#very much in their oc playlist but also i think half of this playlist is deco*27 songs pff

[cyellolemon]

Two breaths walking illust redraw with Olive and Ambrose :) (reloaded and og!)

[arolesbianism]

Mental health shit is kicking my ass but at least I have my silly guys

[dykeserket]

..

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter One

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: dark themes surrounding history of domestic violence, references to physical injury, heavy emotions (hope can also be heavy)

a/n | thank you to everyone who has expressed interest in this piece. I can't stress enough that while this work does deal with very dark, difficult subject matter, I always strive to speak to these things with as much care and respect as I can. I'd love to talk, if you'd like to share your thoughts on this one. thank you for reading.

.................................

Well the devil has been known to chase angels from their homes

And I know I got some angel left inside me

But my halo's hanging low

My halo's hanging low

And I'm nine hundred miles from my home

Angel Ballad as performed by Hurray for the Riffraff

................................

Quiet. It’s what he likes best about this job. The night comes on close and cool, even in the slow simmering slump of the summer. And nobody is ever out here at this time. No thrum and thrush of cars passing by on the highway. Just the jittery yips of coyotes, and maybe the growl of something bigger and meaner from time to time. Nights like this, he settles down in the drivers seat, letting the radio fizzle and thread through the quiet, whispered pasts and mournful words that he can hum along to. 

But tonight is different. 

He hears different before he sees it. That low murmur of an engine, and then the slow flood of headlights rounding the bend. Too fast, impossibly fast, there and gone. He fumbles, flicking on the siren and the lights before peeling onto the road, his car whimpering under the heavy demand of his foot on the gas pedal. 

His whole body is a closed fist curled around the wheel, waiting for this person to give up, surrender in the flash of their brake lights. But they hold on for a while, long enough for his jaw to start to ache with the way his teeth grit and grind. But eventually, the slow give in. 

Never gotten a taste for this, never liked this, the slow saunter up to the car, palm on the hood and the lean down, the spiel. He prefers the coyotes. 

But tonight is different.

Different stops his words in his throat. Wide eyes, unblinking and unmoving from his. A quick glance to hands still on the wheel, knuckles tensing over and over again, ready to bolt. The strap of her tank top has fallen down the slope of her pallid shoulder. He blinks, twice, hard, half-expecting an apparition to dissolve into gossamer breath before his eyes. But she just stares at him, lips parted in breath that catches somewhere in her sternum.

“Do you know how fast you were driving?” 

“I’m sorry, officer.”

“Probably a hundred and ten in a sixty-five. Where are you going this time of night anyways?” 

“Do I have to answer that?” Said meek, a little warble, though her boldness still surprises him, a clip of laughter getting stuck in his throat, disbelief bubbling up.

“License and registration, please.” Her brow pinches and falls, eyes darting out along the highway like she’s looking for an answer. Knee bouncing, a jolted wire of a woman. Drugs, he thinks, maybe. Though he’s seen drugs, and drugs don’t look like this exactly. Fear, pure and simple. 

“I can’t do that, officer.” 

“Why not?” It startles him, fingers instinctively jumping to his holster when she suddenly jerks her hand off the steering wheel. But it’s only to draw her curled fingers to her mouth, worrying at split and sore-looking skin between her teeth. 

“I just can’t.” 

“If you don’t, then I’ll have no choice but to take you in.” She doesn’t respond to that, just continues to stare at him. Part of him wants to let her go, catch and release, a quiet warning to slow down. Harmless enough, he thinks, shivering like a beaten dog under his stare. But he knows he can’t do that.

“Please step out of the car, ma’am.” Relief when she complies, her eyes staying turned down to her sneakers as she shuts the car door behind her. He keeps his eyes on hers as he clicks on the radio on his shoulder.

“I need to get a plate checked, H-W-G–” Before he can read out the rest of her license plate number, her whole body jolts, a stuttered step toward him, her hands stretched out, palms stark white with the splay.

“No! No, please don’t do that. Please.” For some reason, he listens, clicking off his radio as he squints at her. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” She’s washed out wan in the headlights of his car, her frown slanting in harsh shadows. No answer, he moves to speak into his radio again.

“It’s my husband’s– my husband’s car.” No ring on her finger, her eyes follow his in their quick sweep of her hand.

“It’s complicated.” He huffs, a tilt of his head toward his car. She takes two steps forward before stopping, considering him.

“You’re not going to cuff me?” “Ain’t got a reason to.” Not yet, at least. Still unsure just what this is, still trying to figure it out. He opens the door to the back of the car for her, not missing the wary flit of her eyes before she ducks into the backseat. Reluctant but willing to settle her anxious plumage in this cage. 

They leave her car, or her husband’s car, on the shoulder of the highway, the station not too far away. He finds himself stealing glances at her, her expression unreadable in the bare glow of the few lone streetlights they pass. 

And then, somehow, he finds himself pulling into the parking lot of somewhere other than the station, catching her confused look in the rear view mirror. There’s nobody else at the diner this time of night, the only building for another few miles before the small town comes into focus. A blinking, chipped beacon in the night.

“Are you hungry?” No answer, though he thinks that she presses herself back into the seat, a small shrinking. He sighs, getting out of the car and opening her door, somewhere between leaning down and hovering over her in what he hopes is a less intimidating posture.

“Just wanna talk, get the whole story from you. I can’t help you if I don’t know what all this is about.”

“Help me?” Said like it’s foreign to her, a concept she can’t even imagine. 

“You like pancakes?” She does, he discovers, with blueberries and a thick swirl of syrup. She eats like she’s getting away with something, hurried, her eyes sweeping around the diner every so often. Hunger, a deep kind, like she hasn’t had a full meal in a while. He tries not to watch her too closely, taking cursory bites of his own meal.  But his eyes get caught on the fragile flex and flick of muscle in her forearms. Elbows on the table, the fluorescent lighting shocks into focus a dark bloom of bruises running up both her arms. Half moons of pain, waning gibbous and gruesome. Like fingerprints. He pushes his plate away from himself, swallowing hard.

“You can have the rest of mine too, if you want. Or we can get you something else?” Her eyes go wide again, freezing mid-chew before she swallows with a shaky gulp, setting fork and knife down, hands tangling in a close fist in her lap, ashamed. He wishes he hadn’t said anything.

“Where are you from?” 

“Nebraska.” He’s a little surprised when she so quickly responds, though he nods, trying to school any expression from his face.

“And that’s where you’re coming from?” She nods, one palm absent-mindedly coming to curl behind her neck, her elbow resting in her hand that’s crossed over her stomach, a small defense, or at least the posture of it.

“You said that’s your husband’s car. Does he know you have his car?” 

“I imagine he has an idea by now.” 

“Does he know where you are?”

“I hope not.” She says it with a weak laugh, though her lashes stay dropped to her cheeks, not looking at him as she says it. He’s starting to feel a sick curl in his stomach, getting tangled up in something that he shouldn’t be, and he hasn’t the slightest idea why.

What he should do. What he should do is take her to the station and let someone else handle this. Someone who knows how to handle this. What he should do is let work be work, and what he should do is not get involved any further than the meal he bought for her.

“My name’s Joel.” He holds his hand out across the table, though she doesn’t take it, just works her fingers a little harder into the nape of her neck.

“I’m Dolores.” How fitting, he thinks. Our lady of sorrow, and she certainly looks every bit of it.

“May I ask what you were planning to do with a stolen car, going a hundred and ten in a sixty-five, Dolores?” She sniffs back the swim in her eyes, chin tucking up, a pantomime of conviction.

“I was getting away.”

What he should do, he doesn’t. What he does do, he shouldn’t. 

“You understand that if you keep driving that car, eventually you’re gonna get tracked down one way or another?” 

“I was gonna get rid of it once I got into Utah.”

“You got any money?”

“No.” 

“You got family in Utah?”

“No.” He almost doesn’t want to ask anymore questions, seeing the way she starts to wilt with each no, her shoulders curling in like a despondent cage. 

“So, what exactly was the plan?” He tries to ask it quiet, trying to temper his doubt, though she still winces.

“I already told you.”

“Getting away?” 

“Yes.”

“You’ve already done that. What, eight hours worth or thereabout?” She nods.

“I think you need a better plan, Dolores.” Her lips collapse in an instant frown, and he regrets the words, digging the knuckles of his fist into his thigh to keep anything else from coming out of his mouth. 

“I don’t know any more.” Like a child, like a hopeless child. Before he can respond, the waitress comes back around, filling up their coffee cups, a friendly, familiar word to him and an uncertain look to Dolores who keeps her eyes down on an invisible spot on the table. Just enough time for him to think over what he shouldn’t do. 

“Do you want my help?” 

…

When Sarah went off to college, and when Austin got to be too much, and when the work got to be too much as well, he decided he needed a change. Sold his half of the business to Tommy and used that money to buy a palmful of land. Small town, strange town, right in the curve of a mountain, just a few hours outside of Boulder. Sarah calls, and comes home for the holidays. Tommy not so much, a sour spat that has lingered between them ever since Joel left. Both of them too prideful to be the first to break, little brother that wanted more and wanted it fast, and big brother that was ready for everything to slow down and get silent.

He has enough money saved for his job at the station to be something that keeps him busy a few nights a week more than anything else. And in the meantime.

“Do you have animals?” She sits in the passenger seat now, pointing out to the dark outline of the barn and coop as they pass it.

“Got sheep, and chickens. But between you and me, I don’t care much for the chickens.” An attempt at lightness, he bites down on his own smile when he catches the small curve of her mouth in his periphery. 

Small house, sleeping house in a thick flare of brush and trees. He lets her do it on her terms, leaves the front door wide open and tries not to watch as she steps through the threshold, busying himself with linens and towels for her. Part of him is surprised that she agreed to come with him at all. But the other part of him knows why she did. It was this, or going back, and she wasn’t about to do that. 

“There’s a guest room down the hall. My daughter stays there when she visits so it shouldn’t be too bad.” She just nods, hands held loosely in front of her, quick sweeps of her eyes when he turns on a lamp, warm shadows and light. It takes her a beat to follow him down the hall, leaving a wide swath of space between them even when she steps into the room, watching him set the sheets down on the bed and flick on the light, her back pressed against the wall. 

“Bathroom is the first door on the left. And I’m upstairs if you need anything.” She still doesn’t move, only offering him another nod.

“We can go into town tomorrow. Get you some clean clothes and see about some work for you.” 

“Okay.” He doesn’t miss it, the way she takes two shuffled steps back when he moves closer, even though it’s only so he can get to the doorway. 

“Try to get some sleep.” He doesn’t think he’ll get a response from her, already making his way out of the room, but.

“Thank you, Joel.” He stops in his tracks, turning over his shoulder to look at her, though he doesn’t say anything, just a puff of breath that’s loud enough to sound like an answer before he shuts the door to her room behind him.

He shouldn’t. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t. Repeats to himself what a bad idea this is with each step up the stairs to his room. He shouldn’t, but he did.

What he offered her was time. And place. Time and place for her to find a better plan for herself. Make some money, stop the shake in her limbs, unbothered and unnoticed in a quiet town like this.

The husband’s car is a problem he hasn’t worked out yet, though he has some ideas. Pop off the plates and squirrel them away, let the car get found by some other patrolman, let it be a mystery. Or just leave the car as is, abandoned on the side of the highway, and let the husband wonder where his wife ran off to in the middle of nowhere. Not a fitting punishment, he thinks, but something nonetheless. 

For now though, there’s a stranger sleeping downstairs. A stranger that he has decided to help. He has been so careful at alone. At keeping people and place at arm’s length. And tonight, he has ruined that in one maybe, probably, stupid choice. But he’s never been one to change his mind, stubborn to a fault. So he lets one more shouldn’t fizzle out in his thoughts, and then resolves himself to this reality. A stranger sleeping downstairs who he is going to help. And not really a stranger now. Her name is Dolores. An old-fashioned name, he thinks. A weeping name, a wailing name. A name that demands it be said on a sigh. He wonders if she would like a new name, if she will need a new name. A problem for later, already getting ahead of himself. 

…

She’s sitting on the couch in the living room when he comes downstairs, her legs tucked up under her, head propped in the cup of her palm, looking out the window. Part of him half-expected her to be gone. A finely threaded figment slipped through his fingers. But she’s there, and she doesn’t notice him at first. 

“Morning.” It startles her, that close curl in on herself as she finally looks at him, and he again finds himself wishing he hadn’t said anything, had just let her be in that quiet moment.

“Hi.” 

“Get some sleep?”

“Yeah.” Said from behind her palm, he’s pretty sure it isn’t honest. Dark, drooping eyes and a heavy pull in her frame, truth without telling. 

