#wish i could have done more over winter because i didn't have a lot of kits on the ground

[shrodingersbox]

it seems i may finally be on the rise, health-wise, and i've been able to get a couple batches in the tan! i had to bow out of the optimistic goal show i signed up for next month because i definitely will not be able to have enough inventory, but i may update the shop soon 👀

[thegnomelord]

me very patiently waiting for that mothussy :3

oh and here’s another wittle thing i thought…i tend to hc price as a bear hybrid or other so i think he would go into hibernations,, since hes still on duty he wouldnt go into a long-term one like other bears, but simply sleep a LOT of the day…i would wanna cuddle big bear price so bad awaawaewfgwh 🥺 hes really hairy but instead of it being coarse hair, its more fluffy cause its the winter!! so his facial hair puffs up a bit…and his chest hair…and the happy trail…you get the idea :3 idk i just like bear price i want him to pound me into the mattress and suck my cock until it falls off hug me!!

-❀

Give me like a couple more days lol, I got ghost and soap more or less done in a rough draft format, just need to write out price and gaz then a quick rewrite to clean up the draft. Cause rn all mini drafts are about 1k and very rough so when I clean it up they're probs gonna be bumped up to like 2k? Just knowing me and how my drafts end up doubling in size lol.

Also duuude you are a treasure trove of ideas lol. I want bear price now and now I'm horny so here's a bunch of bear price

Help a Bear Out

CW:NSFW, MDNI, daddy kink, dom/sub, oral, somno, edging, foodplay, cockwarming. Bear Price x Top Male reader Ao3

Imagine Bear Price who is by no means a small man any time of the year, bear genetics + having to be physically fit to take down terrorists leads to him having a very strong and imposing build befitting a Kodiak bear. The fur only adds to the striking image, making him look larger and his arms appear thicker, letting him scare many young boars from trying to tussle with him lest he crack their skulls.

But he turns massive in winter.

He can't help it; There's no escaping the iron clad control nature has over his body as his dark fur thickens and gains a fluffy golden color. No evading the instinct telling him to eat and rest and grow fat for winter until his hard earned muscles disappear beneath the cloak of fat. No ignoring sweet lull of sleep's song when he's yawning every five minutes and the words on the report swim in his blurry eyes.

Imagine Bear Price who, in his younger days, used to be self conscious about the changes his body went through. Growing up surrounded by humans was tough, dread would start building in his heart the moment the first leaf from the trees would fall. He's lost count how many times the kids would laugh at him when he'd show up to school after winter break with a chubby face and barely able to run a lap with how tired he was.

As he grew and started being curious about sex, it only got worse. He'd snatch the porn mags his sisters would buy behind their parents back, spending hours looking in the mirror and comparing his pudgy belly and fat thighs to the chiseled abs and lean muscles of the models. He'd spend hours exercising and trying to loose the weight he'd gain, but it would be all for naught.

And it didn't stop when he graduated and went into the military. His superiors may have tolerated the extra sleep and rations Price needed because he was a monster on the field, but they by no means were happy about it. He'd end up with thrice the amount of work and run ragged in training until he returned to his pre-winter weight.

Imagine Bear Price who doesn't give a shit about how he looks like now. Why would he, when he sees how you look at him? How you touch him? How you worship him?

Your hands wind around his waist and the groan you let out when you realize the space between your fingertips has gotten bigger is hungry. Your face burrows into his chest, his soft fluffy fur tickling your face as you nuzzle his pecks. The way his pudgy belly and love handles jiggle under your wandering hands makes you wish you had more arms so you could feel every part of him.

A content growl rumbles from the bottom of his chest, eyelids open just enough to watch you. "My boy's forgotten his manners." He chuckles, but there's no way to hide the wagging of his little bear tail. The reverent way you touch him makes him feel like a king.

"Sorry sir." There's absolutely no shame in your voice or your actions, not when your mind is held captive by the soft fluffy fur and the warmth of his skin. Without thinking you slide your hands up to grope his chest and you groan — the squishy fat covering his muscles and makes his pecs so large they don't fit in your hands anymore, fat plumping up between your fingers and his flesh jiggling as you press his pecs against your head and motorboat him.

The surprised laugh you earn is like ambrosia to sweeten the heaven you're drowning in.

Imagine Bear Price who gets so sleepy as the nights get longer and colder. While he still gets the work done, and for the most part doesn't mind the 'old man' jokes his boys make, it's obvious how irritated he gets when he's forced to stay awake longer than he needs to; each extra second spent explaining to a muppet how to do his job makes his eyes darker and voice rougher until he's passively growling like a construction engine.

Luckily you're there to calm down the beast.

Groping his ass or scratching the base of his tail to distract him so you can kiss along his jaw and rub your cheek against his beard. "You're doing it again sir." You mutter, voice smooth and low enough to soothe his prickled mind. Kissing him sweet and slow so you can tug his lazy body back into his room, into his den, where you can give him what his mind and body craves the most — sweet sweet sleep. . . and you.

Imagine Bear Price who's chest rumbles with a purr without stopping the second you settle into his den, his clawed fingers sliding over and groping your naked skin with just as much love and adoration as you show him.

Wrapped in so many layers of blankets and furs, engulfed by his bulk and his own fur, you are so so warm that neither one of you need clothes. Price's favorite position is to hug you like a Teddy bear. Despite the irony, it lets him wrap his body around you so you're safe and protected, practically suffocating in his fur. Not that you mind, especially when Price can nuzzle his nose into your hair or skin, to breathe in your scent to his heart's content and purr low praises into your ear: "Good boy,"

And, if you're especially good, he lets you use his ass as a pillow. He'll growl and grumble about not being able to scent you or hold you, but he'll soon be sleeping peacefully with you slumbering on his large ass.

Imagine Bear Price who, between the long stretches of sleep, get's horny. It's a natural reaction from sleeping next to his naked mate, wanting to feel you and hear your moans, but he doesn't have the energy to actually fuck. His lethargy turns the feeling of languid arousal into Hell.

Both of you try to initiate a couple of times; fumbling beneath the sheets, wandering hands roaming and groping as far as they can reach, his teeth nibbling on your neck and your hungry lips laying hickeys on his thick neck. Not wanting to undo the tangle of limbs you two end up grinding against each other, breathing the same air between kisses as sweet pleasure burns in your belies.

Then you stop just long enough to grab the lube, and Price's mind, still half way in lala land, only needs a couple of seconds of inaction to pull him back into deep sleep. By the time you return to him he's already snoring, limbs reaching out to grip you tightly and pull you close, but all thoughts of sex are forgotten.

And Price is so, so, angry with himself when he wakes up and realizes he left you high and dry again, shame eating away at his stomach because what kind of bear leaves his mate unsatisfied? The unworthy kind.

Imagine Bear Price who's mind is blown when you suggest cockwarming. Hibernation is about sleeping and relaxing, not strenuous sex, so the thought of being able to feel you while still fulfilling his body's need to rest? Oh it gets him hard.

It takes a while to figure out the perfect position, Price is too big and heavy to lay on top of you without crushing you, and his fingers earn to grip and hold you close so spooning him viable either.

Finally you end up with him laying on his back, legs spread with you laying on top of him and oh, it's perfect. You can feel him purr as you slide inside his blistering hot hole, his strong arms wrapping around you and claws scrapping along your spine. "That's my boy, perfect f' daddy." He mumbles through the fog of sleep, throwing one heavy leg over yours to keep you close.

You can't help the shudder that races down your spine, his musky earthy scent curling in your nose and making your cock throb inside him. You only stretching him long enough to be able to take you without tearing something, and Price relishes the slight sting of pain nibbling on his nerves when your cock hardens.

You don't try to fuck him, by the time you're fully settled inside him he's already snoozing. A slow roll of your hips and the resulting tightening of his hole is enough to sate your lust when it arises, enough to keep you half hard and stretching him out. His pecs make such a good pillow, thick fluffy fur and chest hair tickling your skin, the slow and calm beating of his heart lulling you to sleep before you know it.

Imagine Bear Price who gets an insatiable sweet tooth. There’s not a single secret stash in his room that doesn’t have his favorite bottle of honey in it. Hell, there’s more honey hidden in his room than cigars.

And his lazy mind decides to combine his hunger with honey with his hunger for you.

"Hold still for daddy, baby boy." Price mumbles against your abdomen, big hand gripping your hip to keep you still so not a drop of the honey he drizzles on your cock goes to waste. "Good." He purrs, wide tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at your tip, claws massaging the skin beneath them.

He can spend hours laying between your legs, lazily lavishing your cock with attention while satisfying his craving for sweets. Whine and moan as much as you want, uselessly buck your hips as best you can against his unfair strength, nothing will make him rush — with his energy drained he'll spend meticulous minutes following every vein on your cock with his tongue before he even thinks of gently suckling on your tip. "Relax my boy, just enjoy this." He mutters, lips pressed against the sticky flesh of your shaft.

And when he does take you into his mouth, it's just as slow. His mouth hangs open so you can see your tip resting on his tongue before he laps at your slit, drool and honey running down his chin and sticking the strands of his beard together. When all the honey is in his stomach he just drizzles more, nibbling on your thighs or stomach to keep his mouth and mind occupied with you before starting the torturous process all over again.

The slow torturous pleasure is easy to endure just so you can see his eyes light up when you start leaking precum.

Imagine Bear Price absolutely loves loves loves the salty tang your cum adds to the sweet honey, the delicate combination of flavor dancing on tongue and only fueling his gluttonous mind to demand more.

The distinct taste is the only way to cut through the fog of lazy pleasure in his mind, turning him greedy. Price mumbles and growls incoherent words around your cock as he swallows you down to the root, swallowing around you and holding you down when you try to buck up. "My boy tastes so good." He mumbles as he rises up, nuzzling his cheek against your weeping tip, looking up at you with hungry blue eyes. "Just for daddy, yeah?"

"Ye-yes sir." You whimper through your clenched teeth, your head lolling back against the pillows when he swallows you whole again, your tip bumping against the back of his throat. "Just fo- fuck, fuck,- just for you." You don't know how he doesn't choke on you but you don't have the mental faculties to even think about that when your brains are leaking through your cock.

Price smiles around your cock, the purr rattling his chest and making his throat vibrate around you. "Smart boy," He praises after he pulls off, precum and honey swirling on his tongue as he takes the moment to savor the taste. He knows how close you are, he can feel the cum churning your balls when he rolls them in his rough palm. "You can give daddy a bit more, can't you?"

You honestly don't know how long you will last.

Imagine Bear Price who can get so insatiable he growls like a tractor when you try to weakly push him off your cock, so aroused that you think even the slightest gust of wind will make you pop.

Price bites your thigh enough to hurt and only his hand squeezing down on the base of your cock keeps you from cumming. "And where do you think you're going boy?" He demands, claws digging into your skin to pull your hips closer, little kitten licks of his tongue driving you to the brink of madness.

"S-Sir!" You moan before you can stop yourself, your hips twitching uselessly against his hands, thighs shaking. "'m sorry, I'm fuck, I'm so close." You whimper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Every nerve in your system is on fire, pleasure so strong it's turned to pain along your body.

Price huffs, but his tight hold lessens. "It's alright sweet boy," He hums, placing a sweet kiss on your cock head. "I know how you can make it up to daddy."

Imagine Bear Price who's only placated when you slide your cock back inside him. Your muscles ache from the strength it takes you to hoist his heavy legs over your shoulders and keep them there, but your rewarded with the tightening of his sweet hole, a pleased rumble leaving his throat.

“G-good boy-.” He growls, long claws scratching down your back as you pound into him. Your thrusts are slow but deep, making his toes curl every time you bottom out, tip scraping his prostate and making his cock spurt a dollop of precum with every thrust. “Fucking daddy so deep. I taught you well, yeah?”

"Yes, yes, yes!" You agree to everything he says without hearing any of his words, your body moving automatically to bully your dick into him. Every thrust is heaven and every second spent pulling out from his tight heat is hell, the sensitive veins of your cock scraping against his walls.

He moans when you manage to clip his prostate with your thrusts, one clawed hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Harder boy," He demands, rolling his hips to meet you half way, other hand raising up to scruff you. "You can go har-hm!- harder. . . don't you wan- fuck, want to make daddy feel good?"

Clenching your eyes shut you slam into him as hard as you can, feeling the fat widening his frame jiggle with every hard thrust. Without thinking Price pulls your head down to smother you in his pecs, soft fluffy fur tickling your face as the ample flesh suffocates you. The sweet scent of honey mixed with his musk erases any vestiges of sentient thought in your head, leaving your animal brain to pick up the pieces — Pin him down harder and mate him, rut into him until he's roaring with his full chest, his hard cock slapping against your stomach.

Price reacts to the change in your behavior by pressing your face even harder against his chest, his walls clenching around your cock like a vice so you have to try harder to push into him. Price’s lips brush against your ear, voice low and rumbly. “My boy, come in daddy.” He urges you on, both legs now tightly wound around your waist so you can only hump your aching cock into him. “Co-mh!- cum, cum in me son, you want to be good for daddy right?”

