame lurking in the doorway with the most bemused expression plastered across your delicate face, eyes wide and lips parted slightly.

oh, fuck, he thought, what a pleasant surprise. 

reading your face and demeanor as if he were a psychic, he nodded with his chin for you to come over, an invitation that didn't at all go unnoticed, and you accepted it naturally, walking into his room and closing the door behind you with a soft click, making your way over to him with small, tentative steps until you crossed the threshold and out onto the balcony with him, your eyes glancing at the cocaine laid out along the eloquent railing, tempting you.

"who knew that you of all people would be so interested in something like this, miss delicate flower, who never so much as raises 'er voice or does anything improper?" the dirty-blond sneered, his eyes gazing down at you with mirth as he so casually gestured towards what you wanted, and for the first time since he's known you, you furrowed your brows at him, irked.

"oho, fuck, princess. don't look at me like that; just messin' with you; i don't really care. honestly, i saw through your little bullshit act right away, but you seemed so invested in my sister, so i left it alone." he chuckled, shaking his head and turning to look out below the balcony and propped his elbow onto the railing with his head in his hand.

"s'not an act." you futilely tried to protest even despite being caught red-handed in your longstanding lie, nervously grabbing at the hem of your dress and fidgeting with it, uncomfortable with yourself, especially with the way rafe cocked his head and gave you a once over before settling his eyes back on yours, peering into them like he could see into the deepest part of your soul, where all of your deceptions lied underneath the wholesome appearance.

"sure s'not. if it isn't, walk out of here then. i don't need one of sarah's stuck-up, prissy friends in my room givin' me a goddamn headache when all i'm tryna do is relax." he stated, glancing at his door, as forthright and dickish as he always was, shrugging his shoulders with a smug look carved into his sharp features.

it annoyed you how standoffish he was, especially right then. you knew that he knew that you weren't going to leave, not when the metaphorical card was already laid out on the table, calling your name with its honey-toned voice, and you scrunched up your nose, eyes squinting at him, bunching up the edge of your pristine skirt into your fists. you hated that he knew, that he could see through you—some part of you really did want to leave, to call his bluff, make him look like an idiot for thinking of you any differently than what you presented yourself as, but you wouldn't. you couldn't.

when you didn't move an inch from where you were boring your eyes into him, rafe's cocky ass smirk only widened in response, and he hummed, amused by you, like you were some undomesticated, rabid animal seeking out your fix with crazed eyes. though, he had to admit, it was beautifully wild in a way, how you looked right then. he swore he could see the desperation lurking behind your eyes, feeling himself relent just a bit and shaking his head.

"go on. i don't mind sharin'." he sighed, moving a bit out of the way as he raised his brows, watching the way your whole attitude shifted, your eyes immediately lighting up like fireworks had just gone off inside of them, your body visibly relaxing, and the smallest hint of a smile forming along your glossy lips.

you turned gracefully on your heels and faced the railing of the balcony, eyeing the two powdery lines, residue from the one rafe had already snorted lingering by them, and looked around for something to use to inhale it with but came up short, letting out a huff, but, oh well, at least you were getting the relief you craved. reaching your hand behind your head, you grabbed onto your hair and formed it into a makeshift ponytail before leaning over and positioning yourself closest to the line towards the edge, using your free hand to plug one of your nostrils before swiping across, inhaling the drug, and pulling back, fluttering your lashes and sniffling.

rafe watched with eyes like a hawk, enjoying the unintentional show you were putting on for him. he felt elated to know that you had dropped the whole goody two-shoes act, finally showing your true colors, which he found to be much more appealing than that fake ass miss prim shit, masquerading as some proper angel when deep down you were just like everyone else, no longer hiding it from his prying eyes. he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't find you attractive at all in the moment, his gaze drifting towards your ass when you had bent over, wetting his lips, and following you intently when you rose back up.

he couldn't help himself; really, you were too fucking beautiful right then in your natural element, turning your head to look up at him with goddamn doe eyes, dainty lashes fluttering, the color of yours becoming greedily swallowed up by your pupils as the coke settled in your system, lips parting as you became more and more lax, simple-minded. you were easy now, and what you didn't know was that rafe did, indeed, not mind sharing, but that came with a price that he purposefully hid underneath his charitable tone, a price you were now going to pay for.

his arm dropped from the railing and stalked back closer to you, his eyes drinking you in like a fine wine as you tilted your head back inch by inch to look up at him properly, your features soft and graceful, some of your hair falling in front of your face.

he leaned his head down, his lips hovering close to your ear and eliciting a small, surprised noise from you, shivering a bit as you felt his warm breath fan over the sensitive skin. every sensation now heightened thanks to the angel dust coursing through your body, a bit dizzy and lightheaded.

"usually i'd ask you to pay me money for that sampler, but, y'know, i'm sure there's another way you'd be willing to pay me back, hm?" he whispered into your ear, his hand finding purchase on your hip and drawing you in, his warmth seeping through the silk fabric of your dress and making you stiffen.

your high made any rational thoughts leave your spinning head, so obediently you nodded your head and craned your neck back more, rafe leaving the side of your head with a wicked smile split across his face, sapphire eyes darkened, and he extended his other hand out towards his bedroom. "be my guest," and you did, having been piledrived into his mattress while clawing at him from overstimulation all the while he degraded you for being such a dirty fucking coke whore.

it was around 2am and you were up, sitting in front of your vanity and combing through your hair, having not been able to sleep for some reason, so you decided to doll yourself up just for yourself.

a buzz from your phone drew your attention away from your reflection and looked to it atop your desk, placing down your brush and grabbing ahold of it, unlocking it with a small scowl as you saw you had a notification from rafe cameron—your dealer. after that one night, you'll never forget.

he promised to give you good cocaine on account of you being the most perfect, pliant hole he's ever had the pleasure of fucking into, like his own personal fleshlight, so as long as you continue doing so, to which you agreed because it was a pretty good deal, but you made the condition of him not spilling your secret. he accepted.

> wanna come over n' do sum blow?

that was the text message. straightforward. you rolled your eyes and hovered your thumbs over the keyboard that had materialized within the chat, contemplating. no doubt this was a booty call, but you had been craving for that euphoric release for a few weeks now, having been preoccupied with other stuff.

is sarah home?

> no. at a friend's house. sleepover or sum shit.

you sighed. you didn't have an excuse not to go, so with tentative fingers, you gave him your answer.

be there in 20.

"r—a—fe!" you squeaked out as you dug your perfectly manicured nails into the dirty-blond's muscled back, fat, pearly tears streaming down your face as he folded you in half on top of his bed, driving his fat cock in and out of your weeping, overstimulated, puffy pussy, his hands keeping your legs secure with your knees pressed to your chest.

"take it, take it, take it. oh, god, yeah. so fucking good, sucking in my dick so well, huh?" he rasped, his thrusts relentless as he pistoned himself into you over and over and over and over again, your body trembling as it felt like you were getting electrocuted with shockwave after shockwave, rippling through your fucked-out body, not even moaning anymore, just crying.

the mushroom tip of his cock bullied your cervix with each mindnumbing thrust he delivered, not letting up even after the three rounds you had already been subjected to, your insides mushy and gooey, the base of rafe's dick coated with a creamy ring, answered for by your orgasms, each one being pulled from you that enraptured your whole body and left you cumming around his cock, milking him for everything you were worth.

"can't—take it—anymore! 'm too sens'tive! stop rafe! please, ple—ase!" you choked out through incessant whimpers and cries, back arching off the bed as he ground his dick into you, pushing you to your next orgasm rapidly, toes curling and your nails digging in even deeper, drawing groans from his kiss-bitten lips.

"nonono, baby. i gave you the sweet release you wanted, right? so, 'm gonna fuckin' get mine," he grunted, pushing down on your legs further, your body that of a contortionist with the way he had you bent like a goddamn lawn chair. "every," he pounded once harshly, "single," and again. "fucking," and again. "one." he picked his speed back up and threw his head back, strings of curses pouring from his lips.

your head was entirely blank, nothing in it, simply riding out your incredible high as rafe absolutely destroyed you, approaching your climax. with a final pump, you were sent tumbling over the edge and cried out his name like it was a prayer, your body lifting from the bed, head lolling back against his pillows, tidal waves crashing over you as your vision blacked out.

the dirty-blond simply gazed down as you convulsed around him, your petals fluttering around him and greedily clenching, cum sticking to his length as he slowed down his motions, mouth agape with pride as he watched himself fuck it back into you, your hole spent and aching, being overstimulated again, and through your delirium, you tried to push away, whimpering pathetically, to which he simply laughed in your face.

"uh-uh, coke whore. not done yet, haven't even come," he crooned bittersweetly, starting to pick up his pace again, leaning in close to press a few soft kisses to your knee, followed by a bite, causing you to jolt, his smirk widening. "stay still, yeah? i'll give you extra if you be good, and let me fuck you some more."

© jjsgirly on tumblr ! do not copy or transfer my work onto any other platform, please.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very much appreciated. ♡

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Could you write for Daemon targaryen like currently after all those nightmares in harnehal he finds a prisoner of harnehal as the only person who brings him peace him falling in love with her and trying to be better person he still fights for team black obviously rahaenya is definitely not happy with these arrangements especially seeing him all dedicated all in love some things he never have done for her but she have no option currently rather accepting his second wife though at the end when team black would be winning and fight at harnehal like aemond Vs Daemon she ask for reader's head happy ending at the end please or anything you wanna write I just wanna see Daemon happy in love at end please

Finally I have time for my hobbies again! Sorry I left you waiting for ages, this term the exam season was tougher than what I have been accustomed to… Anyways, I have started writing some stuff and I wanted to post the intro instead of writing a full-length chapter 1 since it would have taken a couple more days (:

As a side note, I honestly have no idea where this story will be headed because I have no clear course planned, I had some little ideas and I just started writing them. Also I will be introducing stuff which is not in the asoiaf universe.