He’s not sure if he should ask, so he doesn’t. He hides a smile when she follows him anyways, out onto the front porch and toward the coop. 

“Do they have names?” Her eyes brighten when the first of the ladies strut out of the coop, dipping and bobbing their heads with self-righteous clucks and chirps. 

“No, I can barely tell who’s who.” Her brow furrows, mouth screwing to the side as she watches the chickens, already bowing beaks to the dirt to pluck fresh crawling things for their breakfast. 

“Still, they should have names.” It seems to be an absent-minded thought that happens to come out in words, her eyes still focused on the fuss and flutter of the birds as she says it.

“Well if you come up with any, let me know.” He says it halfway over his shoulder as he ducks into the coop, swallowing down how strange this is. But we are so good at reconfiguring around strange, aren’t we? Fitting strange into our lives as if it was always meant to be there. So, he collects the eggs from the coop, listening to the faint sound of what he thinks is her quietly murmuring to the chickens, though she’s quiet again when he joins her. 

Two for her and two for him, he gets no answer when he asks her how she likes her eggs, a ghost lingering in the doorway to the kitchen, like she’s surprised when he acknowledges her presence. Fried, fizzled fat around the edges, he hopes it will do, setting two plates down at the table.

“Coffee?”

“Please.” His back turned as he pours two cups, his ears prick to the sound of the chair scraping out, and then a long sigh, a settling. She waits for him to sit down before she lets her hands stray from her lap. A careful bite of her eggs, yolk splitting and spilling gold against the edge of her fork. 

“Thank you.” 

“Not a problem.” Quiet, he keeps his eyes on his plate and his mug, only quick flickers up to see that she’s doing much the same. 

“There’s a drugstore in town, and a secondhand shop. We can head in after breakfast to get you, uh, situated.” Situated, because he’s certain she’s been wearing that same tank top and jean shorts for a few days now, rumpled around the edges. 

“Okay, I’ll pay you back for it, all of it. Soon as I get some money saved. Just– just hold onto the receipts?” Question more than command, he just nods. 

It used to be a mining town, way, way back. Then it went dormant for a while, picked back up and polished over by the commune movement in the seventies, the vestiges of flower power and free love still evident in some of the older residents. Long hair and bluejeans and leather sandals and skin. But mostly, it’s quiet folk. Ranchers and farmers, the occasional dirtbag blowing through, looking to climb something he has no business climbing, wary looks passed at the prospect of a large backpack trundling down the main, and only, drag of town. Newcomers are spectacle, something Joel learned when he moved here four years ago. But the novelty is fast to wear off, everything and everyone blending together in the thin mountain air. Jobs to do and seasons to plan for, after all.

Dolores is new though, and especially unexpected walking through town with him. Eyes lingering hot on the back of his neck, he can only imagine how she’s starting to feel, a small mercy that they’re already stepping inside the secondhand shop. It smells like cedar and damp. He only comes in here when he absolutely needs a new something after something else finally wore itself out, but he knows the owner well enough.

“Patty?” 

“In the back, give me a minute!” She doesn’t take a minute, already blustering out from the back of the shop, a crooked grin when she sees him.

“Joel Miller, been a while since you’ve been in here. Did those jeans of yours finally–” Patty stops mid-sentence, mid-stride, her eyes stuttered stuck on Dolores, who looks about ready to dissolve, hands clasped across her waist like she might cave in on herself. 

“Patty, this is a friend of mine. She’s gonna be staying with me a while and needs some clothes.” Patty looks perplexed, clearly waiting for him to explain the rest, though she doesn’t press when he stays silent, her attention settling back on Dolores.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you then. I’m Patty, but you already knew that.” Surprise when Patty holds her hand out for a shake and Dolores easily reciprocates, though he supposes the terms they’re meeting on are a little less jarring than what happened last night. 

“I’m Dolores, nice to meet you.”

“Huh, you don’t hear that name too often these days.” Patty has always been something of a force, and now is no different, Joel barely getting in a low murmur that he’ll meet Dolores outside of the store when she’s finished. Patty nods absent-mindedly when he tells her to put the cost on his tab, too busy coaxing Dolores further into the store, something about jeans and sweaters for the soon to come snap of fall the last thing he hears as he steps outside. 

…

“Is Sarah visiting soon?” Joel pauses in placing the items on the checkout counter, at first confused by Rod’s question. But then he realizes that yes, this haul looks much like what he picks up when his daughter comes to visit. Toothbrush and toothpaste, because she always manages to forget them, and feminine products that he’s been buying long enough for her that he doesn’t feel the least bit bashful about putting them in his basket. His best guess for what Dolores might need. This time, not for Sarah.

“Uh, no, no. Just have a friend staying with me for a while.” He knows that everyone in town is going to run with the word friend. In his mid-forties, he’s one of the youngest members of the community, and there’s been plenty of times when one of his well-meaning neighbors has tried to set him up with their daughter who’s just visiting, but it could be more than just visiting, you know. Yeah, right. He prefers the coyotes. 

Rod finishes ringing him up, a nod and another comment about the oncoming fall that Joel agrees with, friendly enough, always speaking in terms of seasons out here. For now though, the mid-day sun is still unforgiving, burning the tips of his ears as he sits down on the bench outside the secondhand shop. A few people pass, all greeting him by name, and he does the same. It’s easy in a town like this, not too many to remember anyways. 

Eventually, Dolores comes out with a thick stack of folded clothes in her arms, a pair of worn-looking work boots settled on top. 

“All set?” 

“Yeah, thank you.” 

“I think I did okay at the drugstore, just let me know if you need anything else.” He rests the brown paper bag on his hip, stepping into stride beside her as they walk back to his car, reminding him of that mistake he needs to set right.

“Gotta get this car back to the station and pick up my truck. We’ll stop there on the way back.” She stiffens and stops instantly, her shoulders hiking up high and hackled as she frowns at him, making no move to get into the car now.

“That’s not– not like that. You can wait in the truck, I just have to go in for a minute, okay?” Cagey, a broken bird getting ready to attempt lift-off. He feels himself holding his breath for her response. It doesn’t come in words, another nod as she ducks into the passenger seat, her bundle of clothes settling in her lap, palms smoothing over fabric again and again and again. 

The thought occurs to him again as they drive toward the station. What the fuck is he doing? This jagged woman, all skittish and sharp around her worn-away edges. Though not much time to consider it as they pull into the lot, a new problem presenting itself.

“You go wait in the truck, alright? Don’t worry about this.” She scoffs, a broken piece of a laugh in the back of her throat as her eyes stay trained on the tow in the station’s lot, her husband’s car still hooked to its cable. He doesn’t give her time to question it, just nestles his truck’s keys on top of her pile of clothes and reaches across her to open her door, mindful to keep plenty of space between his arm and her. Wordlessly, she acquiesces, shuffling over to the truck Joel had jerked his head toward. 

“Morning, Miller.”

“Morning, what’s going on out there?” John sighs behind a swig of coffee, leaning against the front desk in the office of the station. Big man, amicable man, lived in this town his whole life, wife and two kids still in elementary school that they have to ride the bus a half hour to get to. He was who offered Joel this job about a year after he moved to town, something about not minding an extra pair of hands and eyes on the team.

“Someone reported an abandoned car on the side of the interstate early this morning. Just ran the plates, turns out it was called in stolen in Lincoln, Nebraska two days ago.” A longer than eight hour drive, he thinks, though he keeps his face unmoving, just a hum of acknowledgement to what John tells him. 

“Well that’s something else.”

“That isn’t all. Apparently, the guy is pretty sure it was his wife who stole it, because she went missing the same day. If you ask me, a woman’s gotta have a real good reason to just pick up and run away like that.” That sick feeling starts to slurry in his stomach again, though he tamps it down with a hard clear of his throat. 

“It’s quite the story, John. But where’s the wife then?”

“That’s the thing. The car was abandoned, not a sign of anyone around. All we found inside was a ratty-looking book in the passenger’s seat.” 

“Huh.” He glances back out into the lot over his shoulder, rubbing at the back of his neck like he’s still thinking through what John just told him. What he’s really doing is checking on Dolores, still in the passenger’s seat of his truck, worrying at her thumbnail between her teeth. 

“Anyways, if you see a lost-looking woman wandering around, bring her in. Though I reckon she’s long gone by now, God bless her.” Joel nods, talking numbly through all the requisite things he must, shifts and schedules, relief in his ringing ears when he steps back outside into the hard bake of the sun. He takes one more look at the tow from over the hood of his car, a shake of his head, a sigh, a conclusion, and then the slam of his car door.

…

“Can I help?” He nearly drops the pail of water he was carrying she startles him so bad. All cleaned up, in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, already fitting into the landscape, squinting at him through the late-afternoon glare. 

“If you want, you can grab that other pail and come help me top up their water.” A little unsteady with the slosh of it, she still manages just fine, following him out into the pasture, the flock already nosing closer to their water troughs. 

“Are they all girls?” Something like wonder laces through her question, taking a tentative step closer to one of the sheep, too domestic for Joel’s taste, though Dolores just laughs when the animal noses at her open palm.

“There’s two rams, they’re always a little late to the party, but you can just see them over that hill. The one on the left is Casper, and the one on the right is Lloyd.” 

“So you can tell your sheep apart, but not your chickens?” That’s new, a crackle to her words that makes him laugh as he finishes filling the water trough. But she’s still focused on the lady who is now demanding her full attention, snuffling at the hem of her shirt as she scratches between her ears. 

“Does this girl have a name?” 

“That’s Avril. My, uh, my daughter named her when I first got her.” She smiles, a little laugh when the sheep starts to jaw at the fabric of her shirt.

“Like that pop singer?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. She was a big fan as a teen.”

“My little sister was too.” Her face falls the instant the words leave her mouth, the bitter flavor of the past turning her quiet all over again. Another piece that he tucks away somewhere in his mind, still quick to change the subject, to keep her in the present.

“Forgot to mention, I talked with Sal in town– he owns that diner. Said he was looking for a new waitress to work day shifts. I know it ain’t much but–”

“No, that’s– anything is good, perfect.” The sheep is starting to pull at the bottom of her shirt, Dolores too polite to do anything more than pat her lightly on the head, a small sound of protest when the fabric starts to get rucked up her stomach by the animal’s continued mouthing. 

“You know better than that, c’mon now, get.” He gives the sheep a gentle shove, earning himself a dejected bleat, though she finally gives up Dolores’ shirt, joining the rest of the flock in their huddle around the trough. For her part, Dolores doesn’t take two steps back to his two steps closer. For his part, Joel tries not to pay too much attention to this fact.

“So, should I go talk to Sal tomorrow?” He has to resist the urge to reach out and smooth the crumpled hem of her shirt, settling for stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. 

“Yeah, I’ll take you over there tomorrow morning, if that’s alright with you?” 

“Mmhmm, uh, yeah, thank you.” She seems to be holding words back beneath the pinch of her brow and the tight frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. Joel waits, watching her rub her palms down the front of her jeans, like a little quick heat will coax more voice out. Finally, she lets out a breath that clips itself like a laugh, shaking her head.

“Sorry, I guess I’m waiting.”

“Waiting?” 

“Yeah, you know, like, for the catch?” She says it squinting, her arms crossed over her chest, bottom lip pulled between her teeth when she finishes.

“I– that’s not– there’s no catch. You seem like you need some help, and, well, I can.” Help, still a word she’s not familiar with, something falling in her face when he says it. 

This woman who is a stranger to help. This woman who is still a stranger to him, if he’s being honest. What he knows, she has a little sister. What he knows, the bruises painted dark and dull along her arms make him sick with the want to do something for her. What he knows, the small slip of delight that slackens her frown as she watches the sheep nudge and nuzzle against each other makes him giddy with the want to do something for her. 

Stranger or not, help, because he can. Care, because he can.

...........................

taglist (lmk if you want added or dropped) : @casssiopeia @eleganthottubfun @anoverwhelmingdin @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @suzmagine @syakhairi @spookyxsam @northernbluess @hier--soir @darkroastjoel @wannab-urs @tieronecrush @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @softlyspector

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Didn't We Almost Have It All?

Jayce Talis x OC

Synopsis:Celeste Carson didn't intend on doing anything at the Academy besides pursuing her career in psychology. But one thing leads to another, and soon Celeste is working with Jayce and Viktor on Hextech.

Content Warnings: angst (hurt/no comfort), unrequited love(???), implied childhood friends, slow burn, slightly canon divergent... but pretty much consitant, oc x canon, very little fluff, no happy ending for anybody, did I mention it's gonna be angsty?, possible smut.