That's all it takes to drive you over the edge, mind going black like a piece of paper as your orgasm rocks through you with the intensity of lighting. The sensation of your hot cum spilling into his hole triggers his own orgasm and he cums with a thunderous roar, sticky seed shooting across your abdomen.

You collapse on top of him, his legs keeping your softening cock inside him, not that you have even a single functioning muscle to try to pull out. His big hand cradles your skull, honey flavored lips placing soothing kisses on your temple. "That's my boy." Price murmurs, his chest rumbling with a soft purr. "Did so well for me." He yawns, eyelids fluttering as that fog of lethargy settles over both of you. "Now rest," The order is spoken in the softest voice he's ever used, and it works like a horse tranquilizer on you.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel his hole clench around your soft cock, the cum inside him squelching as his body unconsciously tries to persuade yours into filling him up just a bit more.

It's gonna be a long winter.

[witch-hazels-musings]

a gesture

Warning -> fluff | reader gets a blister on their foot, genshin men notice and provide respite from the discomfort | pre-relationship (it's silly, and dumb, but let me have this)

Includes: Diluc, Xiao

Character X GN Reader (adventure guild reader*) | Anthology

A-N: I was planning on writing for a few more characters, but I'm a bit slow in my genshin right now, plus I *should* be resting ... 人(_ _*)

Diluc

"Be right there!" you shouted over the calls echoing in the hall. Your hand dropped from your lips and back to the stack of rolled papers in your arms. The guild was busier than normal. Perhaps it was because of the snow fading from the streets, or the warmer wind blowing in from the south. Being surrounded by the lake meant damper and colder winters, but you didn't mind.

You loved the snow.

What you didn't love was returning to restrictive shoes now that the cobblestone streets were less barred by ice. You missed your warm fur-lined boots.

"Hey, got a few more requests for you to review," you told one of the auditors as you leaned onto the polished wood counter that separated you from the workers just inside. You tapped the toe of your shoe on the floor to force room between your heel and the leather rubbing against it. "Oh, and this came from Alfry." You reached into your pocket and handed a folded, sealed letter to the attendant.

After waiting for several minutes, and shifting from one foot to the other - relief waning and waxing - you made your way outside toward the Kiosk near the front of Mondstadt. It took a while, you were particularly slow on the stone steps of the city since each one put added pressure on your heels. You could feel a blister on the horizon.

Katheryne greeted you with a wave when she saw you.

She was, without a doubt, one of your favorite people. She didn't lock you in long, uninteresting conversations about her life outside of work. She just thanked you for the updated commissions and let you be on your way. You wished everyone was like Katheryne.

It wasn't that you hated talking to people. You just preferred to get your work done and found it distracting to get lost in small talk about the weather. But you learned to be pleasant and control your drifting eyes that willed your soul to be anywhere but there.

When you approached the Guild, someone called you over and explained you were being requested in one of the assessment rooms. A room used by evaluators and requestors to work out the details of a commission. You weren't an evaluator - so who could possibly be asking for you?

You imagined several scenarios except for this one. The one where Diluc Ragnvindr was standing on the other side of the door, waiting for - you. In fact, you were so unprepared, taken aback, that you rechecked the room number.

It was odd to see Diluc outside of his normal patterns. The man was routine. Days spent at Angels Share, days absent from the city while he tended to his estate at the Dawn Winery. You had several run-ins with him over the years since his reappearance, but they were always in public spaces. Fleeting, nervous moments when you'd gather the courage to ask him for a drink while he worked or make polite - short - conversation when he dropped it off. You didn't even know he knew you worked at the Adventurers Guild.

"Sir Ragnvindr, is something - how can I help you?" you asked as you stepped inside the room and let the heavy door close behind you.

"Have I pulled you away from your work?"

"Yes," you said but caught yourself, "No. I mean, yes, but it's alright. Are you alright?" The thought crossed your mind that perhaps something had happened. An issue at the Winery or the tavern, maybe he thought you were the best person to help him? Not sure why. But you did know a lot of adventurers.

"I am well. Please," he gestured to the table and chairs beside him. Crossing the room, you noticed a tall, decorative bag on the corner of the table. The top was knotted by someone with experience. Diluc placed his hand on the table, and you stopped a few feet from him. He looked -- odd. Out of sorts even.

"Did you need something from the Guild? I'm not sure if anyone told you, but I'm not an evaluator, but I can find someone who can assist you in building a commission report."

"I do not require one. I am ..." he clenched his jaw and fumbled. "Please, sit," he repeated, gesturing to the chair slightly pulled out beside you.

Confused, you took a seat.

You considered yourself a rational person, a relatively calm person. One that could keep their head in most situations, but when the man you could hardly look at long enough to breathe knelt in front of you, lifted your calf, and began to untie your shoe, you yelped so loud it startled him.

"Dilu- I mean, Sir Ragnvindr, what are you doing!?" You reached for his arm but pulled back at the last second. A war raged inside your mind - one billowing urge shouted to push him away so you could steady your fluttering heart, and the other shrieked, terrified of making contact out of fear he'd know the truths of your unsettled heart.

"These are uncomfortable, are they not?"

You glanced at your shoes. "I mean - yes, but you don't have to worry about it. Please," you begged, fingers hovering above his hand, body fighting the will to rip free from his grasp. "Sir Ragn-"

"Diluc," he interrupted and looked up at you, "I much prefer when you call me Diluc."

You didn't know how to respond, didn't know how to react, so you just sat frozen while he carefully removed your shoes and tended to the wounds they had caused.

His touch was warm. Violently warm. It was like heat seeped from every bit of him. Tendrils of flames licked across his brow, his cheeks, his jawline. You were so close you could smell the earth and trapped dust from the melting snow trapped in his clothes.

He placed the bandage across your foot and carefully wrapped it until it was secure.

"T-Thank you," you mumbled. You were stuck between being embarrassed by what was happening and being smitten by it. You were in a haze. Your eyes could barely focus on his hands as he worked, barely noticing the stick he placed beside your right foot. The medicine he applied had soothed the soft burn of the blister.

He stood and a wave of his scent washed over you. It took a moment for you to catch your breath, but when you did, you reached for your shoes that he had placed on the table.

"I'll repay you for the treatment."

"No need," he replied as he tugged at the decorative cloth bag. His back blocked you from what was inside. You worked on stretching the laces of your shoes so you could slip them over your foot. Just as you were about to place them on, Diluc returned and stalled your actions, taking the shoe from you and returning it to the table. He easily held your calf and slipped on another shoe. A flat, wide one that wouldn't rub against you the way your own had. "How does it fit?" he asked as he carefully slid it over your heel and adjusted it until it was on completely.

The shoe was elegant, beautiful. Something you would only dream of buying - most of your clothes were from sales and take-bins of neighbors doing their yearly cleaning. These were --

"Wait - did you buy these?"

"I did. But I was unaware of your size. If these are not satisfactory, I purchased several others which may be more suitable for you," he explained and that's when you noticed the stack of boxes now exposed from the cloth bag. Two boxes were placed to the side, another still in it, while the last was open, the lid placed at an angle as if forgotten.

"You bought," you paused, disbelief pulling in your brows, "multiple pairs?"

"It seemed better to purchase multiple than to guess. Though I could have inquired from you directly," he trailed off as if the thought had only just crossed his mind.

But only one crossed yours, "Why?"

He looked up at you, still kneeling and preparing your other foot to accept your new shoes' partner, "I notice you. You would be unable to work in this state."

"Noticed me?"

"Yes. Besides, I couldn't rightfully ... never mind."

"What," you blurted, hanging on his every word.

He glanced at you and then looked back at your feet. There was a pause, a heavy pause in the air. "To see you in discomfort. It - It did not sit well with me."

You sat in silence as he ensured the shoes fit, as he laced them, and made sure they wouldn't irritate the bandage. You held your tongue and swallowed the pounding pressure in your chest when he lifted you from the chair and made sure you could stand before he let go.

You breathed him in while he stood before you.

"I will be at Angel's Share tonight. I can set aside some time for you, should you find yourself-"

"Okay," you blurted again, followed it up with an embarrassed sorry. It made him laugh, and you snatch the lurching urge to jump on him.

"Until then," he hummed, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do not rush in the meantime. I have already given my recommendations to the guild to allow you rest, though I do not imagine you'll heed it."

Diluc packed up the bag and bid you farewell, lingering his voice on the sound of your name, his eyes on your warm face. He slipped out of the room and left you in disbelief in a pair of beautiful crimson shoes.

--

Xiao

Why did you decide to wear these shoes?

You thought at least twenty times as you trudged down the path. As you hiked over the mountain passes that had seen better days in their time. A giant bolder blocked you a few paces back and you were still brushing yourself off from the unprepared scramble; you found a tear in your clothes and groaned.

For an adventurer, you got off pretty lucky. Only taking the low-priced requests. Ones left for running between towns, helping clear out someone's back room, or helping with a shipment. You weren't interested in the daring adventures that some in the guild would take, snatch up before you even had a chance to read the whole thing. And you certainly weren't about to follow in the footsteps of that strange traveler who - for a while - was accused of killing the Liyue Archon. (You still had your suspicions).

Nope, you were complacent, content with the simple jobs that helped you keep the lights on and splurge on the things that caught your eye. One of which was currently on your feet and digging into the skin uncomfortably. You hopped on one foot and shoved your finger inside the edge of the shoe in the hopes of stretching out the tight leather.

The top of the path crept over the horizon and you picked up the pace to reach it. You adored cresting the hill and seeing the harbor stretch across the bay, how the tall mountainside loomed above her - a watchful guardian, a shield and protector. You sighed and adjusted the pack on your back. The road into the harbor wasn't long, but it was steep, and you prepared yourself for a rough descent with your aching feet.

Every step slowed you down. Each one more uncomfortable than the last. You thought about taking off your shoes but didn't want to catch the disapproving glares that came from Liyue's citizens. So, you pushed forward.

A plume of green and black smoke enveloped you. You would have shouted but you were used to the sensation and how it obscured your view. Months ago you stumbled upon the smoke's owner in a field. He seemed injured so you went to check on him only to learn he was fine, and rather unappreciative of your concern - actually, he was irritatingly annoyed that you had distracted him from his lay-about.

"Hello, little Xia--woah!" Instead of appearing near you like he had before, you were suddenly floating in the green smoke. It whipped through your hair, tugged at your loose clothes, and bit at your skin. You felt like you were falling, and then you were - into the arms of the Adeptus who normally kept his respectful distance from you.

When your eyes adjusted to the return of light, you twisted to look at him, one arm draped over his shoulders as if he had placed it there.

"What are you-?" The words caught in your throat. Confusion, surprise, and bashful bewilderment tickled your cheeks and stole your ability to speak. Your face was inches from him. Closer than it ever had been before.

"You're injured," he spoke softly, matter-of-factly, his eyes drifting to your feet. You could already see the broken skin around your heel.

"It's nothing. Just my shoes," you explained as you stared at your own feet as if that explanation meant anything to him.

"Hold on," he said as he held you to him and the two of you disappeared into a puff of ethereal phthalo.

--

Xiao placed you on the small stool you had left out on the balcony the night before. He was careful to not let you crash into it. His strength - despite his size - was easy to sense as he eased you onto it and waited for you to settle.

"Thanks," you hummed, stealing a peek at his eyes. Eyes the shade of ginkgo trees in fall, eyes that held eons of history and centuries of sadness. Xiao didn't speak much, but his searching and timid eyes quenched your thirst for his voice.

He lifted your leg and you covered your mouth to avoid making a noise. Before you could ask him a question, he withdrew into his haze and was gone. You sat motionless for only a few seconds, and contemplated entering your house as you, in a daze, took off your shoes but when you rose to leave, Xiao reappeared holding a small container.

"For your injury. It's important to - take care of yourself," he mumbled the last part of his sentence as he held the container out to you. Averting eyes, open fingers unmoving, waiting for you to take it.

Your fingertips brushed his skin. "Did you get this for me?" He crossed his arms and didn't answer but his actions still made your chest warm and lips pull into a giddy smile.

"Don't dally," he scolded and threw you a sharp stare, "Or you'll be left with a scar."

"Oh right." You nodded and uncapped the container. The salve held a potent medicinal scent. "You don't have to stay," you added, a little sad at the thought of him leaving but recognizing that he didn't enjoy the sights and sounds of the city. His avoidance one of the many secrets locked in the amber of his soul.

"I'll wait."

You opened your mouth to protest but he turned his back to you, crossed his arms. Watched, observed. Protective.

"Thank you, Xiao," you whispered and chuckled at the grunt that floated toward you from the Adeptus statue standing near the corner of your balcony.

--

[runningfrom2am]

the wedding // LTPF

summary: the wedding of the year, i can see it now.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. she's a bridezilla for REAL and i wish i included more of that energy, protective!coryo, idk people are drinking alcohol? (its a wedding, so duh), also TW for Livia and r's dad just existing p much.

based on this ask and this ask!

series masterlist // playlist

Everything was perfect. Absolutely everything you had dreamt of your whole life when it came to your wedding. Coryo had told you money was no object, and therefore, you spared no expense. You had a strong theory that your father was being sent every last bill, since you knew neither of you had anything more than what the Plinth's were providing for school, but that was the farthest thing from your problem. It was the least your father could do.