I am continuing to read Silmarillion from where I left off and let’s say the ideas about Daemon’s love interest are… inspired from what I have been reading (; Enjoy!

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language, I am not a native English speaker, reader is (or will be) described with long hair

This is a very short introduction! Also the chapter is from Daemon’s pov. The title is inspired by Memento Mori by Lamb of God (the song has been a great inspiration for the story so far)

The dungeons of Harrenhal were cold, wet and lonely.

He had no idea when, how and why he had gone down there – one moment, he was in his chambers and the next, he was opening his eyes to the mossy stone walls of the dark dungeons with a torch in his hand. The line between dreams and reality was becoming thinner each day he spent in this cursed castle.

As Daemon walked past the empty cells, he tried to shake off this unsettling feeling lingering around him, dancing on his neck on its tippy toes, making him wonder whether he was indeed alone.

I doubt Simon Strong keeps prisoners down here, he thought while wiping the water from his forehead which was dripping from the broken ceiling. Maybe he has decided to lock up the witch?

Just when the Rogue Prince – correction, the King Consort – was about to turn back and leave the depressing, humid and somewhat eerie atmosphere of the dungeons behind, a soft humming reached his ears.

A soft, sweet humming of a song coming from one of the cells at the very end of the darkness.

“What kind of prisoner is Simon Strong hiding here?” Daemon asked, his voice created echoes as he waved the torch in front of him, trying to cast some light.

The humming stopped immediately, as if the sound itself was cut by a knife.

Daemon’s purple eyes widened upon seeing that the last cell was indeed not empty.

There was a young woman inside, looking at him with her eyes full of curiosity. Her hair had an unearthly shine under the dim moonlight. She tilted her head to the side. “You can see me?” She asked, it was the same soft voice from a moment ago, though the sweetness was no longer there to be felt.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Do people not see you?”

The young woman shook her head, her movements – no matter how simple they were – felt almost too harmonious. “Not normally, it is not intended that I am seen.” Stopping for a moment, she eyed Daemon from head to foot. “You are not really here, are you?”

The raised eyebrow quickly turned into a frown. “What do you mean? I am standing in front of you.”

She shook her head once again. As her soft whisper filled his eyes, Daemon started falling into the nothingness, again, for the unknown-th time ever since he had come to Harrenhal.

“Wake up.”

***

When he woke up, trying to catch his breath, Daemon found himself lying on his bed, as always. Anytime he had one of those weird dreams – he wasn’t even sure if he should call them dreams anymore – his consciousness would find its way back to his bed.

Unless he was daydreaming, which were considerably the worse.

“Who the fuck was that weird woman?” Daemon muttered to himself as he stood up, dressing up in his regular robes. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he had to go down there, to the dungeons, to find that woman. If he were to wait until dawn, he feared she might be gone.

What was it that she said again? It is not intended she is seen?

Leaving his chambers with a torch in his right hand, Daemon shook his head to the thoughts flowing through his mind, causing his silver hair to move. “Weird woman,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the castle with haste. “She somehow reminds me of the witch.”

The dungeons were as dark and wet as he remembered from the dream. A cold wind was wandering besides him, kissing the mossy walls and licking Daemon’s skin, sometimes whispering wicked words in his ears. Even the wind was odd here, in Harrenhal, but he had somewhat got used to it – hearing its eerie whispers whenever he walked alone during the hour of the wolf.

“Show yourself,” Daemon spoke with a strong voice which created echoes as he stood in front of that very cell from his dream. “Your king commands it!”

“Huh, king?” The same soft voice answered from the dark corner of her cell. The moonlight had left its shining spot, leaving the torch in Daemon’s hands as the only source of light in this entire corridor of the dungeons. “I answer to no king.”

A condescending scoff left Daemon’s lips as he came closer to the bars made of steel, separating him and the weird woman. “You do live in Westros, do you not?” Daemon asked, not really waiting for an answer. “As long as you breathe in this land, you do answer to the King.”

A chuckle came from the darkness. “I have been breathing in this land before your ancestors flew across the Narrow Sea, Daemon Targaryen.”

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa

[randombush3]

take me home

alexia putellas x reader

notes: idek i was just bored. i don’t even like this 😬

words: 2247

summary: it’s late, but you have a visitor you can’t turn away. (think ‘style’ by taylor swift)

warnings: (repurposed) smut. i don’t wanna talk abt that shocking portion of the fic tho so shh

The nights are lonelier than you had expected them to be when you moved here. Barcelona to London was a big change – a scary one, though it is difficult for your pride to let you admit that.

You, with your ambition, lost sight of what was supposedly tying you down, paying it as much attention as the other person in the relationship was. When you left, nothing really changed. You haven’t heard from her since.

So, as you sit in front of your TV, the bright colours of Sex Education illuminating the white walls of your otherwise dark apartment, you ask yourself once more why you are surprised. Why, every time you spend an evening alone, attempting to master the English language, your heart can’t help but crack a little bit more.

Eyes growing wearier by the minute, you cheat your immersion by texting a friend: no one particularly interesting. She is telling you about her vision for a song. A pianist she heard the other day has inspired her, and she wants your help. You often lend an experienced hand to the ones who need guidance when it comes to producing, but it’s midnight and you can’t be bothered at all. You realise that, in Spain, she must be out in the warmth of the city’s night, sitting on someone or other’s balcony, smoking a cigarette. A quick once-over of your own situation prods at a regret you have decided to ignore.

You’re in London for a reason.

The grating chirp of your buzzer causes your phone to be flung from your grip, landing on the rug beneath your bare feet with a soft, muted thud. Another ring of the buzzer has you groggily heading towards the intercom to the left of your door (painted red since yesterday, as urged by your mother who is all for personalising and making a place feel like home).

“Hello?” you question, too lazy to consider the shockingly short list of potential visitors.

The voice that replies wakes you up, practically setting your body aflame, syllables washing over you as though they come from the font at the altar. Holy. Well, you decide that they are equals.

And, oddly enough, despite moving to another country – despite leaving without saying goodbye, tears in your eyes only cried once your backs had been turned against each other, hands on either side of a door that wasn’t going to open again – you obey her command, slipping on your shoes without hesitation. You step into the lift, examining your tired reflection in the smudged mirror, wondering whether licking your thumb and smoothing out your eyebrows is really going to fix the dark eyebags that act like reverse eyeshadow on your face.

The car that waits outside your building, shadily parked by the pavement across the road, honks once, headlights off. You sigh, accepting your fate, and cross, pulling at the handle of the passenger side, opening the door onto a potentially disastrous night.

“Hola,” says Alexia. Her hair is loose, falling around her shoulders in professional curls. She is in London for a reason, too. From her white shirt and silk trousers, you deduce the kind of reason.

The air is tense, thick with unsaid words and the knowledge of what happened when you last spoke, but you slide onto the leather seat of the rented Audi anyway. “Hola,” you say back. She drives.

There are many questions you’d like to ask her, the first being how she found your address. They sit on your tongue; hopeful, waiting to be said. You swallow and succumb to the heavy silence, listening to the whir of the engine and roll of the tires on the wet tarmac of the roads she drives you down.

She has no map. She knows not where she is taking you, nor why she came in the first place. (The latter is a lie. She misses you. She tells herself she doesn’t.) In truth, she is surprised you don’t notice how she is going round in circles. Maybe you don’t get out much. Maybe you are just as miserable as she has been.

You moved away eight months ago. She has craved your presence for nine. No, ten. Maybe even for a lifetime.

Maybe you feel the same, though she wouldn’t know.

Maybe you want to come home.

Maybe leaving her has only shown you what was always there. What is no longer waiting for you in your apartment after late-night studio sessions or long, draining meetings. What is not a set weekend plan anymore: football matches; dinners with her team; nights at clubs together, dancefloor commandeered and dominated, dingy bathroom not long after. Then, Alexia realises that she has gambled, and that bets can be lost.

Though, if you had found someone else to dance with – to love, really – you’d probably be with them right now.

She wants to say something. Apologise, perhaps. Or ask how you are, solely to discover your current relationship status.

You get there first.

“It’s been a while since I have heard from you.”

She glances across the dashboard, turning right onto a long, tree-lined drive, not caring whether this may be trespassing. It’s hard to look at the road when she could be looking at you instead.

“I have been busy,” she offers.

“I see.”

She bites her tongue, eyes squinting in frustration with herself. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens, though you hardly notice, too occupied with searching for your self-control. You’ve never been blessed with much of it, but it exists within you to a certain extent. Surely.

You know you are wrong when she parks once more outside of your building, this time getting out. You follow suit, taking her hand wordlessly, leading her inside.

Instead of looking into the mirror, she presses you up against it, hands on your hips as you nod, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Her eyes are wild, and you’d think she were drunk if she hadn’t been driving you around for the past twenty minutes. You don’t have to tell her to kiss you. She already knows what to do.

The lift doors open on your floor. You tug her out, taking her home. To your home – a word no longer shared between the two of you.

Your apartment is as dark as you left it, Netflix asking if you are still there as it interrupts Sex Education. You are now accidentally on the next episode.

She laughs quietly when she sees the TV, mouth opening against yours, sound in your mouth as you work to be consumed by her. You’ll probably regret this tomorrow morning.

Alexia takes off her coat, draping it over the back of the sofa. You smile to yourself, choosing to not be conflicted by how comfortable she is here. She knows you well. You like to tidy on your own, and you will set aside her coat somewhere else later. She gives you the freedom – the break in your kiss – to tell her to redress. To get out.

She waits a second more when it does not come.