A/N: Hi! This is my first non x reader story on Tumblr. I might cross-post it onto Ao3, too [depends on how I feel about Ao3's outline... cuz I've never written on Ao3]. On with the writing :)

Playlist that goes along with story :)

Trial Periods

Timeline Placement: Between S1 EP3 and EP4

"And that concludes today's class!" The psych professor says, closing the book in front of them. Students pile out of the room as the professor talks about their newest homework assignment, about the due dates.

Celeste smiles softly at her professor, bidding them goodbye as she makes her way to her dorm. She pushes her bangs out of her face with a little puff of air as she walks back to her dorm. That's when she feels the hands of someone on her shoulders from behind. Celeste practically jumps out of her skin, whirling around to a laughing Jayce.

"Not funny, asshole!" Celeste chuckles, smacking Jayce's arm slightly. Compared to Jayce, Celeste felt like a midget. She was tall, standing at 5'7. Her hair was a dark chocolate brown, and almost always tied up into a bun. Her swoopy side bangs always stayed out of the bun. Since no matter how hard the poor girl tried, they'd always fall out anyhow.

She wore a similar corset vest to everyone else, but hers was gray. Her white button up had sleeves rolled up half-way up her arm ("My sleeves get in the way." Celeste had explained to Jayce with a chuckles during their first week there. "It pisses me off!") Her pants were beige, and she wore calf-high brown boots with what appeared to be mock-gold buckles.

"Sorry, sorry." Jayce chuckles, smiling like a dork. Or... at least Celeste thinks he looks like a dork... but a lovable dork. Kinda like a bug you just wanna keep in a little jar. "Couldn't resist. Anyhow... do you have time to maybe swing by the Hextech lab?" Jayce asks eagerly, like a puppy eager to show off a trick it had learned. Celeste laughs at Jayce's eagerness.

"Ummm... I probably should." She says, shifting her weight from one side of her hip to the other. "Do you have a spesifc time in mind?" She asks. Jayce shakes his head. "Oh alright, then. I can come around right now then."

Jayce doesn't even give her time to react, he just grabs her wrist and about drags her towards the lab. Celeste, laughing with her best friend as Jayce practically drags her behind him.

When Jayce and Celeste approach the lab, Jayce doesn't let go of her wrist as she laughs softly. "Did you really have to DRAG me here?" She asks between giggles. Jayce laughs with her. God he loved her laugh.

He could listen to it for hours. Not in a creepy way or anything like that, but the sound brought him emence amounts of comfort, joy. It sounded like home. It's hard to imagine his life without hearing that laugh.

"To say I DRAGGED you is a bit of an overstatement." He laughs, opening the lab door. The two walk in together. Celeste and Viktor make a small gesture in greeting as Jayce shows Celeste around the lab. Plans above plans for the future of Hextech and how they'd progress it, EVOLVE it to it's true glory. Celeste's eyes, however, keep shifting to a white board filled to the brim with linked equations. Mathematics on top of mathematics. It was enough to make the girl's head swim.

"Much different than psychology, huh?" Jayce laughs. Celeste also laughs along with him.

"You could say THAT again." She laughs, her gaze still lingering on the board. Jayce looks towards her, trying to figure out what keeps capturing her attention. Jayce smiles big, laughing softly.

"The board." He says, mostly to himself. "That's just an equation that's been stumping Viktor and I for a few days now."

"What's got you two stuck?" Celeste asks, walking towards the board, hands on her hips.

Jayce walks behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder. Touch between the two wasn't made a big deal of, it was in fact quite the opposite. Touch came natural to them... or for Jayce, at least. Celeste normally hated physical contact... but always accepted it from Jayce. No matter what.

"We keep getting a different awnser every time we do it." Viktor says, coming over to the two. "And when we apply the number we get to the research... it doesn't add up."

"We don't know if we're just tired, or maybe we need a fresh pair of-"

"I see the problem." Celeste says simply. Jayce stops dead in his tracks and looks down at Celeste.

"Oh??" Jayce asks. Viktor doesn't say anything, and instead hands Celeste a white board marker. She uncapped it and got up on her tiptoes to erase a few numbers, correcting the equation. Jayce's eyes watch in marvel and awe as she fixes a few things. Nothing too extreme, mostly changing a few number that were off by only 2 or 3 digits. When she solved it, she steps aside so the two could see the equation.

"Try that maybe?" She says. Jayce practically bolted to the desk Viktor was at prior, applying the knowledge given to the project.

"Holy shit, we might actually have success!" Jayce laughs. "Thanks, Celeste!"

Celeste chuckles. "No problem." She smiles. As Viktor looks over her work again, mumbling about "why he hadn't seen that before", Jayce looks at Celeste.

"Join us." He says. This makes both Celeste AND Viktor turn their heads.

"What?" The two said in unison. Celeste shocked at the offer, Viktor equally shocked at the offer. He wasn't opposed to Celeste joining the two, in fact Viktor'd quite enjoy it. The offer was simply sporadic enough to catch Viktor off guard.

"You heard me." Jayce says. "Join us in Hextech. Even if part-time."

"Jayce... I- I don't know." Celeste says nervously. "I don't think I'm qualified for this job-"

"Oh shut it." Jayce laughs softly. "You're EASILY one of the brightest minds I've ever met. We could use you on Team Hextech. So... just... think about it?" He asks. Celeste chuckles softly.

"I'll think about it." She says.

°~☆~°

Knock! Knock! Knock! Jayce practically falls out of bed at the sudden knocks. He groggily looks at a clock on his nightstand. 4:09am. Ohhhhh Piltover better be on fucking fire. Jayce makes his way to the door, not bothering to throw a shirt on. He opens it and he's greeted by none other than Celeste.

"This better be good." He groggily mumbles. He's partially joking. He can't stay mad at her... not when she had not only the cutest freckled face... but also the prettiest brown eyes he'd ever seen.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you but I was thinking... about your offer this afternoon." Celeste says, her words a little faster than probably nessicary. "And I thought about it... like REALLY thought about it. And I think... I think I want to trial a few days before I make a decision. Is that OK?"

Jayce blinks slowly at Celeste. "Huh?" He croaks out. Celeste laughs before dumbing it down for his barely awake brain.

"Can I have a trial period?" She asks. Jayce nods, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"Uh... yeah I don't see why not." He says sleepily. "Now can I PLEASE go back to sleep???" Celeste bids Jayce goodnight, and goes back to her own dorm. She falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.

°~☆~°

Over the next few days, Celeste soaks in all she can while she "trials" working with Hextech. It takes a little under a day to catch her up with everything (Jayce always kept her posted on things, so she already knew at LEAST 50% of what she needed to know about Hextech), then it took 2 days for her to make a decision.

"I think..." She says, pushing the goggles she had on her head onto her face. "I think team Hextech gained a new member."

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!!!

A/N: if you read this far, lemme know what you think! Either in the comments or in the asks. I'm fine with both! I'll release some Celeste art too if people are interested!

- Squeed~☆

[slightly-warmer-hibiscus-tea]

CW: OC talk + Rambling / Blood / Gore / Censored Nudity (character sheet) / Mentions of Drugging

(idk why these warnings are so intense, but I swear it's all just silly OC talk T^T)

I’m kinda sorta working on more (comprehensible) TS OC stuff in between studying right now… I wanna hurry and talk about them but without info dumping (if given the opportunity I will without hesitation 😔…) because in terms of the best stories I have conjured up for OCs in general Naudedel and Noble are surprisingly good and I’m very excited to share how deranged they are together…

Right now it’s just about making Naudy readable and working on extra fun stuff… like monsters!

I’m trying to work out his “monster” form…. The concept is there, but the execution is just not ticking the right boxes for me right now… also, the line art at the end is old and probably will go unused, but thought it was something to add here because like hehe look at my deranged son :)

When it comes to the writing I'm going to split it into two chapters. The first half will be a summary+ of his upbringing, and the second on how he fucked up his arm and why. Just enough info to get a read on what his deal is pretty much. I just need to edit the first chapter and rewrite some parts then it's ready to annoy the world!

I'm trying to think of a good design for his original mother... I'm thinking dark hair and milf (¬‿¬)･ﾟ✧ ... honestly I need to start drawing out the designs for all the other TS OCs I've accumulated over the year (?) here's a fun list-

Hickery (bloodhound OC... dilf oc...I've already been made fun of for his name, but it stuck to me so I'm keeping it!)

Maya (another bloodhound OC)

Cove (Hound's ex-husband)

Cetcher's gf + informant, who still needs a good name...

and that one guy! (doesn't have a name yet... but is important in Hound's part of the story... she bashed some of his guys in the back of head with a hammer... it was a whole thing... Leander got involved... gang war stuff, don't worry about it...)

There are technically more OCs, like that Hightown lady Noble befriended during their first few weeks in town. However, I'm not sure if I'm including her in the final plot meeting. But yeah, anyway I'm rambling so on to Noble news!

For Noble, everything is plotted out in advance surprisingly…character playlist and all... just need to find the words to explain their story other than “parasite with a weird God complex feels guilty” I do have some old memes and art of them though!

Noble curse stuff...

Childhood cult stuff...

Current reality...

Poor person masquerade dress censored for tumblr...

Noble folks!

I actually wrote out a whole little thing for the black dress in a what-if scenario of...

"Oh! ,,,What if there is a masquerade in Hightown and Noble sneaks in to get some information on a certain individual who might know a thing or two about curses, but turns out the whole event if devious and their all eating babies or some fucked up shit,,,, and what if while sneaking around they see Leander and are like 'what's he doing here?' and they lock eyes but he ignores them as he ducks into a closed off area with some important looking people,,, once he comes out he walks past them and they lock eyes again as he leaves,,, Noble chases after him and once they catch up they get to see his cold and detached side right before he hides them from the other guest,,, after they talk for a bit, or more like Leander talking over them and their worries as he slowly wipes their memories while they protest that it's not fair only to wake up the next day back in their room,,, thankfully their curse is good for more then just silly bouts of insanity so they have a hunch on what happened, everyone around them who knew where they went the night before were obviously worried and the general consensus is that they might have been drugged and should go check in with Kuras just in case (wow this is getting long...) but on their way to the clinic they run into Leander and of course discusses their current problem with him ,,, words are exchanged,,, a kabedon may occur,,, as he whispers in their ear,,, all fun till he erases their memories again, or at least tires before receiving a little gift that makes him look at this whole curse thing from a different angle." DEEP BREATH! ...Anyways... yeah.

But it was taking so long to write out that I ended up losing motivation so yeah... like everything else we will pray the motivation comes back so I can finish that... plus who knows, I might make an x reader version of it if I can. (don't hold your breath... I'm extremely slow)

Anyway, I'm gonna to shut up now because I've yapped enough. I'mma make some hibiscus tea (ironic) and head to bed... Night night, if you made it this far, thank you for listening to my craziness <3

[sarahsmi13s]

Two Ladders

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x sarah grant (fem!oc)

characters: sarah grant, jake seresin

warnings: language, pregnancy, pregnancy hormones, crying, loss of appetite, hiding feelings from significant others, light mentions of jake's PTSD, mentions of throwing up, all from jake's p.o.v, family issues, if i missed any let me know

word count: ~2.2k

a/n: this story is inspired by ‘His Little Girl’ (bradley bradshaw x reader) by the lovely @roosterscockpit​​  ( @milesdickpic​ ) also, yes, the oc is based on me lol (well a fantasy version lol) this is heavily inspired by my own feelings towards my actual brother and sister not getting along very well and the worries sarah has here are worries i've actually had when it concerns this topic

this is a backstory piece! you can find the other parts to j and s -> here

summary: jake notices a change in his fiance's behavior. at first he thinks it's caused by the pregnancy and sarah's hormones being out of wack. but when he comes home to find her crying on their bed does he finally voice his concerns and lets her vent to him.

When Jake first noticed something was wrong with Sarah, he thought it was just her pregnancy hormones making her a little emotional. He’d catch her crying or appearing a little out of focus, but she was an emotionally sensitive person, so he attributed it all to that and her hormones. 

Of course, he still held her when he found her crying, he’s her comforter, and he took that job very seriously. He knew her tears could be nothing, a result of simply reading something or seeing a video. Maybe she just needed his shoulder to cry on, and he was happy to provide it. If she wanted to talk about it, he was there to listen, and if she just wanted to curl in his lap, that was fine too.

If it was something really really bothering her, he hoped she knew she could come to him about it. 

He noticed that her appetite seemed to be shot too. She usually jumped at the chance to have him make one of his mother’s enchilada recipes, but she just shook her head and said a burger would be enough and then she only ate half.