The hardest part of the whole thing, even before deciding who would give you away without your father, was deciding on your maid of honour. You didn't have many good friends, or friends at all, outside of your new husband. At one point, you wondered if had things gone differently, would you have chosen Lucy Gray?

Clemensia Dovecote was a fine enough choice. "Let me just say," Her speech began, hitting the side of her overfilled wine glass with a fork. "I have called this wedding for years, and no one believed me." She shot a smile over to you at the head table. "For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Clemensia. Y/N's Maid of Honour." She had just thrived on the title since you offered it to her which, while annoying, was good because she took her position very seriously. She was the perfect choice- she looked nice, presentable in a dress you had picked out, but the colour clashed with the yellow in the whites of her eyes and the few scales that were yet to fall off after the snake bite. She looked fine, but she also made you look better. "But like I said, I knew this would happen."

She was drunk, repeating things in a way that made you cringe internally but nevertheless, you had to watch. The lights spread across the large backyard of the Plinth's mansion lit up the night beautifully, bouncing off every white and red rose you had spread about. You were very grateful to them for allowing you to host the reception there. They had done a lot for you in the last year since you returned from Twelve.

Mrs. Plinth was very involved with planning the wedding- she loved the winter wedding and leaning into it as a theme. It worked out nicely because it gave her something to think about other than the death of her only child, and she was a tremendous help and support to you. You were truly grateful, but this day was hard on them without Sejanus there. She had mentioned on more than one occasion that Sejanus would have been the best man, and you only slightly doubted that. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else- but Coryo would have had different thoughts, you're sure.

"How much longer will this go on for?" Your now husband whispers in your ear, fake smile on his face as he also has to listen to Clem's rambling.

"I really don't know." You reply with the same fake smile, knowing that eyes were on you just as much as her.

"Some choice for a maid of honour." He chuckles.

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. "Oh, well, I would have gone with Arachne Crane but, you know..."

"Fair enough." He mumbles, sitting back in his seat. "Are you really the only woman in the Capitol who isn't insufferably annoying? You should have been your own maid of honour."

"Well it was her or Tigris, and Tigris is prettier than me so she wasn't really an option." You hum, grabbing his hand under the table as you keep your eyes focussed on Clemensia, not paying attention to a word she says.

Coryo laughs. "Tigris is not prettier than you."

"She's your cousin, your opinion is invalid." You shrug it off.

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right." He argues, squeezing your hand.

You don't reply, and you let his hand go to clap once Clem is finally finished. You had already eaten, so now it was supposed to be the "fun part", as Clemensia so aptly put it in her speech. You found it rude, yes, but it wasn't a big deal and after tonight you wouldn't have to see her again for a while.

It was brisk out, being a winter wedding you should have expected that, but you still had another dress to change into so you excuse yourself from the table, kissing your husband goodbye as he gets up as well.

You hadn't allowed him to see any of your dresses, and this would be your third one today alone. He loved every one, and did not expect to be disappointed by the next. Or the one after that.

"Hey, congrats, Coriolanus." He tears his gaze away from your retreating figure to whoever was talking to him.

"Thank you, Hilarius." He nods, smiling politely at him and reaching out to shake his hand.

"I saw this one coming miles away." His classmate laughs. "You remember that though, right?"

"When you said that if I wasn't going to go after her you would?" Coryo asks, eyebrow raised. "I do remember that. It makes me wonder who let you in..." It's meant as a joke as he makes a point of looking past him toward the security they have at the entrance.

He furrows his brow when his eyes catch on your father standing there, arguing with one of the security guards, his wife by his side.

"If you would excuse me..." He says, walking toward them before Hilarius could even respond.

"Ugh, I know. Why did you even invite her, Y/N/N?" Clemensia complains as Tigris helps you step out of your gown.

"Who?" You ask, unsure what she was even talking about.

"Livia." She states, yet another glass of red wine in her hand.

"Oh, I kind of had to. Connections and all that." You shrug. You weren't Livia's biggest fan, she had a "greater than thou" attitude that drove you up the wall, but who in this city didn't?

"Ah, yes. Of course." She hums. "She had a lot of audacity to show up in that dress though..."

Your head whips around to look at her. "What dress?"

"You haven't seen her?" She gasps. "I thought you saw her! It's this white-based floral, really questionable for someone else's wedding. Looks like a tablecloth." She accentuates the statement with a sip from her glass.

Your jaw ticks and you look toward the door, already seeing red.

"Hey, Y/N, it's okay." Tigris rests her hands on your shoulders, prompting you to look at her. "We'll tell security, they can escort her out if that's what you want."

You take a breath, forcing a smile on your face. "Let's not bother them. I'll just go chat with her." You smile, stepping out of the dress in bare feet, quickly grabbing Clemensia's overfilled wine glass from her hand on your way out the door.

"Y/N, Wait! Don't!" Tigris calls after you, well aware of your notorious temper by now, but you don't listen.

You're in your white slip when you storm back out to the reception area through the back patio, immediately and quickly scanning the crowd for the guest in question. You know you have seconds before Tigris likely tries to stop you, but you know Clemensia won't. Then, you see her.

You're seething already. That's practically a wedding dress on its own. You would kill her.

You stomp across the ground, tunnel vision locked on her as she raises her glass to her lips, laughing, and talking with other guests, completely careless to what she had done wrong. Well, she would learn today.

"Livia Cardew!" You grin, walking up to her. "I don't recall sending you an invitation, but here you are!"

Immediately, she's taking in your appearance, giggling at your lack of appropriate attire and shoes. "Y/N! Congratulations." She says, eyes finally locking with yours again.

"May I have a word?" You ask, already grabbing her arm and pulling her away.

"Is there a problem here?" Coriolanus asks, addressing only his security as your father stands there, red-faced with anger.

"Yeah, they've got no invite." He nods, showing Coryo the list in his hands which he quickly pretends to look over.

"Oh! Sorry, yes. There you are..." He says, pointing down at the bottom and your father visibly relaxes. "Under the title there that says 'not welcome under any circumstances'... Well then." He looks at your father now for the first time, tilting his head at him.

"No, this is my daughter's wedding and we will be let in!" He demands, raising his voice.

Coryo clicks his tongue, slightly shaking his head. "No, sir, I thought we were clear on this."

"No, you said the wedding. This, if I'm not mistaken, is the reception. I made my sacrifice. Now, I'm here."

"And only about two hours late." Coryo hums uninterestedly, looking down at his watch. "Father of the year."

Your father's fuming, and it's hard for Coryo to not laugh in his face. "I paid for everything here! You can't deny us entry!"

"I can." Coryo says. "Well, actually, my apologies. Mrs. Y/L/N, you are welcome to come in, if you'd like." He smiles at her, polite demeanour flicked back on like a light switch.

Your father quickly pulls her back behind him. "It's both of us or neither of us. Go ask our daughter." He states, gripping tightly on her arm.

"Oh, no. I won't be ruining our wedding." Coryo shakes his head, firm in his decision. "I'll tell Y/N you send your love, Ma'am. Have a good night."

"No! You will let us in right now or-" Your father's tantrum is interrupted by a commotion across the yard, drawing Coryo's attention. People gasp in shock, and then he sees you, about to absolutely lay into Livia Cardew, who now has red wine all over her face and the front of her dress.

"I must be going, now." Coryo tells them, turning back to the security guard and adjusting the cuffs of his shirt to be able to roll up his sleeves. "If you don't mind, call for peacekeepers to escort him from the property. Thank you."

He doesn't have time to hear your father's angry disagreement as he walks away.

"So," You drop her arm, turning to face her. "I'm not sure if you are aware, but this isn't your wedding." You spit, gesturing to her dress. "And listen, I get it! You're jealous. That's fine, but it's extremely tacky and honestly embarrassing for you to wear a white dress to a wedding that's not yours."

Livia's lips fall open in shock, looking down at her dress before she laughs. "Y/N, come on. It really isn't that serious, you realize that, right?"

You stare at her for a moment, weighing your options. You could smash the glass over her head like you wanted to, demand that she leave immediately, or, you could 'accidentally' spill the glass on her. Before you complete the thought, you're throwing the contents of Clemensia's glass at the front of her dress, smiling as it splatters up over her face and in her hair, dripping down the front of her expensive-looking gown.

"Oops."

Livia gasps, wiping the red substance from around her eyes and flicking it off. "I thought that for one day you could be normal! God, you are vile!" She's practically screaming now.

"This is entirely your fault, you do realize that, right?" You tilt your head at her, a slight laugh under your tone. "If you wanted my husband just say that."

"I- ugh!" She groans in frustration and anger, swiping her hands over the liquid on her chest and flicking it all at you, staining the perfectly white satin of your slip. You look down at it, and then back at her. You were about to go through the roof.

The amount of people watching in the immediate vicinity is the only thing keeping you from grabbing her hair and shoving her head into the dirt. You decide to scream instead.

It turns into more of a wail, pumping angry tears into fake sad ones. Coryo is there in a second. "Darling, what's happened?" He asks, horrified as he looks between the two of you, grabbing your shoulders.

"I-" You sniff, pointing to the girl in front of you. "I just came to offer her something to change into because that is out of dress code and I tripped and-" You hiccup as he's rubbing up and down your bare arms. "It was an accident, and then she... It was just an accident! Now my dress is ruined and, and-"

He turns his gaze to Livia who just looks pissed while you ramble on about having had a little too much to drink, that was all. He's sure that's not what happened, he knows his wife better than that, but this show was not for him. He looks her up and down, visibly disgusted by her choice of dress. It honestly looks better now.

"Coriolanus that's not-" She chuckles with the shock of the accusation, shaking her head as she pleads with him.

"It's time for you to go." He tells her, looking toward a member of security who's not busy with your father, quickly waving him over.

Livia looks at the approaching security man in shock. "I didn't do anything!"

"That dress and causing a scene over it is more than enough." He states, wrapping an arm around your waist and wiping your tears from your cheeks. "Let's get you some water, Darling. It's okay..."

"It's not!" You cry, gesturing to the few small drops of wine on the front of your dress. "It's ruined! She ruined everything!"

Just as she's about to be escorted out, you make eye contact with her, offering a smug smile. She scoffs, which earns her a grab on the arm and a more forceful expulsion from the reception.

"Y/N!" Tigris is rushing across the lawn toward you, careful not to stumble in her shoes and bridesmaids' dress. "What happened?" She asks, addressing her cousin now.

"She's okay, there was just an accident with a glass of wine. We're just going to take a few minutes. I'll help her change." He explains to her.

She nods, looking worriedly down at the small stains in your dress. "I should be able to get this out, alright?" She assures you, rubbing a clean spot of the fabric between her fingers to make sure.

"Okay, thank you." You sniff, leaning into your husband's side as he guides you back up to the house.

You get inside and upstairs to what has become your dressing room and secondary bedroom over the last year. As soon as he shuts the door behind you, you can't hold your laughter back anymore. You're practically doubled over with it, and immediately Coryo understands. He chuckles, shaking his head at you.

"What a show..." He grins fondly, pulling you into a hug which you happily return.

"Oh, you liked it?" You giggle, coming down from your laughing fit.

"It was wonderful." He agrees, kissing the top of your head. "For a moment I was worried about you."

"Aw, really?" You look up at him, jutting your lip out in a pout.

"Definitely." He hums, kissing you softly. "Now come on, let's get you changed, huh?"

"Please." You nod, kissing him again before pulling back to pull your next dress from the closet. "I was supposed to wear this underneath, but now I can't." You sigh, hanging the full dress on the door before pulling the wine-stained one over your head.

"Just that will do, I suppose." Coryo mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you toss the slip onto the ground.

"Oh, you suppose, do you?" You chuckle, reaching up to pull the new dress from its hanger.

"Mhm." He nods, planting a kiss in the crook of your neck. "Makes my job easier later."

You laugh, blush spreading over your cheeks and flushing your chest while you unzip the back. You carefully balance as you step into the opening in the fabric, pulling it up around your waist.

"Don't rush, Darling. It will probably take you a while to recover before we can return to the party." He says, watching you adjust the skirt before you plan on zipping it up.

"Good point." You agree, but make no effort to stop until Coryo places his hand over yours.

"What should we do with all this time we have to kill, hm?" He's already leaning down to kiss over the back of your neck.

"I feel like you have an idea..." You mumble, tilting your head to adjust to his presence.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" He asks as he gently pushes the fabric back down to drop in a pool around your ankles.

"You may have mentioned it..." You turn under his palms as they land on your lower back, gently pulling you closer. "And I love you too. More than you could ever imagine, Coryo."

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

[drysaladandketchup]

for the "things you said" writing meme -- matthew/leon, 12 :)

Thank you for the request <3 I realised very quickly I have no idea what constitutes a 'mini' fic. I struggle to write 'mini' anything lol. Hopefully this still satisfies :)

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep

It takes all of Matthew's willpower not to reach over and smash his phone just to shut off the alarm. All that saves his wallet and an awkward trip to the Apple store is the split-second realisation that the shrieking in his ear isn't his usual alarm.