You undo the top button of her shirt while she stands, paused in your new apartment, breathing in the lingering smell of fresh paint. There are scuff marks on the skirting boards, and she is reminded that it has been eight months. That you have had time to create another life here. It seems as though you, now onto the second button, still manage to mould yourself around her, however.

“Ale,” you murmur, tracing your pinkie finger across the exposed skin of her chest. “It’s okay. I…”

And she heavily relates to your failure to get the words out.

Instead of bearing the silence that should follow, she ignores the alarm bell in her head that warns her not to break her heart all over again, and leans in to kiss you once more, lips soft and familiar and addictive.

Your body feels electric against hers as she kisses you harder and harder. Your mind, for once, is at peace. The first time it has been since you moved here.

You take her to your bedroom, kissing your way down her neck as she lifts your hoodie over your head, muscular arms well-versed in this action. There have been others, you’ve heard.

Topless, you sit on your bed, crumpling the fresh sheets. “I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl,” you say, catching your breath. She stands in front of you, looking down, eyes fixed on yours despite the cleavage on display being such a tempting exhibit.

There is guilt here with the two of you, now. She wants to make you feel like you are the only person in the world, but she knows you won’t believe her.

“What you heard is true,” she replies, reluctant to admit it. “But I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You scoff, lying back anyway. She kneels over you, a leg either side of your waist. “I’ve been there too. A few times.” The pang of jealousy that strikes her low in her stomach spurs her on as she reconnects her lips with yours.

You watch as concentration takes over her, letting her touch you, kiss you, caress you. You haven’t even told her to slow down. If anything, you wish she’d speed up and just get to it already, remembering just how good she makes you feel.

She explores your body like she knows it but wants to learn it all over again, kissing the scars and the freckles and the tattoos that litter your body, all equally important features of the woman that sends her soaring above the clouds. You keen under her touch, whining as your patience depletes.

“Please,” you breathe. Alexia slides down your body, her lips skimming the hollow of your throat. You gasp as she kisses the valley between your breasts, the slight tickle of her hands ghosting your ribs making you feel a thousand things at once.

It all crashes into one as she kisses you over your underwear. Your hand laces through her hair, tousling it. You prefer that over how her stylist does it, anyway.

Her lips brush the waistband of the black fabric, hooking her fingers underneath the elastic, giggling at the way you raise your hips in anticipation. Instead, she chooses to swipe through your folds, circling your clit as you protest half-heartedly. You grip the bedsheets as her fingers dip inside of you, tucking and curling. “Good?” Your back arches as at the welcome invasion. You silently beg for her to leave you more breathless than you already are. She somehow hears your thoughts and inches your underwear down, slotting herself between your thighs, lying on her stomach.

Warm lips caress your inner thigh, teasingly making you ask her for more through your involuntary moans. Alexia’s hot breath ghosts over your clit. “Joder,” you swear. You crane your head up to watch at the first bold swipe of Alexia’s tongue against you. Her lips are hotter than her breath as she kisses you, open-mouthed and needily. Her tongue glides through your wetness, stopping at your entrance. Another urgent moan spills from your lips as her tongue slips inside of you, her hands cupping your bum, bringing you closer to her.

You squeeze your eyes shut, death-gripping whatever you can hold onto, as her tongue makes its way up to your clit. The disappointing emptiness is not felt for long; tongue quickly replaced by two skilled fingers. You groan as she curls inside of you.

Your orgasm builds, months overdue. You grind into her.

She pulls away.

Your eyes flicker open at the loss of contact. “What?” you pant.

She kneels up and brings her hand to her mouth, her soft lips enveloping her glistening fingers. Her eyes stare up at yours, intense and lustful, her lips turning upwards in a devilish smile. It is the sexiest thing you have ever seen.

Her hair hangs down as she leans over you, shirt still just as done-up as it was when you had last been focused on things other than how good it feels to have Alexia between your legs. The pause, hot and breathy, enables her to pull the white material off, lacy bralette barely covering anything.

You undo the clasp at the back expertly, throwing the bralette somewhere that will prolong her nakedness in your bed. You groan, a common sound now, at the sight of her, hands cupping her breasts as she grows bashful.

When her thigh connects with your centre, she loses her shyness. She can feel how wet you are, and, really, she feels sorry for you.

Once more, she slips her fingers inside you, adding another this time. Your back curves upwards, your muscles trembling. Alexia’s free hand rests on your navel, holding you down as her tongue swirls around your clit.

She sends you reeling; catapulting you head-first into a land of bliss.

When you have both showered — much, much later — you let her distance herself from you in your bed. She’s a stranger now, you tell yourself.

Alexia leaves London the next day, with no plea to take you home with her.

You spend another evening in front of the TV, deciding that yesterday was only a blip in your routine. But, you know, deep down, that she will be back. Or vice versa. You’ll never go out of style.

[memoria-99]

Time limit premise in Ikemen series... and why Vamp is the worst in that sense

Don't misunderstand, I really like Vamp and this has nothing to do with my personal likes.

So the setting of each Ikeseries game from Cybird is like this

Sen: MC who time traveled, 3 month time limit

Rev: MC who went to another world, 1 month limit

Vamp: MC who time traveled, 1 month time limit

Ĺive: MC who was living in that world, no time limit

Gen: MC who was living in that world, no time limit

Pri: MC who was living in that world, 1 month time limit

Vil: MC who was living in that world, 1 month time limit

And among these, the one that this time limit premise is done in the poorest way is Vamp.

This is mostly because MC has only a month(or two, in the later routes but still) and once she leaves she can never come back.

Well, ok you could fall in love in a month, that's acceptable, but giving up your whole life in 21st century for the dude who you've only known for a month? To make matters worse, this MC is good at speaking multiple languages but it's just necessary for everyday life, not like it helps her significantly or makes her a job. The only thing she does in 19th century France is to do chores with Sebastian. I mean, of course that's an important work, yes, but... it has nothing to do with her specialties or dreams or anything. In the worst case scenario if she breaks up with the dude, her choice to be with him leaves her nothing. She just wasted her time doing chores in the random mansion.

At least Sen MC has 3 months, which is absolutely better than one, and she actually has a proper job to do with her specialty in that timeline.

Rev MC is from another world but going back and forth between her world and the guy's isn't very much of a big deal compared to Sen or Vamp. Just wait for a month and she could always go to another world and vice versa.

Live and Gen MCs are in the same world with the guys and don't have any kind of time limit so they have nothing to be bothered.

Pri and Vil MCs have 1 month time limit, but still they're in the same world with the guys so they could always meet even after the deadline, if they really wanted to.

But Vamp MC only has 1 month, and she'll never see the guys again once she leaves that timeline. So she's like "Oh I love him so much, I don't wanna leave him" but 1 month is not enough time to decide whether you could give up all you had including careers, dreams, family and become the housekeeper only for the sake of love.

And this isn't Cybird's game, but Court of Darkness from Voltage has a similar setting, MC going to another world(without the time limit). And at least this MC is an orphan and she mentioned herself that no one will be there for her even if she went back. So it's more acceptable that she chose life in new world, since it's pretty much indicated that she doesn't have much attachment to her previous world.

But Vamp MC? She has family. She has friends. She has job. Why in the world would she abandon all those just for a guy she had just met.

[sincerely-sofie]

saw your tags on some of my darkrai posts and the possibility of incorporating my take on him for your Dugtrio Day au is fun.. mainly because I wanna see echo tear a hole in his wicked perception of "actually eternal darkness kinda rocks and you suck for trying to stop it".

Darkrai: "Your fight is nothing but a pointless endeavor, child. Soon enough, the darkness will return all to how everything should've been. No longer will everyone be hurt by emotions of folly, and their primordial senses will be sharpened once more! This is how it all should be."

Echo: "you're a sad, strange lonely man, aren't you?"

Darkrai, visibly hurt but not letting her catch up on that: "shut up."

The best part of this is that, depending on which route I take with the AU's storyline, Echo would either have every last one of Darkrai's monologues memorized down to the punctuation marks or absolutely no idea who he is. I haven't decided yet whether the time loop includes the events of the post-game or not.

If it does, Echo is so bored of Darkrai's antics that she keeps herself sane by coming up with creative new ways to mock and unsettle him. He says something menacing about her deepest fears (99% of which she's gone through extensive exposure therapy for by virtue of dealing with Darkrai with every last one of the time loops, and honestly isn't that scared of anymore) and she tells him he's a no-neck-having nincompoop with ninety-nine problems, and his Darwinist outlook on the world is all of them.

If it doesn’t, Echo and Pinna come out of the time loop shenanigans with a newly evolved sylveon Echo who would take one look at Darkrai during the Dark Crater confrontation and, out of the blue, flatly tell him “You’ve never been held by someone while you cried on their shoulder before, have you. You’re alone and have no one who’s shown you kindness and you use that fact to justify a ruthless outlook on life instead of confronting the fact no one’s ever loved you. You’re a pitiful and lonely person who refuses to accept the fact that you’re sad and have nothing and no one, and so you make it everyone else’s problem instead of self-reflecting on why exactly that is and what you can do about it.”

Pinna is just watching this from the sidelines while Darkrai gapes at Echo like:

[theblackdandelion]

my theories for Bridgerton S3 pt2

might be a bit spoiler-y, so don't read if you want to be 100% in the dark (which is fair, i wish i had that kind of self-control)

my guess on what's gonna happen based on the teaser for pt2 and some photos that were released and then deleted from different ig accounts (about which i know thanks to Sammy Bates's videos):

afer Colin announces the engagment, Eloise and Pen have the arguement where El asks "does he know?" - Pen tells her she's gonna stop, that she will write her last column where she will say goodbey, she'll maybe even use a line from the books - "i cannot make heads or tails from a world where Penelope Featherington will marry a Bridgerton" (i'm paraphrasing). Eloise isn't happy but is willing to accept this for the time being

Queen is gonna be displeased with this - one of her few entertainments is going away? no way! we're gonna hunt her down using the ton and 5 grand!