But again, Jake blamed that on the pregnancy too. Sarah had morning sickness and was sick throughout the day, especially if something disagreed with her. So he thought that she was just trying not to irritate her stomach and never commented on it.

But he made note of it all. 

Jake was making sure not a thing went unnoticed. Because nothing can turn out to be something…

Jake sighed as he got in his truck, inhaling the perfume he sprayed on the back of his hand. Storms were rolling in, and he could feel the anxiety peaking in his chest, but the familiar all encompassing smell of his fiancèe helped keep him calm as he prepared himself to go home.

Before he started out of the parking lot, he pulled his phone out and sent Sarah a text. She was working right now, but she would text him back since it was her free hour, so she wasn’t doing much other than planning or putting grades in. 

After sending the text, he pulled up his playlist and started it before putting his phone face down and leaving the parking lot to go straight home.

When Jake parked in their driveway, he noticed Sarah’s vehicle also in the driveway. 

Tilting his head, Jake checked his phone. Had she called him earlier in the day to let him know that she was going to be home and he just didn’t realize? No.... and she hadn’t responded to his text from earlier either. 

Jake took a deep breath and got out of his truck, grabbed his things and went inside.

He was trying to rationalize it in his head, telling himself that she was okay and that the babies were okay. He needed to tell himself that, or he would spiral with the storm brewing above him.

Maybe the morning sickness was too much, and she didn’t want to stay at the school and “power through it” like she normally tried to. She came home to rest and was actually asleep when he sent that message, and she’s still asleep.

But she was okay, everything was okay.

Jake took a deep breath and went to the kitchen to get two bottles of water before going upstairs to the bedroom.

When he opened the door, he found Sarah on her side of the bed with her back to the door and curled up with a half-drunk bottle of water on her nightstand. At first, it appeared to be like she was just sleeping, so Jake decided to quietly just change into his sweatpants and get in bed next to her and try to sleep as well.

He wasn’t about to wake her up just because he wanted to be held. Sarah needed her rest, and just being next to her would help ease the anxiety the storm was riling up in him.

But as he slipped his shirt off, tossing it on the pile of khakis that he made a note of to fold later, he thought he heard a sniffle come from the bed.

He furrowed his brow but just slipped the black sweats on before turning to join her on the bed.

As he stepped towards the bed, he watched her subtly try to wipe her face as she sniffled. But when she cut off her own sob with her hand and buried her face in her pillow, his heart dropped.

He immediately rounded the bed to her side and knelt down, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sarah kept her head down, buried in the pillow, muffling her cries as Jake watched her chest jerk with sobs. He frowned and reached up to gently push her hair out of her face, “Sugar… please, talk to me, what’s going on?” 

Sarah unburied half of her face, and Jake’s thumb is quick to wipe the tears slipping down her cheek, “What are you doing home?” He frowned a little at her attempt to change the subject, but he sighed softly and answered her. “Storm grounded us, got to come home early.”

Her head quickly turned to him, her red-rimmed eyes wide.

“Oh my goodness, Jake. I’m so sorry, I forgot about that,” she said, sitting up and wiping her eyes. “Are-are you okay?” 

Jake felt his heart break just a little that she was worried more about him than she was about the fact he just caught her crying.

“I’m fine, Sugar. Better now that I’m home.” He reached up and cupped her cheek, “But you’re not fine, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, Darlin, just-” 

In the middle of her sentence, Sarah’s phone lit up with a notification, and her breath hitched.

Jake eyed her and then looked at her phone seeing that it was an email from one of her players about the practice schedule for the day. Another email dinged right after with her assistant coach's reply.

He placed it face down and looked up at her. “Did something happen at school? Is something going on between teachers that is making you so upset?”

Sarah’s mouth dropped a little, “Wh-what?” 

“Sarah… you have been crying nearly everyday. And-and your appetite is completely shot,” he said gently as moved to sit on the bed. “That’s just pregnancy hormones and not wanting to upset my stomach too much…”

Jake nodded before taking her hands in his, his thumb immediately playing with the ring on her finger, “That’s what I thought it was at first. But the fact a notification from your phone made you tense up is telling me that something else is going on. Please, tell me what it is.”

Sarah sniffled, taking in a shaky breath as she tried to collect her thoughts.

“It’s not school related… It’s um… it’s Shawn and Selena,” she said quietly as her voice began to clog with emotion. “S-something happened, and now they’re not talking. And I just… I don’t fucking know Jake…” 

Jake immediately wrapped her in a hug, not caring that she was sobbing directly into his ear.

“Shhh shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” 

He held her until she calmed down, rocking her gently as her tears dripped down his back.

She pulled back first to wipe her eyes, and Jake took the chance to move to the middle of the bed and pull her into his side.

“Talk to me, let it out, honey,” he urged gently.

Sarah took a deep breath before spilling it all to him. Everything weighing on her heart about the whole situation.

And Jake listened, he didn’t interject unless he had a question, and even then, he felt like he needed to wait to say something at all.

“I just – I feel like I’m on two ladders with all of this… One ladder is Shawn, and the other is Selena, and I’m doing the damn splits. I either need to pick a ladder or get off and leave both. But I can’t, Jake… I can not pick, I will not pick.” 

She harshly wiped at her eyes, “I just I fucking can’t, Jake… But either way, pick or not pick, I’m gonna hurt someone’s feelings.”

“Are they asking you to pick sides?” 

“N-no… I don’t know what happened, I know bits and pieces like I told you… but it’s clear feelings have been hurt, and I feel like it’s gonna come down to me having to pick, and I can’t fucking do that…” 

She pulled back from Jake, “And I’m terrified to like or share anything on Facebook from either of them in case it hurts someone’s feelings. I shouldn’t be fucking scared about that, but I am!”

“And,” she continued as more tears gathered on her lash line. “When they weren’t on speaking terms before, they wouldn’t be seen at the same fucking function together. If one was there, the other wasn’t. If one had no idea the other was gonna show up, they would stay until after dinner and then fucking leave.”

Jake felt his heart break as he gently rubbed her back. This was affecting her deeply. It would have affected her like this before the pregnancy, but it was tenfold with the heightened emotions.

“And… fuck, I feel so selfish for feeling like this…” She wiped her eyes again, “I’m afraid that if they aren’t on speaking terms by October, they’re not gonna be at the wedding.”

“Why do you feel selfish for feeling like that?” 

“Because Jake, I’m worrying about my own feelings over theirs!” Sarah rubbed her face, frustrated, “I’m worried about how this affects me, this isn’t about me! But just – fuck I feel like such a shitty person…”

Jake’s jaw dropped, “Hey, hey, hold on now.” He pulled her hands away from her face, “You are not a shitty person for having your own feelings about a situation. There is nothing wrong with that. You are not selfish for worrying about whether or not your brother and sister will be at your wedding. You’re not, Sugar.” 

He squeezed her hands, “Why didn’t you come to me with this? You know I would have your back…” Sarah sniffled and looked away, “I didn’t want to bother you… I wanted to try and do this all on my own…” 

“But you don’t have to… You deserve to know that you have someone to catch you if you fall off those two ladders. That you’ll have someone to go to if you choose to walk away.” He gently turned her head to look at him as he wiped her tears, “Do you want advice, or do you just want me to hold you?” 

She leaned into his hand, “I could really use your advice… I’m so stuck, and I’m so scared…”

Jake nodded, giving her a gentle smile, “I think that what needs to happen is that you just need to step back from them both. Just be honest with them and tell them that you can’t handle this right now. You are allowed to do that. The stress and anxiety is not good for you or the twins. It is affecting you a lot, Sarah… This whole thing is affecting you, you are literally making yourself sick over it.”

Sarah opened her mouth, but he stopped her.

“Your appetite is almost gone, you eat because you know you have to. I don’t think it’s just the food that irritates your stomach anymore. Yes, you’re pregnant, and you’re gonna be throwing up. But your mental well-being affects your physical well-being, and all of the stress and anxiety is making you sick.”

He pushed some hair behind her ear, “If you want to take a few days before saying anything, that’s fine. But I really think you should consider it. I know they’re family, and you love them both, but you have to think of how this is affecting you. Do not hurt yourself in order to please them, that’s not fair to you.”

She pulled back a little to wipe her eyes before looking at her lap. “I just don’t want them to think I’m mad at them… because I’m not mad at them.” Jake nodded and tilted her head up, “I understand that, and I know that you care about everyone so deeply… but you have to put that care into yourself, too.” 

She nodded, and he pulled her into a hug, “I love you so much, Sugar. I’ve got your back.” “Thank you, Jake. I love you too.” He smiled and kissed the side of her head before she pulled back and kissed his lips.

Jake chuckled, “Now, I can put on a movie, or we can watch MrBallen and cuddle before I go make dinner. Does that sound okay?” “Ooooh, we need to catch up on MrBallen, let’s do that,” Sarah responded, grinning as she turned to get the remote. “And yes, I had a small lunch before I came home, and I have some spare saltines in the drawer. I’ve eaten today.” 

He kissed her head, “Good girl.” She scoffed playfully and layed down next to him, turning on the TV.

After a few minutes, Jake spoke up, “You know, we could also say that your doctor told you to watch your blood pressure–” “Jake, focus on the strange, dark, and mysterious. We can work on it later, okay? I need the distraction.” 

He chuckled and nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

i know this is kind of a random, unprompted J and S piece, but my muse was playing off my deep internal feelings and brought this piece to fruition

never the less, i hope you enjoyed

and i will be getting to the twins arrival and the wedding as soon as i can! i'm just working on other series as well, thank you for being so patient with me! 💜

j and s tags <333: @milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @mamachasesmayhem @nobody7102 @djs8891 @kmc1989 @marbledaesthetics @fangirlbang @penguin876 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bellaireland1981 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @harryigprompt @sky2nd @scarlettwidow19 @showthemwhoyouare-6 @coffeewithcal @whatislovevavy

[the-artist-grimm]

for the ask game, 12, 17, 19 and 20?

12. Do you have a playlist for the character? What songs do you associate with them and why?

I've answered a music lists ask before! (and really need to make proper playlists eventually lol), but only gave vague reasonings I'll add more to here.

-Anthea has more indie to kinda sad songs because despite giving off a playful vibe they're pretty melancholic behind the mask. A smile is a way they brush off how they're actually feeling, and from Crane Wives to Vocaloid I get that sort of vibe-happy or at least catchy songs that are actually sad when you pay attention between the lines. -Narinder's got progressive metal/rock since he's pretty depressed in my AU. He also has a bit of a bleeding heart where he loves fiercely only to get hurt which I've noticed is a trend in Sleep Token or sometimes Starset songs. -Aym and Baal got Nightcore and Vocaloid mostly because they're kids and back when I was like their age of 11-ish that's also what I was starting to get into. Aym is more edgy cause he's got a little bit of a temper, while Baal leans more happy since the kid's pretty positive.

17. Are there any motifs or symbols associated with the character? How are they represented, in their design, personality or in some other way?

Anthea I associate with the '13th Hour' since when I think of Crimson Angel's vessels, I place them on a clock face, with each one counting down to the final in the center. The last vessel, the last sheep, the last one to try and free Death, the 'Unlucky Thirteen'. But contrary to my usual character design you actually don't see that on Anthea, their base outfit is a little bit generic and I'm thinking of redesigning it for their post-bishop/reconciliation era to help differentiate their starting look from the end, I designed them prior to really realizing how big this'd get so Anthea needs a little updating. I do however lean into a slight renaissance era inspiration for the AU, since I associate that with both religion and 'memento mori' (remember death) via its paintings.

19. What is your general favorite thing about the character? What is your least favorite?

Hm...I guess one major thing is that Anthea's an adult? My other protagonist OC, Chrysa, is 16 with her main party allies being between 16.5-21, while Anthea's 26-29+. They're more mature and experienced in ways Chrysa isn't, they got wildly different backgrounds, Chrysa's shyer while Anthea's more extroverted, and yet they're similar in both being people struggling to find a reason to live and to understand that they gotta live for themselves. It's fun having another protagonist to work with who's a little more aware of their environment for a change, as opposed to a teenager trying to learn how to understand it. The least favorite though is their legs. I hate drawing the digitigrade legs and need to practice more, they're super hard to pose. T_T

20. Bonus question: share any additional thoughts, art, favorite scenes, anything you've been waiting for a chance to ramble about

Anthea has very much risen FAST in my favorite OCs list, to where I kinda wanna include their counterpart as a side-character in my OCs world with counterparts to Narinder and the twins. Not copy pasted, besides Anthea I would change their names and they'd all just be normal mortals, but since I've kinda made these 4 OCs in a way anyway why not bring them in. (Hey I'm building these characters up, might as well use them to replace some of the cardboard side-characters I've had doing nothing plot-relevant for years.)