It's a ringtone. Not his own, either.

He pries his eyes open to find the world through the window is still dark. One of the balcony doors is still ajar, letting in a cool night breeze. He's lying on his side in his own bed, the end of the all-star weekend memorialized by several aches and bruises.

His hips and ass are a little sore too, but that's unrelated. Technically.

The ringing stops. Someone huffs behind him.

Someone. Yeah, no, Matthew knows who it is. They may have met up at the bar once the media was done swarming, but Matthew was far from drunk. Painfully sober, in fact. If he's being honest with himself, he was hoping things would turn out this way.

One more time. One more moment. Because it's been a long time since they were them. Longer still since the sex was just sex, since hate became want. Matthew is strong in a lot of ways, but not against this.

"Davo." Leon's voice is low, and still gruff from sleep when he answers his phone. He sits up on his side of the bed, trying not to disturb Matthew, pulling the covers back up over Matthew's shoulder like he thinks he'll freeze to death in this balmy Florida winter.

Usually Matthew's a heavy sleeper. But never when Leon's around. He makes it impossible for Matthew to completely relax, to let time slip by. Leon's just too big of a presence, almost too much to bear. It was more important that everything linger, to bask in the strange comfort of their relationship, whatever it was. They had so little time. Even less, now.

"I know it's late. No, no, I'm not at the hotel. I'm... I'm with Tkachuk."

Leon says his last name like it's wrong, like it's rotting on his tongue.

When he corrects himself, says, "Matthew", it's better, lighter. Like it's ambrosia.

Matthew remembers when Leon Draisaitl saying his name wouldn't have meant a damn thing to him. When that simple act didn't fill him with fondness.

In the silence, Matthew can hear McDavid talking on the other end, but can't quite make out what he's saying. Matthew tucks up under the duvet, breathing quiet and even, trying to focus instead on the distant sound of waves and the ticking clock on his wall.

Ticking. Always ticking. Time bleeds out when they're together.

He doesn't even remember falling asleep last night, but he wishes he hadn't now. He wishes he'd stayed awake longer, just to... just to see him. To look Leon in the eye, to talk about everything and nothing until dawn, to feel big, too-warm hands on his body more and more and more. He wants to make sure he'll remember how Leon feels, sounds, tastes.

"Connor," Leon says, a warning, followed by a sigh. "I know. I know, okay? It was stupid, but..."

Maybe it was. Matthew has a good thing here in Florida. Better than ever. He was happy to leave Alberta behind and start over. So why did leaving make him feel like a coward?

Because leaving was about Calgary, and the Flames. About his career and his future. It wasn't about Leon. Leon was the wrench in the gears; the one thing he didn't expect to have to say goodbye to, the kind of hurt he never could have accounted for.

"I needed to see him." Leon sounds helpless. He's not the only one.

The only time he's heard Leon so lost was after his team was knocked out of the playoffs last season. The Oilers meant nothing--Matthew was pretty fucking glad considering they'd beat out the Flames--but he never wanted to hear Leon like that again.

He definitely never wanted to be the cause of it. Not like this.

Leon is still mumbling into his phone. "Yeah, I'm fine. He's... we're good. He's happy."

A hand settles on Matthew's head. Fingers play with his curls, nails scratch his scalp. A thumb presses just behind Matthew's ear, stroking the soft skin where only hours before Leon had put his lips, whispering sweetness and filth in equal measure.

It takes everything for Matthew not to groan, to whimper and surrender, roll over and climb on top of Leon and take all over again. Beg him to take something--everything--from Matthew.

"I don't know," Leon says then.

It's easy to guess what McDavid asked.

He's happy. But are you?

"I can't even tell him I still love him."

Still. Matthew didn't even know there was a before, let alone a still. Leon never said anything. Fuck, if Matthew wasn't busy trying to remember how to breathe, he'd roll over and punch him.

Then again, what did Matthew ever say? They never talked about it. Never let those closet hook-ups and slipping out back doors and little drinks and dinners and overnights excused as practical necessity be anything more than that. A bunch of chirps and half-truths and aborted discussions because it was all becoming too much. There was too much uncertainty. Too many ways it could go wrong.

It did go wrong. It became something. It became real.

Maybe that would have changed something. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything at all. It doesn't matter now. Matthew left, and neither of them said a word about things like love, because it was easier to hope it would shrivel and die with distance and time.

"I know I'm being stupid." Leon pauses when McDavid interrupts, then huffs. "No, I am. Fuck, I really thought I'd get over it. Maybe I will. Eventually."

Don't you fucking dare, you piece of shit, Matthew wants to scream.

"Not sure I can, though." Leon swallows so loud Matthew can hear it. Then quieter, like he's not sure he's even allowed to admit it, he says, "I don't really want to."

He's still playing with Matthew's hair, occasionally dragging a finger over his bare shoulder or down his back, tracing imaginary lines across Matthew's flesh. Like he's something to be memorized and cherished.

They're both so fucking stupid. Matthew bites his lip and tries not to choke on the lump in his throat. Could be his heart, climbing right up and out of his mouth. He clings to the sheets with shaking hands.

"I'm not going to fuck up what he's got here," Leon says tiredly, voice thick with tension and pathetic resignation.

Leon's not here to drag him back. He wouldn't do that. So why is he here? Just to torture them both? Being with him doesn't feel like torture. It feels like winning. It feels like defiance and decadence and too much and not enough. It feels like what could have been and what could still be.

He didn't find Leon at that bar and bring him home out of pity, or nostalgia, one last fuck for old times sake. It was... it just was. Not an ending. Not some final goodbye. Proof maybe there could still be something. Getting over it was never an option, Matthew knew that well before he stepped onto the ice as a Panther and found himself staring Leon down all over again.

Matthew's vision is blurring. His eyes sting, warm and wet. There's blood pounding in his ears, and a hand clutching his heart, a vice around his lungs. He hardly remembers how to breathe.

He doesn't catch the rest of Leon's conversation, except something about meeting Connor back at the hotel tomorrow. Meaning he's staying the night, at least. He's staying.

When Leon hangs up the phone, Matthew finally comes up for air. He relaxes his shoulders, listening to the soft thump as Leon taps his phone against his forehead over and over. Then it clatters on the side table. Leon sighs, sniffs, and sinks back under the covers. He tucks right up against Matthew's back, still burning like a furnace, soft muscle and skin brushing Matthew's spine in all the right ways.

He throws an arm around Matthew and finds one of his hands, worming his fingers through the gaps to hold it. His palm is sweaty, not that it matters at all to Matthew. He can't help squeezing Leon's hand a little, but if Leon notices, he doesn't say a word.

Not until he's wrapped tight around Matthew, near suffocating, like any part of them that isn't touching is a sin.

"Love you," Leon mumbles, barely more than a whisper, pressing his lips right to the base of Matthew's neck. Matthew's body can't seem to decide whether to shiver or melt under the heat.

Leon says it like it's inevitable. Painful. Pitiful.

What he's saying is, I'm sorry I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I'm sorry I don't know how to say it now. I'm sorry it's too late, it's the wrong place, the wrong time.

Like he doesn't think Matthew could ever understand. And that's the worst part of it all. They're still not on the same page. Tearing down what they never built.

If Leon's only brave enough to say it when Matthew's asleep, then Matthew will just have to be brave enough to say it in the light of day. He doesn't run, and he won't now that he knows he doesn't have to.

He stares into the night outside his window, listening to Leon breathe, feeling his heart beat through Matthew's chest like that's where it longs to be.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow maybe they can stop chasing time long enough to make the most of what they have. To make up for what they've wasted. And whatever happens after, well, maybe they can stop being afraid of that, too.

[lucy90712]

Ice skating- Fermin Lopez

When it's winter and cold outside there isn't much to do especially when your boyfriend hates the cold and refused to be outside unless he has to be. Somehow I managed convince him to go ice skating with me I was expecting him to fight me on the idea but he happily agreed to go for our date night this week. I'm not sure if I have excellent persuading skills or if Fermin will just say yes to pretty much anything I ask because he loves me. Fermin doesn't know that I have been skating before, I went quite a bit as a kid and I have been a few times as I've got older so I know what I'm doing. I'm definitely not great but I can hold my own on an ice rink but I can't wait to see Fermin on the ice he's never been the most graceful person so I expect he'll be a little unsteady on his feet at best. 

Like always he came over before we needed to leave so that he could spend some extra time with me. That's something I love about Fermin he just wants to spend time with me so he'll always come over even when I'm not doing anything interesting or we have no plans as he just enjoys my company. Today he brought lunch with him so we ate lunch together and he helped me get ready by picking out a hoodie of his I have in my collection to wear over my outfit so I don't get cold. He also made me change out of the leggings I had on as he said I'd be too cold so I put some jeans on which he was satisfied with and allowed us to leave the house finally. The ice rink wasn't far from my place but Fermin can no longer just walk through the streets like he used to so he drove there and found somewhere nearby but quiet to park. 

We pretty much ran inside as there was a lot of people about and Fermin didn't want to spend ages taking pictures and signing things. He loves the fans he really does but at times like these he doesn't want to be disturbed as there has been occasions when I've waited like 40 minutes just for him to finally be let go by the fans. Once we made it inside there was a lot less people around and none of them seemed too bothered by our presence which was nice. Fermin paid and got our skates before taking me over to a bench so we could actually put them on. I did mine quite quickly as I've done it many times before and I know they need to be tight but Fermin was struggling as they were just too loose on him. He didn't want to admit defeat for a while but after a few attempts he asked for my help so I did his laces up for him. 

"Is my big baby ready to go" I laughed 

"I'm not a baby skates are just stupid how did you manage it?" he asked 

"I've been skating before I went quite a bit as a kid so I knew how to do the laces" I revealed 

"Why didn't you tell me I thought we would both struggle together now I'm going to look like an idiot" he said 

"You won't look like an idiot I promise most people aren't going to know how to skate" I said

"You'll hold my hand though right?" He asked 

"Of course I will can't have you falling over can I" I laughed 

Fermin didn't seem to appreciate my joke but still he grabbed my hand and I led him onto the ice. He was as stiff as a board to begin with but I held onto both of his hands and skated backwards so I could teach him how to skate. Fermin is a quick learner and he always listens to instructions so he worked things out pretty quickly and was able to skate next to me when I let go of one of his hands after a few rotations round the ice. As much as he was getting more confident his grip on my hand didn't let up I don't know if that was because he was scared of falling or because he just didn't want to let me go but either way I kind of enjoyed that he felt like he needed to hold onto me so tightly. 

We had a lot of fun together talking as we skated round and maybe laughed at a few people who fell spectacularly because it is kind of funny. There was also some amazing little kids who have clearly been having lessons that we just watched in awe both wishing we could do that. It had been the perfect date we got to go out somewhere and enjoy time together without really being disturbed at all. Both of us were having so much fun until some guy came speeding round the rink and slammed right into me. I didn't seem him coming as he was behind us but luckily Fermin is pretty strong as he was able to help keep me on my feet as otherwise I would've been on my ass in seconds. Fermin pulled me into his chest as we both came to a halt in the middle of the ice, his hands went straight to my face to see if I was ok as he can read me like a book by just looking at my expression. I've learnt to read him pretty well too but you didn't need to be a genius to see that he was mad and like really mad. 

"Watch where you're going mate" Fermin shouted after the guy who just kept going 

"Are you ok amor?" He asked 

"I'm completely fine I just didn't see him coming" I said 

"I'm not surprised he should've gotten out the way but he didn't because he's an asshole" he raged 

"It's ok forget about that and forget about him I'm not hurt so everything's fine" I said trying to calm him down 

"I'm glad you're ok but that doesn't mean that guy should get away with doing that" he continued to argue 

"Why don't we get out of here so we don't have to worry about him any more and before you do something you'll regret" I suggested 

"We should get hot chocolate to warm us up" Fermin said with a complete change of mood 

Thankfully there is a cafe just across the road from the ice rink so we headed straight there and ordered two hot chocolates with marshmallows. I left Fermin to get the drinks while I found a table for us both and he came back he had the two hot chocolates but also a cupcake which he put in front of me with a big smile on his face. I tried to share with him but he insisted that I sat the whole thing and who am I to say no to a cupcake especially one that was so delicious. Fermin quickly forgot about what happened with that guy and was just saying how much he enjoyed ice skating and that he wants to go again so that he can get good at it. Of course we can’t go that often but we agreed that we should go together again for another date night which I’m really looking forward to. 

[nerdyjournals]

Flowers have sad meanings too

Florist!Y/N

Many believe that working in a flower shop is all gumdrops and rainbows, but it's not. It's stories of heartbreak and sadness. I wish I could remember their names, but I can't grieve every one of them. No matter how hard I try.

Author's Note: 3/8 of these mini tales are based on encounters I have had while working in my field. They are INSPIRED and not exact.

DISCLAIMER: ANY SIMILARITIES THESE ENTRIES HAVE TO A PERSON, PLACE, EVENT, OR SITUATION IS COINCIDENTAL AND NOT INTENDED TO MIMIC ANYONE.