Cressida gets on the train, El refuses to help her (saw this here, sorry, don't remember the user, but their friend from Ireland is a reporter and saw the whole season an told her what happened, apparently; plus one of the photos in Sammy Bates video is of what Cressida has written as LW), and this fake Whistledown is what gets delivered when Colin is looking scared or whatever around the 0:32 mark in the teaser for pt2 (see attached picture). Also, i think this whole scene is happening during their engagement ball or something similar, but also might be on their wedding, but i hope it's before the wedding

Pen gets angry, because no way is she letting Cressida of all people take her work, and decides to publish one more time. Colin finds out (one photo from Sammy's video is of Colin seein Pen in the printer shop with her blue cloak on), que Carriage Scene 2.0 (i heard there might be another one, but i don't recall whether it was just a someone saying "if only" or if it was someone who said they knew it was gonna happen). They fight, they take time apart, they'll make up. Sometimes during this Colin starts to figue oout "shit, i wanna be a writer", and Pen releases her pamphlet about Cressida not being LW

Cressida figures out Pen is LW and starts to blackmail her. Pen freaks out, Colin tells her to chill, he's got it covered (he loves to save Pen, this is basically another of his wet dreams coming true), he plans to tell everyone so Cressida won't be able to hold it above their heads, he tells Anthony and the rest of the family (at this point i'm just following the book's plot)

Pen has no idea wha Colin has planned, is very stressed, faints, everything ends up well. Her faintin was because she's pregnant (another user pointed out that in regency era stories fainting often meant that that chracter is pregnant and she doen't know yet), she's the one to give birth to a boy (her sisters have daughters), and she's the new Lord Featherington's mama

Bridgertons' reaction to who LW is

i also read somewhere that different people will find out who LW is and there's gonna be an array of reactions to the news. So, here are my guesses at he reactions:

Anthony - shock, just shock. He'll be looking at Colin for 5 minutes and just asking what??! with question marks instead of pupils

Benedict - he's gona laugh his ass of

Colin - anger, betrayal, jelaousy, acceptance, pride

Daphne - no Daphn this season, so no reaction. shame

Francesca - calm surprise

Gregory - he won't care that much, he's not that interested in gossip

Hyacinth - she's gona be over the moon. Her new sister is Lady Fucking Whistledown?! Fuck yeah!!! (she won○t be too happy about having to imitate glue, though. IYKYK)

Violet - she'll try not to lose her cool, and will be mostly perplexed. It's a depth of Penelope she never expected to exist, but at the end of the day, Colin loves her and that's all that matters to Mama Bridgerton

Kate - Kate's gonna be probably happy there's another person with more than half a braincell in this family, and won't be angry (there wasn't that many bad things Pen wrote about the Sharmas)

Also, I very much hope for bi!benedict to happen this season. if it doesn't i'll survive it, but it would just make sense if it did

If you read all the way here, congratulatons. Sorry for the typos and me giving up on upper case somewhere in the middle of this. Have a nice day. Get yourself a coockie, you diserve it.

All of those things are just my theories and nothing more. I don't know anything about the production of this or any other TV show. I am just an obssessed 25yo

[steamworkscogstone]

[Edit: Sep 29th 2024]

HEART THIS BEFORE YOU FOLLOW ME, PLEASE! It helps me to know who has and has not read this so I may direct their attention to it.

DNI: 18+ ONLY BLOG, No terfs and swerfs, no transmed truscum, no ageless blogs, Nothing Illegal, NO MINORS, Nobody who openly and actively hates, especially on the transgender community (which includes my non-binary siblings) DO NOT SELL ME SHIT, AND DO NOT SEND ME STUFF TO SIGNAL BOOST! I CANNOT HANDLE THAT STUFF MENTALLY, ANYMORE..

PLEASE READ MY PINS ON THIS POST, YA ADORABLE DEGENERATES. 😁

HEART THIS BEFORE FOLLOWING SO I KNOW WHO'S SAFE!! 😊 😊 😊

Ayyo, check these links before following and interacting, too!!:

So first up, I've put my goofy ass on the hellsite, and did a fun little selfie dump! (Maybe some tummy Tuesdays in the near future?)

Secound is an important thread of consciousness, please read with discretion and understand that I do not tag triggers (because I struggle with tagging as is. Anyway, so this is the bit ya wanna read before interacting with me)

Alright, so I have yet another link that is dealing with an answer to an anon, but it is extremely important as it gives better context to the post/s linked above: more Steamworks lore, yay..

(I apologize about the long winded text, but that's just how I do things. I'm a writer, at least in a texting format. 😅)

Warnings: I am a pro-shipper and anti-censorship, I love using the word queer and I identify as such, while also enjoying identifying the people I text with as such. I enjoy what I enjoy and I have heavy kinks. If any of these warnings are in your DNI or makes you uncomfortable, then please block me and do not report me.

I AM A HARRY POTTER MOVIE ENJOYER! I UNDERSTAND JK ROWLING IS A DEVILOUS PIECE OF SHIT AND EVEN THAT IS TOO KIND OF AN INSULT FOR HER! I WATCH THE MOVIES THRU 3RD PARTY MEANS, AND I REFUSE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING HARRY POTTER THAT IS NEW WHILE SHE IS ALIVE, AND WILL FIND ALTERNATIVE WAYS TO PLAY THE NEW GAMES BECAUSE THEY GENUINELY LOOK FUN. Please, please ask yourself why you decide to attack those, ESPECIALLY IN YOUR OWN COMMUNITY, over something they grew up with and actively love as an adult? We are all just trying to get through this life, and all have our own things that help us escape; we are already so divided and splintered, and so you actively hating your trans brothers and sisters, and nonbinary siblings (who barely make up 1 million on the United States' population already) is simply hurting too many people.

Peace, love, acceptance, and alternative means of coming to a peaceful resolution is what I desire in this world. A world that is already so painfully divided, whether that be by a screen or you actively choosing to hate, is just such a burden on those who will be trying so hard to make a name for themselves. Yes, I just pulled a "think of the children" because, seriously stating that seems so obvious and yet, too many people are dismissive of it when they are literally the future.

Do NOT come after me for my existence, and if you see I am following you and decide against the things I enjoy and my personal beliefs and message, then just block me. PLEASE DON'T REPORT ME.. 😖

Eh, fuck it: I'm making my hearted posts public again, and if you don't like it then leave and I know we're not chill with each other. Love ya still, even for those who do leave, or are too afraid to follow because of them having mutuals they really click with, but would absolutely shun them for enjoying what I absolutely adore! I SEE YOU!

[RAMBLING INCOMING]

Okay, so this is going to be my pinned post, and it's going to be a heavy work in Progress. I've gotten some feedback from a couple people, and well, I'm not okay with how stiff and forced my original pin came out. I know I can write something better and will when I have the time.

Name: Prefer Coggy or Golem while first interacting; more personal names given the closer we become.

Age: Currently 23 at the time of this edit. (2024)

Gender: Femboy/Tomgirl transfem mess of an existing baby femby. The body has been thru a physical transition, although difficult and uneasy, since 2018. We actually just recently marked the 6th year of being on whoremones. Most of us do lean more towards femininity than masculinity however, the hosts gender is ever evolving as the months go on. We have been on this wild and zany rollercoaster of The Gender Journey™ since 2016 when the host started socially transitioning at 15, and even today there is still heavy developments.

We obviously have a list of limits on our kinks and fetishes, however we do not feel comfortable sharing things just yet, as there are a lot of people we enjoy following, but seem to wish to shun those with certain fetishes by blocking them.

DESIRES ARE INHERENTLY NEUTRAL, AS MOST OF THEM ARE THING WE ARE BORN WITH THAT CANNOT BE TRANSFORMED OR REMOVED FROM ONES IDENTITY (such as gender and sexual identity). AS WE FORM LATER ON, KINKS AND FETISHES BECOME NEW DESIRES, AND THUS SUCH THINGS ARE INHERENTLY NEUTRAL AS WELL.

Need to update the tags. (It's a safe call to go off of what I've tagged one of my more recent personal posts or reblogs with text.)

Yeah, more to add later!

(List of things to add: Mutuals list, tags, stuff)

[uncle-fruity]

Here's something from my brain:

Telling transmascs they shouldn't go on T because they'll "become ugly" is still rooted in patriarchal ideals & expectations. It's why every TERF is hard to take seriously when they insist they're trying to fight sexism.

What's the ugly part? The body hair? The balding? The deepening voice? The potential for weight/muscle gain?

So, by that standard, cis women with body hair, cis women who are balding, cis women who gain weight and/or muscles, and cis women with deeper-than-average voices are, BY TERF'S OWN LOGIC, ugly.

Oh? Do you think that all women are meant to be frail? Thin? Hairless bodies? Thick head of hair? Wispy "feminine" voices? What are you trying to say about how women's bodies are supposed to be? Do you think ALL women have the same body type? The same standards of beauty? Is beauty every woman's top priority? Should it be?

You know who else freaks out about "manish" women? Basically, all the people who think women are objects to be seen & not heard. All the people who think women are their sexual playthings and little more. It's a trope throughout literature & media to paint strong, outspoken women as manish & undesirable. A trope that TERFs seem happy to exploit for their own ideals. Because if they want to prescribe womanhood onto us, they must also accept that they are unhappy with the way we are living through our womanhood, and think it's reasonable to control and legislate our bodies based on their personal belief about how women should behave & think.

Being a woman is not about how pretty you are. It isn't about what you owe to the people who would rather you shut up and be demure. And for TERFs to use these insecurities that the patriarchy instills in young girls to dissuade them from making choices for themselves is honestly a disgusting tactic.