It's obvious but Narinder is very much a simp for the lamb, like he started falling fast and HARD like a year and a half or so into Anthea's vesselship. Anthea's fall was slower but simmering in the background, and it was only after Narinder said he refused to leave the Gateway without them initially that they finally realized it.

And lastly I did NOT expect these characters or this AU to get this far, but I'm so, SO grateful it did. Post-graduating college it felt as if all my friends just vanished because we all got so busy, and while we try to chat and stuff I was getting really lonely, especially as I struggled to find work. Like I didn't really know what I was doing as the days bled together. Yet since joining, this fandom's let me meet so many wonderful, amazing people though, and I am extremely grateful for that.

[starbeltconstellation]

HEYYYYY!!!

i hope you’re well ❤️! i just wanted to come on here for a second to express how grateful im currently feeling for your story. i found it on ao3 a couple of days ago (wish i would’ve found it earlier but now i got a nice chunk of chapters to read through and hyper fixate over 😄😄) and i have been obsessed ever since. genuinely, you’ve made my august with this story.

this story feels so special to me. i’m so excited and giddy everytime i open the website back up to continue reading it (mannn i never wanna finish it) and it’s like the best part of my day.

i just wanna say that you’re a mf-ing genius. a. genius.

everytime something happens in the story i genuinely GASP. LIKE OH MY GOSH. im going insane over this fic. (the theories are bubbling inside of my brain about melanie and what’s gonna happen later on, i also love reading about people’s theories too man its so nice to see how invested everybody is cuz girl I AM.)

this story, man, it’s GREAT. it’s not only very well written, which im sure everybody appreciates as the flow is so nice, but it is also exciting, intense and beautiful. every single character had been on point, mischaracterising isn’t in your vocabulary. it’s like you know these lot personally. but anyway, it is a pleasure to read, like i said, VERY exciting and entertaining. i love our girl mel so much, she is so relatable and honestly just so real 😭 her reactions to most things are so valid like, girl same! she’s amazing, i don’t think i’ve ever encountered an OC as interesting and cool and well written as her. her whole storyline is just insane, bless her having all of this pressure and stress on her too lol 😭😭😭 but what can she do ahah, i mean?! the scene with the shopkeeper telling her to go back to her world had me absolutely stunned i was SHAKING. but i do think she made the right choice, she’s so strong.

like despite the fact that she knows all the hell she will have to endure there, she DID chose to stay, which is such a sacrifice. man i just wanna hug her and say thanks (i am not in the star wars universe but …)

everybody else too though, like ahsoka, obi-wan, anakin, the clones, mace, etc.. are also really cool to see the OC interact with, this is such a comfort fic for me, genuinely. it feels like i know them personally through this fr 🥲🥲🥲

i love reading the other’s comments on your story, it’s so nice to see this community form😭 like i’ve found my people LOL

thank you for feeding our star wars and anakin obsessions with your lovely story, i can’t get enough of it i swear im making a playlist for melanie as we speak.

anyhoo, just wanted to let you know how much i love this story and how much i appreciate you putting effort into creating something we can all take comfort in <3 i hope to stay and interact a lot more as i go on about reading the story!

Ahhhhh, oh my goshhh. Thank you so, SOOOO much, my dear little commenter. Haha. 🥺🥹❤️ This message was a big surprise when I first received it (which was a while ago, I know. 😭😅 I’m really sorry for the delay in response. Life gets the best of me at times. I’m trying to catch up on my asks), because at that time, I was still stuck struggling on the final bit of my huge whopper of a chapter that is now FINALLY out. ✊😖 Haha. And I just want you to know that your comment was SO helpful and motivating to me. Like… I’m not even joking. 😭 Your comment and a handful of other loyal readers (like my dear @ensomniaa ! 😌😆❤️) are probably the main reason I was able to trudge through my writer’s block and depression to get out the next chapter. So, just… thank you. 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for taking the time out of your day to write out such a long and in depth comment with such gushing words about my work and about how I’ve been writing the Melakin romance dynamic. It makes me feel like my writing isn’t half bad. Haha.

I always like to take my time responding to comments, because I feel I should always take the time and care to write out a detailed response that isn’t just copy pasted. You all take the time out of your day to comment to me, so it’s only fair I do the same! 🥺💕💕💕 So… my point is… I’m SO sorry this response took so long. 😭 I hope the wait time won’t have discouraged you from messaging again in the future. They truly do bring me such a big smile. And while I might not get to asks or comments immediately—ALL of my reader ducklings WILL eventually see a response. 😭💕❤️ I have made that my life’s goal. Lol.

Now, onto the ask! 😁✨💕 I’ll put the rest under a read more.

I’m soooo happy to hear that you’re so obsessed with my story and that it made your August! 😁✨❤️ Haha, it’s always exciting when I see someone new has stumbled over my fic. And I feel you with that hyper fixation. 😭✊ I’m BEGGING for my brain to give the SW hyper fixation back to me so I can churn out chapters at the speed of sound like when I did first starting this massive project. Lol. 🫠 So far… it’s still not working. But don’t worry! I shall NEVER abandon this story. I swearrrr, this thing will be my magnum opus. 😭✊Loool.

The fact my writing makes you giddy??? 😭 The fact it makes you theorize (which I ADORE when my readers do and ramble in the comments so I can muah-ha-ha to them. 😈😈💕😂) and gasp out loud?? 😭😭 The fact that you ENJOY reading through the different comments and seeing other readers’s theories and reactions?? 😭🥹💕❤️❤️❤️ You are what us writers call a rare GEM, dear reader. 🥺🥹❤️ To not only LEAVE a comment, but also just how you seem to genuinely enjoy commenting/reading other commenters’s thoughts because it feels like a fan community?? (And how SWEET to say I’m a big enough writer to have a little community. 🫠 I’m cryingggg. 😭❤️❤️) The fact you think I’m… a genius?? 🫣🥺😭❤️❤️❤️ (Idk about that, but I’ll put aside my anxiety issues. 😌 It is a lying liar who liessss).

Thank you. Thank you from the very BOTTOM of my heart. Idk what else I can say besides that, because rare reader gems like you keep us starving writers chugging along. 😭✊❤️

I’m SOOO glad you feel like everyone is in character. 😭❤️❤️ I worried about that a LOT. Especially for Anakin and the clones. There’s just a certain way about them that you have to get right, or they become 2-dimensional if you don’t write their little quirks and ticks. And I LOVE getting to explore the clones’s and Mel’s sibling-like relationship. 😭 I based most of their personalities on how they act around Mel off my annoying brother (affectionate 😌💕😂). I’m also so happy you feel the Jedi are also in character as well, and that it feels like a comfort to read them, like you’re learning about them along with Mel. 🥺💕 That was actually a lot of the idea with this fic (besides me living vicariously through Mel to romance Anakin, of course 👀😂❤️) over how I would slowly write scenes to SHOW the audience the misconception about the Jedi/their culture/certain characters. I didn’t want to PREACH to them. I wanted to present them with the evidence that maybe the Jedi aren’t “repressive” and “emotionless 🙄🤢” as they might’ve been led to believe by a big chunk of the fandom’s harsh perception. It would be like it was happening in time with Anakin as his thoughts change into something better and less self centered.

And I HAVE actually received a comment on Wattpad from a reader that my fic helped change their minds about Mace and the Council! 🥰🥰❤️ And it was just… such a joy to hear. 😭❤️ That’s the idea with this fic. I hope to reach across the aisle towards EVERYONE—maybe anti Jedi fans will read my work and have their minds changed about their culture. Maybe someone who despises Anakin to the bone will read my fic on a whim and slowly grow to care about him/see the humanity underneath the surface, just like Mel has. And maybe by the END of this fic… I’ll have convinced some people that the Jedi are not at fault for their own genocide by “failing” Anakin—because the truth is that it was HIS choice. Maybe by the end of this fic, there’ll be fans who’ll read the work and grow to see that you can love a character while still criticizing them/knowing they’re in the wrong (ie; Anakin 😔💔), while ALSO still acknowledging that he went through such horrible trauma as a kid while a slave on Tatooine… but it still DOESN’T absolve him or give him the right to hurt others just because he’s hurting himself.

That’s what this fic is all about, after all. GENUINE growth and change. Not placating a man by changing a few moments that he won’t have to go through in the timeline that will suddenly make him all “warm and fuzzy inside” and see the light. TRUE redemption and change means that Anakin will have to grow and ADMIT he was wrong while not becoming defensive when his actions (*cough* the Tuskens *cough*) are brought to light. Essentially, I’m trying to “Zuko-ify” him. (Loool, I know. Pretty high hopes for myself there. 😭😂❤️)

I’m also soooo happy you love and relate to Melanie so much. 🥹❤️❤️ Almost all readers have told me similar things, and it’s so wonderful to know that I’ve made a character that has been accepted by a small portion of the “SW/Anakin fandom”. 😆😁💕❤️ Mel came about when I was one day reading over an isekai story and just… not being able to fully immerse myself, because the OC’s reactions just didn’t seem realistic to me. 😭 And so I remember sitting down and imagining how I would react in such a situation (immediate freak out/think I was dreaming/would run in terror from Anakin’s hot ass at every opportunity 😌❤️‍🔥😂), and then that’s how Melanie Bains came into being! Haha. ❤️😁

So, while Mel IS somewhat of a stand-in for the audience (it IS an isekai fic after all 😭🤷‍♀️), it was still very important to me to make her three dimensional and—while yes, very relatable—also make sure she became her own character who could grow into herself. So a hero’s journey was important, along with giving Mel an antagonist (The Shopkeeper) separate from Anakin’s antagonist (Palpatine), because it was SOOOO important to have Mel have her own character arc/story AWAY from Anakin. It was important that Anakin wasn’t ALL she was about. Mel has friends (Ahsoka/the clones), she has her own plan she’s dealing with to try and save the galaxy while barely giving Anakin a second thought besides terror at first, and most importantly—Melanie is NOT begging Anakin to change. That was soooo important to me. She doesn’t have TIME to beg him to change. There’s too much at stake already, and if Anakin changed FOR Mel, it’s not even true change in the first place. Instead, as you’ve probably guessed from my latest chapter, Mel is INSPIRING him to change himself, because of the qualities about her he is coming to admire which in turn makes him take a look at his own selfish actions. This is always where I think “bad boy/I can fix him” writers get things lost in translation. It’s not true redemption if they change FOR the girl, because—as the Marvel movie Shang-Chi has recently shown us 🥶—if the girl ever dies… then the “bad boy/villain” goes right back to being evil. 😭🤷‍♀️🤦‍♀️ What REAL redemption would be is meeting someone you grow to love who INSPIRES you to become a better version of yourself—not FOR them—but because you want to become someone like them. You want to stand by their side in the light and feel proud.

Anyway, I feel like I’ve ranted a lot. 😭😂❤️ But I just wanted to thank you soooo much again for your beautiful words that were so kind and truly brought a ray of light to my dreary days! 😭😭❤️❤️❤️ I only hope my long response time doesn’t discourage you from writing me messages in the future. 😅😓😭🫠 I’m so sorry again for the long wait.

But I have ADORED rereading your comment these past few days while I’ve been writing out my response. It’s so thoughtful and long and in depth and I lovveeee itttt. 😭❤️❤️❤️ THIS is what feeds our writer brains. Haha.

A playlist sounds awesome! 💕💕💕💕💕 I already made one for Anakin and Mel and the Melakin romance, as you can see from my last response. But I would still ADORE getting to know songs that you think fit with my fic and Mel and Anakin’s journey! 😭❤️❤️ If you ever do make it, please hit me up and send a linkkk! 👀👀🙏

Thank you so much again for letting me know my writing brought you such comfort. 😭💕 I hope you’ll stay and interact more as well! 😭❤️ I always love hearing theories or getting a comment to see a reader is rereading or that two readers are discussing something about my fic together. Haha. 😄✨❤️

And so, I suppose I’ll leave it here! I ADORE you and love you so much, dear reader. I am picking you up and hugging you like a stuffed animal. (Glomp!) 🤗🫂

I hope to hear from you again soon! 🥺💕 I’m so sorry again for the wait. 😭

And now… off to reply to four more asks. Lol. ✊

Gotta blast! 🏃‍♀️💨✍️👩‍💻

-

To any readers that stumble across this and are curious enough to check out my fic:

-

Tags:

@ensomniaa

@heartfairy

@fangirlteallie

@lemons-2-limes

@shoniwake

@silverwoodj

@lexskiss

@selenaftmarvel

[cnroth]

Fanfic Q&A

I was tagged a long time ago by @curator-on-ao3 and meant to do this later when I had time, but then I forgot. More recently, I was tagged by @strkamand, which has prompted me to actually do it this time haha. So thank you both!! 🩵 😘

1. Why do you write fanfic?

Short answer: Cuz it’s fun!