WARNING: THIS PIECE TOUCHES ON DEATH AND ITS AFFECTS, SUBJECTS OF DEPRESSION, AND ASSUMED SU1C1D3. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SUBJECTS LIKE THESE, PLEASE SKIP THIS POST.

Boy #1

He was a boy with his whole life ahead of him. His mother said that he was very protective of his siblings, so protective that it's what took him.

She said it was a break in, one that happened in the dead of night. She never heard it. All she heard was the sound of her daughter screaming for help as her husband tackled the man to the floor. She didn't even hear the gun go off.

He was on his way to college in the fall, full ride. He was very talented. They hope to release his works down the road, but for now, some things stay locked away. Not because they're bad or sad, but because the grief was too fresh.

Boy #2

He was an interesting story. A quiet kid that everyone thought was mean, but was a very sweet guy and an only child. He loved animals.

His flowers were ordered by his friends because his parents were too shattered by the news. One of them couldn't keep it together, ended up telling about him. He was off volunteering to help build houses when one of them collapsed on top of him and a few others. They came out with minor injuries, but he wasn't so lucky. They spew out so many things about his kind heart but stone-like demeanor. It hurt to see that it was also his undoing.

Other families came and ordered, many of them being young kids in the dance classes he taught. Many of the kids still not understanding why their favorite teacher wasn't coming back. His parents finally arrived to order, but my heart was too fragile to be there.

Boy #3

His sister wouldn't stop talking about how he had wanted to do a lot with his life. She said that he was going to the gym everyday to get stronger. He was a gentle soul, a loving gentleman. Sickness took him far too soon.

It started off with a bad cough and a fever, she said. Then it just kept getting worse. By the time he was eighteen, he was fully living in his hospital room. It broke her heart to see how he dwindled away until he was almost nothing but skin and bones. She was thankful that he went in his sleep, going painlessly.

She couldn't stop repeating that she felt like a bad sister, that she should've done more to help him recover. It broke me a little more on the inside when I couldn't tell her that it wasn't up to her to fix him. I could only stay silent.

Boy #4

Only one person ordered him flowers, but it was a lot of flowers. Other than his parents, this boy received flowers from dozens of people. Friends, teachers, acquaintances - you name it. They all ordered through one person as they were the only one in town.

The pieces were extravagant, ranging from small vases to large sprays. They said that they wanted to reflect him; an artist surrounded by colors. No one knows what took him; whether self or sickness. They just found him in his studio one cold winter morning, slumped over an unfinished painting.

They said he'll have a gallery set up after the service, show off the wonders he created. I might go. If not just to see a fellow tortured soul. One day, his name will be known alongside the greats. For now, he'll be known to me.

Boy #5

His flowers were ordered over the phone by his mother, said something about it becoming too final if she stepped into the store.

I heard about this boy on the news. They found him in his car, just off the highway. He was so young, but the demons got to him before anyone else could.

I could only sit silent as she cried in my ear, blaming herself for not helping him. Little does she know the demons live in everyone. Including mine.

Boy #6

This boy was proof that the brightest smiles hide the darkest demons. His sisters couldn't hold themselves together as I flipped through the binder. The older one said that she blamed herself, saying that she should've seen the signs.

He went as he slept, passing in silence. She said that he had been bullied for years, but since he stopped talking about it, they assumed it stopped. They found him gone in the morning. I can never understand how some people find it acceptable to be so harsh to another.

They showed me his photo. He had a bright smile, one that was even wider with his family. It almost breaks my very soul that he suffered alone.

Boy #7

This was my first family order. The poor family was lost due to a faulty monoxide detector. The remaining members were in the middle of suing the landlord on top of mourning the family.

They didn't know until the son failed to show up for school for three days, unlike him they said. Same for the parents.

The boy was said to start high school next year. They were all excited since he would be attending the private school near the edge of town, one that was hard to get into without good grades. Now, the world could never see what he would amount to.

Boy #8

He was a child.

No mother should ever be allowed to outlive her baby. He was innocent, a victim of medical circumstance. They never said what he had, but they ordered him a beautiful urn display.

His younger brother, one still so small, would almost never know about the brother who left too early. His older brother was deployed, but is in an emergency flight back over to give his good byes.

A child...goodness.

[jolalibrary]

rainy world, blanket days

frankie morales x f!reader

summary: “Yourewet.” It escapes, muffled between your mouths, as he smiles against your lips. “It’s raining, amor.” 

wordcount: 1.8k an: written for anon, with a huge thanks and dedication to @thelightsandtheroses who let me ramble a lot to her, without complaint. and sorta told me i could do this, even when i didn't think i could. warnings: none. just sweet!frankie, soft vibes, nice ending (real cute, tbf)

When it rains, it pours. 

A sentiment he knows all too well with how his day has been going. 

You and your grand ideas, where simple DIY soon gets out of hand: first, a photo frame, then the guest sink, and now he’s retrieving shelving because you need more space for your books. 

Frankie doesn’t mind. Not really. 

He likes being busy—likes making you smile and how it always hits your eyes and coats him in a warmth that no winter can ever take from him. 

When he'd left, there had been sunshine. By the time he pulls into the car park, the clouds have grown grey and heavy, fingers tugging to pull his collar around his neck to fend off the wind. Hat tugged down, hiding, as he saunters around aisle after aisle, an image in mind of what he wants—what he needs. 

He clambers it all together. Some under his arm, some lodged against his chest, hugged there by his arm. Somewhat wishing he hadn’t been so quick to turn down a bag. All to step out of the automatic doors and be met with a downpour. 

The kind that soaks everything it touches and makes the air smell of petrichor, all fresh earth and mire. A scent which could so easily take him back to jungles and covert missions if not for the way he gripped the wood until splinters threatened to dig into his hands. 

He’s been better recently—more rooted. Finding himself less troubled and minus the haunting of ghosts. 

But, sometimes, they hang in the background. The memories that become nightmares, waiting for a weaker moment to suffocate him. 

You fend them off—doing so without trying. 

You and the smile he thinks of as he throws everything in the truck, slamming the driver door behind him as droplets fall down his neck, sliding from the ends of his curls to run down and settle on his collarbone. 

Palm across his forehead, wiping the beads from his brow as he removes his hat—the one soaked to the bone. He knows it’ll take hours to dry, trying to hang it off the passenger headrest as he wrestles with how naked he feels without it. 

You like it off. 

Often whispering it to him, having done so the other night when you were straddling his lap, pushing it back, taking it in your fingers before placing it backwards on your head. 

“Do I suit it, Frankie? Your hat.” 

He wished he’d taken a photo, made it his background. 

You in his oversized shirt, a pair of boxers turned shorts, and his hat on your pretty little head. The thought alone sparks warmth through his chest, suddenly turning the key more eager, more determined. 

Desperate.  

That’s what he was: desperate. To see you, get home to you. 

The work-in-progress which changes month by month before their eyes as vision and his handiwork being it to life. 

He likes working on it, your two's home. But sometimes, in weather like this, he wishes for blankets and candles, no lights—just the flicker of a movie he’ll pretend to watch for the first act before he silently studies you. 

Or music, soft, lulling music that floats around the walls. The occasional raps of the branches from the tree on the window, the one you refuse to have Frankie cut down. 

He craves one today, never really being one for lazy days, but now it’s those days he loves the most with you. The ones which are easy, a gift. They come along infrequently, but when they do, he tries to clutch on to them too tightly—in the same way, he likes to have you close. 

Whether it’s bare legs thrown over his thighs, fluffy socks twitching under the blanket, or you slotted against his side, hand playing with his fingers as his lips twitch into a smile periodically. 

It’s those memories, that wish, that carries him home. The car windows steam up under the clamminess of his skin, the radio humming songs he barely listens to when he finally swings his truck on the drive. Forgetting the items beside him, including his hat, as he steps out, not even doubling back when he presses the key to lock it—just desperate to get inside, and when he does…

It’s all he’s been wishing for and more. 

The scent of a burning wick hits him first, followed by hot cocoa. Shutting the front door, locking it—and keeping the world out—he slides his feet from his boots, leaving them in a state on the mat. Then he begins his hunt for you, fingers brushing down doorways, leaning into the kitchen, and then the living room.

Frankie frowns as his fingers scratch at his damp hair. Something akin to worry begins to needle at his chest, making his heart stammer—rattling in his chest. 

His next stop, the only one truly left, catches his eye as droplets fall from his jacket, painting the wooden floor in dots from the outside. The door, all half-open and ajar, as it had been this morning when he’d followed you out of it, sleep clinging to his lashes as you excitedly talked about decor and needing his help. 

Now, he worries he didn’t lock the door. That something had happened. Not even remembering the last time he checked his phone or—

You collide into him suddenly, all quickly. 

In a way that forces all of the pieces of him to slot back together, making the worry dissipate. Your grin growing at the sight of him, hitting your eyes as you begin to beam as though he’s your sun and not just a man you met one day and never got rid of. 

He thinks of speaking, whispering a hi and then pulling you close, but he gets tangled up—thoughts balling and knotting in his head at the sight of you. 

You look so comfortable and relaxed, your face clean and free of anything—one of his tees adorning your frame, hiding your curves from him. 

There’s something about seeing you undone that he'll never grow used to. How at ease around him you are, have been since early days. It’s almost his favourite sight, taking it over summer dresses and painted lips—almost. 

Frankie’s favourite has more to do with when your lips are parted, thighs on either side of him—pupils blown, skin warm, sweat pebbling on your hairline and collarbones. You make the prettiest noises then, too—an array of Francisco’s and Frankie’s pecking the air. 

Your eyes are narrowing, confusion mounting at his stare and empty hands. He knows you—about as well as you know him. 

Frankie knows that you’re beginning to worry with how your brow slides up your forehead, that concern-laced words will fall from your tongue as your mouth starts to part. But he moves, pounces, rids the air of comments that aren’t please and more. 

Slanting his lips over yours, he steals your thoughts. Intentionally, his tongue licks into your mouth to wipe up the remainder of any words that had been forming. It’s only as he nips at your bottom lip, tasting the whimper you let him have, is he aware of your arms coming around his neck, feels fingers scrape against his hair, his scalp—

“Yourewet.”

It escapes, muffled between your mouths, as he smiles against your lips. “It’s raining, amor.” 

Frankie slides his fingers across your cheek, keeping you close, letting him take his time to kiss you, enjoy you. His other hand is busy sliding up your frame—fingers brushing the overwashed, seen-better-days t-shirt of his that you love—all to find purpose on your hip. Wishing to grip it, his thumb digging ever so lightly—not enough to bruise, although he could (enjoys doing so, too), but enough to inform you what he wants. 

You. Always you. 

Rainy days and sunny ones. The difficult ones and the easy ones. 

“Frankie…” 

He kisses the side of your mouth, humming—indicative that he’s heard you. 

“I’ve got the blankets out. Queued a movie and—“

“Lit the candles,” he finishes, one last kiss to your jaw before he retracts, letting you go to look you up and down as he folds his arms, leaning against the doorframe. 

The silence allows the sound of rain hammering against the window panes to find his ears—doing so to a beat similar to how his heart thumps at the sight of you. The way it has done since he woke up one morning and couldn’t get the thought from his mind: 

I want to marry you. 

He’s been thinking about it for weeks, months.

Moments adding to other ones, collecting them like stamps. Letting them layer and layer—

You drag him from his thoughts, shifting on the balls of your feet, an unreadable expression flushing out the one he’d put there a moment ago. “Is that… okay?” 

He nods, slow at first before a grin accompanies it. You pull it from him easily, and do so all the time—a thing the others have noticed. 

“All I was thinking about at the hardware store.” 

“You were thinking about a blanket day?” 

His lip twitches. “Thinking about you under a blanket, yeah.” 

You try to hold it back, but you smirk. Eyes latched on him as he shrugs his jacket off, your hand gesturing to take it from him, pulling it close to you. 

“I’ll let you pick the movie,” you say, moving past him, holding his eye line as your hand brushes his chest, taking his jacket with you. “And I’ll hang this up to dry.” 

He smirks knowingly. 

Because you only let him choose when you have no intention of watching it. 

“I’ma just change,” he calls out, heading into the bedroom—passing the mirror, the wardrobe. Shifting around the end of the bed as he hovers near the bedside table. 

Letting his fingers find the handle, he pulls on the top drawer, glancing at the door. Nervousness prickles, mixes with the drizzle sliding down his spine, as he opens it, peering in. 

At first, he sees nothing, and then just the corner of it. 

Just how he left it, smothered in clean, holey socks and receipts—the blue box which stares up at him. All 4.7 x 3.9 of it. 

The one which had been heavy in his pocket the day he picked it up to bring it home. How it began burning a hole in his jacket until he hid it, stuffing it in the back of the nook for the right day. 

Today though, he lets his fingers pull it out from the corner it’s been trapped in. Feeling how light it actually is, for the weight it has on his shoulders. 

“Frankie, y'coming?”

He smiles, both at the box in his fingers and your impatience. Nudging the drawer shut with his knuckle, a scar catching his sight—one you always stroke, never asking, yet reading the story behind it with each touch.