I don't even care if you (wrongly) connect biology to gender. If someone looks at me, a trans guy with ~2 years of hormone treatments under my belt, and decides that I'm an ugly woman based on the vagina they're assuming I have and probably the tits that I definitely still have, fine. Maybe it's the nonbinary in me, but if you wanna purposefully (incorrectly) call me a woman, then that shitty decision is yours to make. Now, ask yourself.... why are you mad that a woman (by your own standards) is choosing something for her own body?

These are the same people who get mad when trans guys claim historical figures like Dr. James Barry as one of our own. There's no way to tell how he'd identify if he was using modern language to describe himself without resurrecting him and asking directly. But, in the end, whether he was a woman seeking to break through barriers of sexism or whether he was a trans man in a time before we would have called him that, he chose to live a life that is similar to the one many transmascs choose for themselves. He expressed himself in a way that is familiar to transmascs. And I have no doubt that these fucko TERFs would try to belittle and tear him down just the same as they do any of us. In fact, it was a woman who undressed him against his will after he died and exposed him as a "woman" postmortem. We can't say for sure if she'd identify as a TERF if she were using modern language to describe herself without resurrecting her and asking directly, but we can safely say that she's not the kind of person I'd like to know either way. Her mother should have taught her about consent.

If I was a woman trying to escape the patriarchy by transitioning (a common, completely stupid ass take btw since everyone who isn't at the very top of the power chain is a victim of the patriarchy (among other things)), would you mock me? Admire me? Sympathize with me? Tell me I'm delusional? Call me ugly? Tell me I should think more about my ability to bear children with my womb? Would you join me in trying to escape oppression? Would you hate me for trying? Have you decided that men are the enemy, and therefore I've betrayed my sisters in a war I reject wholeheartedly? Would you hold me down? Get your friends to beat me up? Tell me I deserve the violence in my life? Undress my dead body? Tell me I'm crazy? Force me to put on a dress? Force me to shave? Tell me to brighten my voice? Tell me it's a shame I've destroyed my feminine smile? Would you dare try to drag me back to the patriarchal depths like crabs in a barrel?

At the end of the day, it's all about telling people how they should live their life. How they should look, which beauty standards they should care about, which roles they should identify with, who they should be beholden to... And if those people disagree, maybe they're just hysterical mentally ill or being manipulated. Lock 'em in a room with some yellow wallpaper to keep it cheery until they change their minds!

Do you see? The parallels? How, even if we accept that your fake science is actually real science, and claim womanhood based on our vaginas and tits and ability to sometimes bear children, you are still denying us agency by taking away the right to express our gender however we choose. If I'm a woman who looks like a man, or who acts like a man, why is that a problem for you? Why do these gender barriers matter to you? Don't you see that in taking control of gender, we defang a critical branch of the patriarchy?

Sexist ass cult mindset, -10/10.

[pengouiz]

We Won't Work in the End, even so, I Keep Hoping Pt. 1

wedding planner!heeseung x fem!reader

content: 1.5k words, angst, hyunjin is reader's fiancé, reader gets married too quick lol, like one cuss word, hyunjin's mom is a bitch, heeseung is kinda a flirt, thats pretty much it

a/n: omg first rodeo kind of nervous guys🫣 pt.2 will be out some time idk

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ house of cards - bts ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Pt. 2

You shut the door as you let out a heavy sigh. You curse yourself for being so irrational. Hyunjin is a great boyfriend. However, you did not expect to be engaged after three months of dating.

You had just gotten home that day after getting a promotion at work. Hyunjin grinned at you as you walked in through the door. He had made you guys dinner that night, and he rarely does that. Everything that day had been going your way.

“Thank you baby, the food tastes amazing.” you say before stuffing your mouth once again. You guys were nearly finished eating, that was until Hyunjin got up from his seat.

“Y/n you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met” He says as he gets on one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket, “You make me happier than I could ever describe in words and I wanna take this step with you. Will you marry me y/n?”

And that's how you ended up here, dress fitting with hyunjin’s mom.

“Hurry up y/n! there's still more to go through”

You look at yourself in the mirror, brows furrowed as you analyze the way the dress fits your body and fills the spacious fitting room. it's too tight, making it difficult to breathe. You’ve lost count of how many dresses you’ve tried on.

You unlock the fitting room door and make eye contact with hyunjin’s mom. She's always had an opinion on your guy’s relationship, never believing any girl was good enough for her son. You try to be accepting of her judgmental personality, after all, she's gonna be your mother in law.

“It's too tight and I hate how long it is.” you say in an exhausted tone.

“Oh but y/n, it's perfect! Plus, it's only for one day and I'm sure hyunjin will love it.” she challenges

“I appreciate you helping…” you pause, contemplating on whether you should say what you're about to say, “but this is my wedding so why should it matter if you like the dress?”

“Of course it should matter! I’m the only one who knows what's best for him” she says condescendingly.

You scoffed, going back into the fitting room to remove the dress. You put on your hoodie and sweatpants, feeling relieved to be back in comfortable clothing. You check the time, it's almost time to meet with your wedding planner.

“We can finish this tomorrow, I have to meet with the wedding planner” you say, walking past Hyunjin’s mom.

“The least you can do is pick a dress. I knew you weren’t good enough to marry my son.” you decide to ignore her irritating tone and begin walking to your car, being too tired to argue and knowing Hyunjin would take her side, he always did.

—

You arrive at the cafe, scanning the tables in an attempt to find your planner. You spot a guy, typing on his laptop, taking a break to drink his coffee. You walk up to him, hoping you read him right.

“Hi are you a wedding planner by any chance?” your voice quiet as you scramble for your phone, trying to find his name “Lee Heeseung?”

“Yeah I am, im guessing you must be y/n” he answers as he pushes his glasses up

“Yes! Yes, that’s me” You put your hand out to shake his. He grabs your hand and gives it a firm shake. You smile as you wait for him to pull his hand away but he keeps his eyes on you. You clear your throat and he finally lets go.

“Sorry” he mumbles, “We should get started”

—

You and Heeseung talk until it’s dark outside. You discuss the budget and the venue for the wedding, along with getting to know each other. You look around the cafe, realizing the staff is cleaning up and getting ready to close.

“It’s getting pretty late. Could we finish this tomorrow?” you ask as you stand up.

He smiles at you, “Tomorrow works for me.” shutting off his laptop and stuffing it in his bag.

You walk out of the cafe with heeseung and walk towards your car. You see heeseung begin to walk and for a moment you wonder if you should offer him a ride.

“Hey um would you want to ride with me? I mean you know, I could take you home. It's the least I can do since you're planning my wedding?” you ask, unsure of why you're hoping he takes you up on your offer.

“If you really don't mind, I would love to” He smiles at you

He gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. It’s quiet, both of you enjoying the view of the city and the comfort of night. You want to say something, desperate to start a conversation with him. Luckily for you, he speaks up first.

“What made you want to get married?” Curiosity laced his voice as he glanced over to you, watching you come up with an answer.

“I wish I could tell you a happy reason, like I fell in love with him or I believed he was my soulmate.” you say, gripping the wheel tighter, “But no, I said yes because I had just been in a good mood. That's it, that's the reason. And I’m not even sure it's what I want anymore” you sigh, feeling relieved to say that.

You both stay quiet for what feels like forever, the tension of your outburst lingering in the car. Heeseung doesn’t know how to comfort you, especially since you just met 5 hours ago.

“I’m sorry, today’s been chaotic. I didn’t mean to dump that on you” you say, hoping you didn’t scare off your wedding planner.

“No worries. You’d be surprised how many couples I meet that definitely aren't ready for…” He trails off, realizing what he said. “S-sorry I didn’t mean you and hyunjin I’m sure you guys-” 

You cut him off, “No it's okay, you're right. Hyunjin is so caring and he’s great but it’s all too much, too soon. I mean come on, his own mother doesn't like me. He always hears her out, always takes her side, but what about me?” You don't realize how loud you're yelling or how your voice begins to break. You blink back tears, looking everywhere but Heeseung, too embarrassed to look at him.

You park your car in front of his apartment, upset at the fact that you wasted that entire car ride whining about a marriage you agreed to. Heeseung thanks you for the ride but before he closes the car door, he says something that warms your heart.

“Marriage isn't always easy y/n. I’m here to help you, we’ll get through this together. It’ll be okay, even if your soon to be mother-in-law is a bitch.” you find yourself giggling at heeseung’s comment but quickly pull yourself together to say your goodbyes and start driving home.

—

“Where have you been y/n? I’ve been waiting for you!” Hyunjin says as soon as you shut the door of your home.

“I was meeting with our wedding planner” you say as you pour yourself a glass of water, feeling your fatigue set in. “Really? Cause that's not what my mom said” Hyunjin spits back.

You put, no, you slam your cup down onto the counter. “Oh yeah? And what exactly did she say, Hyunjin? Since your mom seems to know everything.”

You look at him, your eyes piercing through him. “Why are you so tense y/n? What's your problem?” Hyunjin asks, shocked by your hostile behavior. “My problem is this!” you wave your hands in the air, “This Hyunjin, your mother is always creating problems between us and you do absolutely nothing about it.” There’s silence in return. You and Hyunjin just stare at each other, except you’re fighting tears and hyunjin looks completely unbothered?

“I don't know what you want me to do y/n. that's my mom, I can't accuse her of lying” he says monotone. By now you’re sobbing from frustration and Hyunjin’s inability to care, “I am your fiancée Hyunjin, soon to be wife! So why is it you can accuse me of lying? Why are you able to defend her all the time but you can't seem to defend me? Why is it you believe every word that comes out of her mouth?” you storm upstairs, no longer wanting to talk and explain yourself over and over again.