Long answer: I started writing fanfic in 2016 because I had spent the last year and a half clawing my way back to some semblance of sanity after a really shitty time in my life. We got Netflix for the first time and I found my favorite childhood show—Star Trek: Voyager. It was like a warm blanket in the cold.

I still remember playing Star Trek on the playground with school friends, inventing stories of ourselves as original characters on Voyager, and suddenly I had the thought—what if I actually did it? Made an OC that was actually complex and fleshed out and stirred her into the mix? Added more representation of mental health issues to the show? I also applied for grad school around this time with the goal of eventually working in the mental health field.

So I dusted off my old creative writing skills and began making fanfic as a way to share my ideas with other fans, explore ships and characters I thought were interesting and/or underdeveloped, or just enjoy playing with my favorite dolls while processing my own experiences, as well.

And here I am now, eight years later, still doing just that.

2. Which of your posted stories do you think about the most, even though the story is “finished”?

This is a complicated question, because the answer is and has always been the very first story I joined the fandom to share, and one that took me years to tell—the Far From Their Bones series. Technically, it is finished.

That being said, I may-or-may-not currently be working on something closely related to that… 👀

3. If you could give yourself fic advice from when you first started writing fic, what would that advice be?

I honestly can’t think of anything I’d say. I think that my fanfic journey, bumpy as it may have been, was what I needed to go through to become the writer I am today.

4. What’s your relationship to fic stats?

I rarely check them. Honestly, I post so rarely and a fair amount of my stuff is niche stories few people are interested in reading, my stats are probably shit anyway.

5. Is there a pairing or scenario or friendship you miss writing? If so, why? If not, why not?

The closest thing to an answer for this question is I suppose J/C. I used to be fairly prolific in that ship, but the community for that ship was eventually taken over by a few toxic people who manipulated other participants (especially newer ones) into a very narrow idea of what was acceptable as a J/C fan and shit-talked people who fell outside of that, and I ended up deeply burned. It took out my ability to read or write J/C for a long time. I’ve dipped my toe back in here and there since then, and I won’t say I’m done with that ship forever, but it definitely was a major pain having to grieve the loss of a ship that had brought me so much joy.

6. What motivates you to write?

Usually random story ideas that pop into my head when I’m trying to fall asleep at night.

Also, comments can sometimes prompt me to write more.

7. Why do you write for the fandom(s) that you write for?

I think that’s mostly explained above already. Someday, I might finally write the Hunger Games fic I’ve had in my head for many years, as that series of books/movies was also instrumental in my trauma recovery, but for now Star Trek: Voyager (and occasionally other Trek shows) is where I’m comfortable and inspired.

8. If you’re stuck writing a WIP, what do you do?

There are two strategies I use most often to deal with this:

One, making playlists of songs that fit the story in some way, whether through the lyrics or even just the vibe. Then I listen to that on repeat to help drive me into my other strategy, which is…

Two, I use imagery to develop compelling scenes in my head, mentally watching them and shaping them until I feel like I can write them down—even if they’re incomplete. In the end, I may end up dumping the scene, or changing it, or writing the most inspiring scenes first and filling in the gaps between them later, but ultimately the goal is just to get myself moving again.

9. What do you wish people knew about comments?

Comments prompt my brain to make more dopamine and serotonin. As a mentally ill person with a neurodivergent brain, that is HUGE.

I do my best remind myself that I’m writing fic I want to read, and that can often mean not many other people will want it like I do (or have the time to actually read it), but in the end getting comments lets me know I’m not alone and that my exhaustive efforts in creating fic are appreciated.

It’s also just like fucking Christmas morning when I see that email from AO3. Like, massive mood booster.

I also would like people to know that comments have, more than once, given me ideas and/or energy to write more.

10. Maybe there’s a question you wish had been on here. What’s that question (and answer)?

Not that I can think of 😊

I have no idea who has already done this, and most people I know who write have been tagged by the ladies who tagged me. If you have already done this, tag me in a comment on your post or something so I can read it!

And if you haven’t done this yet, consider yourself tagged!!

Let’s see ummmm @gijane-7702 @seema-unbound @cheile @caladeniablue @theredheadedcaptain @70thousandlightyearsfromhome anyone else who wants to join 🩵

[shikariix]

can i have oc lore pretty please

Always!! I love yapping about my brainchildren (fun fact my spotify folder with playlists for ocs is called brainchildren)

I don't know how to start this other than I am pretty much in love with Emily. She means so much to me. I had a bit of a struggle to figure her out at first, because despite the problems she had at home she was VERY insistent that that never affected her, but as time progressed I found out that she is actually deeply troubled and broken and I love her so much.

She comes from a pretty strange household setup - her parents split up when she was a baby and her mother remarried very soon after. Her stepdad (who she just considers her dad, since her actual father pretty much vanished for years) already had a son, so she grew up with an 8 years older brother, and when she was 7 her (half-)sister was born. So while Emily and her brother Barry aren't related at all, they are both the half-sibling of Ciara (pronounced 'kee-ra' - they are Irish). And their age gaps are pretty intense too!

Because she has such a full house to grow up in, Emily thinks she's happy. Her brother is one of her best friends, she's popular in school, gets most of the toys she wants, really she's not lacking anything. Except her mom will not pass up an opportunity to berate her birthdad any chance she gets. And her stepdad doesn't exactly know how to parent her as he's painfully aware she's not his child. He's kind to her, mind you, but he lets her mom take care of all the scolding and like, actual parenting.

Her parents are deeply complicated too btw. Mairenn had Emily when she was barely 19 years old. Having a baby was her attempt to fix her already troubled relationship with Emily's birthdad. When they split up, she went to a support group for divorced parents, and that's where she met Rónán. He divorced his wife because she was genuinely toxic and abusive and he has panic attacks because of it. I always wonder how he can handle someone as tight-wound as Mairenn because she is absolutely not the healthiest person to be with if you are anxious fhjgf but I digress

Uhm random fun fact! Emily is good at games and was allowed to do tryouts for an eSports team! Instead she went to college (also I never decided which game because I Do Not Remember which ones were popular at the time she was 18)

That's all for now bye <3

[elliehallers]

I'm going to start posting for some old fandom OCs that I was... weary about posting, but I don't think any of my followers are A*tis. (And if you are, well, this ain't the blog for you — I am not the one! Not me, bitch! 💅🏽) A couple of them are my oldest still-existing OCs ever! 😮‍💨

They are fan-babies of some Controversial ships. (I guess I dipped a toe with Cheryl Collins, but that fandom is dead anyway, and she's kind of canon.)

I'm not trying to get into the wrong searches, so the ships in question are:

(I was obsessed with Chenny in my teens! Because I'm difficult! 🫶🏽😌)

(In some idealized scenario where they get basic human rights in exchange for saving lives. And because a certain billionaire owes them one.)

I N T R O D U C I N G . . .

Sierra Alison Bass:

Party girl, bitch, and spoiled brat, until she OD'd on coke at 16 while clubbing and turns her life around. She is the result of the season 3 finale! 😃 Low-key daddy issues. Probably her Grandpa Jack's favorite. (I will be a "Jack is Chuck's father" truther in the afterlife! ☝🏽) She's trying her best. {Playlist}

Melody Lillian Bass:

Sierra's little sister by 5½ years. She's a pretty chill girl, but she kinda hates NYC. A Nepo Baby model, but she isn't spoiled or completely out of touch. (Thanks to her maternal family.)

Petra Marya Maximoff:

The eldest. She was hanging out in Wanda's uterus when Pietro died in 2015. However, he was brought back by... someone. When she was 7 years old, her parents reunited and she finally met him. (Fun fact: I used to have a 1k fic about this, but I deleted it from AO3 and threw it out. 😭) She is a very kind girl, a pushover, holds the world on her shoulders, and tries so hard to make people not hate her family. She is also a literal genius. Like... Bruce was impressed by her at age 4.

Rosabelle Natalia Maximoff:

She is beauty, she is grace, she will punch you in the face if you talk shit about her family! She is bitter at the world, she speaks her mind too much. She cries a lot. She's incredibly smart and studious. So kind to others until they give her reason not to be. Pretentious princess. A jaded girl. She prefers to be called Belle. (Though her elder half-sister Luna calls her Rosie, and she is the only one who is allowed to.) She has the abilites of telepathy and telekinesis. {Playlist}

Louis Stefan Maximoff ("Loo-eese"):

Belle's twin brother, younger by 14 minutes, and the only boy. He's a pretty chill guy, he don't really give a fuck. (Which, like... what option does he have when mfs call his existence "disgusting" as a hobby? It's either don't give a fuck or be strung out like his elder sisters. 😭) He is snarky and sarcastic, but friendly. A really cool dude. "Do no harm, but take no shit." He is a True Loverboy™, he can't help getting Goo Goo Eyes for multiple girls and some guys. I swear he is NOT a player! He has the ability to create and manipulate fire.

Nadya Jayne Maximoff:

The youngest, the baby — 6 years younger than the twins. She is a little gal. 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 Homeschooled Girl™. She is sweet and innocent, very overprotected. She wants to rebel. She also wants to be a pop star.

(And I didn't mention earlier: The twins are 10 years younger than Petra. Luna was born in between them.)

[gabriellerudessa]

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - XII

Return…

Supposing their Pip-Boys were still operational and allowed to open the door… Why would they? They would at least be punished in some way, just for the leaving and risking the Vault part. And then there were all the lies regarding Vault-Tec and Vault 31 that he now knew and Lucy would know.

He didn’t even know if he would be able to face his father again – if he was still alive. And if he did, what he would do? What he would say?

AO3 | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XIX | Part XX | Part XXI (Smut) | Part XXII | Part XXIII | Part XXIV | Part XXV | Part XXVI (Smut) | Part XXVII | Part XXVIII | Part XXIX | Part XXX | Part XXXI | Part XXXII | Part XXXIII | Part XXXIV (Smut) | Part XXXV | Part XXXVI (END)

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

Words: 3.472

Warnings: None

XII

Norm had to force himself to actually verify his sidebag, his hand going over Marigold’s hair every time he felt her starting to stir too much, doing his best to not stare at her the whole time.

Goose’s notes were more crumpled than before, but none seemed to be missing. However, a bunch of the plants he had collected were missing, most of them poisonous. More than ever he hoped to not find James again. His last stimpak was also missing, and while his first canteen had been dried out, the other one was still full and smelled okay.

He hoped James hadn’t eaten through all of Marigold’s food supplies nor gone through her water. Sure, she could hunt and together they could forage some edible plants and so on, but it would slow them down. And unless they reached soon that place with water in the map, he wasn’t sure how long his canteen would last.

Remembering the knife, he took it out. Specks of dried blood stained his Vault-Suit and boots, but the blade was clean and seemed to be sharpened. He threw a look at Marigold as he sheathed it again. Norm barely remembered putting the knife away, so Marigold should have took care of it.

After, he just paid attention to the sounds outside, keeping an eye on his Pip-Boy’s clock and noticing when slivers of sunlight streamed in through the gaps around the metal doors, the fire slowly dying.

“Marigold.” He poked her shoulder and she was immediately awake, sitting in a burst and in silence for long seconds.

“I ain’t hearing anything outside. You?”

“Nothing too.” She nodded at his answer and turned. “Did James take a lot of your things?”

She grimaced and pulled the backpack.

“Not as much as I feared, but enough to make me worried.” She cut a piece of dried meat in two and gave him one half. “Motherfucker ate all my dried radstag. Some cans of cooked ant and bloatfly are missing too, he stole all my rad-x, but at least I didn’t have radway for him to steal. He didn’t touch the healing powder, however, so that’s that. He also did whatever the fuck with the unpurified water I use for cleaning, the bottle is fucking dry, and drank half of the purified water I had.”

“So we really need water. How much food do you actually have?”

“Some cans of cooked radroach, bloatfly and ant, and dried molerat, what we’re eating. I don’t think he even found the molerat, the packet was very deep and it wasn’t disturbed.”

“How long it will last?”

Marigold grimaced, finishing her dried meat.

“If we’re careful and we don’t have any more mishaps like this, it should be enough to last us to Catarina’s cabin.”

“I can hear your ‘but’.” Norm crossed his arms over his knees and she sighed.

“I don’t like it. It’s cutting too close. Either I hunt anytime we can, or we stumble into a trader.” A shrug.