He calls back that he’ll be a minute, placing the box on the bed, opening other drawers and slamming them shut once he'd found sweats and a fresh tee. Dressing, he feels the warmth slide up his neck, reaching his ears as his pulse thunders.

Having decided today will be the day the ring finds a new home—hopefully, one on your finger. 

an: hope this was fluffy enough, anon.

[sonayesul]

Junior Thesis

some stuff I worked on for my junior thesis project earlier this year. Ill share the full finished comic later on but for now enjoy these character designs and such 🫶

the watercolor version of the cover looked too much like bradley james when that was like, not the point of the assignment, which is why the finished digital version looks so much different. I still prefer the original watercolor version but i tend to always favour my watercolor versions of things

In depth explanation below cut

the junior thesis assignment was the adapt a book into a six page comic and we could have creative freedom with certain things and the book only ever mentioned the color of guenever's hair and eyes, NOT her skin color or features and so I had my fun with her design. the ONLY description they give lancelot in the entire book is that hes ugly and beauty is subjective so i gave him "non traditional" features. In one of my original sketches for him, he was going to have crooked teeth, but unfortunately i do not draw teeth well LMAO. I wanted Arthur and Lancelot's designs to contrast each other as well. Arthur is shorter and stockier where Lance is taller and thinner, Arthur keeps his feelings quiet while Lance wears them on his chest, and then i wanted there to be the stark color difference too between them.

Morgause and Mordred were fun, but they both had a lot more descriptive descriptions in the book, so I didn't get as much creative control outside of their outfits. I assigned the Lot family the color blue and the Camelot cotizens red to try and contrast better throughout the story and it was kinda fun cause it made mordred look like an ice prince or something.

also despite gwen lance and arthur being around the same age at the point of my comic, i wanted to try and make arthur look the oldest, sort of visually show how much being king and his decisions has weighed on him, especially since the scene I adapted was pretty heavy.

also i did have a reference page for gwen but at some point it got deleted? so in this its just a fun drawing I did of her holding excalibur instead. I do also have a full reference drawing for exacalibur in my files that was useless because i never ended up drawing it in the comic LMAO

the last photo is the cornwall sisters, Elaine, Morgan and Morgause. With their designs i had fun trying to make them look related to each other, to Arthur and their parents but also try to not make them all have the same face. Elaine looks like her mother, Morgan looks like her father, Morgause looks like a mix of both (Uthers hair color but Ygraine's hair style, Uther's face but Ygraine's eye color) and Arthur looks like a perfect blend of both too. I sort of did the same with Mordred where I took features from both morgause and arthur to make him look related but like his own person. Ygraine and Uther are only in one panel so there's no proper ref for either of them.

This project was a five month process, six if you count writing the script to fit within a six page comic without losing any details from the book and creating my pitch for my professor (all of which was done over winter break)

The project took FOREVER and I definitely am not happy with the final result but its due to the fact i had frequent doctor visits and hospitalisations and wasnt able to work on it as much as I had wanted, PLUS i had an eight page comic for another class i worked on also over the same five months (and i was more focused on that one as it was my own original characters)4

regardless though, i do still like it, just wish it cane out better in the end lmao

will prolly post the full comic in a day or two :3

[little-cereal-draws]

Details I noticed in The Last Wish pt 3

I always get too invested in the story at this point to notice any details so this list is making up for several detail-oriented rewatches. It got so long I'm going to split it into two parts. This is going to cover everything from the pocket full of posies to when the bears are in their cabin. It also includes lines I wish were talked about more lol

I think it's so funny when Kitty and Puss are trash talking Perrito as they go through the pocket full of posies. "Ughh, his path is so corny." "And cheesy." "And lame." "And weird. Like him." "Yeah. Why are you so ridiculous, dog?"

Jack has to push off a baker's face with his foot to pull Excalibur out of his magic nanny bag

When Jack's tank gets stopped by the posies, he says, "Well?? Start chopping!" There's this one baker who says, "On it! You don't have to tell me twice! I'm going to chop the heck out of this Ficus lyra-" He then gets eaten by a flower and another baker falls to her knees and goes, "Jerry, no!!" I think the fandom should appreciate Jerry more; the baker who was overeager at his job and knew a lot abt flowers lol

Jack has basically no eyebrows (they're a very light purple that's only visible in close ups) and crow's feet

When Jack is using the phoenix as a flamethrower, it cries a single tear

Jack also sets one of his men on fire when he's flamethrowing

Kitty has gold embellishments on the end of her sash

Kitty sees Puss scratch at his beard twice before he tries to get her to say he should shave it so she definitely knew he didn't like it

When Kitty's shaving him, there are some hairs that stay longer even after she went over that area. It really gives it the look that he's being shaved by a dagger on a boat lol Not the most precise shave, but it gets the job done

Kitty brushes Puss' fur off her hands as he gets rid of his stick sword after the shave

During the fight on the bank of the river, Puss sneezes out a bunch of confetti after the second unicorn horn explosion

During his panic attack, Puss lightly pets Perrito's head. I'm sure this is common knowledge but I always thought that he just put his hand on his head, not actually pet it too

When Mama bear says that they're a "crime syndicate family," it triggers the map to bug out. Goldi's holding it at the moment and the map could probably tell the confliction between her wish and her reality

The map's message right after also has more foreshadowing for Goldi's wish. "To find your wish, adjust your view. What you seek may be right in front of you." It's trying so hard to tell her that she already has her wish but she doesn't get it lol

It must be winter wherever the bears are from. They keep bringing up hibernation, their cabin is covered in snow, and both Baby and Papa are asleep in a matter of minutes of entering their house

The library stamp in Goldi's book reads "Crying Tears Orphanage Library." What kind of name is that??? Also, it proves that Goldi was at an orphanage first and then probably wandered into the woods on her own accord; her parents didn't leave her there. It does still have lots of angst tho because everyone in the town/orphanage probably assumed she died

The other kids who checked out Goldi's book were Hansel and Gretel

Mama has a scar on her nose. It's pretty big too

I love Baby's line after they find Puss hiding under the table with the map. "Oi! You crime-ing us when we just crime-ed you? No. No crime backs!"

Part one, Part two, Part four, Part five

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.57 The resort

Winter arrived, and I couldn't even tell. The pleasantly warm temperature was the same as every other day that week, like autumn in San Sequoia, and I loved it. At least it didn't rain, though. I in no way had any regrets about moving in with Sophia, but I missed San Sequoia a lot—a whole lot. There was just something about that colorful town that resonated with me. With any luck, we could move back one day, but for now, Oasis Springs was my dusty new home.

Good thing I didn't have a traditional job, or otherwise Sophia and I would struggle to find time together. Not only did she work an early shift, but also she worked on weekends and had two random days off in the middle of the week. But that also meant I'd only have a few hours each day to get everything I needed to get done before she got home if we wanted to maximize our time together. I could have gone back to San Sequoia to host a class or two, but I used the time to shop for a few items for the house and put up my pictures. I was no design diva like Mama, but I hoped Sophia would be pleasantly surprised when she walked through the door.

After the decor adventure, I went for a jog, and would you believe it rained after I had just given Oasis Springs props for not raining on me? Rude. Maybe the latter part of the year was just rainier everywhere in general and I never noticed until now.

Next to our house was an empty lot, and even though I'd jogged past it a few times, it stood out that day and got me thinking. How much would it cost to build a very small, very basic studio? The question intrigued me so much I canceled my second lap and went back home to do some research. The price of the land was relatively cheap, which meant the lot taxes would probably be low as well. So far, I had no reason to not consider this path, but I tucked the idea away for another time because I became distracted by learning about a spa resort right here in Oasis Springs. The resort, named Desert Bloom Spa Hotel, was conveniently located near our neighborhood. I still had a few more hours before Sophia got back, so I went to check it out.

I had only entered the lobby and already fell in love with the place. It was so clean, modern, and peaceful. Maybe one day Sophia and I could do a weekend getaway—a staycation of sorts. Well, definitely not on the weekend, but you know what I meant. I found someone who worked there and asked if I could look around, and to my surprise, she volunteered to take me on a tour and began in the dining room, which was just across the breezeway from the front desk.

They served continental breakfast, snacks during the day, and tapas at night. At the heart of the facility, there was a sprawling fountain that spanned almost the entire length of the spa. The poolside bar was pretty big too. Tables and chairs were scattered all around the fountain, giving plenty of room for everyone to hang out and chill over a nice drink.

They even had a two-level gym with enough machines to accommodate nearly anyone wishing to workout during their stay. Not even my gym in Newcrest had that many machines. This place was really growing on me, and I wondered if I could frequent it without a reservation.

Up next were the residential suites. We couldn't go in them, of course, but they were duplex style, side-by-side suites that mirrored each other. They shared a common pool, and I got to peek inside a little from the patio door. They looked nice enough inside. I think we could be happy there for a few days--not that we'll be sitting around looking at the wallpaper, heh.

The yoga area was outside across from the suites and pool, and MAN I was so inspired. I rarely thought about opening my own yoga studio. Honestly, it was yet another one of Mama's ideas that eventually bored its way into my subconscious. But sometimes the idea was strong enough that it felt like it came from my own mind, and I really wanted to do it. Looking at their setup gave me so many ideas for how I could craft mine when the time came.

Hopefully, they also had an indoor facility because it started raining again. I would hate to be a paying customer who wasn't able to take any classes because of the weather. Watcher forbid they still carried on, regardless. I asked my tour guide if they ever did guided meditations and explained I was a yoga instructor myself and led guided meditations in San Sequoia. This intrigued her, and she promised to discuss it with the owner.

Turns out they didn't have an indoor yoga room, but the meditation room was upstairs. The spa rooms were also upstairs, but my tour guide didn't let me go in for obvious reasons. But she said there was a sauna, two tables inside, and multiple massage chairs on the upper deck. The lobby for the massage rooms was just as clean and peaceful as the front desk, so I knew the service rooms would be too.

I was so wrapped up in the tour I didn't realize the time. Sophia had already arrived home, and I missed the opportunity to show her the things I bought. True, she could see them as soon as she walked in, but I wanted to be the one to show her. But in Sophia-like fashion, she began raving about how much she loved the rug and blinds as soon as I walked in.

Luckily, she hadn't seen the other room yet, so I got to show her the couch for the office, and she loved that too.

"Thanks for moving the desk and fitting the couch in there. I know it's not easy getting things in and out of here."

It was no trouble. After all, I was a very strong man, heh.

I joined her on the couch and asked about her day. Thankfully, it was much better than yesterday but still kind of meh. I guess that's the answer a lot of sims gave since it was so common to work a job one didn't love. I wanted better for her and didn't enjoy seeing her live a mediocre life. Hopefully, one day my yoga business would be so good she wouldn't have to work if she didn't want to. I just wanted her to be happy.

The conversation reached a lull, and she took the opportunity to change the subject and ask me a very serious question.

"So how are you feeling about living here?"

To be continued...

The resort is a golden oldie by @jenba!

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

6 month solstice/full moon check-in livejournalstyle

So i've been advised to recap the past 6 months. Especially since this current Capricorn full moon is exacting at 1 degree Capricorn which happens to be the same degree as My Ascendant. (Pinkmoondoll number 1 :@!!!!!)

The Cancer full moon happened at around 5 degrees on december 26th 2023. That is my ex's birthday. On winter solstice 2023, exactly 6 months ago, i cut her out of my life. We were already broken up for a long time before that but i continued to let her stay in my life for a few reason, namely guilt & fear. Guilt because of the emotional turmoil she projected onto me & fear because, well, we are married and i didn't know what would happen to my immigration status if i cut her off. I still don't! This has not changed yet.

Pretty much everything else about me & my life has changed though. internally at least. Having her out of my life has allowed me so much freedom to get back to who i am & live with integrity. The only people left in my life now are ones who are respectful, kind, have their own shit going on, appreciate that i am my own person too, allow me to breathe, don't expect anything specific from me, don't toy with my mind & emotions. They are just glad to let me be who i am. No one tries to control me anymore. i feel so wonderful because no one can control me.

So the past 6 months has been a series of stages of getting back to Me. unraveling all the lies i was fed for years, healing from the pain of being manipulated, feeling that so much of my energy was wasted. Truly truly wasted. i'm not one of those people who can live without regrets lol. i wish i broke free so much sooner, the stress destroyed my health for years. But ultimately, this is how it went down, so i strive towards acceptance.

For the first few months of this year i was really on a huge substance abuse kick! im not gonna specify what, but iykyk. Like i really just could not bear the weight of what i was feeling. Every day i was finding out more and more info about lies i'd been told, stuff happening behind my back. All i could rly do was take pills & tunnel vision into ableton or drawing or whatever. it helped repress my emotions & i got a lot done during this time but it was unhealthy & the more it progressed i saw how unsustainable it was.

around spring equinox shit HIT THE FAN e_e So this would be the quarter year mark. Well it was march 15 when denji ate the ziploc bag and had to get emergency obstruction removal surgery. That immediately halted all projects i was working on. I was still taking a lot of pills to cope with the stress of that situation & at that point i needed them just to function at a base level. Then i think april 4th or 5th was when i found out Sammy died, which...i mean yeah i've spoken a lot on how horrific that was & still remains to be.