“Wait- y/n! Let's talk please!” He chases you but you slam the door of your shared bedroom in his face and lock it. You hear his pleas and his attempts to get you to open the door but you’ve heard enough today. “If your mom is always right, why don’t you go over to her house huh? Why don’t you go ahead and tell her about this, I’m sure she’ll pamper you like always.” you say as exhaustion consumes your body. Before your eyes close, you hear the front door downstairs slam shut and you’re not sure if you’re disappointed or angry, maybe both.

[sparklyaxolotlstudent]

My own headcanon and backstory is that Mr Komos has an older sister who was born 100% human( the opposite of Komos being 100% monster) she somehow end up falling in love with a monster and they have a child.

To add more drama, Henrietta Jekyll's mom and Dr Jekyll divorced and her mom took her. Henrietta never knew about her having a little brother, as Jekyll and Hyde were lynched before he could introduce them, and while Mrs Komos was still pregnant.

I'm still debating on whether if I want Holt and Heath being cousins in this gen, especially with Heath dad being either Hades or the Devil, and the precedent of Howleen and Clawdeen being unrelated. Also, I kinda wanna make him the son of an air spirit... But I'm rambling... Anyway, Henrietta's mother was always open about her monster heritage, so it was not a surprise when her son was able to switch (it will be ambiguous if Jackson or Holt are the "original")

Due to them being teens and their trigger having changed at least once, Henrietta decided to enroll them at Monster High, but knowing the human prejudice (she herself suffering from it) they decided Holt would be the "main" personality to attend classes.

Everything is going awesome at first, but the students soon discover he is the nephew of Mr Komos, who tried to destroy the school, and ironically, they start to target him for that. Deuce is the first person to defend him, followed by Clawdeen and the others. Holt introduces them to Jackson.

Jackson feels a bit awkward being the only human in the group, and develops an interest in witchcraft, which Draculaura of course welcomes, and helps him learn.

Eventually, they accidentally release Mr Komos to normal, and before he goes into a rampage, Clawdeen calms him down and introduces him to his nephews. Jackson in particular looks A LOT like him and his dad. The revelation that this generation of monsters is much more accepting than before made him have a change of heart, and to keep teaching. I mean, he still has to pay for his crimes, but so do the people who kicked Mr Hyde out and basically provoked his death, so they decide to start again. Mr Komos gets to know his nephews and they later introduce him to their mom.

I’m debating to what to keep and what to throw of their characterization. I like de Jackson in the diaries more than the one in the series, but the geek chic is kind of already been covered by Frankie AND Mr. Komos. Maybe make him more into a skater boy geek? And since Holt has been “active” and they’re aware of each other, he wouldn’t have a need to stand out and yell every other phrase, so he could have other interests.

 Neighthan Rot. Mostly the same backstory as before, he’s half unicorn and half zombie, and is not really discriminated against for being a hybrid, but he still gets some weird looks and interactions for being a zombie unicorn (Like… How?).

He reached Monster High and immediately takes a liking to Frankie, who is completely oblivious to his attraction, which creates some awkward interactions between them. Neighthan interprets Frankie’s obliviousness as them being politely uninterested on him romantically, so he stops pursuing them, but they are still good friends.

Being a unicorn, Neighthan can naturally cast spells and has magic, and unlike witchcraft, unicorn magic is seen as “normal” in the monster world, so he can use magic freely around school (Well… within limits, of course), which causes some resentment and envy from Draculaura, who at first sees him as a rival and tries to prove her magic is better than his. While Draculaura’s magic works more with her hands, almost all of Neighthan spells come from his unicorn horn, but he sometimes uses his hands to direct his spells.

Draculaura Magical aura is hot pink, Jackson is electric yellow, and Neighthan is blue.

[catenation]

Bido is gonna be the show stealer here isnt he. I wanna know what his relationships and general opinions are towards the other characters that end up in this main group of yours

cracks my knuckles (and also thank you so much for sending all these i feel the spirit of Story entering me once more)

in rough order from goodest to baddest:

greed: i could write entire essays about greed and bido even just in the context of what little we see of their relationship in canon but suffice it to say things are complicated in there. on the one hand theyre undeniably close. even disregarding how close i think they were before, just by process of elimination at the start of this theyre each flat out the most important person in each others life. bido has incredible depths of trust and admiration and care and Yearning for greed and greed in return also trusts bido completely, admires him, and loves him in his own "when i call you my possession it definitely definitely definitely doesnt mean my bff" way.

...the problem here is that on the other hand, he did tell bradley during the fight in the sewers that none of his henchmen are his friends. and bido heard that. and greed doesnt tell lies. Whoops.

having all his friends murdered, on its own, is pretty detrimental to greeds progress towards admitting (to himself as well as others) the One Big Thing. the good thing about this is that at least he does still have a guy left who he cares about enough to value HIS feelings on the subject, but the problem is dragging those feelings out into the open in the first place, and bido is going to have to be the one to do it. godspeed.

mei: she comes barreling into his life right as hes in the process of lighting the match to burn all his bridges. needless to say that match winds up tossed into the river. no one is immune. he hasnt gotten along with many kids in the past but mei is polite and earnest enough that he very quickly gets attached and starts thinking of her as part of the group, no matter how bad the fear gets that now he has someone else to lose.

everyone in this group has strong similarities that i think make them really good as a team, and with mei and bido, they each have baseline-quiet personalities interrupted by strong outbursts of emotion, especially getting really mad when they sense an injustice. theyre also both hopeless romantics and optimists at heart, even though bidos had decades to get jaded by his experiences and try to couch his hopes in realism, and mei sort of brings that back out in him, the realization that maybe the world Can be a better place. and in turn he teaches her that sometimes you have to hedge your expectations and work with what youve got. balance......

scar: so. scars got some Hangups, around chimeras. one of the first scenes i pictured when i was brainstorming this was bido and scar discussing nina, and bido bringing his own perspective on what he did that wouldnt really be what scar expected. everything about bido kind of throws scar off a little bit. he isnt sure what to make of him, whether to feel pity or disgust or?? ?compassion? (he is so burnt out on compassion but he cant help it either) (neither of them can help it)

in the end getting to know bido helps scar to realize that despite whats been done to him hes still just. A Guy. and in doing so helps him along the long road to accepting that he, too, is just A Guy.

yoki: bido does not like yoki. yoki is both all things that grate on him in a person (acts like hes still rich, snobby, selfish) and at the same time way too similar to himself for his own liking (weird little man, complains a lot, always scurrying about). he makes him self-conscious in a way he does not like at All. unfortunately for bido yoki (at some point along the line that im still not 100% solid on) decides inexplicably that he has to be Nice to bido and it drives him up the wall because he thinks hes patronizing him but its actually because i thought making yoki the ignored one-sided third point on a love triangle would be really funny.

marcoh: oh he likes marcoh even less than yoki. bidos experiences have created in him a serious distrust of any and all doctors, whether theyve been forced to quit the profession or not, and especially ones associated with the government. marcohs sadsack attitude does not endear him to bido at all and he spends most of his time glaring at or avoiding him. eventually he gets used to him being around, at least enough to stop registering him as a threat, and i do want them to talk at least once, but the two of them are probably the weakest bond in the group all things considered.

i hope very strongly that my bido characterization is enough to make people as excited about him as i am......maybe i can pull in some new bido fans with this. thats really like a solid 80% of the goal here

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Fireflies Over The Wall - Chapter 9

Relationship: The Bell Keeper & Meiri (Original character)

Summary: "The troll brought with herself, every night without a fault, a baby.

Every night, she placed it upon the grass, and pointed upwards, showing her baby the stars and constellations. Showing her baby the fireflies.

Holding it tight. Cuddling with it. Making sure it saw the beauty the world had to offer. He had never considered himself a sentimental man. Yet this image, for some reason, never failed to make him return home feeling something gaping and void inside of himself.

Every one of his former coworkers must have returned to their families.

Who would Edmund return to when he could work no more?

What would give him a reason to get out of bed when the fireflies were no longer enough?"

An OC's origin story as well as a Bell Keeper character study, because this character is much more fascinating than I'd been giving him credit for.

Notes: Title from ‘The Moon Will Sing’ from The Oh Hellos I’m absolutely making up a foster care system for the Hilda world. I don’t wanna deal with the bs and the bureaucracy, they’re all HAPPY and they’re all REASONABLE, I draw the line at upsetting kids. Don’t expect realism here

Chapter title: We made our peace with weariness

Read it on ao3

Edmund found another sprout of Simulim philia one day, when he was walking back home from his post. He noticed it, recognized it, knew its scientific name, and took it home despite its very name pointing to the fact that it was attractive to a bug, and not even the pretty kind. That was when he accepted he was not dealing with the situation as well as he wanted to believe.

He hadn’t heard from Meiri in many days. Weeks, probably, but he’d sort of lost track of time. He’d been used to it when his only way to keep notice of it was jotting down which shifts he’d have to take at the wall, living from twelve hour period to twelve hour period. That had changed once she’d begun visiting, since he’d have something in his life that could vary depending on whether it was a weekday, a saturday, or a sunday, with even a few variations according to which school day it was that meant she’d arrive sooner or later, keeping him situated on the calendar.

It had all gone back to normal, though, and he hadn’t much hope of changing it. He was once again only worrying about which shifts would be his, once again using his free time exclusively for cleaning and trying - failing - to pick up new hobbies, once again refusing to cook since what was the point in doing it for himself?

The only change was that Kaisa called him more often to check on him. She didn’t seem to believe his (very annoyed) assurances that he was doing fine.