“We have enough caps for it?”

That actually made Marigold smile.

“I keep just some caps on my backpack. Most of it is hidden with me, so yeah, we have. The problem will be to actually find a trader around here.”

Norm almost asked where exactly she kept it all hidden – her boots would be a good option, but where they the only hiding place? It didn’t seem practical – but in the end just nodded.

“Low odds of finding a trader?”

“Before we leave the ruins, yeah. I saw enough at the camp to assume here is… Was Nip-Nip’s territory, but outside I think we have a better chance.”

“Then let’s hope we get out of here today.”

---------

By his Pip-Boy’s map, they hadn’t deviated much from their path. They still found numerous rubble walls, but unlike the previous day, the tracks left by Nip-Nip and his crew were recent and numerous, and Marigold used those to guide them. Sometimes it led to buildings whose entrances were more or less whole, but most of the times they easily lead around any blockage in the streets.

They turned, and an actual avenue that went endlessly towards the desert became visible, building only to the sides and no rubble wall blocking the path.

“Oh fucking finally.” Marigold sighed, hand relaxing against her rifle and steps speeding up.

Norm did the same, throwing a look at his Pip-Boy. Barely past the middle of the morning. He hoped it was a good sign.

He looked behind them; he had been tense, remembering James still up and about, since the moment they had left the basement, and fearing the man would appear at any moment.

“Think James will come for us?” Norm looked ahead again, and Marigold laughed.

“Oh, if that dipshit is alive, without a doubt. Even if there was no bounty, your words made his whole operation with Nip-Nip blow-up.”

“Not one to let things slide, then.”

“Nope.”

That made him think, of Ma June’s words. Of Lucy escorting someone with a Bounty over his head, the Brotherhood and a Bounty Hunter trying to find the Bounty…

Was she alive? He had no way of knowing. And in this world, so vast, there was no way of knowing. Her body could be just over a corner they hadn’t turned or behind a rock, lost forever, killed by everyone vying for the scientist.

He had seen the Brotherhood of Steel. They looked militaristic. After the previous day… If they were as ruthless as Marigold made them sound, he could only fear for his sister, if she got between the scientist and them.

Besides, while they had a lead for where she was going, not even Ma June knew if she had arrived.

The broken asphalt started to become sand under their feet, muffling his steps, both resisting and sinking under his weight.

Lucy could be already covered in sand, and he would never know.

The wind’s strength and sound increased, and Norm noticed Marigold’s shoulders drop slightly as she breathed deeply, and it mercifully distracted his thoughts.

“Back at home?” they passed another building, the whistling noise intensifying, the sounds of dry leaves and twigs against each other reaching his ears.

“You have no idea, Norm-Boy.” She gave the extra-trouble grin, no signs of lipstick that day. “Finally able to see danger coming from miles ahead again.”

They passed the last building, desert, hills, faraway ruins, rocks and plants trying to survive to wherever they looked, soon only sand under their feet, the constant noise welcomed against his ears.

He could understand why Marigold felt that way. Somehow, he didn’t felt that alone or in danger in the desert, not as the ruins and their eerie silence had done.

---------

Marigold noticed something in the horizon, and fumbled in her backpack for the binoculars – James had scratched one of the lenses, but thankfully hadn’t taken it – without stopping walking.

An attempt at a shed became visible. Two wooden posts up and a bunch of broken wooden planks going from them to the ground, positioned to protect from the worst of the sun. She looked around, and at least through the binoculars, there were only dried plants and rocks. Hopefully she wouldn’t find tracks once close enough, and it all looked improvised and empty enough that she doubted there would be any traps around.

She stored the binoculars again and threw a look at the sky. The sun was way past the middle of the sky.

Another look towards Norm, and it was clear he was doing his best to not drag his feet, blinking and looking around, but with slightly glassy and tired eyes. He hadn’t even asked or said anything in the last few hours.

“Cheer up, Norm-boy, I just spotted a good place for a lunch stop.”

Norm looked at her, blinked and nodded, his steps steady besides her.

---------

It didn’t take long for them to reach the place, her thoughts of no traps and no tracks confirmed. They sat under the improvised shed, and Marigold didn’t lose time in giving him a strip of dried molerat meat.

“Thank-” a yawn interrupted him. “-you. Damn it.”

“Yesterday was stressful.” She shrugged, and he half closed his eyes at her, frustration in his face. “What? It’s the truth. And your whole life changed these last days. Tiredness makes sense.” She bit into her own meat.

He looked at her for some more moments and started chewing on the meat, shoulders slumping.

“It’s a hassle.”

“A normal and expected hassle.”

She kept her attention on their whereabouts, eyes never too long at a single place, hearing the wind and the distant chittering of multiple animals it brought her.

“Will it be enough?”

Norm’s voice interrupted her scanning of the horizon, and she looked to see his thoughtful eyes, not seeming to focus on anything. He had barely eaten half of the meat.

“What? The food?”

He shook his head.

“Our speed. Find your sister. Mine.” He pressed his lips in a line, eyebrows frowning. “We have a fixed location where Catarina is supposed to be, but we don’t really know if Lucy reached the Observatory with the Bounty.”

Oh motherfucker. Marigold sighed, turning fully to face Norm, frowning back.

Last day had truly made him think and confront any fear not admitted regarding his sister’s current state of “alive or dead”.

She didn’t blame him. Lucy had been escorting a Bounty, after all.

Marigold also knew he needed reassurance, and not a “oh, yeah, that sucks, I get it”, even if she did. She knew it was better for her to try not to think of the possibility of arriving and finding the cabin destroyed and a shallow, common grave holding Catarina and Sarah; she would go crazy with worry, would stop paying attention to their surroundings, and that could not happen. It wasn’t only her life at stake, his was too.

“First: if Catarina and Sarah are alive and well, I’ll send them on their way to the ranch. They’ll know the path better than I. If something happened, and the Brotherhood is responsible...”

Marigold pressed her lips and dry-swallowed, noticing how he looked up at her. She wanted to say ‘I’ll make them lament it’, but she knew she was only one person with no real, big connections, and the Brotherhood was vast and old. She had no way of making them pay if they hurt her family.

“… I’ll mourn. And make sure the news reach my family. Second, about your sister… I’ll remain long enough to at least help you find a lead on her. At the Observatory or anywhere close.”

“And then?” There was a weird look in his eyes.

“It will depend.”

“From?”

“Where the lead takes you. Around here, the Wasteland between the ranch and the Observatory? I’ll keep helping you, until we have a definitive answer. It’s… Not easy, but not that hard to find people to keep my family informed and so on around here. But if it takes you far away…” She didn’t want to say it. She liked him, wanted to keep him close and see if she still could make him blush, to make sure he would remain alive and find his sister so the both of them could…

She never had asked what he intended to do once he found Lucy. Return to the Vault?

Build a life on the surface?

“You will return to your family.” He completed, voice soft, and Marigold winced.

“Yeah. I have responsibilities with them, Norm-boy… Sorry.” Her answer was equally soft, and he shook his head.

“Don’t be, Marigold. I understand.” He smiled at her, something in it forced, and looked down at his own piece of meat.

It gnawed at her. Fuck fucking it all. Fucking hell. She knew him just for a few days, and already that attached. She had spectacularly failed in reassuring him, that was clear. Fucking sappiness. Fucking lack of something actually good to say.

“But hey.” He looked up. “I’ll make sure to teach you as much about the Wasteland as I can before anything, got it?” Marigold tried, and the smile it got was a little better. Still not as she was used from him.

“Got it. Thank you, Marigold.”

---------

Norm felt worse as the sun crossed the sky and the afternoon kept going.

Not only he was worried about Lucy, he had to actually deal with the notion that eventually the both of them would go separate ways. The thought had been easy, before the both of them had a common goal and destination, but at that moment, after the last few days, after the feral ghouls, Nip-Nip and James…

He didn’t know if he was ready to cross and survive alone in the Wasteland. Even if he learned whatever Marigold taught him. Being all alone up here…

He hated the idea. Specially with how well the both of them had been working together.

“Hey, Norm-boy.”

He looked at Marigold, noticing how the sky was already starting to darken in the horizon. Had she seen a place for them to hole up for the night?

“Yes?”

“What you pretend to do once you find your sister?” Marigold took the binoculars as she talked, looking around them and slowing her steps, and Norm frowned, looking ahead.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… Will the two of you return to your Vault? Would that even be allowed?”

Norm grimaced and chuckled at the same time. He hadn’t thought about it all, actually. Not a single thought. He had to find Lucy. That had been his only focus.

Return…

Supposing their Pip-Boys were still operational and allowed to open the door… Why would they? They would at least be punished in some way, just for the leaving and risking the Vault part. And then there were all the lies regarding Vault-Tec and Vault 31 that he now knew and Lucy would know.

He didn’t even know if he would be able to face his father again – if he was still alive. And if he did, what he would do? What he would say?

“Norm-boy?” a hand touched his shoulder and he looked up. Marigold was frowning at him.

“I… Hadn’t thought about that. But I don’t think Lucy and I will be able to return, not with how we broke rules to leave.” He almost told about Vault 31, his father being pre-war, but the words seemed stuck inside his throat.

He still didn’t know how to talk about that.

Marigold nodded, hand still at his shoulder and guiding him along the path, and he noticed how she was steering them towards a specific direction.

“Tomorrow I’ll teach you the whistles we use.”

“You mean that one with the fingers when we were reaching the ranch? Why?”

She smiled. The pretty, soft one. The same thought from last night – beautiful – hit him in the chest like a kick.

It was easier to forget the thought when they spent most of the time in silence, focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other.

“Yes, that one. And it’s just so you can properly warn us when arriving with your sister.”

He tried to smile without showing how her own smile affected him – at least she wasn’t using the lipstick. Damn it, these thoughts plus everything else… What was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like in the Vault, where people most of the time just went ‘want to have sex?’ with barely a thought or whatever that was.

“So I’m invited to the ranch with Lucy once I find her?”

“Absolutely. As my guests, Ma can fight me if she doesn’t like it. Fuck, she’ll probably try and rope the two of you into working in the ranch the rest of your lives if you really decide to not return to the Vault. Honorary Bears or whatever.” Marigold shrugged, and Norm laughed. Despite how briefly he had known Guadalupe, he could see that.

And… He liked that idea, more than he wanted to admit. He didn’t even know how exactly both him and Lucy would fit into all that, but it sounded better than to be another rat in an experiment. It sounded easier and more… Not exciting, exactly, but not as dull and boring as the Vault.

Besides, he had already killed to protect the Bears, hadn’t he? And Guadalupe had said she liked him.

Maybe he was already an Honorary Bear, with Marigold offering to teach that way they had to communicate.

“… I’m glad you found me and took me to meet your family, Marigold.”

“Awwwn.” She half-hugged him, hard, and he felt her face press against his hair as he chuckled and patted her back. “I’m glad too, Norm-boy. Fuck, I’m feeling all mushy now, I’ll have to give you a proper hug once we stop.”

---------

That night, they managed to find another Red Rocket Truck Stop. The garage had collapsed, and they ended in a small room in the back, an old half-broken chair propping the door closed against the wind. It miraculously had a bed frame with a thin mattress over it, a thick layer of dust over it.

They ate cooked ant while sitting in the bed, back against the wall and eyes on the door, her oil lamp bathing it all in a warm light.

“Another watch night.” He commented as he finished the almost-melting meat inside the can.

“Yeah. But first, come here, Norm-boy.”

Marigold turned halfway and hugged him, arms around his shoulders, tightly pulling him in, and Norm chuckled as he returned it, arms around her waist and his head propped sideways against her chest. The leather cape was soft under his cheek, and he could both hear her heartbeat, strongly beating, and feel her slight soft humming. She still smelled of gunpowder, sand and blood.

After how she had curled around him during the shot out, he was starting to associate the smell with safety.

A proper hug, indeed. Even better than the half-hug from last night. He felt both of them relaxing into it, heard her heartbeat slowing. Marigold breathed against him, slowly, and he barely noticed when he closed his eyes, a small smile on his face.

Norm could get used to this. He wanted to.

But what he would do if – when – they went their separate ways? If he never found Lucy… Or he did, but then there was his father – alive? Dead? He didn’t know. But he knew how close Hank and Lucy were, how she got inspired by him…

He didn’t know how exactly she would take his words, about the truth behind Vault 31 and everything else. Believe him, believe their father – if he was alive and kicking –, act on it… But she would want to return to the Vault. To home. To fix it or just go back to her normal, he didn’t know, but she would return.

Norm didn’t know what he wanted after he found Lucy, not exactly, not yet. But he knew what he didn’t want: to be stuck inside the walls of the Vault, with no possibility of leaving.