I mean , like, that shit, rearranged my whole brain, that shit reset me. this also marked the time period where like... my psychic senses really began evolving. idt it was necessarily linked to sammy's death, it just weirdly shifted around that time. i think the lunar eclipse in late march caused some type of quantum leap idk man idek. Then the solar eclipse in april sealed the deal. Ever since then the craziest stuff that i cant even rly talk about has been happening to me & i immediately felt compelled to like, quit all drugs and just fucking ascend lol.

Sooo first i started w pill numero uno, the really diabolical one, middle of april i just said fuck it, i am done. at this point i had abused it so hard it wasnt even doing shit for me anymore, even when i took tolerance breaks, it was genuinely pointless to continue. i did wonder how the fuck i was ever gonna function without it and i was scared. The final few weeks of april were just a total write off, didnt do shit, totally depressed & grieving & miserable but weirdly hopeful too. Like i knew i just had to suffer and get it over with.

pill 2 was actually pretty easy to cut back on because ive quit it a bunch of times before & know what to expect, and since i was already suffering so bad from pill 1 after about a week i thought yeah i might as well stop the other one too lol. there was no noticable increase in suffering from stopping it. So by the 2nd week of May it had been around 3 weeks of feeling like pure ass but i was starting to feel WAYYYY better and my normal goofy self again.

That is the worst thing about adhd meds for me lol they robbed me of my whimsy and goofiness T_T Like i was so serious all the time T_T it was even kinda affecting my relationship w slimbo. Like i couldnt be affectionate i was just a robot. All i cared about was working and i was so impatient. As i came off the meds i started to remember how nice it is to just be slow, be in the moment, enjoy simple things with my love, not constantly bound to this gnawing neurosis pushing me to squeeze maximum productivity out of every single second.

like i said , i'm 1 degree cap rising sooo this neurosis is something that exists firmly within my personality, for sure. i mean, if u cant tell, I Be Doing Things lol. And i get very competitive with myself. the dark side of me is that i want to be the best at everything. A big part of my adult life has been learning how to relax. learning how to have fun, learning how to be a little pointless. Without the meds this is a struggle for me so with the meds it was genuinely impossible not to be completely controlled by the rabid impulse to work.

So getting off the meds was a big exercise in confronting my fear of Not being the best. my fear of chilling, my fear of being still & unoccupied. But i did it! And i feel so much better. Like holy shit, i feel SO much better.

By the mid-May i was picking up steam in just being able to live again. a lot of the brainfog & physical heaviness lifted. I was still not very productive at art or music, but i was getting really good at not letting that bug me. spending a lot of time working in the garden, got back into yoga, reading, just doing leisurely stuff that felt expansive to my inner world rather than trying to externalize anything. psychic experiences continued to amplify. became interested in tarot again as i no longer felt i was living in fear of my higher self.

after getting off the pills i began feeling really fixated on the notion of quitting weed. Previously this had been genuinely unthinkable to me. Like, me and weed, we were One, every person i'd ever been as an adult had smoked weed, it was weirdly part of my identity, for 15 years i genuinely believed i could not exist without weed, like i would just lose my fucking mind if i stopped. i did not believe in myself.

But as the psychic experiences progressed i felt strongly that i want to go deeper. Previously i had been afraid to go deeper. In that regard i think i was truly afraid of my own potential. I wasn't ready for it, and that's actually fine. A lot of people aren't.. But as May was coming to a close i knew that i was ready, and actually, it was crucial of me to put an end to this. I was enjoying finally having some sense of peace & joy after how crummy it felt quitting the pills , i didn't really want to disturb that state of being, but i also was having that feeling again that i just need to "get it over with".

So when it struck June 1st i was like yeah fuck it. Let this mark a new beginning. as soon as i realize something is no longer in my best interest its almost impossible for me to keep going with it! like i can't live with myself. I guess that's where my fixation on being "the best" can serve me sometimes. if that makes sense.. Like i willllll always end up putting my foot down and saying NO :T

So yeah. it's recent enough that i don't really feel the need to detail how the first 2 weeks of june were sooooo sucky and emotional and generally dysfunctional. couldn't even read or draw or do any minor tasks i was sooo out of my mind. Not much needs to be said about it. i just had to simply allow time to pass. a lot of days spent in bed crying & dissolving.

right around the 2 week mark we went to missouri & this is when i started noticing myself feeling way way better. the whole time i didn;t even think about weed or my symptoms at all. i was so present in each moment and it was so easy to just feel....alive. also had some intense psychic experiences, one of which i haven;t even talked about on here, and i probably wont because its too sacred. The overarching theme between all the experiences i've been having since late march is that they feel too sacred to tell anyone. The high priestess emphasizes secrecy in some matters..

Which brings us to now, june 21, 21 days w/o weed, 3 weeks. I know that sounds like nothing but this has been 15 YEARS coming. that's half my lifespan so far. and now i just feel fine. i got thru the blues of quitting, all the repressed emotions, im sure they'll still pop up from time to time too. but ultimately i am just so fucking relieved to be free of that shit and like, functioning, able to sleep, not riddled with anxiety and self hatred like i was when i started as a grieving baby teenager.

i guess i wanted to write this to remind myself what a monumental shift i have made in my life in the first half of 2024, and how insanely far i've come in the grand scheme of my life, in a relatively short timespan. because i keep getting this feeling of self doubt where i'm like wait... it's almost july and i've barely completed any tasks, i still havent finished my music, wtf am i doing :( But i dont think i was supposed to finish it until i shed all these habits that were causing major roadblocks in my path!

shed my ex, shed pills, shed weed. shed grief! shed self doubt. emptied my vessel & it has allowed room for so much new life to come through. new forces being channeled. my mediumship abilities now are in focus and taking off at an accelerated rate. for the first time in my life i'm not in survival mode. i feel this is my reward for living through it all when i wanted nothing more than to give up for so many years. i prayed for death, every day, i really did. now i am dead! the old me died. and i carry her memory with honor, i carry on the parts of her that wished to remain and be loved, but she is effectively dead.

for the first time in my life i am really proud of myself. i don't feel so competitive with myself anymore. i don't need to prove myself externally. i do not require any validation of my existence. i can sit with myself without feeling extreme self induced dread & despair. i feel worthy even though i am still (from the outside looking in) at the exact same place i was at 6 months ago.

i'm finally feeling ready to work a little harder again, but not because i'm desperate to gain anything from it. just because it's fun, and fundamentally, as stated above, that drive is a part of my personality, a part of me that i love & cherish. number 1 is the magician. the mage patchouli ~~~ the alchemist. create for the sake of creating.

if anyone read this far, thats wild xD but thats dope too.. I guess one thing i'd like for the future is just to inspire people that you can alchemize the tragedies of your life and all the suffering into something much greater than yourself. You can get through it and be happy with your meager little life one day, even if it takes 30 or 40 years, it's worth it to try & worth it to get here. You do not have to wallow in sadness and self doubt forever, even if u see no way out rn.

i'm happy just being me ^_^ i have so much fun when i'm in my mind. bladee voice ~~be in your mind, be in your mind, be in your mind~~. i love how simple everything feels right now. i love how people & entities can come to me because they trust me to receive their messages & understand them. My own projections do not get in the way anymore. I shed so much. I am free. Happy Strawberry Moon everyone.

SIncerely, PMD9

[inkybloom-luv]

Words Unsaid 12, so there's school festivals here too?

Heya guys! Today there's another setup chapter for you cuties! The chapters will come out slower now as I have not yet read chapter 5 completely so please give me time to do so! In the meantime I'd like to know if drabble requests are something you guys would be interested in.

Slight Chapter 5 spoilers!

Part 1 Part 11 Masterpost Part 13

1.5k+ words

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Even though he slept less than usual Jamil felt strangely energetic today. Perhaps it was because he'd slept the best he had in a while or straight up because he woke up next to Inky. It was such a simple thing but he'd be lying if he didn't wish it would happen more, just because of how nice it felt. Is it bad he wished the prefect would have more nightmares only so he could hold her..? Probably. But as it stood, this was the only way he was able to act on his own feelings. Not like he didn't know Inky had feelings for him before his Overblot but he doubted it was love, now that he'd done what he did. Still he hopes and dreams as he stirred the non-proverbial pot of curry in front of him. It was one of the dishes he was making for lunch. He was making something else for Kalim, of course, as Kalim obviously didn't like curry.. but Jamil and Inky could have it, especially since the prefect did say one time she really wanted to eat something Jamil made and admitted in the same sentence that they've been looking to try more foreign food like different curries. Also in that sentence they said that anything Jamil made would be more than satisfactory though.

At the same time that day Kalim was at a housewarden meeting, simply to discuss the future event that would be held soon. The National Arcane Academy Cultural Fair. It was a yearly event mostly consisting of artistic type events like poetry slams, research presentations and, the most well known part of it all, the SDC. The SDC, or Song & Dance Championship, was a contest for singers and dancers, basically any musical talent, to go up on stage, by themselves or in a group, and show their aforementioned talent to the world to show who was the best of the participants that year. The winners would get not only a monetary prize but also a ticket to stardom. Of course that ticket to stardom wasn't exclusive to first place but they had the best chance.

Riddle, who was head of the planning committee was rambling on and on about the details but the report was necessary. Turns out both Vil Schönheit and Neige LeBlanche would be participating this year as well, which meant extra press coverage for the school. Crowley was delighted about this of course and put up audition posters through negotiation with Vil that very same day. They were plastered all over a few notice boards, especially the one in the cafeteria. By lunchtime it was surrounded by people, which had sent Ace, Deuce and Grim to check it out. Inky stayed seated with Jamil and Kalim, though the occasional glance was thrown their way, since she was pally with Kalim as well as Jamil, who had literally tried to off them over the winter holidays that ended recently. Not that Inky really cared.

Unfortunately she did have to tear herself away from the Scarabian duo as she had class duty along with Deuce for the upcoming alchemy lesson and Ace was tagging along to chat. Speaking of Kalim and Jamil, that was where the conversation drifted, though grim did most of the talking.

"Seriously, first he tries to manipulate and kill you and now you're friends? Kinda weird if you ask me" Ace commented.

"Don't call my hench-human weird! Besides, it's not like he hasn't apologized and more. He's been taking care of me and Inky very well, Kalim also..! I think my henchman and I can decide who we, mostly I as a great mage, will spend our time with!"

"Thank you Grim.. I think that gets the point across. Besides.. Jamil is really nice to me, I like him a lot" The two half-students said, one confirming the other.

"What, you're still crushing on the guy? How? He literally gave you a massive scar on your arm, he could have ended you..!" Ace once again protested.

"And again, he apologized."

"You believe that?"

"Yes and you know next to nothing about him so I won't be hearing another word out of you about this..!" The prefect said, anger lacing into her stern tone, sending ace a small glare.

"Alright alright, I'll shut up" He said, though not happy about it. Before their conversation continued though, they were promptly distracted by singing.

"Who's singing? It sounds really nice" Deuce said as they listened, right after though, the singer seemed to choke up on their own voice, which sounded less than healthy. So, with slight concern, the group closed in on where the sounds were coming from, the well in the school courtyard.

Upon approach they met another first year, his name was Epel Felmier. He had lavender hair and blue eyes, his stature was small and skinny but well balanced, his skin was pale too and he spoke in a generally soft voice, unless some sort of accent came out that Inky personally could not place. All went well until they were interrupted by the Pomefiore housewarden Vil Schönheit. He had a regal presence, something like a king or queen in a sense that he was confident and knowledgeable in a few areas. Basically a perfect upperclassman if it weren't for his temper at that moment. Vil was upset that Epel was not training so he wanted to move Epel somewhere else so he wouldn't get interrupted. This went over wrong with Ace as well as Deuce as they misinterpreted Vil's tone and words. The fight that ensued wasn't even that long as Vil was vastly better at his magic than those two unfortunate souls.

The end result was an utter defeat which gave Vil the opportunity to leave with the lavender haired boy. Though not before the latter waved goodbye to Inky as she ushered Ace and Deuce up on their feet to clean themselves up and check for scrapes. She did wave back though. They went to Professor Crewel's lab and classroom, setting up the next lesson with the instruction of the teacher. In the midst of this, another student came in.

This girl was pale as can be and her hair was back length and white. She was rather short as well.

"Hello professor Crewel! I'm here to deliver those late project papers you asked me to go get" Her voice rang through the room as she grinned in a friendly way, waving to the first year trio that was setting up.

"Poor guy was really under the weather, caught a stomach bug or something but he'll be fine. He's over the worst of it according to the nurse, he needs a day or two to recover properly."

"Good girl, thank you for informing me. You have a free period now, yes? Why don't you sit in on the first years and help out? I could use a helping hand to whip these bumbling pups into shape and you're on the school's student tutoring program, so you'd be a good fit." Crewel said, to which the pretty student agreed as he explained what they would be doing during the class period.