The thought of going to Saint Anne’s to see for himself if Meiri was alright had occurred to him more than once, but he figured it wouldn’t be appreciated. If the girl wanted to see him, it wasn’t like they could actually stop her, slippery as she was. So he made his peace with the situation as well as he could, feeling foolish for having gotten so carried away by the situation. He gave himself some grace, though. Now that he was no longer in it, he could see how not being lonely all the time was mighty appealing.

The tricky part was convincing himself that it was only that. Only his feelings and whatever sentimentality he had left getting the best of him, because kids were fun and he was a weirdo who only talked to people once in a blue moon, and if he changed that he wouldn’t feel that urge to take in the first child who implied that his company was enjoyable. He even tried to work on that, deciding to hit some bars on Trolberg’s docks to see if he could fill the people gap in his life with people, the way he was supposed to, instead of with a third of an angry person.

Some of the people he’d met had been nice. One of them had been cryptic, a gambler and made of wood, actually. But none had made him feel any more whole when he came back home to a cabin that had only ever felt small before, but now always looked like it had room for more. The conclusion he was forced to come to was that he wasn’t some lonely old man. He was some lonely old man who was terminally devoted to a kid who was probably the coolest person he’d ever met. Talking about it to Kaisa didn’t help either. She only told him irritably that just because he was going grey early he shouldn’t call himself an ‘old man’ and act like he was going to die in the winter.

He realises now that that was what would have answered Kaisa’s question, once upon a time. What do you wish you had that you don’t? Someone to make time for. Someone to learn their likes and dislikes. Someone he could offer good memories and solace even if other people could do it better. He had found it, but he had to stop dwelling on it, because he had only been harming her - not directly, definitely not on purpose, but he had - and he couldn’t resent that he wasn’t able to do it any longer.

When he finally faced the harsh reality that he was affected by what he’d been through, made inevitable by that fucking sprout which he was eyeing with sadness, standing uselessly in his own kitchen, only then was he able to do anything about it. He had to begin, he figured, by the drawing on the wall which she’d made once upon a time and had, against all odds, survived any and all rain thus far. He would’ve erased it a long time before had it been any other child’s. It was only rational he did it to hers.

So the bell keeper picked up a bucket and a brush he used to wash shoes (not his trusty boots, he’d given up on washing the outside of those ones long ago; he wasn’t wearing them for the looks) and headed outside. He’d never really looked at the drawing before. He could see it when he left the cabin every morning, a splash of colour in the slab of stone directly beside the spot where his wooden wall met the stone one. It brightened him up just a bit to see it there, but he’d never taken a closer look as to what it was.

He’d have done better to keep it that way.

The closer he walked, the more it took shape. Two stick figures; she liked to draw as much as any other child, but it wasn’t really one of her main skills. One was freakishly taller than the other, yet still they held hands because each of them had one arm that was bizarrely long. Tall had the lower half of its face covered in brown swirls of chalk, and what looked like a long sleeved yellow dress, while Short had spikes of black hair and a green square around its torso. Edmund kneeled down in front of it, interpreting the childish traces and knowing right away he wouldn’t have it in him to erase them.

He couldn’t do this. He didn’t know, even now, even after thinking of nothing else for days, if his resolve to stay away was the selflessness he had wanted to take it for or if it was the same fucked up sense of self preservation he’d always had.

He couldn’t leave her behind. Edmund had taken to her quickly, yes, even if he didn’t know how many people would call the span of months ‘quick’. But he had done so because she’d been what his life had been missing, because being around her made him feel like that’s what he was supposed to be doing all along. And if she had latched onto him just as quickly, then it must be because she needed him as well. At the very least, she’d proven she cared. And she’d done so way before he’d gotten himself together.

His mind was made up. Not to necessarily make a point. Certainly not to pressure anyone. But he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t even try to build a bridge, to hold out a branch.

Or, in this case he supposed, a sprout.

…......

Terry was at the reception, which was awfully lucky since it was just who he wanted to talk to. His reaction at seeing Edmund strut right in with all the confidence he didn’t feel went from fearful as he was caught shamelessly flirting with the orphanage’s director, a kind looking man with brown skin and curls, to surprised as he noticed who had walked in on him.

“Edmund?” He asked even though Edmund was quite sure there couldn’t be many other grumpy brunette men who chronically wore puffy yellow coats that were known to visit Saint Anne’s. The director raised an eyebrow at the caretaker, and if Ed was in a better mood he would have begun flirting with Terry just to see if he could create some chaos, but he really wasn’t and let the opportunity slide.

“He’s the guy Meiri talks about.” Terry explained, and the director seemed to immediately know who that was, eyebrows raised in recognition. He rose up from the reception desk’s chair and made a move to shake hands with him, but was left hanging.

“I need to talk to you, mister Hansen.” He said in the most non-nonsense tone he could manage, which after years of practice was essentially perfect. The man looked taken aback.

“Oh! Sure, would you like to go somewhere else?”

“Nah, this is fine.” Though Terry sat down on a chair (as opposed to on top of the desk as he had been before), Edmund remained standing. It made him feel like he had the high ground even though he absolutely didn’t. “Just needed to talk to ya in specific since Meiri seems to prefer you out of the bunch.”

His eyes sparked just a bit, making Edmund wonder if he’d been too harsh in his judgement of the man.

“Really?”

“No. But I don’t want to waste Miss Teresa’s time.”

Though he deflated, he’d taken it as the jest it was meant as. Sort of. Edmund just didn’t really think the cook would tell him anything. He wouldn’t, in her place.

“Anyway. Has Meiri explained why she was so nervous that day?”

He shook his head. The director kept silent, watching them with interest. “She didn’t. But it wasn’t hard to figure out. She’s always been closed off.”

“What does that mean?”

Sighing, Terry gestured for the armchair beside him. Edmund really didn’t want to sit down, but he gave in since he knew that it would make things easier if he cooperated.

“We gathered, considering the conversation we’d had some months prior, that you said something to do with adopting her. Insinuated, at least. Is that correct?”

He nodded, deciding to keep to himself that that day he’d straight up asked. He’d been insinuating for over a month. Only twice, he wasn’t a creep, but he had.

“You see, Edmund, Meiri has always been one of our more standoffish kids.” Terry said, and the director nodded slightly while looking down at his desk, seemingly lost in memory. “She arrived here very young, before she could even speak. That has always been a part of her personality, and that’s just fine. Not all kids want to be adopted. And we aim to care for them all for as long as we can.”

He pointed to a photograph on the nearest wall, and Edmund followed his direction to what he realised was a picture of a younger Terry helping a toddler with tufts of thick black hair and smart eyes take steps forward without wobbling. Without wobbling too much, at least.

“Turns out that for all she withdraws herself, she wants it, though. Someone to lean on. A family. And we try to be that as much as we can, but we have to be it for every child here. And when you have to be supportive of everyone, you end up not being able to pay attention to what each one requires specifically. It’s not what she needs.”

To his credit, he did sound regretful enough of the fact.

“One day, a couple took interest in her. They seemed like decent people; impeccable background check, man worked a full time job and woman was a stay at home. You know the type.”

Edmund nodded, he did know the type. The eyeroll that the director gave at their mention didn’t go unnoticed.

“And, listen, we don’t know for sure what happened there. Meiri wouldn’t speak of it when she came back, no matter how we coached her. But the point is they gave up on her and brought her back.”

“Why?” He asked in earnest. He didn’t think there would be people stupid enough to do something like that, but apparently there were.

“We don’t know.” This time, it was the director speaking. “They gave us the washed up excuse that she was ‘too much for them to handle’. Which is fancy wording for admitting they’re ableist.”

“We won’t pretend to think we always know how to help her.” Terry sighed. “But we do our best to make her comfortable and give her a good childhood. But it’s what I said, we have to do that to every kid here. And there are a lot of them.”

Edmund hunched forward on his seat, a hand on his face, as his understanding of what went on in Meiri’s mind broadened. As much as was possible without hearing anything from her of course. The director spoke again.

“We even tried to sign her up for therapy sessions after that. But she just stayed quiet and refused to say anything at all for the entire duration. We-” He looked down, ashamed. “We had to give up after a couple of them. Not enough funds. But after that she became even more aloof and uncommunicative.”

“We figured that was what scared her so much.” Terry sighed. “The only other time someone showed interest in her in that way… didn’t end well. And she likes you, Edmund. She really does. That’s why she was terrified to begin with.”

The hand that wasn’t on his face held the sprout inside his pocket. He went all the way to that place and for what? Just to have his guts punched by some twink?

The two of them were merciful enough to stay silent while he attempted to process this. He couldn’t say he even began to understand what the thought process had been inside Meiri’s mind, but he now knew at least some of the main factors that had influenced it, and it started to make sense. He kind of wished it didn’t. It was easier to believe he’d done something wrong.

“Do you understand-” Terry said tentatively. “Why I said you shouldn’t see each other anymore?”

Because he had been bitchy due to being awake all night. “Because this type of attachment can get her hurt.”

“Sort of.” He shrugged, sounding less certain of it (which probably had something to do with the director looking at him like he didn’t agree). “I think it’s healthy for kids to have friendships with adults. It’d be kind of weird if I didn’t, it’s sort of my job. But the problem we’re dealing with is that as far as we can tell, she does want to be able to see you as a father. She’d like to fill that post with you. But as long as she doesn’t accept that, and heals enough to stop thinking anyone who shows themself open to her will be a repeat of that couple of twits, neither of you will get anywhere. She’ll keep herself at arm's length, but I don’t think she’d take it well if you decided to do the same. If you started a family, for example. I don’t think she’d deal well with that. That’s what I mean; that’s what you need to think about.”

A headache was beginning to form around his temples, and Edmund sighed. He felt completely drained all of a sudden.

“I see.” He said, even though the words were notorious for not ever meaning or helping with anything, really. What else could he do? “Can you give her something for me?”