Specially after having a taste of the surface, no matter how hard living in it was.

---------

After she had woken, half of Marigold had thought last night had been a dream. How understanding Norm had been, the fact that he had given her a hug, even if only one armed, not a single judgmental word towards her… And, really, his behavior hadn’t changed, not a single bit.

Something always had changed before. Even with the very few men that didn’t call her names or tried for something without her consent; something always changed, always got… Colder. The previous trust missing.

Norm… Was tired. Worried. Head a mile away for most of the day. Clearly affected by the notion of them eventually going their separate ways.

But not different.

That hug was proof of it. Marigold could feel the strength with how he returned it, pulling her in, how he relaxed against her. Still trusting her with his life.

She could feel the tears prickling at her eyes. Fuck, she had never almost-cried so many times for something that not The Lord of the Rings in such a short time. How was Norm able to bring it forth on her… So effortlessly?

Marigold tightened the hug a fraction, her cheek against the back of his head, and breathed him in – he still somehow smelled clean, a hint of sand, and leather.

The last one made her think of home.

God, she hopped so much that he would take on her offer and go to the ranch with his sister once he found her.

[demonicdeadbeat]

𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔯

I'm Oliver (he/they interchangable), I'm in my 30s, and I'm a roleplayer and writer who does (sometimes very) lazy literate style roleplay. I'm disabled, trans masculine nonbinary, neurodivergent and I like to think I'm a decent enough RP partner if we click. I have Discord, which is predominantly where I roleplay. I reply usually multiple times a day.

I don't care much about literacy levels or mistakes, as long as you have some grasp of English and we're having fun, why does it matter?

You must be 21+ to RP or interact with me. I have no interest in even SFW RP with minors. I don't care about your IRL gender or what have you though.

𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤

Most of these are m×m as I strongly prefer that. Enby×m is fine also. I do f×m incredibly rarely and only if I can play the guy. Trans and intersex characters are very much welcome. Some of my favourite OCs are trans masc themselves and I sometimes AU my favourite canon characters as trans masc too.

Generally I will play either half of these pairings. I also enjoy occasionally doubling up if there's a plot you really want to play also.

I enjoy writing smut and kink immensely, but do also enjoy plot too. A 50/50 split is good. I have a Kink Garden page I can give out on request to see if our kinks align.

I only use real person or solely descriptive FCs. No anime and no cartoons, sorry. I am not picky about your FC usually. I generally favour FCs over 25 at least, and tend to only play people over 30 myself.

I really like becoming friends outside of the RP, I love making playlists, mood boards, chatting, text message threads if appropriate, etc.

My characters are usually switches and vers, but I can assume a more top or Dom role, or a more bottom or submissive role, if it works with the RP.

I do not generally use Tupperbox or related bots but I could for the right RP partner!

Fandom Based:

Generally I am very open to AUs and love putting my favourite characters into them, so don't be afraid to ask if you have your heart set on an AU for any of the following.

Good Omens (Aziraphale × Crowley)

FFXIV (OC × OC only)

Baldur's Gate 3 (Astarion × Gale, Astarion × Wyll, Astarion × Halsin, Gale x Wyll, Durge × Most Male Canon Characters, Tav × Most Male Canon Characters)

Fandomless:

All of these ideas are deliberately vague, so we can plot together!

Modern with Supernatural Creatures (Vampire × Werewolf, Werewolf × Werewolf, Undead/Immortal race × Human, Monster × Human generally)

Modern with Magic (Any pairing that fits the setting, including AUs)

Dungeons and Dragons-esque/High Medieval Fantasy (Knight × Prince, Prince × Commoner, Adventurer × Adventurer, Monster × Humanoid generally, Pirates, High Society, Forbidden Romance, any other pairing that fits the setting, including AUs)

Modern (Kinky Hedonist × Newbie to the Kink Scene and other kink lifestyle based plots, Sugar Baby x Sugar Daddy, Musician × Techie, Poet × Musician, Writer × Editor, Florist × Artist, Artist × Muse, Soulmates AU, Forbidden Romance pretty much anything)

Omegaverse (Can be added onto any other plot tbh, I usually play Alpha or Beta against an Omega, but could play an Omega too if wanted against your Alpha or Beta.)

Interested? Contact me through this blog and I'll send you my Discord username!

[polariscroquis]

Polaris Croquis Commissions | Open!

This is my official commission post! I'll update things here until I feel the need to re-do the post (add new artworks, change prices, policies, etc.)

Right now, I'm opening 3 slots! I'll update when they are full/re-open.

If you found this post through a sort of "unrelated" tag, do forgive, but I want to keep things organized on this blog - I'm using all the artworks as refs for tags (and for people who might be interested to find my work too! "^^)

Now, I'll write more details below the cut - and I might update with info to answer eventual general questions I haven't thought yet! I highly encourage anyone interested to read it!

(below the cut, it's basically the info you get on the image, plus a few more things!)

Prices

Half Body (down to knees): $36

Additional Character: +$10

Full Body (down to feet): $46

Additional Character: +$10

The price is per additional character, so let's say you want two people on the commission, that would be 1 additional character, so +$10. You want three people, that would be 2 additional characters, so +$20. And so on.

*Commercial use is not added to the price. If you want it for commercial use, there will be an additional, depending on what you need it for!

Payment Info

I ask for half of the payment after I deliver the 1st sketch. The other half of the payment should be after I deliver the final commission;

I have a preference to be paid on Ko-Fi (via the tip jar), but I do accept PayPal as well. That's because I was recently commission-scammed and I was very scared someone would steal from my real life account;

Regarding revisions and payment: I'm not too picky with revisions, I just ask the client to have common sense. After the client tells me the sketch is fine and I can start working on the final thing, that's it, no turning back (don't worry, I always check like "ok, so I'll start working on the final thing, is there anything you want me to change? Now is the time to say!")

All my prices finish with 6 so it's easier for us to divide in half and pay half before and half after *math* :)

If you get to $66 you get a Papa Seal of Satanic Approval xD

Rules & Additional Info (so far)

I work within 1 week - but it might take more time if it's too detailed. I default 1 week, if I can't, I will let you know, don't worry;

Also, I do have some health ups and downs, if I get caught in a flare up (which hasn't happened in a while, hopefully it'll remain like this!), I'll let everyone know;

All backgrounds are simple - but keep in mind, I consider the Hunter's Moon background simple (some art deco/art nouveau too);

I also hold the right to refuse the commission if I'm uncomfortable with the theme. I do like some dubious stuff and Ghost, so you're gonna have to work hard to get me uncomfortable;

I will draw humans/humanoids in general (other fandoms, OCs, DnD characters, you name it);

I will NOT draw NSFW - sexually explicit (think porn/straight up sexual nudity), heavy gore/violence, borderline criminal/full criminal stuff, heavy fetish. It gets on the uncomfortable territory to me;

I'm ok with sexily alluring stuff, see my other examples for reference;

I'm ok with blood too. Vampires, horror movies, LOVE them. It's just when it's too graphic that it's a no-no for me;

I'm also a music moved person, so if you have a song as reference, throw it at me;

General Advice For Commissioning Me

You know those people who make fun of other people who are passionately speaking about something they love? I'm the uno reverse of that!

Seriously, the more you talk about your idea, the better I can work with it. If you wanna throw a Pinterest board with inspiration at me, a playlist with vibes, a collage, a picture of a cat you found on the street 'cause you want it there, DO IT. I need this kind of thing to work and you're making my life SO MUCH EASIER;

If you wanna write a 3 page explanation of your view, it also works, DO IT;

If you can't do any of that and is struggling, just talk to me. Artists train their minds to think of things in ways people usually won't think, so you can just list a couple of elements you want there, I'm gonna start having ideas and asking you a bunch of stuff so we get somewhere - just please, don't leave me talking alone, sometimes I feel I'm asking too much and being annoying xD

I'm a human being, I've been bullied and scammed as hell in my life, and I truly want to never hurt people like that. So, don't be afraid to talk to me, I don't bite (usually) and I'm working with this because I really enjoy doing it!

Alsoooo, don't be afraid to be yourself. That page with my other works, most of the characters are my OCs and one of them is a drag queen, the other is a trans woman, and one of them has a sort-of drag queen persona just because (long story) ;)

And be nice & polite, again, I'm a person too ^^

That's it so far! If there are any updates, I'll let you know!

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

ghostbur for the bingo :)

YAYYYY GHOSTBUR!!! :D

I have cried over Ghostbur. I have cried. This probably doesn’t sound like much, but I personally hardly ever cry. It is a Momentous Occasion if I shed a tear—which I have done for my love Ghostbur <3 His story is so unbearably tragic and sad and much of it fills me with anger, and just… he really makes me Feel Things. A lot of things.

At this point I sorta wish Ghostbur was my OC 😭 Because then I could give him a canon happy ending that does not involve Limbo or merging with Wilbur. Like. I dislike Both of those things with quite a passion. I want Ghostbur to be mine I want to give him canon soft blankets and canon soup and canon hugs with Friend and canon happiness & healing :( I also get very easily upset over Ghostbur takes that I don’t like, or when I see people mischaracterizing him, and I just feel so protective lol EVEN THOUGH I know he’s not my character! He is simply… so special and dear and beloved to me. I want to protect him :(

Literally my Ghostbur playlist is like 30 hours long okay I am not even joking. If I listen to a song, there is a High chance that I associate it with Ghostbur—a high chance!!! And this isn’t just with music either; I see sweaters, I see blue flowers, I see sheep, I see red hats, I see many many things, and I think of Him <33 My obsession over this little guy is Boundless and I could probably make anything about Ghostbur if I were to think about it enough. I’m half-convinced that every single AJR song could fit Ghostbur.

IF GHOSTBUR WAS REAL- 😭 IF. IF HE WAS REAL! I WOULD WANNA BE FRIENDS WITH HIM SOOOOO BAD!! I WOULD WANNA HUG HIM!! I WOULD WANNA LISTEN TO HIM RAMBLE!! I WOULD WANNA LISTEN TO HIS BEAUTIFUL STRANGE THOUGHTS!! I WOULD WANNA TALK TO HIM!! I WOULD WANNA GO ON WALKS WITH HIM!! I WOULD WANNA HEAR HIM SING!! I WOULD WANNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!! I seriously want to be friends with him so very badly. I am not joking about this.

I really don’t project onto characters that much, but oh. Ghostbur 😭 He’s already an extremely relatable guy to me (a rarity, I hardly ever find characters I relate to) and he’s also become very important & special to me, and I’ve… really accidentally found myself projecting 😅 I did not mean to do this!!! What do you mean he sneezes when he looks at the sun. What do you mean. I didn’t do that. That’s how he came in the box. I’m telling you. Believe me.

His yellow sweater is soooooo <3 I have been wanting to find and buy a yellow sweater that looks like his but I CAN’T FIND A GOOD ONE!!! MISERY!!!

*clings to the one-and-a-half Ghostbur streams that we ever got* Aksgajsgajsgjafs I know he showed up in a lot of other streams, but we didn’t really get much Ghostbur-centric content. A few good things, a few important things, but mostly he was there to talk to others/be friends with others/etc. I wish we could’ve gotten a few more streams because I want to see what his facial expressions were :((

Oooooh boy, snazzy indeed. Yes.

Ghostbur has an entire section of my brain all to himself lol, that’s what it feels like XD I have Other Parts Of My Brain and then I have Ghostbur. He lives there now. He does not pay rent but I don’t care because I’m happy to have him <3 I love this man.

*points* BEAN!!! He is soooo sweet and adorable I just <333

I cannot even tell you how many awful rancid Ghostbur takes I have seen 😭😭 Like… oh they make me angry. They fill me with so much rage. I will rant about these things. Likeeeee it’s super rare for me to find a Ghostbur fan who actually gets his character; most Ghostbur enjoyers have really strange, incorrect ideas about him. It makes me upset :(

HUGS!!! HUGS!!! GIVE THE MAN HUGS!!! LET HIM HUG HIS SHEEP AND BE LOVED!!!!!!

I have so much Ghostbur Knowledge stored away oh my goodness!! <3 I could go on and on for hours about this man, he Does something to me that cannot be contained. I love Ghostbur.

HE REALLY FREAKING FILLS ME WITH THINGS HE MAKES ME FEEL A LOT OF EMOTIONS HE IS SO BRILLIANT AND BEAUTIFUL I JUST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

But oh my gosh he got so much crap in his canon story and with the fandom oh my gosh. And his ending??! Please. I hate his ending with my whole being it makes me so genuinely upset and I hate it. Very AAAAAAAAH y’know.