It gave Inky the ability to look at her a little more closely. She had facial piercings and some on her ears. The ones on her face were a septum and a lip ring as far as Inky could tell. She didn't wear a blazer, had her sleeves rolled up and her purple vest was open. She wore her white blouse tied up in a way that it would expose her stomach, though not in a war that was inappropriate. She wore a shorter skirt variant at her hips that ended above her knees and flip flops as her footwear. It left a lot of questions as to how she wasn't cold. Then again it wasn't too cold, simply chilly.. she dressed like it was summer though. She had jewelry too, a few rings, a choker and a necklace, an anklet, two bracelets and on her other arm she wore her Pomefiore Armband, except she had it tied more around her wrist than anything, like another bracelet.

That lesson was over quickly, and it was fairly nice. Turns out the student's name was Alani and she helped out around the classroom after having changed into appropriate gear. She was a Pomefiore third year apparently and had heard about the prefect from Leona, whom she visited during spelldrive practice after school occasionally so she could exercise with them. She was good at explaining things and this included her clothing. Apparently she was dressed the way she was because it was usually hot or at least warm here compared to her homeland, which was very far up north. In conclusion the lesson was lovely and after all the cleanup the prefect even managed to get Alani's number, for emergencies or if Inky ever really needed or wanted something.

The rest of the school day went off without a hitch as well, only really starting to pick up the pace when ace and Deuce along with grim decided they would contact this 'Rook' character to get an audition appointment.

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

@leonistic

@dove-da-birb

@azulashengrottospiano

@az-flaming-sword

@escaaaaaanyeh

@viperwhispered

@krenenbaker

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

I'm feeling seasonal (for the elemental asks): Summer, Spring, Fall, Winter!!

Oooh, seasons! Thank you! 😁

Summer: How do you know when you need a break from writing?

I push myself way too hard and I usually keep trying to force myself to write well past the time I should have stopped.

But usually, when I'm feeling both physically and mentally restless, that's a sure sign that I need to take a break and do something else, even if I don't want to.

Spring: Have you ever scrapped (a huge chunk of) a story to start over?  Why did the change come about?

I don't think so?

I'm wracking my brain, but I cling tooth and nail to pretty much everything I write, because I hate cutting out bits and never using them. I also stubbornly refuse to start over unless I have to.

I wish I had a better answer here, but I don't think I've even really scrapped things in my original writing, even though I definitely should.

Fall: Have you ever completely abandoned a WIP?  What led to that decision.

I have, actually.

I had a few Fantastic Beasts WIPs going, but I decided to abandon them because I lost steam and then found out about J.K. Rowling and didn't want to be associated with the author any longer. (Yes, I did publish three fics for that fandom, but that was before I knew)

I've also abandoned a Stargate WIP with a Sam/Martouf angle because I just lost enthusiasm for them.

Winter: Have you ever written a story based on a holiday?  If yes, which holiday was it for and what was it like?

Oh boy, I absolutely have! I've done Halloween and Christmas and they were fun to write! The Christmas ones especially, because I don't really like Christmas all that much, so I initially decided that I wouldn't do any, but I did and they were nice and fuzzy, with some angsty dollops for maximum feels. I also did one of them for my first festive fic exchange and that was a lot of fun! I feel very proud of myself for how I did there.

For Halloween, it was really fun because I adore Halloween and it was a lot of fun to stick the Sanctuary gang into the holiday. I also met self-imposed deadlines, and that was a nice thing to see that I could do.

I've also done Mother's Day and Father's Day and those were satisfying to do, but not as fun. They were also a lot more angsty and they were more of self challenging than anything else.

(List and links under the cut, because I was reading some of them earlier and it probably explains it a bit as well)

Halloween

No Monsters Allowed (Sanctuary, Gen, Helen's POV)

Halloween can be hard, especially for a little boy whose family are considered monsters. On his first Halloween at the Sanctuary, Helen witnesses his struggles and the solution that is offered to her son.

-

One for the Ages (Sanctuary, Teen, Declan's POV)

Halloween night has always been a competition between the Sanctuaries. This year, to Declan's slight dismay, the London Sanctuary is at the front of the pack.

-

Christmas

O Night Divine (Sanctuary, Gen, Helen/Nikola, Helen's POV)

On Christmas Eve, Helen is feeling sad and Nikola gives her a gift.

-

Christmas Cookies (Sanctuary, Gen, Helen's POV)

There was a tradition Helen maintained over the years, even when it was hard.

-

To Start Anew (Sanctuary, Gen, Helen/Nikola, alternating POV)

Helen and Nikola slip away from a party to spend some quiet time together in the new Sanctuary and confront some things they need to talk about.

SG-1 Stories

Mother's Day

What Makes a Mother (Stargate SG-1, Teen)

These women all played different roles across the universe. Queen. Goddess. Outcast. Doctor. Wife. Warrior. Thief. All different from each other. But, ultimately, they could all be defined by one single word. Mother.

_

Father's Day

Fatherhood Does Not Simply Stop (Stargate SG-1, Teen, Jack & Teal'c)

On Father's Day, Jack and Teal'c discuss fatherhood and loss.

-

Christmas

Nook (Stargate SG-1, Gen)

Christmas has always been family time for SG-1.

[despairforme]

Has nnoitra ever tried to take care of a plant? How's his current home situation? Does he clean frequently? What's a task that could annoy him the most?

❝ Yeah, lemme tell ya somethin' fuckin' SHOCKIN' - I got houseplants, 'n they're still alive. ❞ To anyone who knew him ( actually, you only needed to take one look at him ), this ought to be a big surprise. He sure as shit didn't seem like the sorta guy who could take care of anything ( including himself ). Somehow, he HAD managed to keep his houseplants alive. He'd gotten them from Adelha, a woman who'd more or less adopted him as her younger brother ( weird, huh? ). She'd told him that these plants were easy-care. Nnoitra had forgotten what they were called, but it sure was true that they were easy-care. Otherwise they would've died in his "care". Nnoitra wasn't the sort of guy who cared about decor. He wasn't too concerned with how his surroundings looked. He had noticed that having something green in his home helped his mood. Seeing greenery just made him feel better. Especially during winter months. Man, he wished he could live somewhere it was green all-year around.

❝ My current livin' situation 's alright. I live in some apartment. ❞ He lived in an apartment FAR below the budget he could've afforded. Nnoitra actually had a really good income, and he had plenty of savings, because he wasn't a materialistic guy, meaning he never bought himself anything ( other than food ). The apartment he'd been living in together with Grimmjow had been far fancier than the place he currently called home. It was a small one-bedroom apartment, on the 4th floor in an apartment building. It was in the shady part of town, which meant the walk to work was pretty short ( around 10 minutes ). He had to admit he felt more at home in this part of town. It was where scum like him was supposed to live. It probably wasn't good for his paranoia though.

He had one neighbor, Tesla, who he got along with really nicely. The guy had given him food plenty of times, which was a sure way to win Nnoitra's approval. Tesla lived on the same floor as him. He couldn't say he liked the rest of his neighbors as much. The couple living on the floor above him were always arguing and screaming at each other, and Nnoitra had told them that if they didn't shut the fuck up, he was going to fucking kill them.

❝ I don't think ya can say I clean often, but it ain't like my apartment be lookin' like a fuckin' crack-den. ❞ It all depended on his mood. When he was in a long depressive episode, then dishes would pile up, laundry would flood the floors... There would be lots of dust. When he felt OK, he'd do his best to keep it somewhat clean. It was the classic single-guy place. He was lucky to have Adelha come over quite often, to help him clean. He sorely needed that. ❝ Task I hate 'da most... Damn, 'daz hard 'ta choose. ❞ He thought about all the different chores around the apartment. Things he.. Hadn't minded doing as much when he'd been living with Grimmjow. Because Grimmjow only had one arm, Nnoitra had done most of the chores, and he'd been fine with that. Doing shit for just himself? It was a whole different thing. Nnoitra hated all the chores. He supposed what he hated the most was doing dishes. Because that was every fucking goddamn day. ❝ Doin' dishes fuckin' sucks. Why do they keep pilin' up EVERY day? ❞ Oh, he knew why. Because he'd been doing good with cooking his own food, instead of relying only on take-away.

[hinatastinygiant]

21 | මරණය

Pairing: Uzui x Fem!Reader

The Emptiness You Left

Y/N'S P.O.V.

You're sitting on a bench on the opposite side of Uzui's estate, looking out onto the serene winter day. Before you is the lake which reflects back your surroundings. On the opposite side, behind the estate, sits the small forest of snow-covered pine trees and the mountain, its peak covered in snow. The sky is clear, interrupted only by a gentle snowfall that dusts the landscape.

You watch the water move slightly as a breeze blows past. The trees sway gently and a flock of birds take flight from the forest. Everything seems so peaceful and calm. But, your mind is racing. Uzui hasn't trained you since that day. One month ago from this morning. You haven't really left the estate since then, either. Although you have been practicing your skills alone, you can't help but be reminded of the way you reacted when you actually came face-to-face with the demon.

You've had a lot of time now to reflect on what happened. About what you could have done. Not that it matters now. You don't wish to dwell on it longer anyway. It's time to face your fears.

Just then, you see a man's figure walk out on the opposite side of the lake where you sit. A small smile grows on your lips when you see him wave, a huge grin on his lips. His fiery red hair is recognizable anywhere, especially in the winter.

"Kyojuro?"

"Hey, Y/N! I got your crow," he shouts across the lake, causing his voice to echo. "Come over!"

You quickly rush to him, overjoyed that he came so fast. You had used Suma's crow to contact him with a cryptic message, asking to meet because there was something you wanted to ask.

When the two of you unite, you wrap your arms around his neck. "Thanks for coming," you whisper as he pulls you closer to him.

"I'm glad you're okay. When I got your message, I was worried about you. And, you're welcome," he tells you, his voice softer than before.

"I'm sorry," you mumble. "But there was something I wanted to ask you and it needs to be in person."

"Well ask away," he grins as you pull back from the hug. "I'm all ears!"

"I want you to take me somewhere we can fight real demons," you tell him quietly, making sure none of the others are around to see or hear you. "I don't care where. I just want to be able to go into a battle without freezing. And, I think you can help me."

"Why didn't you ask Lord Tengen?"

"I did," you answer, trying to hide the annoyance in your voice. "He won't do it. He doesn't think I'm ready yet. But, I know you've heard about what happened. I don't want to get caught off guard like that again."

"Do you think you're ready?" he then asks. "Even if you have help, there's still the possibility that you'll freeze."

"I need to learn," you sigh.

Rengoku shakes his head. "I don't know if this is a good idea, Y/N. You-"

"Please," you beg, placing your hand on his chest which causes him to instantly forget everything the two of you were just talking about and instead blindly answer, 'yes'.

"Uh, really?" you hum, confused that he gave in so easily. "Just like that?"

Rengoku's cheeks burn in a different way than he's used to. "I-uh... Yes? I mean, as long as you're sure about this."

You chuckle as he stammers. "Thank you, Kyo," you whisper, bringing him in for another hug.

"Anything for you, Y/N," he whispers back, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Are you okay?" you then ask him as you pull back from the embrace.

"Huh?"

"You seem off," you explain.

"Don't worry about me, Y/N. Worry about yourself," he chuckles, patting your shoulder. "Go and get yourself ready and then meet me by the entrance to the forest just outside of town. We'll make it a fun little excursion."

"Oh, okay," you nod.

"But, before you go, can I ask one more question?"

"Sure," you shrug.

His face begins to heat up again. "Uh... are you and Lord Tengen...?"

"Oh," you laugh, realizing what he's implying. "No, of course not."

"Are you sure?"

"Why do you ask?" you hum as you look at him through squinted eyes.

"Well, the way you look at him, and how much he seems to care about you," he replies.

"Don't be silly, Kyo," you chuckle as you turn away from him. "Master Uzui has been kind enough to let me into his home but he's got enough to worry about with three wives and all. I'll be ready in an hour. See you then."

Rengoku sighs to himself as he watches you walk back into the estate and disappear from his view. Although he is quite happy that you've called upon him for help, he still can't help but wish it was him you were staying with instead of his fellow hashira.

"Lord Rengoku, why are you here?" Uzui then calls out, causing the younger man to turn and face him.

"Oh!" Rengoku jumps, not sure of what to say. "I just came to see if Y/N was alright. I haven't heard much from her in a while. But she seems fine so I was just about to..."

"Ah, yes, that's understandable," Uzui nods. "She's been a bit off lately. I know she's pissed at me for not taking her to train against actual threats."

"You know," Rengoku starts, a grin growing on his face. "I think she'll be a bit happier the next time you see her. I was just helping her out with something."

Uzui furrows his brows. "What are you talking about? What did you help her with?"

"I'm sure you'll find out," he hums, a small part of him hoping he can piss off Uzui enough to take matters into his own hands.

"Wait, Kyojuro, stop," Uzui shakes his head, his tone becoming stern.

"It was nice seeing you again, Lord Tengen," Rengoku smiles before turning on his heel and rushing off, leaving the sound hashira alone to ponder the cryptic words he just heard.

The Emptiness You Left