Terry blinked, obviously not having foreseen that particular reaction. “Sure, I guess.”

He seemed even more surprised when Edmund took out of his coat’s pocket a green weed the size of his thumb, looking like he didn’t know what to do with it when it was placed on his outstretched hand.

“She’ll appreciate it. Trust me. You don’t have to tell her it was from me, say you found it or something.”

Not seeing anything else he could do, not there and certainly not then, Edmund got up and walked towards the door where he’d come in. He only turned when the director called out his name, offering him a smile when he met his eyes.

“I hope this isn’t the last time I see you, good man.”

He grunted and nodded in acknowledgement in perfect caveman fashion, and stepped back out into the streets.

[weirdo09]

i know that he’s always lying because my stepdad says that when he has an issues with me, he comes to me. he doesn’t, he goes n rats me out to my momma THEN comes to me. he loves having my momma handling me because she will traumatize me and just act like everything’s fuckin normal. she will treat me like less of a person because I FORGET but ofc he doesn’t understand that because he always leaves it to her. when i need somebody, they always leave. like prime example, he came to me talking about some crumbs, he really acts like those itty bitty crumbs makes me a slob or something. i can’t forget to do anything or just not do it right away LIKE A FUCKING DOG without getting scolded, i’m not a pet i’m not a butler i’m not a fucking caretaker so stop acting like i am

you literally love that my momma verbally abuses me when ya wanna escalate the situation by telling her. YOU MAKE EVERYTHING SUCH A BIG DEAL just to say that it isn’t when my momma already went and verbally abused me n made me cry but you did absolutely nothing. you just sit there or go to another room. don’t you dare say that i can always talk to you or that you love me because you don’t. if you did, you wouldn’t enable my mother TO BEAT ME UP when she found out on her own that i was queer and wanted to date a girl. you wouldn’t enable her to yell at me loud as can be when i don’t do something the first time but you do, you do.

don’t say that you love me and can protect me WHEN YOU CANT EVEN PROTECT ME FROM MY OWN MOTHER she’s hurt me so many times and you know what she does to me because you always say that she’s gonna be aggressive with whatever she does. SHE DOES IT BECAUSE YOU TELL HER SOMETHING AND SHE MAKES IT A BIG DEAL you love that she does that because you don’t actually love me, you just don’t. you were never a father figure to me because you can’t even act like a father to your own children.

you enable the woman in your life that you chose to be with to treat me like shit just because and you let her and expect me to just accept it because she’s my momma. no, no you just hate me being happy and not being your little dog and servant/maid. that’s all, y’all never fucking loved me and it shows. someone who loves you would never just sit there and let you be in pain, suffer alone just to say “i love you but you need to do better.” you act like that’s normal, like my momma’s supposed to beat on me n taking things away because that’s holding me accountable? (her words, not mine) no, holding me accountable would be like telling me what i’m accountable for and helping me register that and move on from it.

all y’all did was traumatize me and make me relive that every goddamn day whether you realize it or not. you don’t want me to have my own life because i’m nothing to you, i’m literally nothing but you only like me because i clean for you, i have to obey your every word and if i don’t do something the first time, my momma has to come in and yell at me because you can’t. you’re literally her enabler, if i told someone have the shit you did, y’all would be in jail and i’d be foster care. but i ain’t gonna do that because my momma made me so nice that i would actually feel a bit sad if i did ever tell someone and the chain events happened.

just know that you’re a part of my trauma, you’re a part of the reason i can’t speak any kind of way without expecting a hit, you’re the reason i can’t even be fully happy because what if the one i love the most in the whole wide world actually sees just how messed up i am and leaves me? you’re the reason i can’t bring myself to trust men older than me, you’re the reason i close my door at night, you’re the reason i’d lock it some nights (can’t now but i feel like he did something) you’re the reason i might lose the one person i care about all because you’re mad about some crumbs i left on the counter and decided to talk to my abuser about it who may or may not take my phone and beat me just because.

good job, replacement …..

[cocoartistwrites]

sooooo my dad is a white man and my mom is an asian. they have 11 years age gap. recently i found out that my dad purposely go my mom’s country to find a wife and he was practically grooming her bcs he met her when she was 17 and married her when she turned 19. ntm she came from a poor family and an orphan.

throughout my life i never asked my parents about how they met because i was a very tomboy girl who doesn’t like romance thing. now that im older and somehow my fyp has this asian woman-white man discourse that will not go away.

realizing this make me feel sick tbh. i wanna hate my dad but at the same time he treated her so well and she loves him. i think he loves her more because she is so spoiled by him. i used to look at them and think that they are couple goals. but now i have this mixed sickening feeling.

i can’t talk to my dad about this but i’m harboring this resentment towards him. and i find myself hugging my mom more and crying. she has a very good life here. i know and i’m aware we have so many privileges. my mom did get her bachelor’s degree and got a job here.

my mom is so kind, so so so so smart, so beautiful and clever and absolutely the best person in the world. sometimes i wonder if she never got married young what would happen to her? i know she will be the coolest and most compassionate woman. i know she will have amazing career like marine biologist or something awesome.

i have the urge to protect her even though my dad is not threatening and kind actually. but i resent him for taking away her youth.

i just don’t know how to behave when he’s around. he noticed i’m getting distant but i said it’s because of homeworks. help pls

This is a really tough one isn’t it. I don’t think you can be angry at your mum’s imagined lost future, firstly. She was young but she made a choice that she has chosen to stick with all her life, she went to university, she got a job, she found her own way out of poverty, she had you - she’s happy. Yes she was very young, but also it seems like this has worked for them. If she hadn’t married him she might have actually been worse off. Sure she might have done something cooler but did she want to? If she was living in poverty and an orphan I am sure her youth and childhood was taken from her very early. She would probably have been forced to grow up very young.

I think you really need to talk to her about it. You’re angry at shadows and based on current internet discourse and not on real people and you’re not being fair to your mum because you’re deciding how to feel for her, as if she somehow can’t make her own decisions.

As for your dad: one of the tough bits about growing up is that we have to learn to accept our parents as humans. The way you’ve presented what he did is uncomfortable. You haven’t spoken to him about it and you’re holding it up against a 2023 conversation so I don’t know what exactly happened between them. 11 years is a lot. I think you need to talk to your mum, really listen to her, then at some point talk to your dad. But not like presenting him with a load of internet discourse. Listen to him and see him in his own context and story and as a person.

I used to fight with my dad based on online discourse about feminism etc and it was incredibly freeing to realise that he doesn’t have to keep up with that, that he’s lived most of his life and lived it as a good and kind man and if he’s not perfect that’s fine. I love him so much and I’m so sad I had those fights with him because they weren’t fair and they were coming from my own anxieties and anger about the world. I don’t want you to do that because I think you’ll regret it. I know you probably have a burning sense of injustice but you need to think about whether that’s more important than your family being happy together.

When people say families are tough this is what they mean. But I do really urge you not to judge your parents too quickly. Your dad loves you very much, what good will it do to be angry about something you don’t really know anything about? You’re just going to hurt him and probably put your mum in the middle and hurt her too. But don’t bury this anxiety either! Talk to your mum. Just be really honest with her that you worry about white men and Asian women and their story sounded like maybe she’d got married too young and will she tell you more about it. Get to know her as a friend as well as a mother as you get older.

Sending you lots of love.

[voice-of-anarchy]

ARCH ENEMY's ALISSA WHITE-GLUZ On Being Vegan: Using Animal Products Is 'Completely Unnecessary'

In October 2022, Black Velvet magazine editor Shari Black Velvet celebrated her 20th vegan anniversary. As a way to commemorate this milestone, she decided to chat to another vegan — one that's been vegan even longer than her — Alissa White-Gluz. The inspiring vocalist of ARCH ENEMY chatted via Zoom (audio only),telling Black Velvet what initially made her make the jump to veganism, what her thoughts are on vigils, what makes a person cause pain and sorrow, and if she thinks there will ever be a time when all life is valued.

Asked what she thinks makes a person cause pain and sorrow to animals and whether it's down to a person's upbringing, Alissa said: "I think it is. If we wanna look at this just from a general perspective, children are not raised... If you look at a baby around a bunny or around a cat or a dog, if you just look at any baby when they see an animal, they're in awe — they're laughing; they're smiling; they think it's cool. They're, like, 'Wow, what's that?' They're curious. The same way little kids stare at you, because they're just taking it all in. This is the first time they're seeing another human adult or seeing everything clearly. Their eyesight's developing; they're able to now take in new colors and textures and see the beautiful wings of a bird or the nice soft fur of a cat, and they look at animals and they have love and admiration for animals. And then, somewhere along the way, we are taught that actually we don't love and admire animals; we just exploit and kill them. And that's good and that's normal. And I think that that kind of upbringing is what makes people... It becomes normal — it just becomes a daily routine, it becomes part of their habits, and they just don't understand why there's anything wrong with it. Their parents did it, they do it, [and] they don't see anything wrong with it. And I get that, and that's not their fault, but that doesn't mean that it's not commendable to recognize that it's wrong now and change now."

She continued: "I think, unfortunately, there are a lot of people in the world that do mean to cause pain and sorrow to other humans, to themselves, to animals, and they do that by contributing to the food industries that kill animals or by fishing or by hunting. And they have all sorts of green-washing excuses up their sleeves to make it seem like they're not doing it for any intentionally damaging way. But, at the end of the day, the same excuse that they use, like, 'Oh, we're the top of the food chain,' okay, yeah, we're the most advanced species when it comes to technology, and we now have the technology to not need to eat any animal products. We don't need to hunt. We don't need to fish. We don't need to do that. We're advanced. We're smart. So we're beyond this now. We've evolved past this, and I think it's just time that everybody accepts that and we just move away from using animals in anything. It's completely unnecessary."